Title: Not Just A River In Egypt

Author: Caroline Corken

Fandom: Stargate SG-1

Paring: Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill

Rating: NC-17

Status: New complete

Archive: Yes please for WWOMB. Anyone else who wants it, just let me know.

E-mail address for feedback: caroline@corken33.fsnet.co.uk

Series/Sequel: First in the Plausible Denial series

Disclaimers: Stargate SG-1, Doctor Daniel Jackson and Colonel Jack O'Neill are © Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Film Corp.

Notes : First in the Plausible Denial series. With thanks to Louise for again pointing me in the right direction. Probably best to consider this story an AU as things will be taking even more of a tangent later on in the series.

Summary: Jack strives to ignore the blatantly obvious.

Warnings: Spoilers for The Serpents Lair. NC-17 due to content of future stories in this series. This story in itself would probably only get a PG. Will contain angst and main character death later in the series as well as m/m (slash) interaction. If this squicks you, well, you've been warned.

Not Just A River In Egypt
by Caroline Corken

Head bent, nose stuck in a book and a cup of fresh coffee sitting beside him, Doctor Daniel Jackson was enjoying the sunshine as he sat just off from the not too busy street, enjoying a leisurely breakfast.

It was one of those rare days. A day in which he had no obligations to anyone or anything except himself.

It was only last week that SG-1 had come home with some alien version of the flu and had been forced to stay locked up in the mountain complex while the virus had run it's course. So, when they'd finally been released from quarantine they'd been given orders to go home and relax for a couple of days.

Which was exactly what Daniel was doing.

Alright, so he was reading an artical on 12th and 13th century rib-vault English church design, but hey, he was having fun. He was relaxing. He was obeying Doctors orders god-damn-it.

Glancing up from his book, he spotted a particularly attractive woman looking just ever so slightly lost quite close by. He was just about to get up to offer any assistance he could when she asked someone passing her by on the street.

Watching her go in the direction the finger had pointed her in, Daniel resumed his reading on the transition from Romanesque to Gothic architecture. Fascinating. He'd have to mention it to Jack when he saw him.

* * * * *

It was mid day when Daniel had finally taken the hint from the café owner and moved on.

He'd just gotten lost in what he was reading, once again marvelling that he would maybe, one day come across a civilisation who had kept such things alive. How could he not get enthusiastic?

He would have ordered lunch where he was, but he'd promised to meet Jack at the one and only restaurant the two of them seemed to both like at the same time. As he thought of Jack a reluctant smile crossed his face. Four days locked up in quarantine with a Colonel who not only had an alien bug rampaging around his system, but cabin-fever? Well, by rights, any sane person would have killed him well before his second full recitation of 99 bottles of beer on a wall. By bottle 72 of the second rendition Daniel had caught on to Jack's plan exactly and had resolved to remain aloof but this had only lasted to 28 bottles before Daniel had begged him to stop. A compromise had resulted in Daniel offering to buy him lunch out in the real world.

Most of Daniel's choices of restaurants were a little too quiet for Jack's taste, not that Jack didn't enjoy secluded every once in a while. It was just most of Jack's 'locations of choice' seemed to involve being great joints for picking up women. Not that he ever seemed to do so of course. Daniel just thought it had something to do with him; his presence putting 'the hoards of adoring women who obviously find my devastatingly good looks intimidating' off of Jack.

The place in question was within walking distance, especially considering that he was a hell of a lot fitter than he used to be since he'd started planet hoping. Plus, the walk would work up his appetite. He really fancied some steak.

Funny. He always fancied steak when he met Jack for lunch.

He was just about to push open the door of the bar when he heard a soft almost feline voice and a hand touching his shoulder. "Excuse me?"

It was the same woman he's spotted earlier. The one who'd looked like she'd gotten lost on her way to a beauty pageant or something.

"Hey there. Can I help you at all?"

She smiled, one that to Daniel felt like she'd been practising for most of her life. "I'm kinda lost. I'm looking for." She looked down at the tatty looking map she held in her hand. "22 Washington Heights?"

Daniel, who really only just visited this town rather than properly lived in it, turned slightly, aligning his shoulder with hers as he looked down at her map. Reading maps? Now *that* he could do.

"Well, lets see now. . .If you. . .Ow! Hey. What. . ."

She had jabbed him with something and it hurt. For all of a second. Then it sorta went numb. Then it kinda went dark on him and he was pretty sure that was the pavement heading his way before he felt nothing at all.

* * * * *

Jack was late. But then, he figured that Daniel would know that he'd be late and would adjust accordingly, therefore making Jack right on time.

Walking down the street he was just in time to see one of those sinister black government sedans pull away from the kerb.

*Sinister Jack? Getting a little melodramatic in your old age huh?*

Still, the lack of a licence plate did nag at his soldierly mind, but it wasn't until he saw the book lying on the ground close to the door to the restaurant, the one entitled 'Design and Architecture of Early Mediaeval Europe' that he knew, just knew what had happened.

He looked up, book in hand just in time to see the sedan pull around the corner.

"Ahh crap!"

* * * * *

"Wakey wakey Doctor Jackson."

Water hit him in the face, causing him to jerk slightly and open his eyes and admit to consciousness well before he was ready.

"Wha. . ." He felt his eyes closing again of their own accord.

"I said. . ." A sharp blow to the face, and he felt himself waken up just that little bit more. His mouth was as dry as hell and he found himself wiping his tongue out onto his lips to lick at the water there. He finally looked up, not recognising the face that was looking down at him.

He coughed, trying to find the energy to speak. "Don't. . .see how you," He coughed loudly, his throat really dry. "Can complain if you give me a sedative."

"True. Still, I think we'll begin all the same." The man stepped back of the pool of light that surrounded him, back into the shadows. "Tell me your name?"

Daniel swallowed, tongue thick in his mouth. "You already know my name."

"And we want to hear it again. From you. What is your name?"

He greeted the question with silence.

"Please, we have far more painful methods of extraction. You don't really want us to start using them at this stage of the game, do you?"

Daniel felt a shiver crawl down his spine. He'd been tortured before, and by some pretty sadistic bastards in his time, but as always, the *threat* of it at the start was the worst. Which he suspected they knew and knew well, probably from practise. Lots and lots of practice.

"What is your name?"

He tried to speak again, but this time it was too much and he started to hack, trying to speak, his throat unbearably dry.

Realising this wouldn't work unless he could actually speak, a different man came out of the shadows, Daniel noting just how similar he was to the first. There was something. . .

He had no more time to think as he felt a glass being held to his lips, clinking almost musically as it hit his teeth. Still, he didn't care as he gulped the cool, refreshing liquid down, feeling it taking the edge off the pain he felt in his throat.

"Enough." The soldier. . .*soldier? Where the hell did I get that idea from?* He knew though. He'd seen enoughmilitary types to recognize them, but they didn't leave him time to give it any more thought.

He stepped back, leaving Daniel alone once again in the light. "What is your name?"

"Doctor Indiana Jones."

A sigh came the shadows. "I see we're going to have to do this the old fashioned way."

* * * * *

"You have *got* to be kidding me!"

Jack took one look at the General's face and immediately knew better. "All right all right, you're not kidding. That is your least kidding face I've ever seen, but sir, this is a complete crock of shit. You know it and I know it."

"Of course I know it. Doctor Jackson's loyalties have never been called into question in regards to any aspect of his life. But the problem is Colonel, that it's not us who have the doubts."

Jack paced, angrier than he knew he should be, especially if he wanted to be of any help to Daniel. "Then who sir? Cause there is no weak link in this chain. I'd trust Daniel with my life. Hell, I owe him my life. As does every other member of my team"

Hammond sighed. "I know Jack. Every single member of SGC 1 has saved the life of the other, and of this very planet more times than it'd be wise to count."

"So who sir? Who has him?"

He could tell from the look on his commanding officer's face that he knew. He knew who was behind this even if he wasn't able to prevent it. He could only hope that the General could see what was written on his face, that he could see all that Daniel meant to him just from looking at the worry he knew was written all over him.

"Colonel Maybourne."

Jack almost exploded back from his commanding officer's desk. "That son of a bitch? Where is he? I'll kill him myself."

"Jack. . ." Warning tone, one he'd heard before only this time, with a little something else to back it up. His own anger.

"Sir!?! You can't be telling me you condone this course of action?"

Uh oh. Wrong choice of words. "Of course I don't Colonel! I'm as angry about this as you are. But as of right now, there's nothing we can do. I was only told of this after Dr. Jackson had been taken. I've been given assurances that no harm will come to him. . ."

"This is so not good. This is so not good on a scale that defies description." Jack sighed, trying to release some of the anger he felt, hoping that he could calm down enough to be of some help to Daniel. "Sir, you do realise that Daniel may never work for the military again after this? His loyalty being called into question, after everything he's *done* for this country? This whole god-damn planet. . ."

"I know Jack. Daniel has every right to consider his future here. I think we both know however that this is just another attempt by Maybourne to undermine this program."

Jack nodded, looking out at the Stargate that sat in silence. "He's going for what he assumes is the weakest member in the hope to bring our unit and our program into disrepute. To try and get something on us." Jack felt himself smile, a grim sort of endeavour he aimed squarely at Hammond. "Then I guess the sneaky bastard doesn't know Daniel as well as he thinks he does."

"No Colonel, I guess he doesn't."

* * * * *

An old nursery rhyme kept going around and around in his head.

Ring-a-ring a rosy

A pocket full of posies,

A-tissue! A-tissue!

We all fall down. . .

Of course, it sounded fairly harmless enough. Children had been singing it for years, little realising exactly what it actually meant. . .

Death in the form of disease, spreading it's path over Europe, old wives tails of remedies, of garlands of flowers to ward away the encroaching death. . .

He vaguely felt himself being hauled forcibly back up from the floor. A sharp slap to his face brought him back to reality. Pity, he thought.

"Tell us everything Doctor Jackson and all of this can simply. . . go away." He stepped into the circle of light, Daniel feeling pleased on some level that wasn't hurting that he'd made them come to *him*.

"That. . .that would imply there was something to tell. Now, if you want to know about cuneiform or the similarities of the gapped concentric circles at Stonehenge to those of north-west Spain. . ."

Another slap and through the ringing in his ears he almost thought he heard a familiar voice whisper somewhere out in the dark. "He's not responding to this. Try something else. . ."

Try something else. Jesus, hadn't they tried enough? His ribs where killing him and if he were being completely honest with himself, the only thing that was stopping him from blabbing, from telling them everything they wanted to know from when he lost his virginity to Jack O'Neill's preferred type of briefs, was the expression he knew would be on Jack's face when he heard that Daniel had broke.

Pity, and a complete understanding that Daniel Jackson had had little other choice in the matter.

He'd rather face Jack's anger than his pity.

Mummers from the darkness.

". . .only so long. . ."

". . .can't guarantee. . ."

". . .given us nothing. . ."

He shook his head, trying to clear it, trying to ready himself for another attack, clinging to the sympathy he heard among the whispers, trying to ignore the clear anger of a single voice.

Sounds, then someone coming towards him again.

He said nothing as someone else approached, another new face to remember. He struggled to move away, despite the constraints. "What are you doing?"

He saw the syringe and immediately felt a panic arise in him. "No! Get. . .off me!" The needle slipped almost painlessly into a vein and immediately he felt something rush through him, something. . .something. . .warm.

He felt his whole body begin to relax in a wonderful. . .free fall kind of way.

Almost as if he were "Floating."

Another voice, one he vaguely recognised this time, one that seemed to hold a trace of sympathy and compassion and really, wasn't he being a bit rude in *not* helping them? If he helped them, wouldn't they leave him alone?

"That's right Doctor Jackson. It is like floating. You don't have a care in the world. . ."

Care? Of course he cared. He cared a hell of a lot. He cared about. . .

"Jack. . ."

"What about Jack Daniel? It's all right if I call you Daniel isn't it?"

He laughed, a goofy sound even to his ears. "Sure, you can call me Daniel. Or Danny." He laughed again, laughing a little harder when he realised just how much it hurt. "You can't call me Space Monkey though, ok?"

"Alright Daniel. It's ok. You're safe here. Is there something you want to tell me about Jack?"

Maybourne! It was Maybourne "What about. . .Jack?"

"Concentrate Daniel. Tell me about Jack? What's. . .what's his favourite colour?"

Oh, this was an easy one. He felt his head loll back, an image of Jack dressed in black commando gear, black smudged on his face, looking so. . .military.

"Black. . .Jack in black. . ." He liked Jack in black. *Maybe you should have told him that *before* you were kidnapped*.

"Tell me about the Stargate Daniel? Where is it's location?"

An image of Jack again came into his head, that one filled with disappointment and pity and Daniel realised just as he opened his lips that if he said anything about the Stargate, Jack really would be looking at him like that. And he hated it when Jack looked at him like that.

He smiled, groggily, feeling a lot more like he was drunk now than anything else. "What's. . .what's a Stargate?"

"Damn-it!"

Silence, and after a moment or two, Daniel thought he was alone. . .except for the voices that started up again.

"We have no reason to continue this course of action. . ."

". . .I want O'Neill!. . ."

"I have my orders. . ."

Daniel started laughing again. He had his orders too. It was just, right this moment? He couldn't seem to remember what they were.

* * * * *

Jack had been a pain in the ass at the mountain, stalking the corridor's and barking at the grunts an awful lot. It hadn't helped. Much.

No one else knew about Daniel. Carter was off planet spending a little time with her father, while Teal'c was off as well, doing.well, O'Neill didn't have a clue really. Probably something painful by candle-light.

Eventually he'd found himself outside Daniel's office, almost about to knock on the door, despite the fact that he never usually did anyway.

He sighed, knowing that he wasn't in there anymore than he was anywhere else on the base. Turning, he decided to just head on home. . .

Which was where he sat now, bottle of beer in hand, right beside the telephone, swearing that the next time he saw Maybourne *and there will be a next time you prick* he was going to rip the man a new. . .

Car lights shone brightly through his front window, drawing him up to his feet and reaching for his weapon before he'd even consciously decided to do so. By the time he'd reached the door, the sounds of tires squealing as they drove off again in a hurry were already fading as he threw open his front door.

"Jesus. . ."

He ran to the body lying on the ground, seeing some faint movement that still didn't elevate the fear that washed through his body on a tide of adrenaline.

"Daniel!?!"

Voices from not too far away and he turned, seeing his neighbours out and looking at him, wondering what the strange man who hardly seemed to live in his own house was up to now.

He didn't give a damn though. "Come on Daniel. Up on your feet. That's an order."

"Jack?"

He crouched down, slipping an arm underneath Daniel's, pulling him unsteadily to his feet as he slipped on the grass.

"Walk Daniel. Come on, come on. Let's get you inside."

Daniel nodded. "Sure. . .inside. I can do inside. . .Jack? Is that you?"

"Yeah. It's me."

Daniel staggered to the front door along with him, Jack the only real thing keeping Daniel on his feet.

"Good. . .I'd hate it not to be. . .you."

They made it to the front door before he passed out again.

* * * * *

It was dark were he was, but there were voices close by, and as hard as he wanted to ignore them, he was pretty sure they were talking about him.

Slowly, head pounding he opened his eyes, wondering just where the hell he was this time.

"It's good to see you awake Daniel. How are you feeling?"

Caring, considerate eyes were looking down at him, everything behind her unfamiliar as he realised he didn't know this place.

"Fine. . .apart from all the pain. My head feels like. . ."

"You were drugged, but there doesn't appear to be any ill effects from that. You've got some bruising, but it appears that you at least where beaten by professionals."

"Oh, well, lucky me."

A slightly blurred face he recognised peeked around a door behind Fraiser. "He up yet?"

"Yes. I'd like to get him back to base. "

Daniel sat up in the bed he was in, realising that he was actually in Jack's bed. "But you just said that there was nothing wrong with me."

"Well. . ."

He sighed, running a hand over his face. "Look, I can come in in the morning alright?"

"Daniel. . ."

He heard the warning tone to her voice, knew he'd have to work quick to get his way. "Look, right now, all I want is to sleep in my own bed. I promise, if I feel ill I'll call straight away."

She shook her head. "I'm not going to let you go home like this. No, I flatly refuse. . ." Jack cut her off.

"Look, he can stay here. I'll keep an eye on him and tomorrow I'll bring him in. Come on Doc, those beds in sickbay aren't all that comfy."

Looking less sure of herself, Daniel went for the clincher. "I'm tired. I just want to go back to sleep. And this bed is pretty comfy."

Jack piped up again. "It is. I've slept there myself on occasion."

"Fine. Just make sure he drinks plenty of fluids and let him sleep for as long as he likes. Come in anytime tomorrow."

"Will do."

She eyed Jack suspiciously. "Right. Well, I'd better be off." She turned back to look at Daniel. "Tomorrow Doctor Jackson. Don't make me come looking for you."

"No ma'am."

Finally satisfied, she offered him a smile. "Sleep well."

O'Neill stood aside to let her through the door, following her as she disappeared, leaving Daniel alone in the soft light of Jack's room.

He felt terrible. His ribs were sore and he just knew that if he stood, he'd be seeing the floor again pretty damn quick. And then there was everything else.

Like who the hell had done this to him. Images flashed before his eyes, vaguely familiar yet strange too. If only they'd stay still long enough for him to get a good look. Leaning back against the pillow, he closed his eyes, determined to concentrate and try to salvage a clue from his mind.

* * * * *

Jack had gone down to the door with Fraiser, getting a repeat of what she'd just said on how to look after the patient. He knew better than to deviate from her instructions. Janet could hurt you in ways you couldn't even imagine.

"Call me if anything happens. Anything, all right Jack?"

He nodded, smiling at her. She had been just as pissed off as he'd been the minute she'd been clued in.

"Anything. Can do Doc."

She smiled back. "See you tomorrow Jack."

He went back to the kitchen, getting a glass and filling it with some ice before turning on the tap, letting it gush first before he was satisfied.

He was trying so hard not to think about what he'd do to Maybourne when he seen him next. No point in upsetting Daniel just yet. Not when he was still a little out of it.

And he wasn't looking forward to telling him *why* this had been done in the first place.

Climbing the stairs, he came to his room, the light dim, Daniel curled up in the foetal position under his blankets. Heavy, yet regular breathing letting him know that the archaeologist was asleep and also hadn't had any anti-histamines in a while.

Setting the glass and jug down on the bedside table, Jack sat down on the edge of the bed to get a proper look at Daniel now that he was here in front of him and knew he was going to be ok.

Even while getting the sleep he so rightly deserved, he looked. . .tired. Worried looking.

Dark circles that had more to do with the drug slowly working it's way out of his system stained around his eyes and if he was being honest, Daniel really needed a shower. He smelled of something like gasoline, and he thought that maybe they'd taken him somewhere that stored the stuff. His hair was a mess too.

He suddenly pulled his hand away from Daniel's forehead as if he'd been burnt. He'd reached out to brush a lock of hair away from his eyes, only he'd neglected to take it away once he'd done so.

"Jack?"

Jack felt slightly panicked only he didn't even know why. "Yeah?"

Daniel didn't reply, instead rubbing his face against the pillow for a moment like a contented cat. Jack had to concede that *now* he looked comfortable.

Pulling the blanket up around Daniel's shoulders, Jack stood and backed out of the room, leaving the lamp light by the door on. He knew what it was like to wake up in a strange place; definitely better *not* to do it in the dark if you could help it.

Leaving the door open a little, Jack headed for his spare room, the one Daniel would very occasionally use if he was ever over.

Yet he still wasn't tired at all. If anything he was wide awake. Sighing, he went back down to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water himself.

He ran the tap, letting it spill over the rim and over his hand, the one that he'd been caressing Daniel with.

What the hell had he been doing? Touching him like that?

Well, he was concerned. Daniel was one of the team; a friend. Of course he was concerned. Who wouldn't be? Right? Right. He'd touched Daniel in a much more intimate way back when the Goa'uld had been heading for earth and the touch in the bedroom hadn't meant any more now than it did then. It didn't mean anything more than showing he cared for his best friend. Just like before.

He thought back to that moment on Apophis' ship, Daniel lying propped up against the wall, both of them knowing full well that he hadn't got long to live and that Jack couldn't get him out no matter how much he wanted to. . .

But they'd both known that it had to be done. Daniel had seen some version of his friends die by the hand of Apophis, had watched as they gave their lives for some other reality; a chance they'd never had. To not act, to not do all that he could to try and prevent that happening again would have been too much for Daniel Jackson to bare.

Jack had pushed all that he wasn't able and didn't have time to say into that single touch. That he wished Daniel didn't have to die like that, alone, while giving them the chance they needed to escape. That Jack O'Neill would personally tear himself up inside every single waking moment because he'd had to leave a man behind. That he'd had to leave his best friend behind.

He'd managed to hold it all together though. He had to. He had people to get out and home safely. *His* people. They where relying on him just as much as Daniel had been. Yet, up until that moment in the gate-room, all he could think of was the look in Daniels eyes as he'd told him: *I'll hold them off Jack*.

Jack had watched men die under his command before. Watched them give up their lives for what they believed in, all the while trying to hide that look in their eyes that screamed defiance at death. That hope that they where too important to die, that *something* would save them.

Not Daniel. The look Jack had caught in his eyes had held a still kind of peace that Jack had fully understood. *If I'm to die this way, doing *this* then it was worth it.*

But he hadn't. He'd thought out of the box and put himself into one, saving himself and Jack that day once again.

If it hadn't been for Daniel, his courage and ability to make others care, then the Earth would most likely be lying in ruins right now.

And this was how he was repaid.

He finally turned off the tap, shifting the glass to the other hand as he shook off the access water on the other. He didn't want to think of Daniel dying. Not when he was lying upstairs in his bed, fast asleep. Safe. Safe and probably having enough nightmares right now for the both of them.

Checking everything was locked up tight, he sighed before heading back up the stairs. He had tomorrow off but he was still going to have to take Daniel back to the Mountain.

He peeked back through the door, noting that Daniel hadn't moved, but was still snoring loudly. Things were getting back to normal. Well, as normal as things got without your daily dose of anti-histamine anyway.

Climbing into bed himself, Jack tossed and turned for a little while before he finally gave into the notion that Daniel really was ok. There were no Goa'uld knocking at the door and his archaeologist was fast asleep and safe in his bed in the next room.

Feeling better about things in general, he rolled over onto his side and started counting sheep. When that didn't work he started counting all the different ways he was going to get Maybourne back for this, falling asleep at number 5; hearing the bastard's body colliding with the Iris on his way back through the Stargate.

Jack fell asleep with a smile on his face.

The End