A Week Later
Daniel walks into the house right behind Cassie. She dumbs her school bag on the floor, and says, "I'm going to call Jennifer."
"Ok, just so long as Jennifer doesn't have a 'y' chromosome," Daniel teases, referencing the incident a few weeks back when Cassie was caught lying about the gender of the person she was calling on the phone.
Cassie gives him a big exaggerated roll of her eyes, and trots upstairs.
"You forget your bag in the car?" Janet asks, looking at her husband's empty hands.
"I'm not going to bring my work home anymore except on Tuesdays and Thursdays."
"Daniel, I don't want to force you into doing something that you don't really want to do," she says softly. She's a little afraid of what her request would mean. That if she asks him to do this and he can't make himself do it, that it might be the end of them. Or that if he can do it, it might mean that she is selfishly asking for something that might endanger the whole world.
"I know, but I was thinking… about why I'm willing to drop anything to be with the kids, and not you. It's because I've been the kid. My parents… they were great, and when they were with me, they were with me. But when they were working… which was most of the time, they were in their own little word. I didn't want my kids to know what that felt like. But just because I've never been ignored by my spouse, doesn't mean that that isn't just as serious a problem. And I'm sorry if you ever had to go through that. It was never because you were less important to me than the kids were. That is anything from the truth. I love you so much, I couldn't love you any more if I tried," he says.
"And I'm going to try a lot harder to communicate well. I'll try to scream at you what I really mean instead of something else," she says, smiling.
Daniel grins at her, and pulls her into a hug. Just then the baby starts crying. He pulls away, and looks at his wife apologetically. "It's ok, you go get the baby, and I'll go get supper. You don't actually have to pay attention to me all the time."
He gives her a quick kiss, which feels intensely intimate for not reason in particular.
-0-0-0-
Janet grabs her dishes and stacks Cassie's on top before she brings them over to the sink.
Daniel follows after her with his own dishes, which he puts in the dishwasher. That probably would have been enough for her, but he doesn't stop there. He takes the tray off his son's highchair, and takes it over.
"You don't need to," she says quietly.
"I know, but I want to," he says.
She grins, and grabs Will, "Ok, then I'll give him a bath and get him to sleep."
"I'll check Cassie's homework, and we'll meet up for wine?" he asks.
He starts doing dishes, but turns when he notices that Cassie hasn't moved yet.
"Are you ok, honey?" he asks.
"Will you take me with you, Dad?" she asks.
"Take you where?" he asks, turning to her with a befuddled look on her face.
"When you leave her, will you take me?"
"Cassie, your mother and I are not fighting anymore."
"I know, it got really quiet right before my first dad left, too."
"Well, this is different. This time it got really quiet because we're working things out. I'm not going to lie to you and say that everything is fine just now. But we're working it out," he says, drying the tray. He snaps it back into place, and sits down in front of his daughter. "I'm not going anywhere, and don't you ever tell your mother that you choose me over her, because that would break her heart."
"What's wrong then? What do you have to work through?" Cassie asks.
"Honey, it's just stuff between your mother and me, but it will be fine," he says, "Now let's see that homework."
-0-0-0-
Janet comes down stairs almost an hour later to see her husband chatting with her daughter. He's got a bottle of wine opened, and two glasses next to them.
"Well, I better get out of your way," Cassie says.
"Honey, you can stay," Janet says.
"Right, like I really want to intrude on my parents' date."
One Month Later
"Are you sure you don't want to go to the museum?" Daniel asks Cassie as he gathers his bag of research and a cup of coffee.
"So you're asking if I want to spend my Saturday driving for hours to a museum that I've already been to, with my dad?" Cassie asks with a roll of her eyes.
"So that's a yes?" he asks with a big fake smile on his face.
"That's a no," she says, "I'm going to spend the Saturday at the mall."
"With?" he asks with an eyebrow raise.
"With friends."
"Which friends?"
"I already told mom," she says, rolling her eyes.
"Ok, I'll see you later," Daniel says, moving forward to kiss his daughter. She tries to flinch away from him, and he walks away without kissing her. He tries not to take it personally - it is after all only teenagers being teenagers - but it still hurts him when his daughter shies away from signs of affection.
-0-0-0-
Daniel is early. He's always early. So he take the time to walk through the exhibit before he goes behind the scenes to examine the artifact which may or may not be Goa'uld related.
It's not like he hasn't seen the exhibit before. It's the closest mummy to the place that he's lived for four years. But he likes to people-watch. He love to see the moment when people discover the wonders of Egypt for the first time.
So he stands against the wall, and watches the usual Saturday museum goers. Families with small children in strollers, families with older children trying to get their children to slow down enough to read the signs, and a smattering of older couples holing each other's hands.
And then there is the little girl. She is about seven years old, and she's by herself. When she first walks into the room she walks over to the models of the Egyptian heads. She gives them a nod like she's known them for a long time, like she shares a secret with them.
Then she sit down like she's contemplating something, but she doesn't read a single sign.
He sits down next to her.
"Hi," he says.
"Hi," she responds, not looking at him, but smiling absently.
"Are you here alone?" he asks.
"Of course not, my family is just so slow," she says, with an exaggerated eye roll.
"Really? 'Cause I plan on being here all day," he says. It's not a lie. He does plan on spending the day at the museum, although he doesn't exactly plan on spending it in this room.
She makes a face, "Are you going to rat me out?"
"I'm going to be a responsible adult."
"What does that mean?" she asks.
"I don't know yet," he says, looking at her carefully.
"I'm Claudia, and I ran away from home," she says.
"And I suppose your brother Jamie is with Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler," Daniel says with a smile.
"You've read that one?" she asks.
"I have read it, but I haven't lived it," he says carefully.
"I don't have a brother," she admits.
"What are you running from, honey?" he asks with such real concern.
"Nothing," she says with a sigh.
"Nothing? You just ran away from home for no reason?" Daniel asks skeptically.
"I know I should have a reason. Like my parents beat me or neglected me or just don't see me like Matilda's parents. But none of that is true."
"You like books?" he asks.
She nods her head.
"Yeah, my kids like books too. My wife and I adopted a teenager, and we've got a little boy," he says.
Her shoulders relax a little at his words, but she doesn't add to them.
"Honey, you have to go home to your parents. I'm sure they're worried about you," he says softly.
She shakes her head.
"Honey, if one of my kids was missing for a second, I'd fall apart," he says.
"I know. I go to my friend's house, and see that there are parents like that, and… it makes it worse," she says.
He looks away from her a bit.
"When I was eight years old, I was in a museum just like this with my parents. I was acting like a baby, trying to get their attention. But they were busy working - my dad was an Egyptologist and my mom was a linguist," he says.
"That was a short story," she says, knowing that he's leaving something out, although she doesn't know what or why.
"They died. A stupid accident. The point is, I would do anything to spend more time with them, even if they weren't perfect parents."
"So you're telling me to go make nice with my parents, because they are going to die?" the girl says in shock.
"Yeah, they're going to be dead someday, and you're going to miss the fights, and the silence, and the scolding, and all the things you think you hate. And you are really going to miss all the tuck-ins, and I love yous and the snuggles."
"I do," she says with a tear slowly crawling down her face.
He looks at her quizzically.
"My parents died. A couple of months ago. I've lived in a group home since then."
"So that's what you meant about no-one noticing if you're gone," he says softly. "I was lucky enough to be in foster homes most of the time."
She nods her head.
"Honey, how long have you been on your own?" he knew the way that she looked at the mummy that it was old news for her. This can't be her first day in the museum.
"Five days," she says.
He pulls a granola bar out of his bag, and hands it to her.
She looks at him in surprise.
He shrugs, "I'm a dad; we don't go anywhere without food."
She takes it gratefully, and as she chews he says, "You know that my wife and I are foster parents. I can't make you any promises, but if you come with me, I can ask the social worker to place you with us."
"I wouldn't have to go back to the group home?" she asks.
"I hope not," he says with a smile.
He reaches into her bag, and hands her a water bottle. She smiles gratefully, and twists it open.
"With all the book heroines that you know, have you heard of Constance Contraire?"*
The girl shakes her head.
"She's a smart, little, stubborn girl who runs away from home and lives in a library."
"A library; that's almost as good as a museum," the girl says.
"Yeah, and then she gets adopted by a good family," he says, knocking her shoulder.
"Sounds like a good book," the girl says.
"Maybe I'll get the change to read it to you. What's your name?"
"Olivia Faery."
He gives her a skeptical look.
"Really!" she exclaims.
"It's very fair tale," he says.
"Well, what's your name?" she challenges.
"Daniel Jackson."
"It's very owlish."
He laughs. "Ok, I am supposed to do some research here today. I'm going to talk to them for a second, and tell them I can't, and then I'm going to call a social worker. Do you know the name of yours?"
"I don't remember," Olivia says feeling foolish.
"It's ok, I'll call the one we worked with when I adopted my daughter, and I'm sure she'll know the way to contact yours. You stay here, ok?" he asks nervously.
She nods her head, and somehow, he knows that he can trust her.
-0-0-0-
Janet walks into the living room when she hears the door open. Her eyes flow from her husband to the little girl at his side.
"Olivia, this is my wife Janet, and our son William," he says, taking the boy out of his wife's arms. "Daddy loves you," he tells the boy as William drops a sloppy kiss on his neck.
He places the boy on the floor. "Janet, can I talk to you real quick in the kitchen?"
Janet nods.
"Can you make sure Will doesn't put anything in his mouth while we're gone, honey?" Janet asks.
"Sure," Olivia agrees.
-0-0-0-
"Ok, I know this is probably opening up a whole can of worms. I swear that I didn't go out this morning looking for a kid to adopt. But she ran away from her group home, and me saying we would be her foster parents was kind of crucial to her not living in the museum anymore. And I swear, if you consider adopting her, we can have a baby later," he blurts right away.
"Sweetie, we talked about adopting again. I haven't really met her yet, but there is a good chance you've just brought home a new family member."
"Yeah? And you're not mad?" he asks.
She shakes her head. "Ok, let me go meet my daughter."
Daniel grins.
She understands that her accepting this girl, this girl that she's barely met, is a roundabout way of accepting him. Accepting the part of her husband that was still a lost little boy waiting for someone to love him, unconditionally.
*The Mysterious Benedict Society wouldn't have been out when this story is set. But my dear little Olivia is going to need this heroine's strength.