*****
Way before he was ready, the sun was up and Daniel was climbing blearily out of bed. He pulled his pants on and went to the bathroom to take a shower. He let the hot water run over his face to wake him enough that he could make it to the kitchen to brew some coffee. Shaboni and Jack were still asleep and he was going to let them both stay that way as long as possible. He wasn't looking forward to his conversation with General Hammond, either. To his surprise when he got to the kitchen he found a pot of coffee already brewed. He went and looked in Jack's room and found him still snoring away. He decided to check the deck. He found Shaboni curled up in a blanket sitting on the deck swing sipping a cup of coffee.
"Good morning. I didn't hear you get up." Daniel stood at the door not wanting to go outside into the chilled air with wet hair and bare feet.
"Hello. I made coffee," she smiled at him.
"I see. Um, how are you feeling?" he asked frowning slightly.
"I am feeling fine. Much better from last night. I am feeling hungry and thirsty," she smiled at him happily.
"Would you like some breakfast?"
"I would, yes," she nodded.
So he turned and went back inside and started making eggs and ham with toast for everyone. He tried to keep it quiet so that he wouldn't wake Jack, but searching for a pot he banged around a little too much and soon Jack came wandering into the kitchen with his hair sticking out in all directions and scratching his head.
"Hey, Jack. Hungry?" he raised his eyebrows in question.
"Starving." Jack dropped into a chair.
"Did you sleep well?" Daniel asked him
"Too well." It was not something he liked to make a habit of, sleeping so soundly that he lost track of where he was.
"I'm going to the SGC as soon as I eat."
"What do you mean, 'I'? WE are going." Jack looked at him with that I'm-in-charge-here look he had to take with Daniel sometimes.
"Jack, I really think you should stay here with Shaboni. She can't come with us and she shouldn't be alone," Daniel explained.
He hadn't thought of that. Damn. He hated when he missed something as obvious as that. He hated it even more when Daniel had to point it out to him. 'Blame it on the head injury,' he reasoned. "Right, I knew that," he mumbled.
"She had a rough night," Daniel said as he prepared a pan for the eggs. He looked up over the rim of his glasses to see how his words were impressing Jack.
"I'm not surprised. She was awfully sick yesterday." Apparently he wasn't biting and Daniel didn't really desire explaining to Jack how he hadn't awakened him when she was vomiting gastrointestinal blood. She seemed a lot better this morning and there was no reason to infuriate the man.
"She's outside, by the way," Daniel told him.
"What do you mean, 'by the way'?"
"I mean, oh, and by...the...way...she is sitting outside." He looked at Jack pointedly and inclined his head towards the back door. "She made coffee." Daniel was turning eggs in the pan and the whole house was starting to fill up with the aroma of breakfast.
"Give me some, will ya'?"
Daniel hurriedly poured him a cup with one hand while holding the pan of eggs in the other. He sat it down in front of Jack and sloshed some on the counter.
"Thanks." He took the cup and went to the back door. Shaboni was sitting wrapped in a heavy blanket on the deck swing. She had her legs tucked underneath her in a pose that was becoming comfortably familiar to Jack.
"Good morning!" he said cheerfully.
"Hello, Jack," she smiled warmly. Jack thought that she looked even more tired than she'd been the night before. The beautiful touch of rose that had been in her cheeks was completely gone. "Did you rest well?"
"I haven't slept that well since the 70s." He remarked taking a deep swig of his coffee. It was perfect. He sat down next to her on the swing and she promptly rested her head on his shoulder. Again he was astonished at how such a simple gesture could fill him with thoughts and feelings that were intense beyond words. He sat with her enjoying the morning and their coffee until the sound of Daniel opening the sliding door jarred them from their quiet.
"Breakfast," he explained when he observed their startled expressions. He thought he detected a trace of...guilt?... on Jack's face.
Daniel sat the food before them and they ate breakfast in relative quiet. Daniel and Jack were both pleased to see that Shaboni ate a decent amount of breakfast. Apparently she was feeling better. Jack was starting to think that maybe a good night's rest had done her as much good as she had claimed it would. Daniel decided that for the time being he wouldn't mention how sick she'd been during the night.
After they ate Daniel put his shoes on and left for Cheyenne Mountain. Shaboni turned to Jack and asked him, "He is going somewhere."
"He's going to work."
*****
"Come in, Dr. Jackson."
Daniel entered the general's office with some trepidation. He was not looking forward to this conversation. He had put it off as long as he dared, even stopping by Teal'c's quarters to inform him of the situation first, only to find that he had gone to Chulak for the remainder of the week. He would much rather have had Jack here to tell the general about Shaboni because Jack was pretty much able to say anything to the man. Of course, Jack could say pretty much anything to anybody because he didn't worry too much about decorum or politics. In fact, he dealt with politics like he dealt with anything stubborn and unpleasant in his path: running rough shod over it, blasting it to bits with his P90 if at all possible.
Daniel came in and stood until he was invited to sit.
"Aren't you supposed to be at Colonel O'Neill's?"
"Um, yes, Sir. I am staying there. And I'll be going back but..." he stopped for a moment to gather his thoughts (nerve).
"Well, what can I do for you, then?"
"Something has come to our attention that you need to be aware of."
"Go on," he intoned patiently.
"Well, on the way to Jack's yesterday we stopped to look at Jack's truck. It was still at the scene of the accident. We should really have someone come and tow it." Yep, he came all the way back to the mountain to tell the general that Jack's truck hadn't been towed yet.
"Dr. Jackson, is there any particular reason you wanted to speak to me about this?"
"Oh yes, Sir, sorry. It is about the woman he hit in the accident, Shaboni. She was at the site of the accident when we arrived. She was, uh, not feeling well, but she refused to be taken to the hospital so Jack let her come back to his place."
"He did what?!"
"Just hear me out, this turns out to be a very good thing. We found out why she was up on the mountain...twice." He paused. "She apparently was looking for her husband, who is some Israeli chemist. He was apparently requested to participate in a program that was going on in Colorado Springs that was highly classified."
At that moment Major Carter knocking on the door interrupted them.
"Come in," the general answered.
"Daniel!" she looked surprised.
"I was just telling him about Shaboni," he explained.
"Major, you are aware of the actions of Colonel O'Neill and Dr. Jackson?" the general demanded.
"Yes, Sir. Daniel called me last night and we met and discussed the situation. I thought they would call me and we would come to you together." She shot Daniel a look.
The general was getting a little rosy in the cheeks as he said, "Would somebody please start making some sense here!"
Daniel shrugged at Sam, "I hadn't gotten very far."
Sam decided to cut to the chase, knowing that Daniel's meanderings would only serve to further irritate the impatient man. When she was finished the general sat back digesting the implications of her words. "Major, we have not at any time employed an Israeli chemist at the SGC."
"No, Sir. And the program that I worked on at the Pentagon was strictly military personnel. Sir, I believe it was the NID posing as the SGC, otherwise they wouldn't have mentioned anything about Colorado Springs. They were clearly trying to make it look like it was us."
General Hammond looked at Sam, and then he looked at Daniel. "Well I seriously doubt the United States Air Force would be hiring foreign nationals to do molecular analysis on the most highly classified operation in the history of the word CLASSIFIED," he groused. "So now this woman is staying at Colonel O'Neill's house?"
"Yes, Jack felt that under the circumstances it would be best if we kept an eye on her and the best way for him to do that was, well, if she was right, um, under...his...nose." He frowned a little at the way that came out.
The general continued to contemplate the situation. "We need to find out who this Russian chemist is that didn't participate."
"Well, we can't ask her without arousing her suspicions," Daniel pointed out.
"I think I can make a few calls." Hammond turned away from them deep in thought. "Dr. Jackson you need to get back to the colonel's house and continue with what you're doing. Let me see what I can find out." He stood up and said, "Dismissed." Sam and Daniel rose and left his office.
"You going back to the Colonel's?" Sam asked as they headed for the elevators.
"Yeah. He'd never say it but he still feels lousy. You?"
"I'm going to my lab to see what I can dig up. I think there is a favor or two I haven't used up since my Pentagon days."
"Happy hunting," he called after her as she hurried off towards her lab.
"At least I'm not babysitting the colonel!" she called over her shoulder laughing.
*****
The stream next to Jack's house had shrunk to a shallow trickle from a lack of rain. The autumn months were usually lean for fishing, but that never stopped Jack before. After all, it had nothing to do with actually catching fish. He had hoped to share the rare joy and peace of fishing with Shaboni, but her cough convinced him they should be staying indoors. She had finished off four cups of coffee that morning and gone into the bathroom to take another shower. The running water didn't drown out the sound of her coughing and gagging and spitting. Jack had sat there silently debating with himself on when, exactly, he was going to force the issue and carry her, bodily, to the hospital. He tried with all that was in him to believe that the only reason she didn't want to go was that she hated hospitals and doctors in much the same way that he hated hospitals and doctors. But his instincts were talking to him. He had that twitch between his shoulder blades. It said that this was not just some ornery refusal to be fussed over. They said that her comments about not having any time were the key to this little mystery. That and perhaps someone was looking for her: the men from the incident in Prague perhaps.
And they said that if she didn't go to the hospital she was going to...
He shook his head. He was overreacting. She was not dying. He'd seen Daniel sicker than she with nothing more than a sinus infection. Hadn't he?
No. Not really. But it sounded good as rationalizations went. And when it came to rationalizing his choices, he could justify with the most astute of politicians. 'Of course my wife had to leave. It was best for both of us. I didn't have to see her suffer and she didn't have to watch me self-destruct. It was better for all concerned.' Of course, it was a crock of shit, but it sounded good.
The shower turned off and Shaboni came out in the fresh pair of sweats that he'd nicked from the back of his closet. He was going to have to wash her clothes, or maybe get Daniel to drive to her hotel and get her something comfortable to wear. As it had the night before, her hair hung in heavy ringlets past her shoulders leaving weepy wet streaks in the blue sweatshirt that hung sloppily on her thin frame. She sat on the sofa next to Jack and tucked her bare feet underneath her in the way that she found so comfortable.
"You feeling any better?" he asked her.
"Yes, much. I like the hot steam of the shower." She took a deep breath and let it out in a slow and relaxing sound. "I was thinking that I must be going to the hotel to get some clean clothes and the other things I have left there."
"When Daniel gets back we can go get your stuff."
"I must be looking for what happened to my husband, Jack. I can not stay sitting here doing nothing." She looked at him steadily.
"You got hit by a truck, you're sick, and you have no where else to go. Take it easy for a few days. Get some rest. Then maybe I can help you find what happened to your husband." Jack paused, then he said, "What was his name?"
She closed her eyes and answered him, "Emil."
They sat there on the couch like that for a while not saying anything and not moving until suddenly she jumped up and grabbed the CD that had fallen out of his bag the day before. "I want to hear this."
He started to stop her, but for some reason did not. She bent over to peer at the stereo he had sitting on a table in the living room. She inspected the various knobs and buttons and then turned it on and inserted the CD, starting it playing as if she'd always owned the device. She set the volume to a moderate level and sat herself down in front of the stereo speakers and listened. When the first song came on she closed her eyes and Jack watched her absorb the lean sound of the musician's voice. She occasionally would reach up and run her hands through her hair as if trying to coax it dry. Watching her enjoy the music was as sumptuous an activity as Jack could imagine. That was until the second song came on and hearing the sound of strings and mystic Indian vocals set to a driving electronic rhythm she seemed to involuntarily come to her feet and begin to sway.
Jack's mouth went dry. She had her back to him and placed one foot out at a careful and deliberate angle then lifted her hips in a motion that gave the impression of them breathing in time to the music. Her hands rose over her head and her body seemed to come fluidly alive. It was a distinctly Arabic dance. Every movement was precise and flawlessly graceful. She painted the sounds within the music with the lines and contours of her body. When she raised her hands high over her head her sweatshirt lifted to reveal a slender waist that sloped to full round hips. She had rolled the band of the pants up to keep them in place and they hung across her hips instead of her waist, revealing the small of her back. On her back was an obvious patch of scar tissue that looked to Jack to have been caused by a burn. He wondered what had caused it. The whole of her dancing was slow and purposeful. It didn't appear hurried or even strenuous. Jack was utterly mesmerized. Shaboni spun around and smiled at him, rolling and undulating her hips, then turned her back to him again and continued dancing in her own world.
Suddenly the magic ended as a spasm of pain twisted her tall figure. She pitched forward and grabbed the table, jarring it and causing the music to skip. She began gasping for air and then coughing. As she coughed she sank to her knees and Jack rose to his feet. He thought to give her a hand, but she shooed him off and pounded the carpet in frustration.
Jack stopped the music and squatted down carefully trying not to upset his knee or irritate his head.
"No, don't stop it *cough* I really want *cough* to hear *cough cough* it," she finally said.
"Uh huh. Yeah, well, you don't need any more excitement," he frowned at her.
"Please. Just play it. I will sit. I have not listened to music in many months." She was breathing rapidly but the coughing had subsided.
He couldn't think of a good reason to say no. He reached up and turned the CD back on and took her hand. He led her to the couch where she sat and he sat next to her. She laid her head against the back of the sofa and tried to catch her breath. Jack eyed her worriedly. What had been a vibrant and oh-so-alive face moments ago now looked pinched and pained. She was entirely too pale.
Jack reached up and touched the spot on his temple that was tender and swollen. It was definitely getting better. He had inspected his knee thoroughly the night before and knew it was black blue and brown from where he'd apparently dropped onto a rock. It was stiff, but it was clearly just a bruise. The other sore muscles he'd suffered from the seizure seemed to have improved slightly with a very hot shower and a good night's rest. All in all, he realized, for having completely ruined his truck, he came out pretty good. And he was sure that Shaboni's coughing had nothing to do with the accident, but she was obviously determined to avoid explaining herself.
The music was actually pretty relaxing and Shaboni seemed to be going with it. Jack reached up and gathered her in a gentle hug coaxing her to rest her head on him. She did and looked up at him with shimmering eyes that expressed affection and gratitude. He winked at her. She rewarded him with a grin bright as a sunrise. His heart gave a little flutter and he smiled back.
She closed her eyes and tapped her foot in time to the music. Jack was actually relaxing himself, the latest reminders of her condition fading into memory. After a time he noticed her foot had stopped tapping and stretched his head around to see her face. She was asleep, again. She was obviously needing a lot of sleep. He decided not to bother her by moving to shut the music off. He was able to reach a blanket lying over the side of sofa and he covered her as much as he could.
They lay there like that for a while. The music continued to play. Suddenly Jack was aware that the song he so deeply didn't want to hear was about to play. He started to push her off to get it, but she stirred and he didn't want to wake her.
The song was called Ghost Story. It told the story of so many of his nights since Sarah had left. So many nights he'd spent alone knowing that he'd driven her away. The nights he had learned to rationalize how much better it was for her to have a chance at a life with someone who could be fully there, and not just a shadow of a person. He had justified his cruel, selfish treatment of her saying to himself that driving her away had given her a new life free from the only thing he had to offer her: pain.
I watched the western sky, the sun is sinking
The geese are flying south, it sets me thinking
I did not miss you much, I did not suffer
What did not kill me, just made me tougher
I felt the winter come, his icy sinews
Now in the firelight, the case continues
Another night in court, the same old trial
The same old questions asked, the same denial
The shadows close me round, like jury members
I look for answers in, the fire's embers
Why was I missing then, that whole December
I gave my usual line, I don't remember
Another winter comes, His icy fingers creep
Into these bones of mine, these memories never sleep
And all these differences, a cloak I borrowed
We kept our differences, why should it follow that
I must have loved you?
What is the force that binds the stars?
I wore this mask to hide my scars
What is the power that pulls the tides
Never could find a place to hide
What moves the Earth around the Sun
What could I do but run and run and run
Afraid to love, afraid to fail
A mast without a sail
The moon's a fingernail, and slowly sinking
Another day begins, and now I'm thinking
That this indifference was my invention
When everything I did sought your attention
You were my compass star
You were my measure
You were a pirate's map
A buried treasure
If this was all correct
The last thing I'd expect
The prosecution rests
It's time that I confess
I must have loved you.
I must have loved you...
The song played. Images of Sarah and Charlie invaded his mind. But something changed. Something had shifted. Suddenly instead of the unending and soul sucking pain he always felt at the thought of their faces there was something more like breathing, less like dying.
'Let's see, Jack. Maybe you hit your head so hard you forgot what a miserable ass you are and how you killed her son and then broke her heart by refusing to live yourself.'
He knew he'd worn the guilt he felt over Charlie's death as a defensive shield. He'd used it in part to keep her from vocalizing the blame she felt towards him. That if, perhaps, he felt guilty enough to die that she wouldn't look at him with eyes that spoke of her private hell and his culpability in its creation. Oh, the guilt had been real enough. But he'd wielded it like a weapon and pierced the remaining heart she had for him with it. All the while telling himself what a favor he was doing her.
These were the conclusions he'd reached in the four years since his first mission to Abydos. The years of regular nightly trials where he held court against himself. And the years that he'd never once allowed himself to feel anything but guilt. Guilt over the death of his son and the death of his marriage. But there had been something left underneath and suddenly he was feeling it. As he heard the last verses of the song he was remembering something he'd refused himself as much as he'd refused Sarah:
His love for her.
It was the first time he could recall feeling the love he'd known since he was a young man in years. Even that night at the hospital, the last time he had seen her, he had worried for her, but the walls had been there. Now he was feeling it. And it felt kind of good. He looked at the dark-haired woman resting against him and wondered how her presence could free something so frighteningly good in his heart. She had somehow loosed a feeling he'd banished from his conscious world in some faulty justification of his actions just by being near him. Or was it by looking at him with those stormy eyes of hers…or the sunny smile that beat the storm back?
Jack sat there and thought of Sarah. He thought of the day they met. The day they married. The day that she told him she was pregnant. The day that Charlie was born. And he stopped there. Those were all good memories. Memories that he'd denied himself out of an obstinate, obligatory sense of sacrifice. Because he'd deemed himself unworthy of enjoying the good times. Of not having the right to feel the love he'd once known for the mother of his child.
His love for Sarah had not been as pure and instinctual as it had been with Charlie. It had been a love that he'd nurtured from a hormonal infatuation to a place where friendship had replaced fantasy. He had loved her by choice when he was away and beautiful women had thrown themselves at him to get business for the brothels. He had loved her by choice when he'd been in an Iraqi prison and needed a reason to hang onto his sanity. She had deserved to get all of him back. And he'd chosen to fight for her. Yes, his love for Sarah had been his choice.
Just like it had been his choice to take it away.
And then she was gone. And suddenly Jack was filled with a grief over the loss of her that clawed at his throat and made him suck air. He had never grieved the loss of his wife because he'd never allowed himself to feel anything about her, except that he owed her whatever life she chose, that being a life without him.
He took several deep breaths trying to calm himself. It was clear to Jack that something had changed in him this day. He'd been mistaken that he never held onto her when she left. Refusing to feel anything at all, the grief had never been attended to. He was finally letting Sarah go. Not forcing her out, releasing her. And the sense of loss was great, but something was replacing that sense. It was a feeling of rightness. That something right was happening. And that thought made him more tense than he had felt in any non-combat situation that he could remember.
"Hey Jack." Daniel's voice startled the colonel. He hadn't heard the CD stop playing and he hadn't heard Daniel come in the house. He was definitely getting a little too careless these last couple of days.
"Hi Daniel," he said in a blatantly forced upbeat tone.
"Busy?" Daniel asked with a chiding grin.
"Not particularly. What's up?"
Daniel inclined his head to indicate that he wanted to go into the other room. Shaboni looked to be sound asleep, but he didn't want to run the risk that she wasn't. Jack muttered something under his breath and began gently pushing her off him. Once he got out from behind her he laid her gently down. The two men carefully walked into the other room.
"So you talked to Hammond?"
"Yeah. He reacted pretty much like you thought he would."
"As in, he made like he'd ring my neck until you explained how it was all in everyone's best interest that we keep Shaboni under close guard without letting her in on the fact that she is being guarded."
Daniel blinked, adopted a wry grin and said, "Well, yes."
"So what now?"
"Now Sam is making a few calls and the General is making a few calls and we wait until we hear from them."
"What did Teal'c have to say?"
"Teal'c is on Chulak. I don't see that there is any reason to disturb his visit."
"Nah, probably not. But I bet he'd laugh, anyway."
"Jack, Teal'c doesn't laugh."
"Just 'cause you can't see it doesn't mean it's not there."
"Uh huh." Daniel nodded. "How's she doing?" he jerked his head towards the living room.
"She's still sick. She drank a bunch of coffee this morning and I think she coughed up a lung in the shower." Jack winced, scrunching up his face as he remembered the sound of it.
"She's going to have to at least see a doctor."
"I've tried. She won't. I don't know what her deal is, there, but she isn't gonna go willingly," Jack shook his head. "We need to go get her stuff from the hotel when she wakes up," he added.
Daniel sighed heavily. "How are you doing?"
Jack thought briefly about the incredible moment of emotional clarity he'd had just before Daniel showed up.
"Jack?"
"I'm fine Daniel. In fact, I feel pretty damned good." Jack gave Daniel a look that surprised them both. Something real and maybe a little vulnerable. Then the regular stony-faced Jack was back in place leaving Daniel to wonder what he'd just missed.
"Okay, then. I'm going to make lunch."
Daniel went to the kitchen and pulled some stuff out of the refrigerator and started making lunch. Jack walked through the living room, stopping to watch Shaboni sleep for a minute making sure that all was well, then continuing to the deck. He stepped outside and smelled the clean fall air. The sky was clouding up to the west and the wind was rustling the leaves like a telegraph announcing a coming storm.
"Looks like rain," he mumbled to himself.