Author: Scribe
Email: clark@btinternet.com
Category: A little angst; gen
Rating: PG
Season/Spoilers: At tag to Upgrades
Summary: Jack and Daniel play 'if only'.
Disclaimer: Daniel is mine, mine, mine and I refuse to share him with MGM any longer or acknowledge their claims to prior ownership. Go away nasty lawyer people. He's locked in my closet and I ain't handing over the key any time soon.
NOTE: I was tidying up my hard disk and found this little snippet lurking in a dark corner. Originally published in The Seventh Chevron 2, I don't think it's seen the light of day since.
Moments of Regret
by Scribe
George Hammond walked through the corridors of the SGC with a stern expression, barely acknowledging the polite nods and verbal greetings of his staff as he went. The unpleasant taste that had stuck in his gullet for the past few days was finally dissipating, thanks in no small measure to the fact the Tok'ra archaeologist, Anise/Freya, had left the base. His expression darkened at the memory of her departure. Oh there had been no lack of apology on her part for the fact three of his best people were now in the infirmary, but George still stood by his assertion that the Tok'ra had used SG-1 to further their own aims with little, if any concern, for the potential danger to their health and well-being.
Drawing in a sharp breath, he reached the infirmary door and with effort fixed a less-irate expression on his face. He wasn't in the habit of checking up on his people in their sickbeds, preferring to trust Janet Fraiser to keep him well-briefed and to pass on any appropriate 'get well'
messages. However, in the case of the three wayward members of SG-1 and their recent brush with alien technology he felt a personal visit was in order, if only to put closure on the whole distasteful incident as quickly as possible. Besides, it was a rare event to have both Jack O'Neill and Daniel Jackson kow-towing to him, and considering what they'd put him through over the past few days he felt they deserved another opportunity to show appropriate contrition for their actions. He was still trying to smooth the ruffled feathers of the local police chief regarding the whole O'Malley's incident, not to mention the fact that one of his best engineers was going to be out of action for at least three weeks. As he had rather succinctly commented to Fraiser, he'd been under the impression the alien armbands had been designed to enhance natural abilities, not make his people stupid.
Stepping through the door he took in the scene of medical efficiency. Carter, O'Neill and Jackson were in various states of repose on three of the beds, clearly feeling the worse for wear and receiving the attentions of the nursing staff with barely disguised ill-grace. Clearing his throat, Hammond announced his presence. "How are they, Doctor?"
As the sound of his voice, Janet Fraiser glanced up from the clipboard she was scribbling on. "General Hammond!" Masking her surprise at the unannounced visit by replacing the clipboard onto the end of Carter's bed with deliberate care, she gave him a quick summary of her patients'
well-being. "Well, apart from physical exhaustion and slight fevers they're fine."
Lying on top of the nearest bed, Jack O'Neill raised himself slowly to a sitting position. "I feel like I've run a double marathon," he complained, rubbing at his calf muscles.
"Well, Colonel," Janet replied with just a hint of sympathy. "From what I can gather you've actually done far more than that over the past few hours. Sore muscles are to be expected."
Jack flopped against his pillows with a groan. He eyed Hammond wearily. "Sir, are you sure you won't reconsider my retirement? I'm getting way too old for this."
"Not any time soon, Colonel," Hammond responded good-naturedly. "And certainly not until I've had chance to dock your pay for the repairs to my office." Smiling at O'Neill's sour look, his gaze moved to Daniel Jackson who was propped semi-upright against two pillows on the next bed, his left arm supported by a sling. "What happened to your arm, Doctor?"
Daniel gave an embarrassed grimace. "Actually General, it's my shoulder."
Janet moved to Hammond's side. "It seems when the armband ceased functioning Doctor Jackson was carrying the equivalent of several hundreds of pounds of naquadah in a backpack slung over one shoulder. As he fell, the weight wrenched some muscles. With rest and some light physiotherapy he'll be fine."
"I'll be fine," Daniel echoed, clearly preferring not to dwell on the cause of his injury or the promise of physiotherapy.
"So," Jack's voice had an impatient edge to it. "Having ascertained we're all going to be just fine - can we go now, Doctor?" He irritably tugged his arm away from the nurse, muttering under his breath that she had checked his blood pressure at least three times in the last thirty minutes.
Frasier turned a stern eye on him. "Yes, Colonel. But you're on stand-down for seventy-two hours and I don't want you leaving the base." Her gaze took in the other two team members. "Any of you!"
"Janet!" Sam Carter voiced her protest, wincing in obvious discomfort as she swung her legs off the bed. "That really isn't necessary. I feel fine except for--"
"I mean it Sam." Janet's voice adopted a no nonsense tone. "Seventy-two hours of rest and relaxation. On the base!"
Jack made a disgusted sound. "On the base? Purlease!"
Hammond somehow managed to stop the smile tickling around his mouth from breaking out. "I'm sure you'll find something to amuse yourself, Colonel. Just promise me you'll keep well away from my office while doing it."
"Yes, sir." Suitably chastened, Jack directed his gaze towards Daniel. "Gin rummy?"
Daniel shot him a tight smile. "I think I'd rather stay here."
Janet's expression crinkled mischievously. "Fine by me, Doctor Jackson. One of my nurses is doing an advanced physiotherapy course and is looking for a volunteer to--"
"I'm out of here!" Daniel announced, pulling a pained face as he levered himself off the bed using his good arm.
Smiling Janet handed him a small bottle of painkillers. "Take two of these every four hours, and-- "
"I know! I know!" Daniel interrupted. "Don't lift any heavy weights."
Hammond finally allowed himself the smallest of smiles at the antics of the team, the first vestiges of relief creeping over him. Physically they were going to be fine - something he had seriously doubted when they'd literally fallen back through the Stargate after destroying Apophis' ship, their faces pale and strained and a far better indicator of how close they'd called it than the banter that had immediately followed. Now all he had to do was hope they would find a way to work though the psychological fall-out of going from human to super-human and back again in the space of a few short hours.
*****************************
"Are you working?" Jack's tone was accusatory as he appeared at the doorway of Daniel's office the following morning, a pack of cards tucked into the breast pocket of his shirt.
"W..what?" Daniel jumped visibly, his attention pulling away from his computer screen as he turned towards Jack.
Jack smirked at the guilty expression on Daniel's face. Raising his eyebrows in amusement he stepped into the office. "Looking at dirty pictures, Daniel?"
"No!" Daniel was indignant. His hand moved to his mouse but Jack was across the room before he had chance to clear the screen. However, the Colonel's face registered disappointment as he viewed the web site Daniel had been scanning.
"The Library of Congress? You are working!"
"No, I'm not!" Daniel protested again, although slightly less vehemently. "Well, not exactly."
"Ahh!" Jack was triumphant. "You know Frasier said no working." He waggled a finger in front of Daniel's nose. "It'll cost you for me not to tell her." He produced the cards with a flourish.
Daniel pulled a face. "I'm not playing gin. Didn't you thrash me enough yesterday?"
Jack grinned. "Nope!"
Daniel sighed as his gaze drifted back to the screen.
Ignoring his friend's lack of enthusiasm, Jack flipped open the box and extracted the cards, shuffling them one-handed with practised ease. He nodded towards the sling. "You know I could teach you how to do this."
"I think I'll pass," Daniel responded, his mind clearly elsewhere.
"So if you're not 'working'.." Jack emphasised the word with air-written quotes, the card deck in his left hand. "What are you doing?"
Daniel waved at the pages of printed paper laid out on his desk. "I promised Sam I'd proofread her book." He reached for a pen, tapping it lightly on the pile. "It seemed like a good idea at the time. I figured twenty minutes - an hour tops. Of course that was when--"
"You were wearing the armband." Jack nodded sagely, as he dealt the cards. "How much have you done?"
"Ten pages. In three hours." Daniel's tone was dejected. "And I don't understand a word of it past page three." He shook his head miserably.
"So tell her you can't do it."
"I can't. I mean. I couldn't do that to her. Not right now." As Jack raised a questioning eyebrow, Daniel went on. "She'd just started the last chapter when we went on our little mission to Apophis' shipyard. So now she's trying to finish it off, and.."
"Not going well, huh?"
"You probably wouldn't want to disturb her."
"Right." Jack peered at Daniel's computer screen again. "So if you're proofing Carter's book, which is work by the way, what's with the Library of Congress website?"
"Oh that. I was just." A sad look crept over Daniel's face. "You know.." He shrugged. "Thinking."
"About.." Jack encouraged.
Daniel sighed again. "Do you have *any* regrets about what we did? The whole armband thing."
Jack didn't hesitate. "What? About blowing up Apophis' ship? Are you kidding?"
"Actually I was thinking before that." Daniel's eyes drifted back to the screen. "Do you know how many books are in the Library of Congress?"
Jack shook his head. "Nope."
"Neither do I," Daniel confessed. "But it's a lot. Just think - if I'd gone there while wearing that armband I could've. I could've read hundreds. Thousands. All that information just sitting there.." He sighed heavily, his tone self-accusing. "But no. What did I do? I started a brawl in O'Malley's."
"Oh, so that's what's bugging you." Jack snorted, picking up his cards and peering at them with an inscrutable expression. "You heard Hammond. We were under the influence of alien technology. You weren't yourself." He fixed Daniel with a stern look. "Let it go."
"Ah, yes. The patented Jack O'Neill coping mechanism." Daniel adopted a mimicking tone, stretching out the vowel sounds and bugging his eyes. "Let it goooo."
"Never knock something that works," Jack replied, refusing to be offended by the mockery.
Studiously ignoring the cards Jack had dealt him, Daniel shook his head in mild amazement. "Seriously, Jack. Don't you have any regrets about what we did?"
"Sure," Jack admitted readily. "Knocking Siler down the stairs. That was not one of my better moments."
"Right." Daniel nodded. "And then there was Teal'c."
"I thought we were talking about regrets," Jack replied smoothly, earning himself a doubletake from Daniel. He raised his hands in self-defence. "Okay. Okay. Part of me did feel sorry for knocking him out. But if I'm truthful? No. I don't regret it. It was probably the only chance I'll ever get to best Teal'c." He studied Daniel for a moment, uncertain how his honesty would be greeted and wondering if it would be reciprocated. "There is something though.."
"Oh?" Daniel's eyes widened behind his glasses.
Jack shifted uncomfortably, feeling the unexpected urge to go on a hunt for a beer. Somehow having a beer in his hand always made it easier to do the feeling stuff Daniel was so into. Or was it just that he was playing cards? Beer and cards definitely needed each other.
"Jack?" Daniel prompted.
Damn. He should never have started this. Now Daniel would worry it out of him. He pulled in a deep breath, realising he might just as well spill it quickly and get it over with.
"You know me, Daniel. Give me an hour of spare time and I'll head for the gym or round up some guys for street hockey. Being in shape - it's always been important to me. Hell, in this job, it's been essential."
Daniel nodded. "And wearing the armbands made you superfit. Yeah, I guess losing that must be pretty hard to cope with."
Jack finally looked up from his cards. "It isn't just the fitness, Daniel. I felt. young again!" He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm forty-four years old. And I like to think I'm in pretty good shape. But it's good shape for a forty-four-year old. I'm not under any illusions here - I know most of the new guys who come into the SGC are in way shape than me simply because they're way younger. But when I put that armband on. God, Daniel. I felt eighteen again. I'd forgotten what it was like to feel like - to feel invincible! To taste that again and then have it snatched away.."
There was a long pause as his words sank into.
"Ouch!" Daniel said with quiet sympathy.
Jack grimaced. "Yeah. Big ouch." He shrugged. "Thing is, Daniel, it wasn't real. The whole superfit, feeling eighteen thing. It wasn't really me." He forced a smile onto his face, determined not to wallow in self-pity. "And yes, you may mock, but I've let it go. Moved on." Holding his left hand up, he brushed his right palm against it, sweeping his hand upward. "Done, dusted, no going back." He eyed Daniel curiously and then added, "It was sure as hell fun though. So come on, I've spilled. Your turn. Admit it. You secretly enjoyed getting the better of those goons in O'Malley's. Don't tell me you didn't."
Daniel gave an embarrassed smile. "Okay. Right then and there - yeah, it felt good. But Jack, that wasn't the real me either. The whole physical thing." A hint of color crept into his cheeks. "Well, to be honest, I'd take the library over the gym any day of the week. And I can't help remembering
what was inscribed on the armbands. 'With great power comes great responsibility'. I just. I really blew it, Jack. The chance of a lifetime and I blew it."
"What this?" Scathingly Jack tapped on the computer screen. "So you could've read a whole bunch of books. So what? Trust me, unless you're planning on living forever the best place for knowledge is right there - in books, in the library, safe and sound for future generations."
Daniel considered for a moment. "I hadn't thought about it like that."
"Besides, you have more than enough stuffed between your ears as it is." Jack put down a card, taking a replacement from the deck. "What's more important, Daniel, is that you know where to find what you need when you need it. And if you ask me, that's the vital information to have in your head!" He tapped impatiently at the cards still lying in front of Daniel. "Are you going to play?"
Reluctantly Daniel reached for his cards, wincing as he awkwardly transferred them to his sling-protected hand. "There's just one flaw in your scenario."
"Oh?"
"I tend not to have access to the Library of Congress on missions."
"True. But even if you'd gone there and read until you're eyeballs fried you'd never have been up-to-date. They take in thirty-one-thousand items every day."
"Really?" Daniel was amazed. "How do you know."
"Said it right there on your screen."
Daniel peered at his computer. Sure enough the figure was given in the introductory text. "Thirty-one thousand items. Wow. That's a lot of reading."
"Yep, even with alien technology to help out. Mind you." Jack tilted his head thoughtfully ."Talking of books - I do have one regret."
"Yeah?"
"I should've read Carter's while I had the chance." Jack peered at the reams of paper on Daniel's desk. "Just once - just so I could. you know, say I'd read it!"
Daniel smiled, and then pulled open the drawer to his right. "You could try this." He pulled out a slim folder holding about fifty pages of print.
"What is it?" Setting his cards down Jack flicked open the folder and read the title. "Quantum mechanics made easy?"
"I found it on Sam's hard disk while I was waiting for this epic to print." Daniel indicated the piles of paper again. "I think she may have written it when Cassie first arrived."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "You were rummaging around on Sam's hard disk?"
Daniel blushed. "Do you know how boring it is waiting for five hundred plus pages of printout to be produced? And it's not like she's got anything personal on there. And I wouldn't have looked even if.." He stopped and shook his head. "I wasn't myself. You said it yourself - we were under the influence of alien technology. The point is, it's really good. I was going to suggest she get it published, I just couldn't figure how to tell her I knew about it without.."
"Mentioning you were.."
"Rummaging through her hard disk. Yeah." Daniel looked suitably shamefaced. He glanced furtively towards the door as though afraid Sam might suddenly walk in, and added quietly, "She doesn't know I've got a copy."
Jack looked at him. "She doesn't?"
"Nope." Daniel gave a sly smile. "So if you were to suddenly display a grasp of the subject, she'd never know why." Attempting to look casual he added, "Want me to read it to you?"
Jack glared at him and then realised Daniel was throwing his own words back at him. "Very funny. And no, thank you. I think I can manage this one on my own." He turned to the first page, obviously liking what he saw he turned it, his eyes flicking back and forth along the lines of print. Abruptly a smile cut his features. "Hey, she's got the worm-in-the-apple thing in here."
"Yep - and the doughnut thing." Daniel finally managed to fan out his cards, his eyes widening at the sight of them. "Is it my turn?"
"What?"
"Is it my turn?" Daniel repeated. "With the cards."
"Uh-huh." Jack's eyes never moved from the page.
With a flourish Daniel set down his cards. "Gin!"
"Shush!" Jack put a finger to his lips. "I'm reading."
"But I've got gin!"
"What?" Jack finally glanced up and frowned. "Oh, yeah. Great. You know this doughnut thing is really neat." He fixed Daniel with a stern look, totally unfazed by the archaeologist's exasperation. "Don't you have some work to do or something?"
<fin>