Identity badge in hand, Daniel Jackson drove up to the first security gate at the entrance to Cheyenne Mountain, hours early for the start of his workday, rolling down his window to speak the airman on duty there. Before he could open his mouth, the soldier, said, "Dr. Jackson? General Hammond has been trying to contact you; this way please, sir."
Instantly worried because the leader of Star Gate Command wouldn't be looking for him at this time of night unless there was a problem, Daniel got out of his car, surrendering it to another guard to park, and followed yet a third to the emergency access elevator that by-passed the regular check-in routine. Automatically going through the motions for getting clearance, he ran the details of SG1's most recent missions through his mind, but couldn't find one that could be responsible for an urgent summons.
As the elevator began the long descent, Daniel leaned on the wall and sighed, rubbing at his eyes under his glasses. At times, he wondered why he bothered to keep off-base quarters at all. Once, it had been a promise to himself that he would find his wife, Sha'uri, and bring her back to Earth with him. Later, he supposed it was a last ditch effort to deny that he was being consumed mind, body, and soul by his duties as part of SGC's first and best team. Now... now, when he was home, Daniel wanted to be on base, working in his laboratory or exploring with Jack and the others. Yet when he was at Cheyenne Mountain, he wanted to be anywhere else, doing anything else.
Not that there were many options for a linguist who had virtually vanished off the face of the planet as far as the academic world was concerned. Daniel hadn't published since returning from Abydos, and, after fighting for his life and the existence of the entire human race, taking a job as a teacher in some small college somewhere didn't have much appeal. The business world was a possibility, he supposed, but found it even harder to imagine himself having any interest at all in the petty Machiavellian machinations of the average corporate office.
Fighting down frustration and a sense of futility that was growing increasingly difficult to deny, he was grateful when the door opened, and all but ran for the control room where the last soldier had told him Hammond was waiting.
Hammond and the rest of SG1 glanced over at him as Daniel came in, but the majority of their attention was clearly on the Gate Room. "There you are," the general said. With a gesture at the glass partition, he asked, "Friends of yours, Dr. Jackson?"
Mystified, Daniel stood to one side where he wouldn't be seen, looked through the window at the Star Gate, then blinked in surprise at the change in it. Unconsciously, he stepped closer to the glass, putting a hand on it as if to touch the shimmering surface of the gate itself. In total defiance of the way he understood it operated, the event horizon was totally still, giving the impression that it was a mirror instead of a pool of quicksilver. The effect was so startling that it took several seconds for him to notice the two men standing in front of it.
A taller man dressed in standard fatigues, wearing the collar brass of a colonel and the patch for SG1, stood behind a smaller, younger man whose apparel Daniel could only call eclectic. The soldier gave the impression of guarding his companion: a mini-Uzi held at ready, vivid blue eyes constantly scanning the area, face expressionless with what Daniel had come to associate as the kind of concentration a really good soldier used when on alert. There was something vaguely familiar about him, about the way he held himself, but Daniel couldn't put his finger on what it was and turned his attention to the other man.
He seemed about ten years younger than his guard. The silver threading its way through the shoulder-length auburn curls was decidedly less abundant than nearly total gray of the soldier, and there were fewer lines around his darker blue eyes. There was also a lively enthusiasm in the way he was looking around, as if he expected to see interesting surprises in every corner, not enemies. His choice in clothes added to the impression of youth was his choice, which seemed to have been taken from a variety of historical eras, as if a child had gone through a costume box picking out whatever suited his fancy.
A medieval peasant style shirt was tucked into fringed buckskin pants and topped by a patchwork vest made from brightly colored and luxurious fabrics. Sneakers completed the outfit, and it was complimented in an odd way by a metal circlet encompassing the visitor's head, which dipped to a 'v' in the center of the wide brow, holding back the long hair from his face. It also showed off hoop earrings in one ear, and a feather that had been braided into a lock behind it, tip pointed down as if it were worn by a Native American medicine man.
The earrings made Daniel flip his gaze back up to the soldier. He hadn't been mistaken; there was a small hoop dangling from a pierced lobe, though at the distance he couldn't tell more about it. It was that one bit of unconventionality that triggered his recall, though he couldn't give a rational explanation for it.
"Captain Jim Ellison," he murmured, the memories of learning Chopec customs from the withdrawn man he'd visited in Johns Hopkins coming to the front of his mind.
"Then you do know him," Jack said from right beside him.
Jumping because he hadn't seen his friend and team leader come close, Daniel said, "Well... sort of. But not really... that is...." He waved at the two men below them. "The one I know is only about forty now, and he left the Rangers years ago. Last I heard he'd gone back to his hometown and joined the sheriff's office or police department. Something like that." At the flash of exasperation on O'Neill's face, he added hastily, "So does Sam think the Gate's being used for time travel or does the change to a mirror mean it's somehow being used to cross dimensions?"
"Why does everybody get these things but *me*?" Jack grumbled.
Sam caught Daniel's eye, smiling at the colonel's complaint before explaining, "Over an hour ago, the Gate opened, with SG1's signal code being transmitted through it. About the time we recovered from that, those two stepped through and calmly asked to speak to Dr. Daniel Jackson. Other than that, they haven't said anything else, no matter who talks to them."
"Over an hour ago? But that's...."
"Well past the thirty-eight minutes the wormhole is supposed to stay stabilized, I know," Sam cut in.
Noticing something odd about the Gate Room itself, he gestured at it asked, "Aren't there supposed to be armed troops in there with them?"
"There was an incident," Teal'c said solemnly, coming to stand on Daniel's other side, his view to the Gate Room partly blocked by the wall. "I believe one of the soldiers on duty became un-nerved by both the change in the Gate and the demeanor of the two men that traveled through. He discharged his weapon in an untimely manner."
"Untimely manner?" Daniel raised both eyebrows and directed his question to Jack.
"One of the grunts got spooked, had an itchy trigger finger and loosed a round," Jack translated, grinning at the chance to turn the tables for a change. "Get this; it bounced off of one of those shield thingies that the Ga'ould use for self-defense. Then grampa there started to return fire, but junior stopped him before he could. Seemed like a good idea to pull the troops back to the other side of the door until we get things straightened out, show of good will, sorta."
"Tok'ra?" Daniel asked uncertainly. Studying the unorthodox pair again, he shook his head. The Tok'ra, for all their assertions that the host and renegade Ga'ould shared custody of the body equally, had an air of arrogance and superiority about them that always set his teeth on edge. If anything, the two visitors reminded him of when he first started traveling through the Gate with Jack in search of Apophis and his captives - him continually fascinated by what he found, the colonel forever on guard and looking for danger.
"I don't think so," Sam said from her seat at the control board, doing her own inspection. "It's too far for me to feel for sure, but they just don't look right, if that makes any sense."
"Not to mention the Tok'ra would never wait so patiently," Hammond agreed. "We'd be knee deep in demands by now, otherwise."
Daniel watched the taller man bend slightly to speak quietly into his companion's ear, eyes on the control room as if expecting a reaction from that direction at his actions. The younger man nodded and said something back, smiling. "Well, one way to learn anything," Daniel said suddenly. "Go ask."
He started to leave, but Teal'c blocked his way as Jack laid a restraining hand on his shoulder, and spoke up. "Whoa! Your commanding officers haven't decided that's the plan of action. Besides, there's no reason you can't talk to them from here; it's safer."
"But not very polite," Daniel argued. "Look, whether they're from our future or an alternate universe, they obviously have superior technology on their side. What harm can it do to act as if they're welcome until they prove hostile? Not to mention it'd be odd to simply walk up and knock on the door and ask for me - in a manner of speaking - if they meant to hurt me or something."
"At times," Teal'c said seriously, "the direct approach is the most effective means to attack. Unless you can determine their intent, caution is advisable."
Turning to Hammond, hoping that the general would take his side, Daniel said, "Sir, they haven't offered any violence at all, even when we shot first. What harm can it do to treat this as a diplomatic visit?"
"Dr. Jackson has a point," Hammond agreed reluctantly. "If our visitors are from the future, whatever they need must be critical indeed, to risk changing their entire world just to speak to us. If they're from an alternate, then it's their lives that are at stake because of the temporal distortion caused by two identical people occupying the same universe, as Major Carter reminded us earlier. Either way, a little diplomacy isn't too much to ask."
When Jack started to protest, Hammond held up a hand. "Which doesn't mean that Dr. Jackson goes in unprotected." He nodded at Teal'c. "Go down to the armory and bring up a staff and two zat guns; they have the best chance of getting through a personal shield. Then you and the rest of SG1 will wait outside the door. That'll be close enough to provide assistance *if* necessary."
Before Daniel could express his thanks, the general fixed a stern eye on him. "Which is not to mean, Dr. Jackson, that you forget all caution. Stay back at the bottom of the ramp, and at the first sign of trouble, I want you running as if Apophis, himself, is after you. Do I make myself clear?"
Feeling very much like a scolded kid, but warmed by Hammond's concern regardless, Daniel muttered, "Yes, sir."
"Very well, then. Get to it, people."
While everyone else got into position, Daniel studied the two visitors, not sure what he was looking for but not wanting to miss some clue that would help solve the mystery of when or where they came from. Ellison was talking to his companion again, both of them taking on a subtle air of expectation, as if they knew the wait was over. Frowning, wondering if he were misreading them and how far removed from his Earth they had to be if he were misunderstanding something that simple, he made his way to the corridor outside the Gate Room, nodding absently at Hammond when he signaled a go-ahead with his own nod.
The silence on the other side of the door was vaguely ominous, but Daniel ignored that perception and concentrated on crossing to the ramp with as much confidence as he could fake. Stopping at the foot of it as ordered, he said blandly, "Hi. You were asking for me?"
Ellison dropped his weapon down to one side, and with an oddly formal gesture that sketched a connection one man to the other, said, "Dr. Blair Sandburg, this is Dr. Daniel Jackson."
As if it were a rehearsed cue, Sandburg stepped forward several paces, smiling graciously. "PhDs in anthropology and Psychology, not a physician."
"Linguistics and anthropology," Daniel replied automatically, feeling absurdly as if he were at a faculty mixer at Oxford. "Which you probably already know," he added as an afterthought.
Sandburg's smile brightened a shade more toward the friendly and away from the official. "The only thing that's ever changed is how many languages you speak," he admitted honestly.
"Really?" Daniel asked curiously. "I'm at twenty-five and counting right now, though it seems I'm always running into a new language I absolutely have to learn."
"Gate travel will do that, even when the DHD is working right and converting language patterns for you," Sandburg agreed.
From behind him, Daniel could almost hear Sam's excited intake of air; they had been speculating forever on why the SG teams had started understanding the language of nearly everyone they met. "The DHD?" he repeated questioningly, hoping to encourage the other man.
Disappointingly, Sandburg shook his head and said, "I'd love to give you more, honestly, but we're working on a tight schedule. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?"
"Of course not... but I can't promise I can or will answer them," Daniel said promptly.
"Fair enough. Are you on one of the Star Gate Teams?"
It was hardly what Daniel was expecting, but he didn't see any reason not to answer honestly. "SG1 as a matter of fact."
Surprisingly, Dr. Sandburg's smile brightened even more, but all he said was, "Have you met the Asgards yet, in their true form?"
That one made Daniel glance up to the control room where Hammond was watching the proceedings, and at receiving a nod from him, Daniel said, "Yes, though I wouldn't call us allies, we've helped each other on occasion."
"You've helped them? Then they're beset by the Replicators. Damn." Sandburg looked down at the ground for a moment, shrugged with his hands, and asked, "Has Apophis taken Sokar's forces over, yet?"
"Last year, and he's been occupying himself with securing his position among the other System Lords since. Can I ask why you're asking these particular questions?"
Ignoring Daniel for the moment, Sandburg looked back over his shoulder at his bodyguard. "That's everything the Sams said we should check for. Go or stay?"
Turning in a small circle Ellison surveyed the entire room as if he could see through the walls or read the history of it from the way it was painted. His head was up, nostrils flaring, reminding Daniel of a great beast warily searching for signs of predators. "I don't know," he said finally. "There's something not right, something off that I can't put my finger on."
Acting on a hunch, Daniel said directly to the soldier, "At least tell me why you came. Please?"
Coming down a few steps, Ellison said slowly, "We're not deliberately being a pain in the ass, Dr. Jackson, but what we're trying to do is important, and we're short on time."
He put a hand on the shoulder of Dr. Sandburg, obviously to urge him to leave, and Daniel blurted, "Wait, wait. At least, talk to somebody else, first; General Hammond or Jack O'Neill, one of our scientists, anybody."
The two visitors exchanged a glance, and though Daniel couldn't read what was said in it, one thing was clear by the time Dr. Sandburg looked back at him. Whatever else they were to one another, Sandburg and Ellison were long-time lovers and didn't bother to hide it. Startled, because the Jim Ellison he knew was uncompromisingly straight, he had to haul his attention back to the subject at hand, almost missing Dr. Sandburg's next words.
"It can't hurt, if it's only for a minute. Maybe O'Neill?"
Sandburg sounded as if he wanted to be convinced, and Daniel said hastily, "He's right outside." He half-turned toward the entrance to the Gate Room, intending to call for Jack, but he and the rest of SG1 were already on their way in, Sam pushing to the front. He started to smile at her to tease her for her scientific eagerness, but a flash of motion at the corner of his eye made him spin back toward Ellison.
Weapon on the way up, pushing his companion behind him, Ellison barked, "Jaffar!
Without thinking, Daniel stepped in front of the gun, hands going up defensively. "Stop! Stop! He's a friend, a teammate!"
Apparently not hearing him, Ellison backed up the ramp, keeping his body between Sandburg and the people frozen at the door. "Jim, no!" Sandburg pushed at the broad back in front of him, not budging his bodyguard in the least. "Daniel says he's a friend!"
"He's Apophis' First Prime," Ellison growled back, but he halted where he was, gun still at the ready.
"Was, *was*!" Daniel said emphatically. "He's been a member of SG1 nearly from the first, the main reason we weren't over-run by Apophis long ago."
Moving cautiously, Sandburg inched around his bodyguard and laid a restraining hand on his wrist. "That could be it, the missing element we've been looking for. A First Prime would have the kind of information and contacts that could make the difference."
"What kind of Earth, what kind of SGC would befriend a Jaffar!" Jim snapped back. "That's what's wrong with this place; it stinks of Ga'ould!"
"The kind," Jack said defiantly from his place in front of Teal'c, "That knows the difference between an enemy being forced to fight and one who really wants to kill you. Tricky judgment call, I'll give you that, but not impossible."
From where he stood Daniel could clearly see the tension in the trigger finger on the gun, and Ellison didn't look at all convinced by what anyone had had to say. Though Sandburg had apparently decided it was better to urge his companion toward the Star Gate to leave after all, Daniel wasn't at all sure that the soldier wouldn't take a chance to kill a Jaffar if he could. Remembering how deadly accurate the Ellison he knew had been, Daniel sent an apologetic thought his alien teammate's way and said in Quencha, "Please, don't hurt my hunting brother. He owns my heart."
That got through. Ellison shot a single, sharp look his way, and Daniel did his best to meet it openly, hoping the lie of declaring Teal'c was his lover didn't show on his face.
"You claim him and speak for his honor?" Ellison asked shortly, in the same language.
Hiding his relief, Daniel said with pure honesty, "I place his before my own."
From behind him, Jack said irritably, "English, Daniel. English."
Keeping his attention on the hard blue eyes staring into his own, Daniel said, switching to his native tongue, "English isn't necessarily the best language to use in this case, Jack."
"Jim," Sandburg said urgently, "He's right. Use the language you know best and *look* at them."
As if compelled by the order himself, Daniel looked over his shoulder at his teammates, but didn't see anything that he hadn't expected to see. Jack and Sam were standing in front of Teal'c, weapons poised, their determination to defend him clear. His Jaffar friend was wearing his most impassive expression, his pained resignation at the necessity of letting others fight for him showing only to those who knew how to read him. Daniel noticed distractedly but with pleasure that several of the guards had stepped close as well, to give their support, and gave his attention back to his visitors.
Ellison slowly lowered his gun, the muscle in the right side of his jaw bouncing from some emotion. "And you think it could be the reason?" he asked his companion.
"Reason for what, son?" Hammond asked, coming into the Gate Room and calmly joining Daniel.
Carefully letting his weapon droop until it was butt up, the colonel extended it toward Hammond. "The reason why this Earth hasn't been burned to a cinder, like every other earth that we've seen that was in the new millennium."
"Including our own," Dr. Sandburg said tiredly.
"You're refugees, then?" Hammond kept his face neutral, and took the gun.
"More like missionaries," Sandburg corrected. He slowly, carefully, took a small handgun from a shoulder holster under his vest, and like his companion, surrendered it to General Hammond. "Our Earth fought the Ga'ould for a long, long time. We learned things, developed weapons and techniques, made allies - ultimately we lost, yes, but that doesn't mean we want the knowledge to vanish. Like the remaining SG Teams of our universe, Colonel Ellison and I have been hopping from alternity to alternity, trying to find the one that could use it best. I'm really, seriously hoping it's this one. The temporal distortion is accumulative."
"Understood," Hammond said. He added in surprisingly gentle tones, "You'll forgive us, but you're going to have to undergo standard decon procedures before we can talk any further. We've had far too many close calls with Ga'ould sabotage tactics to take you at face value without it."
"Yes, sir," Ellison agreed, his attitude saying he hadn't expected anything less.
Echoing him, Sandburg started down the ramp, but before either of them could take more than a step, the general asked, "The Gate, gentlemen?"
"As long as we're here, it'll stay like that," Ellison said flatly. "Anybody off planet can still dial in, but for the time being, no one can dial out. It also stops the iris from closing, but if the wrong person tries to come through, we can very easily arrange a nasty surprise."
"Very well." It was clear that Hammond didn't like that, but wasn't going to make an issue of it just yet. "Dr. Jackson, will you accompany our guests to the infirmary? Teal'c will go as well. Perhaps if they see for themselves how valuable his expertise can be, it will help put their minds at ease."
From the sudden increase of tension radiating off both men in front of him, Daniel didn't know if that was such a good idea, but he knew better than to argue with Hammond this time. The real reason the general wanted Teal'c with them was most likely because, if this was some sort of elaborate Ga'ould scheme, the Jaffar had the best chance of both discovering and disarming it. When Hammond moved aside to walk on the other side of them, Daniel obeyed the implied order and started for the infirmary. Knowing Ellison's temper, he couldn't help but worry on the way how many times he would end up playing peacemaker before the day was over.
* * *
Whether it was called an infirmary, a sickbay or a hospital, one thing was certain as far as Jim was concerned: he hated them all. He hated the smell, hated the nonstop buzz and beep of the multitude of machinery, hated the way patients were treated as meat on the hoof. He especially hated them when he was hurting, like now, with pain making his senses and instincts hard to control. Constant exposure to hospitals hadn't helped a bit, and he sat on the edge of examination table, clenching the metal frame to keep himself from simply walking out. Or ripping the place to pieces.
Making his misery complete was the damned Jaffar that was part of this universe's SGC; he was at the only way in or out of the place, putting Jim's hackles on permanent alert. But for Daniel's sake, who was hovering close to his elbow and trying not look worried, Jim might have said or done something rash. Thankfully, Blair was instinctively keeping well within reach, and staying on the side of Jim that was farthest from the Jaffar, satisfying the powerful innate need to protect him.
Or maybe it wasn't so instinctive on Blair's part. Occasionally, as the tests and exams progressed, his mate found reasons to touch Jim, or to get in his personal space, and each time the soothing reality of him decreased the sentinel's tension a notch, easing his pain. And, as usual, Blair was doing his best to make the situation on both sides a little easier, too, using practically non-stop questions and observations.
The tactic captured both Major Carter and Dr. Fraiser, keeping them at his side in a way that would have made Jim jealous in another time. As it was, he couldn't help glaring at them, despite the Jaffar's displeasure with it. Apparently oblivious, Blair said seriously as Fraiser took a blood sample, "You're going to find some odd things in that. The antigens we use to help the body maintain itself, antibodies for diseases you haven't encountered yet, the traces of my Last Defense, some other stuff."
"Last Defense?" Carter asked, holding the blood vial up to the light as if she expected to see it with her naked eyes.
"To stop a Ga'ould from using my body," Blair explained. "Everyone who carries critical information or skills has it injected. One hundred percent voluntarily, in case you're worried. If the parasite enters my body, the chemicals in my blood stream react to its presence and create a toxin deadly to both it and me. No antidote."
That drew Daniel into the conversation. "So you can't be used as a host or as a Jaffar?"
"That was the idea," Jim answered for his partner.
"Can I have the injection?" Daniel and O'Neill asked almost simultaneously.
Blair bent up his arm to stop the bleeding from the needle. "Fraiser will want to run tests on it, but I'll give you the formula right now, if you want."
Instantly three pens were offered to him, making Blair chuckle. Taking out his light-pen from the belt pouch that had been returned after they had been searched, he said, "I'll put it on the wall so everybody can see. The light effect lasts about a week unless you deliberately disrupt it. May as well add the basic antigen formula." As he spoke he sketched a molecular structure on the wall nearest him with something that looked very much like a dancing dot of laser light.
"Neat toy," O'Neill quipped. "Got one for me?"
"Going to leave a few phone numbers on the latrine walls?" Blair shot back with a grin.
"Hey, it's a community service. What did you say yours was again?"
Jim heard his warning rumble before he was aware he was going to do it, and while he killed the sound as fast as he could, Daniel obviously heard him. Nervously, the linguist ran his left thumb over his fingers, then said, "I feel I have to warn you...."
"Daniel," O'Neill cautioned.
"A personal warning, Jack," he defended quickly in irritation. "While they're here they deserve to be warned of any social pitfalls they could fall into. Or do you think it's right to let them innocently do something we find offensive?"
O'Neill subsided reluctantly, shoulders hunching a little to show his annoyance. "I suppose you have a point."
"Thank you," Daniel said sarcastically. Despite the permission, he hesitated. "Our culture has very strong prejudices against homosexuality," he said finally, bluntly, apparently not knowing how else to approach the subject. "While it's not out-and-out illegal, the social prohibitions against it are so strong that a person can get away with murder under the right circumstances if the victim was gay. Most practicing homosexuals hide what they are; we call it being in the closet."
Jim didn't try to prevent his grimace, but said as calmly as he could, "Daniel, Blair and I have been married longer than you've been alive. I'm not about to try to hide that, especially not now. If your people have a problem with it, tough, they're going to have to deal. There are much, much bigger problems here to worry about than what two people do in the bedroom."
Walking over to them and taking his mate's hand, Blair added, "If you're worried about us... it's not like we haven't had to face bigotry before. Where we come from we've had our share of trouble - and yes, I mean the lethal kind - because of religion. I'm Jewish and Jim's Catholic and in our world never shall the twain meet. He's been excommunicated and my mother sat *shiva* for me."
The echoes of the ancient pain from when Naomi had declared her son dead to her made Jim drew Blair close to his side, thumb smoothing over his cheek as if to dry a tear, then over his lower lip as if to capture a stolen kiss. In their private, silent language it meant, 'I'm sorry' and 'I love you.' Eyes closed, Blair leaned into the palm nearest his cheek, then brought up their joined hands to kiss their marriage bracelets, first his own on his left wrist, then Jim's on his right. 'Love you, too' and 'Worth it, always.'
At the sight of the dark lines edging both bands, Jim had to fight the need to pull his mate into his arms and find some privacy, mission be damned. Before he could so much as clench his teeth in frustration, Carter said into the dead silence that had surrounded them since Daniel's warning, "Wait a minute... longer than *Daniel's* been alive? Just how old *are* you?"
With obvious reluctance, Blair turned back toward her, though he stayed in the circle of Jim's arms. "We don't know exactly; lost track of the days during the Last Stand for our Earth. But Jim's eighty-six or seven. I'm about ten years younger."
"How's that possible?" Fraiser blurted. "Neither of you look it, and frankly, so far the exam is showing bodies that belong to men in their prime."
"The antigens I mentioned...."
Jim tuned out his partner's explanations, his focus shifting abruptly to Daniel, who looked positively miserable, though he was hiding his expression by dropping his head. The thought chased across his mind that this doppelganger of the man he had known so well had been trying to do more than warn him of a possible danger. He'd been warning that he was in the same danger. It explained why Daniel had used an obscure language to make his claim on the Jaffar, and why, despite the declaration, there wasn't the slightest sensory sign of a relationship.
It was even possible that there wasn't one, and that it was all longing on Daniel's part. Without intending to, Jim slanted a glance over at the Jaffar, who, despite giving the impression of being aware of everything that was going on in the room, was staring at him, menace clear in the gaze. Jim didn't have to wonder what it meant. Though he was on the other side of it, he knew that it was the same glower he used when he was in pure guardian mode. Against his will, a measure of his genetically deep-seated distrust and dislike for this particular Jaffar was reduced.
"Daniel," he said softly, hesitantly. "From what we've seen, the coating of a person changes - my counterparts have been cops, forest rangers, doctors, even a priest once - but the core person remains the same. If you're an honest man in one, you're an honest man in all of them. I don't know how you came to know your James Ellison, but if you trusted him, you can trust me. I swear."
It was the closest Jim could come to promising out loud that he wouldn't betray the confidence Daniel had been forced to give him, but it seemed to be enough. The linguist raised his head and offered a small smile that barely hid relief. "That's a frightening thought; an infinite progression of James Ellisons, all of them crabby bastards."
"Be afraid," Jim intoned, mock-dramatically. "Be very afraid." A snerk from his side told him that his mate had been listening with half-an ear to the exchange, but he didn't offer up a comment. Fraiser came over to finish her examination, shooing Daniel to the other side of the room, and Blair back to his own poking and prodding. At her command, Jim stripped off his tee shirt, and automatically went through the routine of breathe and cough.
It aggravated his injury and to mentally distance himself from it, he thought about his alternate on this world, acknowledging the very distant, barely tangible tug of another sentinel on his senses. Faint though it was, it was enough for him to know that the Ellison of this world was fully functional, equal to him in power, which meant he had his Sandburg by his side in one guise or another. As mates and lovers, he sincerely hoped for their sakes. After the many, many permutations he had seen of sentinel and adept, though, he knew it wasn't always possible to overcome whatever difficulties which could lie between them, blocking a pure union such as the one he and Blair had.
Running his left fingers over the marriage band on his right wrist, sensitive tips feeling where the quasi-life of it was gradually fading to inert metal along the rims, he pitied the poor bastard if he was trying to make it on obligation or friendship.
"I know you're going to get tired of hearing this phrase from us," Fraiser said, "but I've never seen a metal like that. It looks like gold-plated platinum that's been acid washed so random patterns of the platinum show. What is it?"
"Crystallized nacquada," Jim answered absently. "Bonded to my flesh, so don't try to pry it up for a peek under."
"Didn't that hurt?!" she blurted.
"Didn't feel a thing," Jim answered honestly, the memory of the pleasure at their joining still intense. He flinched as her fingers probed at the minor seeming wound on his left shoulder. "That, on the other hand," he joked weakly, "hurts like a bitch. Do me a favor and leave it alone."
"What caused it?" she asked, deftly touching the immediate area around it. "It's almost like a blistering burn, but the blisters are so tiny."
"May I, Dr. Fraiser?" Teal'c asked unexpectedly.
Jim sat up straighter, fighting the urge to reach for a weapon, any weapon. "It doesn't matter," he said flatly.
"That's for me to judge," she snapped. "Teal'c?"
The huge man approached cautiously, keeping his hands where Jim could see them. Even when he stood to one side to see the wound, he kept a reasonable distance, and his care added to the sentinel's slowly growing respect for the warrior. "It is a wound from a trizatas," he said, catching and holding Jim's eyes, a question clear in the dark depths.
Clenching his teeth, Jim expressionlessly met the stare, not sure what he would do if the Jaffar told the doctor everything.
She asked, "How do I treat it?"
"There is no prescribed treatment," Teal'c said, and at his words Jim relaxed fractionally.
Closing his eyes for a brief second, a minor show of trust that he was willing to bet the Jaffar understood immediately, Jim opened them again and said, "It hurts, but I've learned ways to control pain over the years. Since all I can do is let it go its course, there's no reason to concern yourself with it."
Typically, Fraiser didn't take his word for it, but looked at Teal'c for a confirmation. "It is of no consequence to the matters at hand," he answered her unspoken question.
"Do you want a layer of padding so your clothing doesn't irritate it?"
Shoving down his relief that she wasn't going to investigate further, Jim said, "Sounds good."
To Jim's considerable surprise, the Jaffar inclined his head respectfully, then returned to guard duty by the door, his demeanor considerably less threatening. Daniel had worriedly watched their by-play and started to ask a question, but subsided, obviously not sure what to ask. That suited Jim; he didn't know what to make of it either.
But for whatever reason, the atmosphere in the infirmary improved considerably, making the rest of their stay there relatively easier. The wait for the test results was surprisingly short, and Fraiser gave them an all clear to meet General Hammond in the briefing room. As Jim was buttoning up his outer-most shirt, he felt the shimmer of sensation over his skin that meant Blair was about to get hit with a dimensional cascade. Vaulting the table between them, not giving a shit about the weapons suddenly leveled at him, he got both arms around his mate just as the full effect hit.
Though the convulsion only lasted a few seconds, it felt like hours, and it was by far the worst either of them had had to suffer through. It was so intense, his mate couldn't even cry out his agony, and all Jim could do was offer him the support of his own body as muscles locked and nerves screamed. When it was over, Jim sank to the floor, letting Blair pant into the curve of his neck while he recovered. Both Fraiser and Carter were on either side of them, doing medical or scientific things, but he only held on until Blair gave him a thump on his arm to tell him that it was time to let go.
With a blatant squeeze to say clearly he didn't want to, Jim did so, anyway, and stood, startled to find O'Neill on one side supporting Blair and Teal'c behind him to lend a hand. "Like we said, the effect is accumulative. More times you've been through the mirror, the worse it gets." Pain and frustration made him sound sharp and angry, but no one seemed to notice.
"How much of that can you stand?" Jack asked seriously.
"As much as we have to," Blair said flatly. "As much as we have to."
Detective Jim Ellison was halfway down the stairs that led from his loft bedroom before he was awake enough to know that he was moving. Gun in hand, he headed straight for his partner's room, not even knowing why he had to get there, only that he would go through anything or anyone that tried to get in his way. A heartbeat later, nearly at the door, he could hear Blair's breathing change and caught a subtle shift in scent that he associated with his roomie being in pain. His senses told him that no one else was in their apartment, and he lowered his weapon a bit, reaching for the handle to the French door as a sudden flurry of sounds indicating motion inside hit his ears.
That fractional warning was all he had; a split second later, Blair hurled himself through the door, stumbling into him and automatically throwing up his hands to catch himself before he fell, latching onto Jim's arms just above the elbow. Jim returned the grip as best he could with one hand occupied.
"Sandburg! What?" he demanded.
"Jim! Where'd you come from?" Blair asked in confusion, eyes blinking as he tried to adjust to the early morning light.
"The stork brought me," he snapped. "A better question might be where you're going in such a hurry dressed in just your skivvies."
"Going?" Slowly, Blair looked around the room, taking it in as if he'd never seen it before. "Pain," he muttered thoughtfully. "I was hurting, like someone dipped me in fire, and I had to, I had to...." His voice trailed off uncertainly. "Did I scream or something?
"No... I...." Jim stopped, not sure how to explain. There was something tugging at him, disturbing his senses in a way that he could hardly perceive, let alone describe.
"Jim?" Trying to ease away, Blair released his hold, but Jim tightened his own.
"No, stay," he ordered, trying not to bite out the words. Fighting to keep his tone reasonable, he added, "Last time things got weird I pushed you away when I should have gathered you in close. That's one mistake I don't want to repeat."
"Dreams?" Relaxing, Blair put his hands back where they had been, and with a grateful sigh, leaned into him, beginning to shake slightly in delayed reaction.
Jim considered the quietly spoken question, his free hand stroking soothingly up and down his partner's back, but finally shook his head. "Not a dream. Just, just a feeling that I don't have a name for, but it's connected to you somehow."
"What do you want to do?" The question was slightly muffled. Blair had his forehead pressed into Jim's sternum, and he began to gradually regulate his breathing.
The answer came instantly to Jim's lips. "Stay with you." He felt Blair's grimace, and added, "I'll call in; that way you won't have to cancel any of your tutoring sessions."
Though he could tell that he had just startled him, Jim knew that Blair was counting on the income from his students to help him make it financially until he did his time at the Academy and officially joined the department. He was more than willing to help his roomie with money, but Blair's pride wouldn't let him ask. If there was any human motivation that Jim understood without trying, it was pride. Not that he liked not being able to do more than sneak in what assistance he could, ("Forgot it was your turn to do the shopping, Chief."); he just had no trouble understanding why Blair was prickly on the subject.
"Whoa... Jim Ellison voluntarily using personal time?" Blair joked, apparently to cover his surprise. "Simon will want to know what I drugged you with."
With a reluctant half-smile, Jim said, "I'll just tell him it's the sentinel thing again. He'll chomp down on his cigar and tell me not to even think about showing up at work until we've got it clear." Almost as an after thought, he added, "You okay with this, Chief?"
Sighing deeply, Blair said in a mixture of relief and weariness, "Okay with life getting strange again? No. Okay with you doing the guardian angel bit again? Mostly. Okay with you finally getting the message that I'm the person you're *supposed* to turn to when your senses go haywire? Definitely." He pulled away to go back into his room, his reluctance to leave the security of Jim's loose embrace apparent.
Just as reluctant to let him go, and masochistically wanting to ask how Blair felt about the near-naked hugging part, too, Jim made himself turn to go back upstairs to get dressed. "Since we're up already, want to go to Louie's for breakfast, my treat? I've got a taste for his waffles all of a sudden." Catching the sudden sly gleam in Blair's eyes, he added quickly, "And no, I don't think it has anything to do with what just happened."
"Hey, if we don't speculate, we'll stay in the dark," Blair shot over his shoulder. Then he shut his door before Jim could make a comeback, not that he had one ready. It was good to see the scholar in his friend peeking out again, surprisingly so, and, resolving to put up only a token fight against any tests that the fertile mind of his partner could come up with, Jim went upstairs, unaware he was grinning.
Though Daniel tried to look as if he were paying attention while Janet and Sam filled General Hammond in on their discoveries, his mind kept wandering back to the brief moment of intimacy he had witnessed between their guests. Not so much the gentle touches themselves, but the sense that there was something that accompanied those touches kept nagging at him, as if they were a language that he could translate if he only studied them long enough.
Or maybe the message was in the way everyone else reacted. Given that he was on a military base, he fully expected more than one grimace of disgust, if not thinly veiled hatred. But all he had seen was the normal embarrassment that people felt when they inadvertently spied on an emotional moment. In fact, Janet and Sam had had to hide what he was willing to swear were slightly envious smiles.
All he was really sure of was that he was missing something, something important, and the brief exchange between Teal'c and Jim Ellison seemed to underline that in an obscure way. Shifting restlessly in his seat, picking out '...despite a wide variety of scars and old traumas, in better shape that most thirty year old men...' from Janet's briefing, Daniel realized unhappily that if his Jaffar friend and the alternate Ellison were going to be on speaking terms with each other, he was going to have to confess to his teammate about the lie he'd told to protect him. Unhappily, he fidgeted with a pencil, trying to imagine how that conversation could be anything but disastrous.
A nudge at his foot from Jack jerked Daniel back to the briefing in time to hear Sam say, "The only two anomalies, outside of the elements in the blood that we were told about in advance, and which we're having our technicians do a blind double check on, are the crystallized naquada bands on their wrists and the circlet of the same material Dr. Sandburg wears. The wristbands are bonded somehow to their arms, but the circlet is removable, admittedly reluctantly on Dr. Sandburg's part. They were both willing to let us perform whatever tests we wished, which tells me that if they have anything to hide, it isn't connected to them."
"Your conclusions, Doctor?" Hammond asked.
Janet and Sam exchanged a glance, then, apparently speaking for both of them, Sam said, "As far as we can determine, they are exactly who they say they are: two humans from a different Earth that seems to be ahead of our own, time-wise. The hints of differences in technology, while advanced, are not beyond what we might reach on our own given another fifty or so years worth of research. There is no indication of Ga'ould tampering, either in them physically or in the technology they brought with them."
"I see." Hammond swung around to face the rest of the table, and addressed the other members of the team. "Any comments?"
"Given their reaction to Teal'c," Daniel found himself volunteering, "they're either true enemies of the Ga'ould or giving a performance worthy of an Oscar."
"Yeah," Jack agreed. "Ellison's reaction to a Jaffar was damn near instinctive. I've never seen anybody react to a threat so fast."
Daniel saw the smallest of frowns appear on Teal'c's face, as if their colonel's words gave him pause in some way. Once again, the feeling that there was something he was missing hit Daniel, but before he could even begin to formulate a question, Hammond gestured at the guards at the door to let their guests enter.
Dr. Sandburg came in first, wearing a friendly smile, with Ellison right at his elbow, patently ignoring their ever-present guards. The Ranger swept a salute at Hammond, who seemed vaguely startled but returned it. They seated themselves, and the general said, "I believe, gentlemen, the floor is yours, for the time being, at least."
"Thank you," Dr. Sandburg said graciously, reaching for his ever-present belt pouch. It had been searched as a matter of course, turning up the oddest selection of items imaginable, none of which could be construed in the slightest way as weapons. He took out one that Daniel had particularly wondered why anyone would carry: a crepe paper ball that could be collapsed down to a thin wedge, or opened out to a three-dimensional honeycombed sphere.
Shrugging a little apologetically, Sandburg said, "A visual aid, if you don't mind. It helps."
Without meaning to, Daniel looked down the table at Jack, as did everyone else in the room. "What?" Jack said irritably.
"Never mind, Colonel O'Neill," Hammond said for all of them, his own smile barely visible. "Go on, doctor."
Holding up the cardboard edge of the flattened sphere, Dr Sandburg ran a fingertip along it. "This is your Earth - or mine, or any other in an alternate universe. There is an infinite number of them, just like this universe itself is infinite." Sam nodded, as did Daniel, who had done some superficial research on the subject. "It moves from the past through to present, and I'm sure that by now you've discovered that you can use the Star Gate to go backward or forward in time. If you have, you've also very wisely done your best not to change your history. We've opened the mirror onto some worlds that are blank - complete voids. Our scientists say that it was the result of trying to absorb too large a change in the time-line."
Across from him Daniel saw Sam close her eyes in relief that she had been listened to when she had insisted they change nothing when they were in their past. With an atavistic shudder, he whispered, "Remind me not to argue with you when you're laying down the scientific law, okay?"
With a small grin, she nodded, and they both hushed before Hammond could order them to. Apparently catching the by-play, Dr. Sandburg grinned as well, but all he did was go on with his lecture. "However," he opened the honeycomb ball and this time ran a finger tip over one fragile line of paper, "though they're infinite in number, the alternate universes intersect only in given spots on their individual time lines, and remain consistent to each other. If we were to go back to our home universe, the same amount of time that we've experienced while we were gone would be the duration that we had been absent. The important thing to know is that the farther out you are from your 'home' universe, the greater the cultural and historical disparity between it and the new one, *including the apparent time.*"
"Let me get this straight," Sam said. "The mirror Gates only connect at specific points, so you can't reach *all* the possible alternates, and like that ball, they all fan out in all dimensions, with greater and greater gaps in similarity and congruity?"
Nodding, Sandburg collapsed the ball and put it on the table in front of him. "In our universe, Apophis over-ran earth about fifteen years ago, forcing the Tau'ri to become refugees on a dozen different planets. As if that wasn't revenge enough for what we did to him, he's made a hobby of hunting down our little colonies and destroying them. Of the quarter million that initially escaped, only about ten thousand still survive, all in deep hiding, rarely making contact with one another. To put it bluntly, we're nearly extinct."
For a moment, he looked unbearably sad, and Daniel had to wonder at the progression of lost family, friends and colleagues that crossed his mind. "After our last battle with Apophis, there were so few fighters left that we realized that we were running out of options, and we didn't want to just vanish without a whimper, as if we never fought at all."
"Hear, hear," Jack said softly.
He was ignored, and Dr. Sandburg went on, "Our Sams suggested using the alternate mirror to travel far enough 'out' to find an Earth that was just beginning its fight with Apophis and help them win by giving them everything we've learned over the years. If we could find the right combination of factors, added to our information, it could mean that in one universe, at least, we would defeat the Ga'ould."
"And a 'Daniel Jackson' is one of those elements?" Teal'c asked unexpectedly.
"He's been present as a member of the SGC in some capacity or another in *every* alternate where Apophis was held off for any significant length of time. Why? Damned if we know," Sandburg admitted.
"That's why you were asking about the Asgard and Sokar," Daniel said.
"Yes; those were earmarks for events that would have already given you an advantage. Do you have a quantum physicist named Sam Beckett on this Earth?" Sandburg directed the question to Carter, and she nodded.
"He died four or five years ago, though," she said. "A terrible loss for us; his work with quantum physics is the basis for much of what we know about the subject now. I've wished I could consult with him more than once."
Dr. Sandburg nodded; it was clear he'd expected that answer. "He lived in ours - one of the few alternities where he did, for some reason - and did work with you. Between the pair of you, we gained enough of a technological edge to hold out as long as we did."
"Our Sams," Daniel murmured.
"We tried calling them Sam One and Sam Two, but that sounded so Dr. Seuss that Dr. Beckett once said he might as well go by SamIam," Dr. Sandburg laughed. "From the book *Green Eggs and Ham.*"
"So what's the catch?" Jack asked before the amused smiles died completely. "And don't tell me there isn't one. Humans, especially ones with their back to the wall, aren't that generous."
Though he expected at least irritation, their visitors traded a knowing grin, telling Daniel that they had anticipated the question and the source. Sure enough, Colonel Ellison spoke up for the first time. "Of course there's a catch. But it's a reasonable one, and we don't have any way to enforce it. As far as we're concerned, *any* way we can hurt *any* Apophis or the System Lords is a good thing, worth this last effort."
"And the catch is...." Jack said stubbornly, letting his voice trail up to make it an impatient question.
"Actually, two big ones and one small one," Sandburg admitted cheerfully. Before O'Neill could snap out a smart remark, he added, "You have to do the same thing we're doing. If and when you beat Apophis, or he has obviously beaten you, look at why he did or what you could have done to change it, and take what we've given you to another alternity. Maybe that one will be the one that finally does it."
"Like antibodies," Daniel murmured. When Dr. Sandburg stared at him, he added in a more normal tone, "If we succeed, and teach other universes to succeed, maybe eventually the defeat of the Ga'ould will spread to the alternates where they destroyed Earth."
"Can you think of a better legacy?" Ellison asked softly, eyes on Jack.
That startled Jack into thinking, and he kept quiet when Dr. Sandburg went on. "The other thing is trickier, but once you have a chance to think about it, we're hoping you'll understand. All the information we give you... it can't be classified top secret and hidden away from everyone except a few cloistered U.S. scientists. We don't care how you share it, but it *has* to be disseminated."
Daniel didn't have to think about it for very long, and his eyes widened. If he had had any doubt that these men were trying to help them, it vanished when he realized they were trying to keep their gift from being misused. He asked hastily, "And the third?"
Instantly, he knew that the partners didn't agree on this last condition, though he couldn't point to how he knew, and he shoved away his frustration yet again. But Sandburg said with a shrug, "It's a personal request. Keep our alternates out of this. Don't do a computer search and find out where they are and what they're doing, don't make any inquiries to the right authorities, don't call directory information and find their phone numbers. Leave them alone."
"Whatever for?" General Hammond asked, apparently speaking for the others in the room. "I might be jumping to conclusions here, but it seems to me that if Colonel Ellison is the team leader for your SG1, your presence has to be one of the factors you should be looking for."
"Our O'Neill and Jackson died holding the Gate for refugees during the Last Stand," Ellison said flatly. "We only replaced them because it was Jack's last order to us. I have no objection to serving, but I doubt my counterpart would be as willing. I was in a position to do it on my own terms, thanks to Jack, and this world's Ellison doesn't have that leverage. If you called him to duty, he would have to come and then probably die the first time he went into battle. If he's anywhere near where I was at this same time, he's lost what it takes to survive in combat."
For a moment Sandburg looked stubborn, Daniel thought, as if he had something to say on the subject, but he remained silent at a sharp glance from his partner. Jack stepped into the gap, saying skeptically, "You know we want some kind of proof, other than a single toy, that you can make good on what you're promising."
"Done," Ellison said, calmly. He took from a shirt pocket a small tube that he had said was a map, and set it upright in front of him. "We know where Apophis' shipyard and primary source of nacquada is - Sokar's originally - what its defenses are and how to penetrate them. By the time we learned this, his fleet was too large to be affected much by the destruction of Agaeis Prime; he had more than enough resources to maintain himself while he rebuilt. But here, if he's just taken Sokar's fleet and has lost ships and weapons trying to consolidate his position with the System Lords, losing the shipyard would be a crippling blow."
Teal'c sat up straighter, leaning forward to say intently, "That is a very closely guarded secret; it is said that only Sokar, himself, knew the coordinates for the Star Gate there."
"A Tok'ra named Jolinar paid a very, very high price for that information," Ellison said. "She never would say exactly how she found out, but it was accurate for us. Given the peculiarities of the system the shipyard is in that he counted on for its defense, we are nearly certain it will be here, too."
At the mention of Jolinar, Sam had looked shocked as Daniel felt and stared at Ellison. He noticed, and said slowly, "You know the name, and you've had a Ga'ould in you... She took you?"
"Yes, but how...."
Shaking his head, he said, "That's part of what you'll learn later. For now, do you want the location?"
"Yes, of course," Hammond said, dragging the conversation back where it belonged.
At his agreement, Ellison fingered the side of the small tube, and a swirl of darkness came out of it, blanking the lighting in the room, making a backdrop for the stars that fell into formations all around the room. In the stunned hush Sandburg said, "See this system here? Agaeis Prime." A dot of light from his light-pen touched one star, and it expanded to show the planets surrounding it. It was clear that the entire system was being drawn into a distant black hole, but that the star itself had collapsed in the not-too-recent galactic past, creating a counter force to the singularity. The result was a mad swirl of eddies and currents of planetary debris around a single world, making it a small, stable island in the midst of a mad ocean of stellar reefs. The effect was dizzying, and Daniel had to close his eyes for a moment, shutting out the hologram surrounding them.
"It's hard to approach the system without getting torn into bits by the gravitational anomalies, not to mention all the asteroids pounding away at your defensive shields," Dr. Sandburg said. "Direct attack is virtually impossible."
Taking up the explanation, Ellison added, "We've learned that since the Ga'ould don't want slaves to learn too much about where their 'gods' really get their power, and they don't trust their own kind any farther than they trust us, the number of workmen with the necessary skills to build a mother ship is relatively low. A small population on a small base makes is easier to control and to hide, but most System Lords are still forced to either trade with someone like Sokar - or Apophis now - or to share labor. Apophis keeps his workers at the shipyard or mine, with no outside contact, no chance of leaving alive. Even necessary supplies and new slaves are simply dropped in by drones making a one-way trip. To top it all off, the Gate is kept face down unless a signal is sent that he's planning a visit."
"And you know that signal," Hammond said.
"And have the layout, complete with the location of the power plants." Ellison hesitated, then added, "Our analysis suggests that the best strike would be to the living quarters of the workers as well as the power plant."
"You're not suggesting..." Daniel started to say as the hologram faded, allowing the room's normal light to banish it.
"No, we're not," Sandburg said firmly. "To a certain extent, we have to trust you, too, to make your own decisions about what to do with the intelligence we give you. We can't disavow our responsibility in sharing, but ultimately, the choices are yours."
Picking up the tube that had been the source of the map, Ellison reached over the table to give it to General Hammond. "There are three notches in the side; one to activate which it has a three minute delay before automatically turning off. Next down is to deactivate if you want to shut down earlier than that, the bottom switches from map to map. The light pen commands the hologram to enlarge or shrink. We'll give you a list of the maps programmed in."
Before Hammond could take the device, Jack intercepted it, turning his seat so that his body shielded Hammond. "Let me try that first." Visibly wincing, he triggered the 'on', then the directory, causing a sickeningly rapid flicker of stars around them, then the 'off' switch.
The lights came back to find Hammond staring at him in annoyance, and both visitors smirking knowingly. "Let me guess," Daniel said dryly. "You knew he was going to do that."
"Some things," Ellison answered, equally dryly, "Never change."
Jack glared everyone into silence, which lingered for a moment, then Hammond stepped into it decisively. "Dr. Sandburg, Colonel Ellison, it's clear that my team and I have a great deal to discuss privately, and then I'll need to brief the President on all this. In the meantime, please make yourselves comfortable in our guest quarters; you have discretionary use of base facilities. Dismissed, gentlemen."
Both Ellison and Sandburg nodded, as if expecting Hammond's decision or a variation of it, making Daniel wonder exactly how many times they'd had this conversation in one form or another. Maybe that was why it felt like he was missing something. He literally was; the many repetitions of same experience their visitors had had. With their guard trailing after them, they left for visitor quarters in another part of the base, and Hammond waited until they were gone before turning back to SG1 and Dr. Fraiser.
"Recommendations?" he asked.
"Actually I have a question, first," Jack said. "Do we really believe those two?"
"Yes," Daniel said instantly. "I do."
Everyone stared at him, and he had to fight not to stammer and sputter his way through his explanation, though it was hardly the first time he'd had to voice a dissenting opinion. "Their second condition... about not keeping the technology to ourselves? The easiest and least expensive way for any of the System Lords to defeat us would be if we destroyed ourselves. Can you imagine what would happen if, say for instance, the only people who had access to the life-extending formula that Dr. Sandburg wrote on the wall, where *everybody* could see it, was the military? Or the rich? Then the common man found out about it?"
"Civil war, at the very least," Hammond said tiredly.
"Think about the Native American Indians," Daniel said urgently. "The tribes that prospered at first were those who gained the advantages of European advances, like the rifle. But that allowed the dissension and distrust that had always existed between the tribes to grow, so at a time when they had the superior numbers to drive out the settlers, they were occupied with fighting with each other. By the time they realized they had a common problem, a common enemy, it was too late. They'd lost their lands and much of their population."
"Dr. Jackson, you do understand you are making a very powerful argument for sending them back through the mirror Gate right now," Hammond warned.
"I know, I know... and it might be the best thing to do," Daniel said, rubbing at his eyes under his glasses. "But Jack wanted to know if I believed them."
"Actually, sir, I do, too," Sam put in. "For a different reason."
"Carter?" Jack asked, clearly surprised.
"Because of this." She reached over the table and snagged the map generator from him, turning it up so that everyone could see it. "If Daniel's job is to look at civilizations and determine if they have any resemblance to the ancient ones here on Earth, part of *my* job is to look at the technology and analyze it. I *know* human work, and this, like the light pen I examined along with it earlier, was made by humans. Specifically, earth humans. This could have come from my laboratory; it's small, precisely functional, built for a specific handgrip for use in the field. I am certain the Ga'ould had no part in making it."
"Point taken," General Hammond said. "Any one else?"
"I believe Colonel Ellison to be an honorable man," Teal'c said calmly. "The contempt that all Ga'ould agents have for rebelling slaves could not exist within such an individual."
"Teal'c, it may have escaped your notice, but that honorable man tried to kill you at first sight," Jack said sharply.
"He was targeting a Jaffar who represented a threat to his mission and his mate," Teal'c all but intoned. "I would have acted no differently."
"We all know that there is a tendency for soldiers to develop a shoot first mentality," General Hammond agreed, "When dealing with a long-term enemy. If Teal'c doesn't hold it against Colonel Ellison, we shouldn't either."
Jack took the map device back from Sam, looking into the barrel of it and frowning, as if he could see the microscopic workings. "Well, yeah, I guess. Thing is...."
He stopped and gingerly set the generator down, as if afraid he would break it. "Thing is, I think they're telling the truth, too." He leaned back in his seat, eyes still on the tool. "Think about it. What if it was us with our back to the wall? Defeat certain, no way to really hurt the bad guy. What would we do?"
No one had an answer to that, though Daniel was sure that all of them had worried about that very possibility more than once. Hammond nodded, the lines around his eyes telling Daniel very clearly that it was a nightmare that the general lived with on a daily basis. But Hammond only picked up the map generator and said, "Very well. I have a call to make, and you all have other duties to attend to. Dismissed."
Deep in thought, though he couldn't say specifically what he was thinking, there was so much crowding his mind, Daniel wandered toward his office, only to detour at the last minute when he saw Teal'c heading for his own quarters. Much as he didn't want to confess to his friend the lie he'd told Ellison, it was better to get it out of the way before Teal'c found out the hard way. Daniel was fairly certain he'd be forgiven in either case, but couldn't stand the thought of the disappointment he'd cause if Teal'c discovered the deception on his own.
Swallowing hard, wishing his heart would leave his throat and get back where it belonged, Daniel knocked at the door, then slipped inside when permission to enter was granted. On the other side he found Teal'c waiting patiently, eyebrow up and clearly questioning. "How may I assist you, Daniel Jackson?"
"Uh, actually I don't need... well, I guess you could call it assisting... though I'm really assisting myself if I'm going to be honest." Inwardly sighing because he was making no sense at all, Daniel made himself shut up, count to ten in Aramaic, then say quietly, "I convinced Colonel Ellison not to fire on you by telling him you were my lover."
To his surprise, Teal'c tilted his head slightly to one side and asked, "That was the content of the exchange that was in a different language?"
"Yes, though it was phrased so that anyone who's not a Chopec will think that I was simply claiming you as an honorary brother," Daniel tried to reassure him.
"And he accepted your declaration as the truth," Teal'c said thoughtfully. He closed the distance between them, nearly backing Daniel into the door. "I do not believe Colonel Ellison would have perceived that you spoke the truth unless you did, indeed, speak it in some fashion. Is the truth that you wish me to be your lover, Daniel?"
"What?" Daniel asked in total confusion.
Teal'c's answer was to capture Daniel's chin between thumb and forefinger to tilt his head, then bend to kiss him gently, full on the mouth. There was no surprise, no fear - only the sensation of places deep within shifting and opening in greedy acceptance, as if this moment was what Daniel had needed and wanted his entire life. The pleasure of it made him cry out, partly in pain from the years of unknown deprivation so suddenly ended, and Teal'c lifted his lips away, words of concern already forming.
Not allowing them to be voiced, Daniel locked his hands in the front of Teal'c's shirt and stretched up to renew their kiss, opening his mouth in silent supplication that Teal'c readily granted. His tongue slipped past hungry lips to sensuously taste and explore, sending burning shivers down Daniel's spine and weakening his knees. When the arousing shudders reached his awakening maleness, he unwillingly drew away, though he couldn't make his fists release Teal'c completely.
"More, Daniel, please," Teal'c murmured, his strong fingers restlessly massaging slender shoulders.
"Not here," he said, amazed at how thick and rough he sounded. "They give you some privacy and don't turn on the security cameras in here unless they have to, but I can't leave here looking well-loved either. Come home with me as soon as we can?"
"Yes." Teal'c brushed his lips over Daniel's ear, repeating it softly, "Yes."
The whisper of warm, moist air over one of the most erogenous zones on his body, along with the promise it carried, almost undid Daniel. Without intending to, he sagged against the muscular body, strong arms enfolding him so completely, any other embrace would seem inadequate for the rest of his life. "Is it really going to be this easy?" he mumbled, resting his forehead in the center of Teal'c's chest.
A negative rumble vibrated between them, then Teal'c gently set Daniel away. "Perhaps it is right that our beginning should be; it is doubtful that much else will be."
Thinking of the warning he'd been forced to give only a few hours earlier, Daniel snorted in self-derision. "Is it okay if we skip everything but the loving part for a while? At least long enough for me to get used to the idea that I don't know myself as well as I thought I did?"
Drawing back sharply, Teal'c asked, "You have not tasted before what one warrior may offer to another?"
"Ah, no," Daniel admitted, feeling bereft at the space between them. "Does that matter?" The lust that brightened the ebony eyes at his answer was mesmerizing, and he swayed forward, reaching to take another kiss, wanting to sample the desire he saw.
"Very much so," Teal'c growled, but gently pushed Daniel back until he was an arm's length away. "You are correct in desiring a more private location, where we will not be interrupted or hurried while I savor the gift you have for me, as it should be savored."
There was something incredibly erotic about Teal'c's rich voice lingering over 'savor,' as if he had already begun to make love with him, and Daniel couldn't stop a small groan from escaping him as his cock hardened further. "If I don't get out of here, right now," he warned shakily, "I'm going to do my damndest to knock you to the ground and find out exactly what it is you're offering me."
"Go," Teal'c ground out. "Hurry!"
It wasn't his words, but the sight of the bulge distorting the front of his pants that sent Daniel scrambling for the doorknob, and he didn't let himself stop moving until he was at his office. Once in that relative safety, he sat hunched over on himself, trying not to think about anything at all until his body stopped screaming for something he had never thought he wanted.
* * *
Sitting lotus in the middle of the bed of the guest quarters, deep inside Cheyenne Mountain, Blair worked a pick through his still-damp curls, absently thinking he needed to get a haircut again, all but humming in appreciation of being squeaky clean and dressed in soft, clean clothes. After so many years of living on the edge of survival, pursued on all sides by enemies wanting not just his death, but the death of his entire species, he'd learned to take the smallest pleasures and cherish them.
It was a trick that Jim had learned long ago, he reflected, watching his mate carefully look over the things they had been allowed to keep, looking far more at ease than Blair knew he genuinely felt. But they truly could relax, at least for a little while, and enjoy what providence had granted them. They were warm, relatively safe, and for a change had a stomach filled not with just food, but *real* food, the likes of which both had practically forgotten had once existed.
Jim had had a rare steak and baked potato with indecent amounts of butter on it, and had had to struggle to keep his intense pleasure at the tastes from showing. Blair hadn't even bothered to try. If the people of this universe couldn't understand that he hadn't had honest-to-god fruit, live off trees growing in real soil, in so long he'd forgotten the difference between an apple and an orange, to hell with them. It wasn't as if they were going to be an inconvenience for them for very long.
Unwillingly recalled to just how bad their circumstances were, Blair beat down a sigh and let his eyes go slightly out of focus to study Jim's aura. With a sinking heart he saw that it was barely more than a mat-line around the well-built form, despite the residual glow he could see from the workout his mate had finished before eating. Between the effect of hopping from universe to universe and that mother-fucking Apophis' lucky shot with the trizatas, Jim's life force was dangerously low, and he didn't need to look at the marriage bracelet to confirm that.
Though he had been keeping his physical responses steady, an automatic habit after so long as guide to his sentinel, something must have clued Jim in on his distress. Carefully folding his jacket and shirt over the back of a chair, boots right under them, and with a quick glance to make sure that Blair's were similarly situated, Jim prowled bare-footed over to the bed and crawled onto it. With deliberate playfulness, he knocked the smaller man onto his back, rubbiing along him like a huge cat.
"Stop thinking," Jim ordered.
"Even if I promise you'll like what I'm thinking?" Blair laughed.
"Oh? Having dirty thoughts again, Dr. Sandburg?" Jim nuzzled at the ear he'd whispered into and tugged carefully with his tongue at one of the earrings adorning it.
"Now why would I be doing that?" Blair answered, angling his head to give his lover better access and valiantly trying to keep the banter going despite the sizzle beginning in his middle. "Just because you're walking around here in a tee-shirt that looks like it's been glued on to show off every muscle on that perfect chest of yours. Ditto tight pants and ass?"
"After all this time, you're still looking, Chief?" Jim murmured. He settled his weight down on Blair, covering him with loving intent.
"Always, man, always." Blair slid his hands around his mate's waist, massaging lightly at where hips flowed down to buttocks. At sentinel level he asked, "Can you do this with the surveillance cameras on us? Because it's been forever, and I'm starving here."
"Makes two of us. Under the blankets, now." Hastily they both squirmed under the covers, losing all of their remaining clothes in the process. In very short order, they were back in the same position, except that Jim had hitched himself higher, so that his wide shoulders blocked any view of Blair's face, and one hand was woven through auburn locks.
Taking a long, hard kiss, reveling in the familiar taste and feel, Blair carded his fingers through the short hair at the back of his lover's head, loving the velvety nap of it. When the antigens had caused all Jim's hair to grow back, it had changed in texture until it was very nearly as fine and silky as an animal's pelt, and Blair had finally understood why Jim was obsessed with his curls. Which was probably why he kept 'forgetting' to get them cut despite the nuisance long hair was in the field, he thought hazily, beginning to languidly rock against the damp hard-on pressed alongside his own.
Tearing his mouth away to grab for some air, Blair whispered, "Love you," then began biting his way toward his lover's neck, looking to drive Jim out of his mind as quickly as possible, despite how much he wished they could take their time.
"Damn... good..." Jim began thrusting in earnest, lifting himself up onto his elbows enough to let his chest brush over Blair's, the smooth glide of it against his nipples enough to bring them up to aching points of pleasure.
Arching into the contact, desperately wishing he could open his thighs and take his mate into himself, Blair dug his heels into the mattress and surrendered to his climax. Stifling his joyous cry of completion, he shuddered through the release of his seed, hanging onto Jim with all he had. When the last tremor had chased through him, he sighed deeply, and whispered, "Want you in me, Jim. Want it hard and fast and deep."
With a groan that was nearly subliminal, Jim lost control, hips grinding away frantically as if he could penetrate to the heart of his love through skin and bone. Blair clung to him, enjoying the hint of the wildness that could come with their ecstasy sometimes, refusing to regret that it was unlikely they'd be able to have what they wanted so badly before it was too late. Then Jim froze in place, only the wetness of his semen revealing his finish - that and the softly whimpered 'Blair' that always threatened to make him cry from the love and happiness in it.
When his mate carefully lowered himself back down, chest heaving from their lovemaking, Blair began scratching gently at the sweaty skull. "Rest," he murmured. "I'll take first watch."
It was a sign of how much pain Jim was in that he did as told without argument, and Blair willingly lay under him, staring at the ceiling and refusing to give in to the sorrow clawing at the back of his eyes.
Mind focused entirely on writing up the lesson plans for the study group scheduled to meet at the loft later that afternoon, Blair was caught totally off-guard by the first shock of pleasure slamming into him. Unlike the first phantom attack earlier, when pain had eaten its way across every cell, leaving him unable to breathe but basically in control of himself, the honey sweet flood of orgasm swept through him in a irresistible tide that robbed him of command over his body. Trembling violently, he nearly toppled to the floor, but Jim caught him before he hit, carefully lowering him the rest of the way.
Unbidden, Blair's hands dug into his partner's shoulders, seeking an anchor in the inexplicable thing happening to him, and his grip pulled Jim off balance so that he sprawled half on top of Blair, his weight caught on one elbow. Groin to groin, Blair helplessly bucked into the solid weight covering him, the first spurt of his come shamefully pouring out as he shouted Jim's name in astonished ecstasy. A moment later his mind was clear, but before he could do more than draw a lung full of air, Jim lunged into him, an enormous erection making itself known against Blair's hip.
Way past startled or even shocked, Blair passively lay under him, confusedly trying to fathom what could have caused the whole bizarre situation. Then Jim went stock-still, a faint tremor the only clue that he was climaxing powerfully, though a moment later, new, hot dampness penetrated the already cooling patch of it at Blair's crotch. Hesitantly, not wanting his friend be too freaked by this latest strangeness, Blair gingerly petted the back of Jim's head, just to let him know that they were in it together.
Jim sagged onto him, face burrowing into the curve of his shoulder and neck. "Blair," he whispered, and it was the terrified longing and love in that single word that did to Blair what finding himself remotely raped had not. He panicked, pushing and shoving at the heavy body until he could squirm free. Getting to his feet as fast as he could, he raced for the bathroom, praying that their tradition of total privacy there wouldn't break down because of the current insanity.
Once inside that dubious safety, he plopped down on the toilet and concentrated on not hyperventilating, the events of the past year or so tumbling into whole new patterns for him to consider. So many of the things Jim had done made sense when viewed through a filter of hopeless love. But that wasn't what made Blair want to make like Naomi Sandburg and simply run for his Volvo and drive until he ran out of money and gas. It was the answering echo of despairing need and want from a hidden place inside himself where it had been masquerading under the guise of 'friendship' and 'partners.'
His days of emulating his mother were over, though, and besides, retreat wouldn't make the agony any easier to endure. When he was as calm as he was going to get, he tidied up and left his ridiculous refuge, boldly joining Jim at his post by the balcony doors. To his surprise, he half-hoped that his partner would simply stonewall him as usual, but it seemed as if nothing in life was completely predictable, not even his sentinel. Jim was obviously waiting for Blair to start talking, giving him the advantage of first strike.
So Blair did the most atypical thing he could think of and said simply, "When I was sixteen I asked my best friend to kiss me because I was curious about what it was like with a guy. Nada. No reaction. Not good, not bad, just, well, he kissed me. That's the sum total of my experience with men."
Staring into the distance, Jim shrugged. "Between the army and Vice, I've got more, but not that much, and all of it was nothing." He turned, fixing Blair with a look that held too many emotions for any one to be sorted out and named. "I wasn't interested in the sex thing, Chief. It was never about that, though I wouldn't have said no if you'd made a pass."
"What was it about, then?" Blair had to ask.
Jim's jaw muscle began throbbing, giving away that the answer to that was the real reason he had never said anything. Being Jim, though, he said honestly, "Belonging."
"Shit." Blair dragged a shaking hand through his hair. "Do you think you could pick something that I'm even lousier at doing? That way I can make a complete and total wreck of our lives even faster and easier."
The long fingers that settled in his hair, combing through the strands and putting them in order weren't his own, and Blair stood perfectly still under Jim's welcomed touch. "Yeah, I'm a pro at relationships myself, got a perfect score. You were smart to stay far, far away from me," Jim said with a world's worth of tiredness dogging his voice.
"I'm not afraid of your love," Blair said firmly. "I'm afraid of what I'm going to do to you, egotistical as that sounds. You think I have no idea of what kind of damage I would do once I was all the way in and it was time for me move on?" He punched lightly at the center of Jim's chest in pure frustration. "Guess it's too late to worry about that any more, huh?"
"Pretty much." Jim glanced down at the parking lot, and then stepped back, doing his stone-face and letting the conversation drop like a rock. "Study group's starting to arrive. I'm going to take my turn at the bathroom then go upstairs to read."
"You're not going to clear out for a while, like you usually do?" Blair asked, startled.
"Just because the weirdness has gotten X-rated, doesn't mean I can cut and run now," Jim said shortly. "I'll keep my distance, I promise."
"No," Blair blurted. Embarrassment grabbed him tightly around the chest, but he added, "Listen to your instincts; they're the best guide right now. And if that means you need to have me sit in your lap to keep sane, we'll tell my students that we're conducting an experiment in, I don't know, mass reaction to non-threatening homosexual behavior."
"You know, Sandburg, if it were anybody else, a line like that would never be believed, but I bet those kids would be writing a paper on it in no time."
The effort at banter was a bit strained, Blair thought, but better than he could come up with, so he tried for a smile, got a partial one pasted on, and shot back, "Does this mean I'm going to be perched on those bony knees of yours?"
"Go get the door, Sandburg. I'm going to read."
Jim did as he said, leaving Blair at the balcony doors, feeling strangely cold and isolated.
Thankfully, shortly after Daniel had left Teal'c, he had been able to totally immerse himself in translating some pictographs brought in by SG3. So much so, that when Jack had collected him for the meeting called by Hammond, he trailed along after his friend, his mind mostly on sorting through the possible meanings. Because of that he literally bumped into Colonel Ellison on the other side of the briefing room door, forcing the other man to steady him.
Ellison stared at him for a moment, then at Teal'c coming up the stairs behind them. The two of them exchanged a look that Daniel was sure concerned him, but all Ellison did was wait for the Jaffar to catch up, allowing Teal'c to take his place at Daniel's side. To add to his confusion, Jim murmured in Chopec, "Your heart is in your eyes, my friend." He seated himself at the conference table next to Dr. Sandburg, pausing to whisper something in his ear, and the smaller man glanced at Jack as he sat opposite them. There was so much compassion in that single look that Daniel resolved then and there to never ask what relationship the Jack and Daniel of their universe had had.
Small as the four-way exchange had been, Jack caught something of it and stared at each of them in turn, but apparently decided the time wasn't right for questions. Carefully putting Sam between him and the temptation that was Teal'c, Daniel sat as well, turning his seat to be able to easily see Hammond from his end of the table. He had a momentary, strong, sense of deju vu; they were all back in the same position they'd been in earlier.
The general didn't waste any time this time around either. "Though we both have our doubts, the President has authorized an attack on Apophis' shipyard, provided we can come up with a plan that presents a minimum of risk. Colonel O'Neill will organize and lead the assault party, with Colonel Ellison as a provisional second-in-command. Dr. Sandburg will remain here at SGC to work with Dr. Jackson to devise a method of disseminating his information on a world-wide basis with minimum social impact and maximum scientific availability."
Daniel started to nod, but before he could, Ellison said flatly, "No, sir." Before the stunned silence could grow long enough to be more than noticed, he added firmly, "We're more than willing to take part in the attack, or whatever else you need us to do, but we will not be separated for any reason for any length of time."
"Colonel Ellison, you forget yourself," Hammond snapped. "You are not in a position to be dictating terms."
"Perhaps not," Dr. Sandburg broke in, laying a calming hand on his mate's forearm. "But before you throw us in the brig, there's one thing you need to take into account. How we're carrying our information."
"What relevance does that have...." General Hammond started.
"It's here," Ellison said shortly, pointing to the center of Sandburg's forehead.
"Mnemonic chains imbedded during a meditative trance," Sandburg clarified quietly, and Daniel sat up straighter, suddenly sure he knew what was coming next. "And the key to them is here." Sandburg pointed at Ellison's head.
"I could wring it out of you," Jack said, half-whimsically, half-serious.
"The last person who said that to me," Ellison assured him with blunt deadliness, "Was a five-thousand-year-old Ga'ould who'd spent most of those years torturing slaves into submission. I didn't talk. He's dead. I'm not."
"Ever notice," Sandburg said conversationally to Sam, "That when it's between soldiers, sooner or later any conversation turns into a pecker contest? They could be talking about the weather, and next thing you know, out trots the macho. Must have something to do with the guns."
She managed to kill her snort of laughter, but not before the soldiers in question shot her and Sandburg an irritated glare. Daniel just ducked his head to hide his grin, his opinion of the anthropologist growing considerably.
"Look, General," Sandburg said, "I know that you and the President are looking for a guarantee that we're not part of an elaborate trap of some kind, and I think I know what will do it without over-stimulating anyone's protective instincts." He stood, gesturing at the door. "Could we move this to the Gate Control room? Please?"
"Very well, but this had better be good, Dr. Sandburg." Hammond led the way downstairs, and Daniel deliberately brought up the rear, wanting to be near their guests.
His hunch paid off; he overheard Ellison say quietly, "Are you sure about this, Chief?"
"We're out of time; nothing to do but now but pray the soil is fertile," Sandburg answered.
Daniel stored the brief conversation away, adding it to everything else he had noticed about the two men and hoping to eventually see a pattern take shape. Once in the control room, he stood next to the pair, making room for Sam when Dr. Sandburg gestured her over.
"I'm going to release the Star Gate," he said simply. "With your permission, General, I'll type in the commands very slowly, so Major Carter has time to cancel or abort anything I do if she doesn't like it."
"You'll strand yourself here?" Hammond asked.
"Not stranded; if you know about Mirror technology, then you obviously have access to one. But since we don't know where it is, and, as Sam will be able to confirm, we can't convert your Gate back to a mirror, releasing it effectively makes us your prisoners." Hands poised over a keyboard, Dr. Sandburg sat, then watched the General expectantly, so very calm that Daniel knew that the decision had already been made, whether Hammond agreed or not.
"Major Carter," Hammond asked thoughtfully, "Can you isolate his commands until you're sure they'll do what he claims?"
"Yes, sir, very easily." With a quick flurry of keystrokes, Sam did so, then waited herself for the order.
"Proceed."
Colonel Ellison slid his hand into the hair of the nape of his companion's neck, then bent to say something directly in the closest ear. More loudly he added, "Slowly, slowly." Dr. Sandburg shut his eyes, exhaled a long, careful breath, then began to type. As letters scrolled past on Sam's screen, she breathed "My God!" then began to scribble frantically with pen on paper, hardly able to tear her eyes away.
Daniel looked, but didn't see anything but mathematical symbols and formulas that were meaningless to him. Instead, he concentrated on their visitors, trying not to let himself get sidetracked by the tenderness in Ellison's touch, and looking for the reason that they would willingly surrender the advantage of holding the Gate. Knowing that they 'were out of time,' which could mean that temporal distortion was catching up with them, was a clue, but not enough to unravel the entire mystery.
Typically, Teal'c was studying them as well, but, alarmingly, his expression was closed, even to Daniel's expert interpretation, as if his thoughts were too dangerous to risk the slightest exposure. That made Daniel double-check their guests, but there wasn't anything new for him to see. Dr. Sandburg had finished the program he had been spilling from his memory, and was simply sitting under his lover's touch, leaning back into him as if the effort at recall had been exhausting, his fingers still lightly resting on the keyboard.
With a muttered exclamation, Sam put down her pen and said directly to General Hammond, "They destroyed the origin Gate; that was the only way to have enough power to maintain the mirror from Star Gate to Star Gate."
"Destroyed it!" Jack yelled.
"It was about to fall into Apophis' hands," Ellison said shortly. "Hopefully, half his forces went with it."
"Colonel Ellison, if you wanted to convince me that you and yours hate the Ga'ould beyond any reasoning, you've just succeeded," Hammond said coldly.
Ellison looked uncomfortable at the assessment, but all he said was, "Over six billion reduced to less than ten thousand; our home reduced to fire and ash slowly cooling, incapable of supporting life for *eons,* if ever. No more Rembrandts or Da Vincis, no more Jimi Hendrix or Beethovens. All of our culture reduced to what a handful of people remember and preserve." Somehow, he dredged up a smile and looked down at his mate, tugging once on a curl to get his attention. "Good thing the Jews have had experience in being exiles, huh, Chief?"
"Told you that you'd be glad eventually that you let me guide you," Sandburg answered complacently. To General Hammond he said, "With so few of us left in SGC, our Commander left what to do next open to general discussion. It took us less than an hour to come to a democratic consensus, which Admiral Calavacci said was probably the first time in human history that so many bull-headed, single-minded scientists and stubborn, opinionated soldiers ever agreed on anything without resorting to fist-fights."
"Mankind's finest hour," Jack said sarcastically.
Ellison left his mate's side, moving so fast that even Teal'c didn't have a chance to raise a hand. Getting right in the other colonel's face, he said angrily, "When you've stood in our shoes, then you have a right to pass judgment, Jack, and not before. As I recall, at least once in your life you were the one standing over a bomb deciding whether or not to take out a Gate and the entire resident population! At least I knew the Ga'ould were enemies; did the people of Abydos fit that description, Colonel?"
"Point taken," Jack said softly, not backing down. "Now you take mine; I'd be stupid to think that what is best for your SGC is in the best interests of mine."
"Don't you get it yet, Jack?" Daniel said tiredly, one part of the mystery finally making sense. "There is no more SGC for them, no more *home* for them. If they took out the Gate, they took out the planet it was on."
Everyone stared at him, but it was Dr. Sandburg who said quietly, "It was all there was left to do. It's a thin hope that our 'antibodies' will eventually spread back to our universe, but it's the only hope we could give our children and their children in turn. That one distant day, they would be free again."
Shakily, he stood up, facing Hammond directly. "Short of opening up my head like a book and letting you read it, there's nothing else we can do to convince you we're sincere and only want to help you beat the Ga'ould. Will you either just throw us in the brig or let us get to work? Please?"
Hammond looked at Colonel Ellison, who had taken a step away from Jack and was rubbing tiredly at the back of his neck, head down and looking slightly ashamed. Then he studied each member of SG1 in turn for a long moment, and when Daniel's turn came, he did his best to project the belief he held that they should trust the opportunity they were being given. Finally, the General said, "Major Carter, please contact the Tok'ra; for once I believe they might be eager to help us on a mission."
"Yes, sir!"
"Colonel Ellison, what is the best use that we can make of you and Dr. Sandburg on that mission?" Hammond went on quietly.
"I'll leave that up to O'Neill, if you don't mind, sir," Ellison said gratefully. "He's worked with Rangers before." There was a hint of a question in the statement, and he glanced over at Jack for confirmation. "And he has a good idea of what we can do. My expertise is reconnaissance and point man, and I'm a decent field medic."
"We'll think of something for you," O'Neill said. "Carter, which team do you want to be on: mine or Daniel's?"
Her wide-eyed indecision over whether to pick science or military action got a scattering of smothered laughter which died quickly when she swung around glaring.
The six of them wound up taking over the conference room with Daniel, Sam, and Sandburg at one end, and Teal'c, Jack, and Ellison at the other. Technically, that is. In reality, all of them moved back and forth from one project to the other, trading opinions, ideas, information until it was time to start writing up their briefs for the general. Then they all settled down with the usual complaints about paperwork with Ellison saying in gruff near-humor that the only good thing about losing a war was not having to do the paperwork.
For the most part, Daniel was able to keep his mind on his job, though he found himself staring at the other end of the table far too often. When he caught himself at it, he pretended he was simply staring into space to think, and not admiring the way Teal'c's huge hands were so deft with a pencil. Unfortunately, Sam didn't buy it; she kept stealing suspicious peeks at him from the corner of her eye.
Finally, under the cover of conversation from the assault team, she said very quietly, "Daniel, neither the colonel nor I give a damn, but if you don't quit looking at Teal'c with so much longing, some of the redder necks around here are going to cause problems."
Guiltily, Daniel forced his eyes down to the paper he was supposed to be writing on. "I know, I know! It's just... it's new to me. I didn't even know I had a closet that I needed to hide in!"
Sturdy fingers flitted reassuringly over the back of his hand, and Dr. Sandburg said, "I'm sorry, I couldn't help overhearing. If it's any help, it does get easier when the honeymoon phase is over." He grinned, suddenly looking about eighteen years old. "Then it gets hard again when the real love kicks in after the hormonal infatuation fades, but at least you've got some practice by then."
"Practice," Daniel said doubtfully, trying to not to sneak another look and failing miserably.
Serious again, Dr. Sandburg added, "And inspiration. Like the first time someone calls you a filthy name because of who you love and Teal'c slams them into a wall."
That brought Daniel's eyes back where they belonged, and he started writing with determination. "Teal'c wouldn't slam them into a wall," he muttered.
"No," Sam agreed, "He'd just break their neck, then apologize to Hammond for stepping outside of the chain of command and not letting the general deal with it."
"My God, Hammond," Daniel nearly moaned, hanging his head so no one could see the despair on his face.
"Will be okay with it," Sam quickly assured him. "Just don't rub his nose in it so he has to officially notice."
"Which brings me right back to the closet I don't know how to be in," Daniel muttered.
"Don't get carried away with caution, either," Dr. Sandburg said softly, sadly. "You and Teal'c are both soldiers, warriors that might have to die in the line of duty five minutes from now. Don't be stupid, but don't waste what opportunities you have, either."
Sam studied him thoughtfully. "You sound like...."
The rest of her question was lost when Dr. Sandburg leapt to his feet, then threw himself down the length of the conference table, sliding on one hip with astonishing grace until he was at the other end. When he reached his mate, he pivoted on his backside and slithered between Ellison's out-stretched arms, barely missing where his hands had a white-knuckled grip on the edge of the table. Sitting astride his spouse's lap, he leaned in until they were nearly forehead-to-forehead, hands locked at the back of Ellison's neck.
It happened so quickly that Daniel didn't even realize that the colonel was being hit by a dimensional cascade until the remembered seizure-like jerking was in full swing. Dr. Sandburg absorbed the worst of the backbreaking shocks, murmuring reassurances too softly for anyone to be able to understand. Helplessly, Daniel stood and watched, waiting for the slightest sign that there was something he could do to assist.
In the end, all he could do was sigh in relief with the others when Ellison finally sagged into his chair, his head falling forward onto Dr. Sandburg's shoulder, arms dropping around his waist. "We're going to need to take a break," Dr. Sandburg said apologetically, hands drifting several inches over his spouse's body, as if afraid to touch directly.
"No problem," Jack said instantly. "It's past dinner time anyway. We'll end where we are, meet back here later. Want me to have an airman bring something to your room?"
Dr. Sandburg said absently, "No, thank you. We'll stop by the mess on the way back." Urging his spouse to his feet, Sandburg wrapped a arm around Ellison's waist, lending support while the bigger man carefully made his way toward the door, head hanging almost to his chest.
As nonchalantly as possible, Daniel stepped past the guards and took Colonel Ellison's other side, lifting the tense arm over his own shoulders. "Dr. Sandburg, have you given any thought to having a ISP created and having it serve as a clearing house for the information, in addition to the general press release?" he said, as if continuing their discussion was the reason why he joined them as they left the conference room.
"It's a thought," Dr. Sandburg said a bit tightly, taking most of Ellison's weight. "However, I doubt that we could put up a strong enough firewall to keep someone like Maybourne from shutting it down or simply corrupting it."
Somehow they managed a coherent conversation all the way back to the guest quarters, then Daniel stopped them two doors short of the room they'd been in. "This one is for VIP's," he explained quietly. "The security camera feeds only into Hammond's office, and into Dr. Fraiser's if she feels it's required. I can bring you anything you need from your first room."
"We didn't leave anything there."
Daniel opened the door, and heard as he shut it behind the barely upright pair, "Don't waste your opportunities." Not sure who had said it, he left, head down in thought.
Though the crash of Jim's book to the floor was the first real warning he had that something was wrong, Blair had known a split second before the sound. A sensation that he had no name for but which felt like ice-barbed electricity slithering down and around his spine, made him look up at Jim's bedroom just before he heard the noise. It was in time to see long fingers wrap themselves tightly around the high-tension wires that served as railing.
Closing the door behind the last of his study group as she left, hardly hearing her startled protest at his abruptness, Blair raced up the stairs two at a time, not pausing when he reached the top. Even as he was hurtling himself onto the bed, he took in the silent agony on his partner's face, back bowed as Jim struggled to deal with the onslaught of pain, taut arm and chest muscles standing out in strained contraction from the effort. Acting on impulse born from the same place as the knowledge Jim was under attack, Blair crawled on top of him, not adding his weight to his sentinel's burden, but giving him the sparse comfort of his nearness.
Far too much later, Jim took a single deep, unconstrained breath, then collapsed onto the mattress, arms falling limply onto the pillow. "Over," he muttered exhaustedly.
"That seemed stronger than what got me," Blair murmured, irrationally running fast hands over the trembling limbs, as if he were the sentinel and could sense any injuries. "Maybe we should do the hospital; make sure this isn't poison or some obscure disease.
"Hard to judge if it's worse than yours," Jim said, eyelids flickering down. "And it's not coming from inside; I can tell. It's an outside attack. Like having someone jam a live wire into your gut, or dump white hot glass shards over your head." He rolled heavily to his to his side, and Blair deliberately went with him, putting his arms around Jim's shoulders and hugging his head to his chest.
Before Jim could complain or try to get away, Blair said firmly, "Okay, then maybe you should rest while you can, since it's a pretty good bet this is going to happen again. I'll stay awake and keep an eye on things for a while."
"I can stand watch," Jim mumbled stubbornly, though he was moving his head as if looking for the best place to pillow it on the arm Blair had under him.
"Remember what you said earlier about wanting to stay close? Well that goes double for me, and my heart is still running a marathon from this last scare," Blair said reasonably. "You might as well 'go off duty' while I convince my body that stroking out is not a good response to the situation."
He expected another argument, but a soft snore from the general vicinity of his arm pit told Blair that Jim had dropped off whether he wanted to or not. Grabbing the edge of the comforter, Blair pulled it over them, taking care to tuck it around his partner's shoulders, though it left his own exposed to the early evening air. Worried because it was obvious to him that Jim's attack had been worse than his, Blair focused on an imaginary spot on the wall and tried to find some order for his whirling thoughts.
One thing became clear very quickly; he liked keeping watch over his sentinel. It touched a part of him that Blair didn't really recognize, making him feel both very tender toward the man cradled in his arms, and very empowered, as if Jim had given him a part of his strength by allowing the tiny hint of vulnerability. In a strange way, it seemed the most obvious sign of trust that Blair had had from him, though, when he really thought about it, he had to admit that wasn't true.
After all, Jim had trusted him to watch his back almost from the start. Then he had let Blair, nearly a total stranger at the time, move into the loft, though that was supposed to be strictly temporary. And there was the time Jim had been blind because of Golden. How much trust did it take to let someone else act as your eyes by whispering in your ear long-distance while you walk up to armed criminals that you couldn't even see? He even knew the man's bankcard pin number, for god's sake!
Blair made a minor adjustment to the covering over Jim, wondering why, since he had let Blair in so deep from the very beginning, that *trust* had been the one thing that came up most when they fought. That question kept him occupied for a time, but eventually he stopped shying from the obvious truth and made himself look at the only possible reason. It wasn't that Jim didn't trust him. It was because Jim didn't have any reason to think Blair trusted *him,* and because of that would eventually betray him. Which was exactly what happened, inadvertent though it had been.
Like the anthropologist he'd wanted to be and the outsider he really was, Blair had burrowed completely into Jim's life on the pretext of studying his sentinel abilities, without once letting the man past his own walls. Blair knew Jim's pin number; Jim hadn't even known Blair's birthday until Naomi told him. Every important moment of his partner's life that Blair had been able to pinpoint, had been documented, mulled over, then added or dismissed from the dissertation. Jim didn't have a clue when Blair had graduated from high school or even where he'd gotten his master's degree.
All he knew was the superficial stuff, or the half-truths that Blair had given out to pacify his friend when he asked questions. For the most part, he hid the important things, and turned away from Jim when he was hurt, defending his vulnerability by being elsewhere and avoiding those too compassionate, too observant blue eyes. He'd been telling himself it was to keep the two of them from getting too close, but it hadn't worked, had it?
They were past close, and whether Blair had wanted it or not, Jim was as much a part of his life as he was of Jim's. So much so, that just walking away had long since stopped being an option, though he'd been denying that with everything he had. For once, there wasn't going to be any 'detaching with love,' because it would be ripping love out by the roots; something he'd spent his whole life trying to avoid. He'd had far too close a look at how much harm it caused.
Sighing, suddenly calm and centered, Blair let his feeble attempt at self-preservation go. This, and he gave Jim a gentle squeeze, pulling him a tiny bit closer, was what it was, and, if he were really going to be honest with himself, it was already pretty damned good. Mind settled, he matched his breathing to Jim's, letting the rhythm of inhaling and exhaling flow from Jim into himself, noting with satisfaction that the heart he could feel thumping at his middle was keeping perfect time with his own. Using that as his focus, he meditated until a change in it told him his partner was waking up.
When Jim lifted his head, looking sheepish and apologetic, Blair smiled at him, then reached to cover his lips with his own. For one heart-breaking second, he thought Jim was going to reject the caress, then the thin line of pain flowed away into warm, soft welcome that rapidly heated into hunger. A stray thought drifted by - if Paul had kissed him like this when he was sixteen, his entire sex life would have been completely different - then any kind of coherent cogitation became impossible.
A soft sweep of tongue requested permission to taste more deeply, and Blair willingly opened to his new lover, moaning quietly at the loving exploration of the rough velvet. There was an answering cry of passion from Jim, inciting Blair to his own tentative probing of the moist fire waiting on the other side of eager lips. Like their breathing earlier, the kiss flowed back and forth, growing more sure and needy with each exchange.
Just when Blair thought he would burst into flame from the incendiary sparks jabbing through his middle, Jim tore away, lifting enough for them to see into each other's face. "Do you know what you're doing, Chief?" he asked roughly.
"Surrendering," Blair answered serenely. "Admitting that this is where I want to be, this is what I want to be doing, and nothing else matters."
"I shouldn't let you," Jim muttered, fingers trailing delicately over his lover's temple and cheek, as if they were fragile and infinitely precious. "But after what Alex did to us...." Not giving him a chance to question what, exactly, he meant by that, he covered Blair's mouth again, this time not restraining the power of his want.
His own surged out to meet it, and, back arching to get as close to Jim as possible, Blair unintentionally started them dry humping into each other. Bodies out of control, they writhed frantically, erection straining against erection through too many layers of fabric. It wasn't enough for either of them, and, before the frustration could reach a painful level, Jim broke their kiss again, this time mouthing and nipping his way along a bristled jaw to a be-jeweled ear. As if Blair had given him instructions on what would send spikes of pure pleasure into him, he tugged on the lobe, sucking at it briefly, then abruptly fastened his teeth into the junction of Blair's shoulder and neck, sucking at it voraciously.
With a choked shout as climax shattered over him, Blair lost all of his senses except touch, and that was centered in his hard-on, where the bursts of his seed leaving sent hard shocks of ecstasy into what was left of his mind. When the last one ricocheted over his nerves, his lover released his marked flesh, and whispered, "Blair," barely loud enough to be heard. A moment later, violent trembling told Blair that Jim was finishing himself, and he weakly hung onto the quaking form, wanting to negate the way he had run the last time he had heard that love-drenched word.
By the time Jim relaxed into the circle of his arms again, Blair's head was clear, and he was dreading the moment when his partner would draw away and force them to face what had happened. But Jim stayed in his sanctuary at Blair's throat, and said quietly, "I promise, when the time comes, I'll let you go without hurting you or making it harder than it has to be."
It was so totally what he didn't expect to hear, that for a second all Blair could do was swallow against the sting of tears. When he could trust his voice, he said flatly, fiercely, "That's not the promise I want. I want you to stop me, fight with me, kidnap me and bring me back home, hit me over the head and drag me back, whatever it takes. Don't give up on me, Jim, and don't let me give up on us."
"Blair," he started uncertainly.
"I mean it. I expect you to devote every ounce of that Ranger stubbornness, cop pig-headedness, and sentinel determination to keeping us together." Blair managed a choked laugh. "That is your mission, should you choose to accept it."
"And if you really need to go?" Jim asked, the pain a barely audible thread under the words.
"Then I'll tell you, just like that, and why. That's my promise; that I won't let you fight a lost cause. Maybe it's not a vow of undying love and fidelity, but right now, it's the best I can do."
"Works for me, Chief," Jim said, speaking with obvious difficulty. "Works for me."
Jarred awake, disconcerted because he had been sleeping instead of guarding his mate, Blair leaned up on one elbow and looked around the dimly lit room. There was no sign of what had awakened him, and thinking that maybe it was only the familiarity of being back in the Mountain, back in an SGC, even if it wasn't their SGC, that had even allowed him to doze off in the first place, he slowly lay back down, squirming backwards to refit himself into the curve of Jim's body.
It was only when his backside bumped into his mate's very rampant maleness did he become aware of his own tenting the front of his boxers. Nonplused because it was the last thing he expected given how weak Jim had been when they'd first gotten to their room, not to mention they'd made love once already, Blair angled back into the hard-on, letting it nudge his cleft, not sure what he wanted to do about it. Then Jim draped a heavy arm over his waist and pulled him in tight, groaning softly in pleasure.
"God, Chief," he muttered. "You smell like you're dying to be loved." Sleepily he nosed aside curls until he reached the nape of Blair's neck, then he kissed it. "Taste like it, too."
Shivering in delight at the cold/hot race of arousal arcing from that spot, Blair said huskily, "Just smell and taste?"
"Mmmm... Sound - fast heartbeat and ragged breathing. Feel?" Jim cupped him intimately, long fingers mapping out Blair's full length. "Oh, definitely."
"Uh, that, uh, leaves...." Blair struggled to find a couple of brain cells that weren't screaming for him to shut up and get naked.
"Sight." Jim made a few million of Blair's neurons happy and tugged down his boxers, using a deft foot to snag and get them entirely down the restlessly moving legs. "That's five out of five. Guess that means that you are really...." He pressed his erection hard against a firm bottom. "Really...." A slight shift in position had it sliding along the entire crease, ending with a gentle nudge into the underside of furred balls. "Really interested in getting laid."
With a strangled snort of amusement, Blair fumbled for the pants Jim had left draped over a chair next to the bed, and came up with a foil pack of concentrated KY. "So what's taking you so long?" He reached back to give him the packet, bending at the waist in blatant invitation.
"Damn," Jim said reverently. Then slick, eager fingers found their way to Blair's center, not that he needed much preparation. His blood was racing like he was seventeen again, hormones rioting in mad demand for physical satisfaction. Just the hasty invasion for lubing had him groaning, hips rocking back for more.
When the blunt crown of Jim's need came to rest at his pucker, Blair covered his mouth with his own hand to hold back a shout at the first wondrous rush of penetration. It was so incredibly good that it almost wasn't enough, then Jim's hand joined his as a gag, which was a very necessary thing. Withdrawing hurriedly, Jim slammed back in, nearly sending Blair off the bed with a blast of pure pleasure that was duplicated a second later when he thrust again.
After that, all Blair could do was give his body to his lover's care because he was beyond anything except pathetic whimpers of joy that seeped past the silencing digits. Climax crashed its way down his spine, making holding off until Jim was closer to his own release impossible, much as Blair wanted to cross the finish line with him. Then for a moment everything stopped - lungs, heart, brain - and the universe was a blinding, deafening avalanche of ecstasy that was both timeless and heart-breakingly brief.
Panting, astonished at the force of his finish, Blair came back to himself, automatically adjusting to his mate's urgent pumping. There was a ragged edge about it that had him belatedly worrying about his sentinel's remaining resources, then Jim killed a scream deep in his chest and stiffened. His whole body shook with the force of his completion, which seemed to go on and on, jacking Blair's concern up another level.
Eventually, though, it ended, and Jim drooped over him, gasping for breath so harshly that Blair squirmed away enough to turn and run his hands through the air a few inches above his torso. Amazingly the thrum of life against his palms was stronger than it had been earlier, and even the blackness eroding the marriage bracelets hadn't gained any ground. Before he could ask anything, Jim volunteered breathlessly, "That wasn't us."
Despite it all, Blair couldn't help quirking an eyebrow and looking down at the wetness covering his belly, his lips pursed as if stopping a question. Gently cuffing the side of his head, Jim grinned broadly. "*That* was us; the inspiration wasn't. I think we accidentally tapped into our alternates while we were sleeping. Check for yourself."
At his suggestion, Blair closed his eyes and concentrated on the faint echo within his own mind that he had learned was the presence of his counterpart on whatever Earth they were on. It was vibrant, strong, and reaching back for him as if sensing his mental touch. "He's seeking," Blair said slowly. "Learning, but not an adept yet."
Running a finger over the metal circlet that marked Blair's adept status, Jim said, "That's good; it means the humans of this universe aren't completely ignorant of mental potential. Have you seen any sign that Daniel knows he's gifted?"
"Other than his ability with language? No." Blair hesitated a moment, then added, "Maybe it's time you tell me the real reason you want me to teach him, instead of my alternate. It would be much easier to teach this world's Sandburg, especially if he's already seeking."
"What's wrong with the reasons I gave the first time we had this discussion?" Jim said gruffly, reaching for his tee-shirt to begin cleaning them both up.
"Nothing. It's perfectly logical to work with somebody that's already in SGC instead of having to fight to get a 'wild card' brought in. And it is a documented fact that alternates often can't stand each other, making working with them difficult if not impossible, though there's no reason to think that would necessarily be the case in this instance. We are talking about adepts and near-adepts here." Blair accepted the attention, keeping his tone mild.
But when Jim started to leave the bed to go back to the conference room, Blair stopped him by wrapping both arms around his neck, being careful of the spreading and worsening wound from the trizatas. "I know you better than to buy that's all going on behind those baby-blues of yours. Give." As lovingly as he could, he added, "This is not the time to have anything unspoken between us. Please?"
Leaning over him, two fingers finding a lock of hair to play with, Jim studied him for a minute, then confessed, "I don't want to mess with your counterpart's life. Remember the Earth where Maybourne summarily ordered the execution of their Sandburg and Ellison to negate the temporal distortion in us so they would have longer to try to force us to talk?"
With a shudder, Blair nodded, seeing where his mate was going. But he kept silent, wanting Jim to free himself from these last chains of guilt and pain.
"Then there was the one where they were both married to women and had families. When that Sandburg's wife learned you and I were together, she went berserk and shot and killed him, then their children, then herself."
He couldn't let that one pass; not after having so many nightmares about the children himself. "Jim, if she was that unstable, it would have happened sooner or later, regardless of us, or of that Sandburg's true relationship with his sentinel. You said yourself they would have been together if it hadn't been for taking wives before they even met. Carrie would have sensed that; she was as gifted as that Blair."
"I know, I know! But it doesn't make it any easier to leave destroyed lives behind us."
Seeing what was at the core of his mate's sorrow, Blair said carefully, "You didn't ruin my life, you know. I have never once regretted taking your hand in mine."
Bending his head so that his expression couldn't be seen, Jim admitted, "I've regretted for you. Regretted all those years you and your mom were estranged because of me."
"She saw the right of it, eventually," Blair said sadly.
"I never had a doubt that she wouldn't, remember?" Jim brushed a kiss over his forehead. "It was just so much at once. If she had found out that you'd chosen to marry a man, she would have sorrowed for the lost grandchildren, the end of her father's line of gifted and wise scholars, but she would have accepted it as your choice, and your love. Once she got over that, finding out that I was Catholic would have been hard, but she wasn't a hypocrite. She'd been fighting for religious tolerance and equality for years. Even when things were bad, I think she was proud of you for living up to her standards."
Wearily, but accepting it as the truth, Blair finished the litany of regret for him. "But I didn't just marry a male Catholic; I married a baby-killing enforcer of the corrupt establishment, then promptly joined that same despised establishment, and couldn't even give her a good reason why since SGC was still classified top secret back then. For her it was like I betrayed every principal she'd ever tried to teach me."
"I saw what having her turn her back on you did to you," Jim said. "I just don't want to have any of the Sandburgs have to face something like that because of us. If they're already with the SGC, that's one thing. But I'm not going to be the reason for ruining your life, even if it's an alternate's life."
Blair didn't know what to say to that, mainly because he'd initially agreed to keep their counterparts out of it for his own fear of what might happen to a Jim Ellison whose sentinel abilities were suppressed or being hidden. He'd been on too many worlds where being 'different' from the accepted norm could be a death sentence, and had never been on an Earth where sentinels weren't considered, at least, unusual. The irony of both of them trying to protect each other's double was too much, and he chuckled. "So the whole Blessed Protector thing applies to all Blair Sandburgs, huh?"
Jim gave him the half-grin that he used when he was caught being irrational and pre-civilized. "Well, you never mentioned any limitations on that particular responsibility."
"Which is probably a good thing. It's a good mental attitude for a sentinel not only trying to save the universe, but trying to save all of them," Blair shot back dryly.
"Speaking of which...." Jim gave Blair a last quick kiss and crawled out of bed. "They're waiting for us, Chief."
"Like always, lover," he grumbled, getting up himself. "Like always."
* * *
Putting the last label on the last manila envelope, Daniel lined it up with the rest, and sighed. The fanned out series of addresses was a veritable who's who of scientists, not just in America, but of every country that could boast of a major genius. When they were filled with the information from Dr. Sandburg, they would be messengered by armed soldiers to the recipients, and signed for.
It had taken most of the night, and wouldn't have been possible at all if Dr. Sandburg hadn't already had several excellent plans for Hammond and SG1 to choose from. It was eerie, Daniel decided, to have someone know you and your people so well, that they could practically read your mind. As it was, he had spent more time trying to find the whereabouts of the researchers that Dr. Sandburg wanted to give the packets to, than debating how they should be delivered.
"They deserve the credit for the work," the anthropologist had said solemnly, "because they *would* have done it if I hadn't interfered."
For the geniuses that didn't exist in this alternity, they had had to find substitutes, though again Dr. Sandburg had been prepared with viable replacements. Once the team had taken out Agaeis Prime to satisfy the President of the validity of the source, key formulas, theories, and facts would be sent to the chosen scientist with a cover letter explaining that the initial work had been done by a top-secret research facility, but that the individual responsible was no longer able to continue it. Ironically, that was nothing but the simple truth.
Making sure that the envelopes were received, acknowledged and acted upon was going to take a massive amount of organization, Daniel realized tiredly. As would the behind the scenes maneuvering to guarantee funding for the 'new' research, double-checking that it was going in the direction needed, and finding subtle ways to drop hints from the proposed main data base if things got stalled. Not to mention there was a back-up plan of e-mails and web pages of 'anonymous' tips to prevent the results of the unexpected gift of information from being suppressed or becoming the exclusive property of the wrong people.
All in all, it looked to Daniel as if a brand-new presidential position was going to be needed, or at least, an old one bent to fit the bill. And he was not, he told himself firmly, going to be the one filling it. Been there, done that, and he didn't like the human who had been both the creator and created of it, even if none of it had been real. Hopefully, since this information was being spread so widely, as opposed to sitting in a single man's head, no delusions of megalomania would cause it to be misused.
The reminder of the head it was currently sitting in made him look over at Dr. Sandburg energetically typing on a laptop, not spilling his information yet, but plainly structuring a spreadsheet to organize it when he did. Colonel Ellison was practically on top of both of them, so obviously guarding that Daniel had to look down to the other end of the table at where the rest of SG1 were arguing with Jacob Carter on how to take Agaeis Prime.
It had been clear from the moment the Tok'ra had arrived, that, supposed allies or not, Ellison didn't trust any Ga'ould except one at the business end of a weapon. While that met Jack's approval in general, the situation was tense until Dr. Sandburg suggested that his mate work with him. That seemed to consist of offering an occasional name or reminding his partner of some detail - that and glowering at the Tok'ra if he moved too far from their end of the room.
The odd thing was that Teal'c not only knew what Ellison was doing, but he obviously approved of it. That his would-be lover would want him protected shouldn't be a surprise, Daniel supposed, and he could see where that could cause trouble on future missions. One thing he was sure of, he was not going to be the one staying behind, safe and sound. No, the odd thing was that Teal'c clearly agreed with Ellison that there was something for him and Dr. Sandburg to be protected *from.* And since neither Jack nor Sam were oblivious to the guarding nor protesting it, that meant they thought so, too, as if Ellison's wariness of the Tok'ra were contagious. Selmak's reaction to the briefing on the day's events hadn't been positive, Daniel admitted to himself, but surely it hadn't been so bad that SG1 should consider him dangerous now.
Puzzled by that, a little surprised by the good feeling their concern gave him, he studied the small group, trying to see what had SG1 and company on alert. Then Jack looked over and yelled, "Daniel, get down here and explain to this so-called gentleman simply blowing up the planet, workers and all, is not a viable option."
Rising to do as told, he caught Ellison and Teal'c exchanging a look. Teal'c then stepped back slightly from the table so that he could see everyone. The buck had just been passed, he realized with a start, and the buck was him. Even more bewildered, he walked down toward Jack and Sam, seeing both self-appointed sentries relax fractionally when he kept his teammates between him and Jacob as he studied Colonel Ellison's diagrams.
Looking down at the one of the shipyard's layout, Daniel put away his newest mystery until later and concentrated on the problem at hand. "Most of the workers have to be aware that their 'gods' power is nothing but the machinery they're making; they'd be more valuable to us as dissidents living among their own people than they would be as corpses," he said flatly. "Not to mention, there's bound to be more than a few who would probably be willing to work for the Tok'ra, if it meant a chance to bring down those self-same so-called gods."
"Their skills are too important to Apophis for him to allow them to remain free if we should be able to liberate them," Jacob/Selmak argued. "They'd just be recaptured."
"If he knows we freed them," Daniel agreed. "We'll have to make him think they were all destroyed with the shipyard and mine."
Looking very exasperated, Jacob plopped into the chair at the head of the table and said, "And how exactly do you plan on accomplishing getting all of them off planet, let alone hiding that it was done? Or are you already counting on using some wonderful device from your new allies?"
Eyeing the layout and ignoring Jacob's last sarcastic words, Daniel said thoughtfully, "Your people have done reconnaissance already, haven't they?"
Seemingly taken aback at the assumption, Jacob moderated his tone and admitted cautiously, "We've confirmed the system was there, and a little judicious surveillance showed that for a presumably dead planet, it had a surprising number power sources on it."
From behind them, Dr. Sandburg asked as he and his partner approached, "Did they actually see the shipyard?"
"High resolution image of the largest power source showed a mother ship," Jacob said warily, "about two-thirds complete."
"Chief," Ellison said with some amusement, "you promised me you wouldn't steal any more starships."
"Technically, I'm not going to," Dr. Sandburg said, trying to sound very reasonable but not able to hide his grin. "The workers are. We're just going to help them."
"You've done this before?" Jack asked, sounding more curious than critical.
"No," Ellison said shortly. "It wouldn't have done us any good by the time our Tok'ra decided to share this particular tidbit; Apophis didn't need Agaeis Prime any more. We wouldn't have found out about it at all except that a rebellion there was preventing the Tok'ra from smuggling out the nacquada they'd been taking, and they wanted our help establishing contact with the rebels. Seems they didn't trust any kind of Ga'ould by that time."
"We can tell you how the Tok'ra got in and out of the system without being detected," Sandburg offered helpfully. "They imitated asteroids. They plotted the paths of some of the larger sized debris and leap-frogged from rock to rock until they reached the surface. Even with anomalous gravitational fields, it works because the ship isn't actually navigating; it's taking advantage of what's naturally provided. Slow, maybe, but effective."
"Kind of like hopping from stone to stone to cross a stream," Daniel said thoughtfully. "One question: how do they get the ships they build out, once construction is completed?"
"Apparently, they launch from the surface under full power," Ellison said. "It's one reason the mine and living quarters are so far from the dock. Still, there is evidence to suggest some of the ships haven't made it."
"So there's no guarantee that even if you can somehow gain their trust well enough to get them to make a break for the ship, that they'll survive the attempt," Jacob said bluntly. "And how many will die trying? It's not likely that Apophis' people haven't had slaves try to stowaway, or take a ship before; they have defenses for those contingencies. Since we have a way in, the best thing to do is simply detonate a nuclear bomb in the mine. Anything else is a waste of our very limited resources."
Sam, who had been uncharacteristically listening to both sides of the debate without offering an opinion, spoke up. "As delicately balanced as the gravity is on that planet, the kinds of quakes an explosion of that magnitude will cause will in all likelihood cause it to come apart at the seams. There won't be any survivors left, except maybe the few Ga'ould or Jaffa who can get through the Star Gate." Daniel thought there was an element of outrage carefully hidden under the formal respect she used.
"At least the ending will be quick," Jacob said sourly. "And our lives won't be risked unnecessarily."
Staring at her father as if she couldn't believe she'd heard him correctly, she said, "They deserve a chance."
"Fine," Jacob snapped. "Give me a way to give it to them that won't take months of covert ops. There's no point it destroying it after Apophis has had time to stockpile ships and nacquada."
"If they rebelled in an alternate," Daniel said quietly, wishing he could make her father's attitude less painful for Sam, "They may well be ready to rebel here. Colonel Ellison, do you have any names?"
"No," he answered, apparently deep in thought. "But getting them wouldn't be a problem if Sandburg and I could move among the slaves. He can get a tree to give up its secrets, and I have my own methods." A second later he added reluctantly, "On the other hand, getting them to trust us...."
"They would trust Teal'c," Daniel volunteered uneasily, catching his lover's eye and trying to look apologetic. "I doubt there's a single one of Apophis' slaves or Jaffa who doesn't know about the First Prime that turned on him. His... rage and thirst for revenge made it impossible to hide, even from other System Lords."
"Yeah, which makes him instantly recognizable," Jack objected, also glancing at their teammate. "He'd get tossed into a hole the split second after a 'loyal' Jaffar laid eyes on him."
"Which means we don't hide him," Sandburg said distractedly. "Is there any Ga'ould in your universe besides Apophis who might legitimately have access to the Star Gate at Agaeis Prime?"
"Trojan horse," Ellison murmured, nodding in agreement. "We used that successfully several times before the Ga'ould back home caught on. Here, it's a brand new trick, and if we do it right, there won't be anybody left to tell how we infiltrated the shipyard. For one reason or the other."
The last words were grim, and Daniel caught himself before he could protest. For the ones they saved to be safe, there could be no survivors left behind. Instead, he asked, "You have a way to create a 'false' Ga'ould?"
"I don't like the sound of that," Jacob barked.
"Tough," Jack barked back. To Ellison he said, "Glowing eyes and voice would be easy enough, but both Jaffa and Ga'ould can 'feel' snakeheads."
"We can fake that, too," Sandburg assured him. "Which brings us back to the original question: who else besides Apophis could have access to that Gate?"
"Klorel," Daniel said, watching Jack. "He's Apophis' heir. If he came through the Gate with the shol'va in chains, he could make a case that it was the one place Teal'c couldn't escape or be rescued from."
"I am not," Jack said angrily, "Bringing Skaara into this mess."
"Jack," Ellison said quietly, "You don't have to. The body doesn't matter; just the attitude. And Skaara hates - or I should say, the Skaara I know - hates Ga'ould too much to ever be able to do this kind cov-op work."
"He's right," Daniel added hastily. "Besides, how many people are going to know what Klorel's new body looks like?"
"New body? He was removed from Skaara in this universe?" Blair asked.
"Not in yours?" Sam confirmed obliquely.
"No, we killed his snake." Ellison looked at his spouse. "You want to go in as Klorel."
It wasn't a question, and Sandburg perched edge of the table before he explained himself. "As a Ga'ould torn from his host, I can pass off a temporal distortion episode as damage from the removal. Same for any other weirdness we need to cover, like insisting that all the workers be at the ship at some given time. I can also learn from the supervisors who they consider to be the trouble-makers."
"Then Jack and I can be your 'guards,' faces hidden by the armor," Daniel added, seeing where the man's clever mind was taking them. "Ellison, too. What about Sam?"
"I can't go in as a guard," Ellison said, sitting in a chair near where his mate was perched. "While Blair's working on finding the leaders from the topside, we need to be doing the same thing from the bottom. One of us needs to be a body servant or someone like that who can move through the populace. My face is unknown, and since we have to factor in temporal distortion for me, too, I'm the best candidate for that. The episodes can be 'punishment' for some error. As for Sam..."
All eyes turned to her, and she shrugged. "I'm not as well known as Teal'c, but I could be recognized. Maybe another captive?"
"Actually, Sam, I'd like for you to join me on this mission," Jacob said unexpectedly. "What you said earlier about the quakes tipping the balance for Agaeis Prime.... If we can do that, especially if we can set some quakes off before the big one, Apophis will think he lost the shipyard to natural causes. He won't have any reason to look for the ship, the people, or the Tok'ra."
"Artificially caused quakes," Sam said thoughtfully, pulling out the star chart from under the shipyard layout. "Asteroid hits, maybe? Plenty of them close in and you could hardly call the orbit for any of them stable."
"Wouldn't they have automated defenses against that sort of thing?" Daniel asked, absently adjusting his glasses and bending over the plastic sheet with her.
"Only for the area immediately around the mine and shipyard; they wouldn't care about the rest of the planet," she said in excitement. "And I'd bet they routinely keep track of the really big ones and destroy them if they look like they might make landfall too close by."
"Bumper shot in pool," Sandburg offered. "Pick out a few that could dislodge others from their normal path. That way, even if they check the ones that fell, no signs of interference."
"They'd need to be fairly large, but since we wouldn't have to hit them straight on..." Sam muttered to herself. She started scribbling figures on the side of the sheet, her father looking over her shoulder.
While she did that, Jack looked over at Teal'c and asked, "Are you okay with putting your head in a noose like this?"
"I will do whatever is required of me, O'Neill," the Jaffar said calmly.
"That wasn't what I asked," Jack said. "I know you're a soldier, proud to serve and all that. But since you're the one being dragged through the Gate like the spoils of battle, you deserve an opinion about this scheme we're cooking up over here."
Realizing that Jack was asking because of him, Daniel kept his head over the shipyard layout, pretending intense concentration. This was going to be the hard part he'd worried about earlier; accepting that he was going to have to let his warrior be a warrior, and not interfere, The only consolation he had was that Teal'c had exactly the same problem. Suddenly, Dr. Sandburg's words from earlier came back to haunt him, and Daniel wished with all he had that he and Teal'c had made love when they had had the chance.
"I believe," Teal'c said, "That the plan is a sound one. The Ga'ould often keep enemies chained close at hand so that they may be punished at the whim of their captor. Such unfortunates are often put on display as well, as discouragement to other potential heretics. In addition, if Dr. Sandburg is capable of impersonating Klorel, his word will not be questioned by any one less than Apophis himself. The greatest danger lies in Apophis or Klorel, themselves, unexpectedly arriving on Agaeis Prime."
"Klorel's whereabouts are known," Jacob said dismissively. "As are Apophis'. We can guarantee that for about forty-eight hours, no more."
"We don't have much more than that in this alternate," Dr. Sandburg said. "And we'll still need time to share our information."
"It's going to take at least eight hours to get the asteroids falling on the planet," Sam said absently.
"We can have our operatives in place by then, as well," Jacob added.
"Okay," Jack said definitively, "then we break for now. I'll go sell this to Hammond and start preparing a list of weapons and supplies. I recommend the rest of you get some shut-eye in the meantime."
"Colonel O'Neill," Dr. Sandburg said before the others could obey orders. "A Ga'ould Lord doesn't go anywhere without a ribbon device. I'm going to need two of them and some micro tools to adapt them for human use. And the return of the crystals you took from me."
"You can do that?" Jack asked skeptically.
"I thought you had to have nacquada in your blood stream to use a ribbon device," Daniel blurted, noticing that Selmak had taken over Jacob and was listening very closely to their conversation.
"Not after a few modifications," Ellison said flatly, carefully not looking at the Tok'ra. "Afterwards, as a nice side-bonus, they're useless to the snake-heads."
"It works on healing devices, too," Dr. Sandburg said. "I'd like to teach Dr. Jackson how to use both, if you don't mind, which is why I want the second one."
"Perhaps I could help with the lesson," Selmak/Jacob volunteered unexpectedly.
"I don't think so," Dr. Sandburg said evenly, standing and deliberately putting his back to the Tok'ra, effectively dismissing him. "The technique is different for an un-possessed human." He said aside to Daniel, "If you're willing to learn, that is. You're the best choice, but I don't want you to think that you have to."
Before Jack could voice the protest everyone could see forming, Sandburg said to him, "Dr. Carter is going to be busy plotting asteroid courses, Teal'c will be standing guard to make sure it isn't a trick, and you would just get a headache."
"Just because my alternate couldn't do it," O'Neill argued anyway, "Doesn't mean I can't."
"You're going to have to sit still for at least forty-five minutes and concentrate on what the center of your chest feels like," Dr. Sandburg said, managing to hide his grin except for the sparkle in his eyes.
"I can do that." Jack thought a second longer. "I can." Another second passed. "Forty-five minutes?"
"Takes at least that long to sensitize yourself," Dr. Sandburg said helpfully.
"That's not so bad," Jack said firmly. "And it would be worth it to be able to knock some Ga'ould on his ass." He started to walk away, then asked, "Center of the chest?"
"The third chakra is there," Dr. Sandburg answered, studiously not smirking.
"Chakra?"
"Energy centers in the body," Dr. Sandburg said, taking on a lecturing tone. "Correlating to major nerve ganglia branching from the spinal column. Supposedly, they correlate additionally to levels of consciousness and...."
"I'll just go talk to Hammond," Jack said hastily. "Teal'c, you get those ribbon devices for them." He beat a quick retreat, giving everyone the freedom to snicker behind his back.
An hour later, Daniel made himself comfortable on the edge of the bed in Ellison's and Sandburg's quarters, not sure how or when this became the best place for the lesson, let alone whether or not he wanted to be the student. Hesitantly, he slipped the metal over his fingers and palm, trying not to shudder as a memory from the dream Shifu had given him filled his mind.
"Daniel," Dr. Sandburg said quietly, so as not to disturb Ellison working on the other device at the table on the other side of the room, Teal'c watching intently. "If you have any doubts about this at all, I'll teach Dr. Fraiser instead, or have Sam turn over her calculations to someone else."
"I know how to use this, Dr. Sandburg." Daniel turned his hand from back to front several times. "I can still feel the anger, no, the *fury* that fueled me, fueled the burst of hate from my hand."
"Blair," the other man corrected gently. "It feels waaaay too weird for you to call me that." He looked at Daniel quizzically. "Jim would know if you'd been Ga'ould; what happened?"
"A dream, vision - I'm not sure what you would call it. It was meant to teach me, and I'm still trying to absorb that particular lesson." He held up the ribbon device to study the new crystal in it. "And the only difference I can see or feel is this."
"It goes much, much deeper than that," Blair said. "A Ga'ould is basically nothing but a snake-shaped neural cluster. They hook into the base of the brain to become part of it; they have to in order to control the body. But that's the most primitive part of a human brain, the source of our pre-civilized impulses, our survival instincts. Rage, hatred, fear are born there, and so the Ga'ould only have those emotions to fuel the device."
"It works on emotional energy?" Daniel tried to fit that into his understanding of the technology.
"Call emotions the spark plug. But we've evolved past the reptile mind the Ga'ould use in their hosts. We have access to love, compassion, devotion - all the good stuff. When you use that for your sparkplug, you've got more control, can use the device more subtly, and, most importantly, don't have to worry about misusing the weapon. No losses from 'friendly' fire."
That sounded good to Daniel, almost too good to be believed, but Blair was wearing an earnest expression, as if he had had the same worries himself in the beginning. "Okay," Daniel said finally. "What do I do?"
"Have you ever meditated or used self-hypnosis?" Blair effortlessly drew his legs up into a lotus, stretching his arms over his head as if to limber up his spine.
"Never had the patience for it. You were serious when you told Jack about chakras?" Not bothering to hide his surprise, Daniel imitated the pose as much as he was able, though he crossed his ankles under himself, tailor-fashion.
"Actually, we just borrowed the terminology for the most part; it helped to have familiar referent. If you're not comfortable with that, the concept of 'chi' is a good one too." Eyes closed, Blair drew in a deep breath, then bent over his folded legs, arms behind him, still stretching.
Thinking furiously, Daniel said slowly, "Higher cerebral functions as opposed to autonomic and instinctive. Emphasizing the *human* aspects, mind versus brain."
"If you're faced with the extinction of your kind," Blair said, his sorrow showing through the peace that he'd been trying to achieve, "the question of what makes you human and unique becomes very important. And when you marry hard science with that, you make some astounding leaps of developmental progress."
"Mnemonic chains, meditative trance, emotion as a trigger for a technological device.... We've seen hints of this in the Nox and some other species." Trying to hide his doubt and knowing that the next step in most mental disciplines was to relax, Daniel did his best to do so, but couldn't help feeling silly.
"It's all right to feel silly," Blair said with a grin, reading his mind. "I was born and raised with this, man, and I've never seen a beginning student who wasn't self-conscious and worried about taking that New Age shit too seriously. The important thing is to get comfortable and admit the negative stuff. Once you do, you can let go of it and get beyond it." His grin widened. "Guess I should have some sitar music in the background when I say things like that, huh?"
Despite it all, Daniel smiled. "We were good friends, weren't we, Blair?" A split second later, he wished he could call back the question; the other man's merriment dimmed considerably.
"If it weren't for you," Blair said quietly, "I wouldn't have met Jim. Your paper on the Chopec social hierarchy led me to you, then you introduced us."
"I never wrote that paper, though I remember making some notes on it when I spoke to the James Ellison in this universe." His curiosity was too much for him and he asked, "Did I abandon my theory that the pyramids were built by alien technology?"
"Uh, no." Blair looked uneasy. "How much do you want to know about your counterpart, really, Daniel?"
In his mind's eye, he saw Ellison's compassion for Jack and his own vow not to ask. "Never mind. So, I close my eyes, control my breathing and recite a mantra to get the ribbon device to work. Not much use as a weapon, then. Too time consuming to operate."
"No mantra required," Blair said easily. "Like I told Jack, the first step is sensitizing you to how it's supposed to feel. After a while, it comes naturally, like learning to type or play the piano."
Getting back to business, he leaned forward enough to put three fingers over Daniel's solar plexus. "Close your eyes and concentrate on my touch, the exact spot where my hand is. Try to make the feeling three-dimensional in your head, see it like a glowing sphere resting between us, but penetrating into your skin, too. If something breaks your concentration, just let it, and go back to visualizing the energy."
"And when I've done that?" Daniel asked, trying to shove down everything and just listen to him.
"Then we move it from your center through your body, but first things first. Concentrate."
The odd thing was, that, after a while, he *could* feel a small globular something pressing into him, warm and slightly vibrating, like a chiming ball. It was nice, very nice, soothing and calming, and a distant part of him worried about that enough that he drew away from Blair, breaking contact. "That was weird."
"Not unpleasant?"
The question was serious, and Daniel realized that his reaction hadn't been unexpected. "No, just... I was thinking it was going to be a metaphorical thing. That felt real."
"It is," Blair said very seriously. "Direct stimulation of your nerves using that 'spark' that fuels the ribbon device. It wouldn't work if it weren't a very measurable, tangible thing, Daniel. If Janet had us hooked up to monitors, she would be able to pinpoint the neural activity. And yes, all humans are capable of it to a greater degree or less, but, again, like playing a piano, it takes time and inclination to be able to learn to do it. That and the belief it can be done."
"So why do the Ga'ould need the nacquada to do it?" Daniel asked, taking another look at the changed crystal nestled in the palm of his hand.
"They don't." Blair's tone was very matter-of-fact. "Jim's by-passing the circuits that disable the device if the nacquada isn't present. They need us; a human mind."
Daniel's head shot up at the simple statement, and Teal'c turned toward them. "Are the Tok'ra aware of this?" the warrior asked imperiously.
"Not in our universe, nor in yours, I think," Ellison said distractedly. "Otherwise, Selmak would have been screaming to high heaven when he heard Blair ask for a device to modify. Like you, he probably thinks it's the tool and not the user."
"We think that the Ga'ould don't want admit to themselves why they use human hosts," Blair added. "It would make them lesser than us. So they hide the fact that they steal their technology, their knowledge, even from themselves; it's all rote and genetic memories for them, not true understanding. Why do you think the Tok'ra keep coming to SGC for research help? We're their source of original thinking, intuition, genius.
"Anyway, whoever originally designed the devices may have needed the nacquada trigger for their own purposes which we can't even begin to imagine, and the Ga'ould left it that way because it was useful to them as well."
"Do you understand it?" Daniel asked, for the first time beginning to fathom just how much their guests had to offer them.
"Me? No," Blair answered cheerfully. "But the Sams did, and personally gave the key to it to me to share. Which brings us back to proving ourselves to the President so we can do exactly that. Which means, concentrate, Dr. Jackson, concentrate!"
An hour later, Daniel collapsed backwards on the bed, panting, tee shirt stuck to his body with sweat, and willing to swear that he'd just fought off an entire cadre of Jaffa single-handedly. All he'd actually accomplished was to move a pen three inches, using the ribbon device. Still, he was satisfied. The whole process had all but erased the nasty taste that his vision of slamming Jack into a wall had left in his mind.
Tossing a blanket over him, Blair said, "Rest here for a while. You have the basic technique now; the rest is practice. Now, at least, if something happens to me, I've been able to leave this much behind."
"Is that why you insisted?" Daniel mumbled sleepily. "Your own personal legacy?" There was no answer, and broad fingers that he happily recognized removed his glasses. He nuzzled into a huge, calloused palm, not really hearing Blair's answer. Through a muffling fog, he heard Jim and Blair tell Teal'c they were going to take a shower and get a bite to eat before sleeping, then the door closed. He drifted, not quite asleep, but too exhausted to call himself awake, either, vaguely aware of Teal'c kneeling on the floor beside the bed.
That didn't seem quite right, for some reason, and Daniel pried up a heavy eyelid to tell him to go get some rest, himself. The sight of Teal'c, eyes closed, expression serene as if he had nothing better in the universe than to wait by his side, was Daniel's undoing. Clumsily, he reached out and traced an elegant eyebrow, fingers shaking from the effort. He was rewarded by dark eyes opening to meet his, and as he watched, they warmed with desire and another emotion he was afraid to name.
Cupping Teal'c's jaw, Daniel ran a thumb over ripe lips, wanting very much to taste them, but unable to muster the will to move from where he lay. As if reading his mind, or perhaps because he needed the same thing, Teal'c caught and held the hand on his face, turning his head to kiss the palm. It burned like a fiery coal, not with pain, but with pleasure that coursed from the source all the way into Daniel's middle, and he cried out softly from it.
"Daniel..." His voice had a note of warning in it, but Teal'c didn't pull away.
"Please." It wasn't what he meant to say, what he needed to say about not missing what opportunities they had because the Ga'ould could take away all of them tomorrow. It would have to do, though, because he couldn't find another word that could convey as much. "*Please.*"
The want in the velvet gaze intensified, and Teal'c pressed a kiss into Daniel's flesh, this time at the wrist. A shiver both felt resulted, and another hungry noise that pleaded for an unknown something escaped. Careful fingers turned Daniel's arm, bringing up the inside of an elbow for a soft touch of lips, and this time he held in his cry, afraid that it would be too loud. Then those same fingers gingerly dragged up a sleeve to bare a shoulder, and knowing that yet another kiss would follow, Daniel found the strength to roll toward his lover, free arm out-stretched. Capturing and cradling the back of the dear head, he urged Teal'c to aim higher, then whimpered when his mouth was taken.
Opening immediately to his lover's plundering, Daniel felt the mattress shift as Teal'c climbed onto the bed, and knew one insane moment of pure panic at what was about to happen. Teal'c shoved away the blanket and settled over him, his weight pinning Daniel flat, and his fear cranked up another notch. Then a nearly sobbing sigh was breathed into him, forever dissipating any worries he might have about his lover's greater size and strength. And the solid mass of him was so good on Daniel's aching body, strangely satisfying for the tight points on his chest and the straining erection trapped between them.
Uncertain what to do next, too physically weary to think, let alone initiate a new level of love-making, Daniel waited to see what Teal'c would do, willing to go along with whatever he wanted. The lips devouring his own grew more and more demanding, hard-on drilling into his abdomen, as if his very passiveness was arousing to his companion. Because of that, when Teal'c pulled his shirt off over his head, Daniel let his arms fall limply from the fabric, leaving them slightly akimbo on the pillow.
It left him open and vulnerable from throat to waist, and Teal'c showed his approval by sitting up astride Daniel's hips, huge hands slowly mapping that defenseless terrain. Long before rough thumb tips skimmed over his nipples, he was writhing under the commanding power of those hands, panting harshly to keep from begging and babbling at the top of his lungs. Then the taut nubs were given attention, and his back bowed to shove the tender bits into Teal'c's care, hardly caring what was done to them as long as they were well loved.
Eventually the surprisingly nimble fingers wandered south for his belt, and Daniel moaned, "...scream... need to... damn... Teal'c... scream..."
Amazingly, his lover understood, and he stripped his own shirt off and wadded a corner of it for Daniel to bite. A moment later, his pants were undone, his cock was freed, and that was all that he could take. Dimly grateful for the fabric absorbing what had to be an ear-splitting bellow, he came, the hard spurts of his seed leaving his body firing ecstasy over every nerve. An eternity later, the last ripples of joy faded, leaving him too weak to do anything but stare up at Teal'c in amazement as his makeshift gag was removed.
With a smug smile, Teal'c bent and began to lap away the wetness on Daniel's stomach, working himself urgently in search of his own finish. Much as he wanted to help, all Daniel could do was watch, but that seemed to be enough for Teal'c. Murmuring Daniel's name, he straightened to show off his erection, his action on himself, eyes fixed on Daniel's lips as if hungry for their submission again.
"Yes," Daniel whispered, and that was the trigger his lover sought. Though no sound left him, his chest quaked with a held-in shout of completion, and a small stream bubbled over his fist. For all that it was a small amount of liquid, it must have been a tremendous release. Teal'c's eyes rolled up, and he threw his head back, the tendons on his neck standing out in stark relief.
Collapsing slowly, Teal'c stiffened one arm to brace himself before he could crush Daniel. He reached for the nightstand, presumably for the box of tissues there, but Daniel caught his wrist, and brought it to his mouth to lick it clean, eyes never leaving his lover's. It was an odd taste, not at all like what he'd found on the lips of lovers who had pleasured him before kissing him. But not a bad taste, and he admitted with a shy smile that he wouldn't mind taking it from the source.
Understanding that, Teal'c smiled the most open and gentle smile Daniel had ever seen gracing the strong features, then lay beside him. "Perhaps Colonel Ellison and his companion will gift us with another opportunity for privacy before we embark on this morning's mission."
"We may not give them a choice." Daniel yawned broadly and shifted enough to fit himself perfectly alongside his lover. "They're going to have to sleep someplace else. I don't think I can move."
"I believe they may have anticipated that." Holding up a small packet so that it could be read, he asked, "Is this what I believe it to be?"
"Concentrated Astrolube," Daniel murmured, trying not to smile. "No, it's exactly what you think it is; save it. You never can tell when we'll get a chance to use it." He yawned again, and repeated himself as he drifted away, "You never can tell."
He was going to kill someone, Jim decided bitterly. At the moment he didn't particularly care who, though he had a certain Ga'ould, Akenu, who ran Agaeis Prime, in his sights. One of the Jaffa guarding him would do, though. Or the so-called humans who served Apophis, knowing full well he was just a parasite with access to superior technology. He was never going to be able to understand capos like that, no matter how many times his mate tried to explain them to him.
The unreasoning rage he felt wasn't new to Jim; he'd done cov-op too many times not to be sickeningly familiar with it. Incacha had warned him long ago that a sentinel could not abide the presence of a false god without the 'fury of the true Earth Spirits' filling him. Which was probably why the Ga'ould had tried so determinedly to root out the entire genetic pattern, along with the one for psychic abilities, he thought, shifting fractionally to ease his aching knees.
It was just that he'd never been so damned miserable while trying to cope with the imperative to eliminate Ga'ould. The wound from the trizatas now covered most of the surface of his back like an oozing, blistering sunburn, and the nagging pain of it was eating at his control. Not to mention that and the deeper cellular damage was eroding his strength, not that he had much left after two more temporal distortion episodes. Mercifully, the first had been before they left SGC, and the second had been while he and the rest of the team were alone, more or less, as had the one Blair had suffered through.
In fact, both of them should have been much, much weaker, causing his mate to speculate that their alternates in this universe were somehow leaking strength into them, though that had never happened before. Probably, Jim decided sourly, because they were obviously in the honeymoon stage of their relationship, minds and emotions all over the place, and that was the true crux of his problem. As weak, tired, and hurting as he was, he also had a hard-on that wouldn't go away, even when he imagined a Ga'ould noticing and drooling over it.
It didn't help that Blair had seldom looked more erotic.
With a black Egyptian style wig covering his auburn curls and kohl outlining his eyes, he was epitome of a beautiful, ancient god with only his full lips promising human tenderness. A wide gold collar and matching belt slung low on his hips left his torso completely bare, and the sheer linen panels that hung from the belt didn't leave much to the imagination. Wide, jeweled bracelets emphasized Blair's strong hands, somehow negating the implied threat of the ribbon device, and the flashes of light from the gems as they swooped and glided through the air from his mate's normal expansive gestures kept threatening to pull Jim into a zone.
Blair looked exotic, compelling, and delicious, but was completely, totally untouchable because of the mission. Despite that, Jim kept fantasizing about wrapping a hand around the slim ankle just above the straps for the gold sandals and sliding his hand up a strong, lean leg. He could almost see his fingers moving under the bare concealment of the translucent cloth until he reached the semi-hard cock that he could see and smell under the heavier loincloth that covered Blair's groin. Mentally groaning, he resisted the urge to adjust his own erection, and shifted his stance again, instead, putting one hand on the floor.
On some level, Blair had to know Jim was having trouble controlling his rage; he had the leading end of the supposed choke chain wound tightly around his fist, pulling Jim into a semi-crouch. It was probably a good thing. The discomfort of keeping his balance was distracting and the position hid the hard-on that threatened to break free of the breechcloth that was his only garment.
It also added to the illusion of captivity that they wanted to create, which, so far, everyone had bought without question. Of course, the assorted scars from past missions and new bruises that Blair had carefully, painlessly created with the ribbon device, helped there. He didn't have to listen with sentinel ears, though, to know that the slowly decaying tissues on his back were the most convincing evidence.
Teal'c was having a much harder time of it. Even the most arrogant and self-confident of the Ga'ould gave him a wide berth or personally double-checked his chains, as if unable to believe that he wouldn't simply shrug them off and viciously attack. And each and every last one of them had to add their own stamp of cruelty to the false bruises and cuts, as if it disproved that fear, despite doing it under the careful scrutiny of their personal guards. It got to the point that 'Klorel' had had to say dryly and pointedly that Apophis might not appreciate having his plaything dirtied up too much before he'd had the opportunity to indulge himself.
That stopped the worse of the abuse, but Ga'ould are literally born knowing a thousand and one petty ways to make someone suffer. Teal'c simply endured it all, from the spit in his face to the long, shallow cuts from expertly wielded knives. Almost against his will, Jim accepted that Jack had been right to have this particular Jaffar join SG1. The man was dignity and honor embodied, and the rest of the team's devotion to him was obviously born from the kind of bond that forms when you know a teammate will die for you.
It didn't hurt that Teal'c had Daniel's scent all over him, now, easing Jim's instinctive response. Or that, even when blood was slowly dripping from an open wound, the Jaffar's first act during the team's rare private moments to discreetly make sure that Daniel was handling their situation. Which he was, as well as could be expected; O'Neill was the one who was nearly as murderous as Jim felt. It gave the sentinel the feeling that this copy of his old friend was beginning to get an idea that he had missed out on something, *someone,* that could have been important in his life.
As it was, he'd seen Teal'c hold back his teammate with a carefully guarded glare when Jim had been sure that Jack was just going to snap and kill the next Ga'ould that walked through the door. If he broke, Jim didn't see how he was going to be able to hold back himself, then all hell would break loose before its scheduled time.
Thankfully, a faint tremor underfoot told Jim that neither of them had much longer to wait. Selmak and Sam had arranged for four relatively minor asteroids to fall, then an hour later the big one would drop on the shipyard. In their pre-arranged signal, he pretended to collapse, realistically struggling to breath against the pull of the choke collar.
Blair tossed Daniel the chain and snapped, "See to this filth. And get that traitor out of my sight for a while; it sickens me." With Jack in tow, he stomped off, dragging Akenu, the Ga'ould supervisor of the shipyard and mine, along with him by simply assuming that he would go wherever 'Klorel' went. The last thing Jim heard was his mate chewing out the hapless supervisor for wasting the miner's labor by not putting them to work on whatever menial chores needed doing at the ship works. As if he hadn't earlier torn Akenu a new one for wasting miners by allowing them to work while the ground quakes were closing down mineshafts and tunnels.
Once they were out of sight, Daniel dropped the helmet armor, and rubbed at his nose, which didn't stop the immediate sneeze. "Sorry," he muttered. He led the way into a small anteroom where they were supposed to meet Reuel, the spokesman for the dissidents on Agaeis Prime. As soon as they were safely hidden from prying eyes, he undid the chains on Teal'c, throwing them aside violently. "I never, ever want to do this again," he said in disgust.
"It is too useful a tool to discard simply because it is distasteful," Teal'c said firmly.
Reaching up for the hidden catch on his chain, Jim said, "It's almost over. Right now Sandburg is being given a tour of the automated defenses, and, trust me, by the time he's through with them, they wouldn't operate again if rebuilt from scratch. The great thing is, no one will know until they're needed, because it's a worm program that doesn't go into effect until the machines are activated."
"The more complex the machinery, the easier it is to throw a monkey wrench into the works," Daniel quoted.
"It's what the snake heads get for taking their technology instead of learning it." Jim stretched high on his toes, fingertips reaching for the ceiling, trying to get the kinks out of his legs and back. He was going to need as much strength and mobility as he could muster; at the moment he wasn't sure that he could walk back to the Star Gate, let alone run. Furtive footsteps in the access hall caught his attention, and he nodded at Daniel, stepping back to one side of the door to be out of sight.
Reuel slid over the threshold, almost jolting a laugh from Jim. The human overseer had an unfortunate resemblance to Gandhi, and seeing him sneak, elderly dignity flustered but intact, struck Jim's admittedly odd funny bone. His usual control kept the momentary amusement hidden so as not to insult their ally, and he focused his attention on the area around them, guarding while Daniel and Teal'c conferred with the rebel.
"As you said it would, the ground trembles again," Reuel said, seating himself on the ground with the two members of SG1. "And none of my people were hurt, again, just as you said."
"Even now the miners are being transported to the docks," Teal'c said, his vibrant voice making the words a promise. "If their courage holds, all will be free of this place within the hour."
Scraping a bony hand over a baldhead, Reuel said gruffly, the rapid beat of his pulse loud in Jim's ears, "My heart wishes to believe that. But I have stood between the gods and my people for so long, doing what I can to see to the comfort and safety of the later while not rousing the first - it seems unbelievable that the task is nearly done."
"If you had not had the strength to be the guardian that you were, this chance could have never come, Reuel." Daniel leaned forward, daring to touch the frail shoulder, his earnest intent clear in the gentle gesture. "You convinced the false ones to consider the workers valued, not just mindless slaves. Small as the concessions were, they were enough to give your people hope, and keep them at peace until the time to fight was right. If there were more Jaffa here, if the barracks and shops were more closely monitored, leaving as you will do shortly would be impossible."
Taking a deep breath, the ancient man asked, "What would you have us do?"
"Get everyone to the ship on whatever pretense you can think of, as quickly as you can," Daniel said. "Don't worry about the false ones looking for you. They're going to have bigger problems to deal with than a missing servant or two. You don't need to worry about the guards, either; they'll be taken care of. Once you're on board, a woman named Samantha Carter will pilot the ship off this world to another one where you can live without fear of Apophis or his kind."
"The ship is not ready," Reuel gasped, fear returning full force, the stench of it hitting Jim's nose before he could filter it out. "We will die."
"You will not." Teal'c's tone brooked no argument. "You are not going into battle, nor must you survive for more than a few hours on the air and warmth readily available. The engines and shields are functional; that is all that matters."
"More importantly," Daniel put in, "If you don't leave while you can, you will die anyway. Apophis' enemies will not allow this base to exist. Do you understand? Even if we fail to destroy it today, the secret of it is known; another enemy will succeed sooner or later."
"You do not soften the truth at all, do you?" Reuel said bitterly. "But you speak only what all on Agaeis Prime know in their hearts: that death will come for them sooner or later for no other reason than because the false ones cherish nothing but power."
His demeanor changed, becoming the patriarch that Jim had seen obliquely, politely approach Teal'c the first time the SG1 team had been left alone. Apparently, he had been lured in by the fact that Teal'c was obviously *not* being guarded, but rather protected by the 'Jaffa' accompanying him. It had been a risky ploy to gain trust, but at the moment, it was plain that it had been worth it. "Very well," Reuel said calmly. "We know the areas of the ship that can support life; we will gather there and await our fate."
Standing, Teal'c carefully helped the rebel to his feet, then regally inclined his head. "Your trust is not misplaced, Reuel, though I have only my word on that."
A thin finger ran along the outer rim of the golden brand. "This marks you as my enemy." Then a long cut along a broad biceps was mapped out in the air. "But the hate behind this marks you as my hope made live. Your word is enough." Reuel turned away, paused at the door until Jim motioned that the way was clear, then left as quickly as old bones would carry him.
Keeping his post by the door, Jim said after he'd gone, "You're sure the Jaffa won't try to stop any of them from getting out of here?"
"As long as they do not become furtive and arouse suspicion. To a Jaffar, servants and their comings and goings are beneath notice." Teal'c didn't look away from where Daniel's slender fingers were smearing salve into the newest cut on his chest.
Hiding a small smile, Jim thought to himself that it wasn't stoicism hiding any pain to the attention. Teal'c probably didn't feel a thing except the tenderness from his lover's touch. Another faint rumbling tickled the soles of his feet, and the hint of humor died. "I hope they have time," he said, nearly to himself. "The smaller asteroids that shepherd a large one are beginning to hit, like Sam warned us they would. It won't be much longer before somebody notices there's a continent-sized problem looming down on them."
"We'd better start getting ready then," Daniel said reluctantly, twisting the cap back onto the small tube in his hand. "If we're right, things are going to get very confusing in very short order. I just wish we'd been able to find a few Jaffa to side with us so we'd be sure that the Ga'ould don't try to take the ship themselves."
"They will not," Teal'c said confidently, reaching for the shackles himself, apparently to spare Daniel from having to deal with them. "It is not armed yet, and no Ga'ould would think a ship space worthy if it cannot defend itself. When they become aware of their danger, they will turn to the Star Gate for escape, first. We must be ready."
"That blind spot is going to be the death of them," Jim muttered. Then, because it had to be said before battle could forever silence it, he admitted gruffly, "And for all the years I've fought the Ga'ould, I didn't know about it. Sandburg was right, Teal'c. Having you as part of SG1 may be the saving of this Earth. I know you're in it to free your own people, but that doesn't change the good you're doing for us."
"Then why did you refuse to try to recruit the few Jaffa that did approach us?" Daniel said tightly.
"They were not sincere," Teal'c answered for Jim. "Though they tried to conceal it, their contempt is too deep to be hidden."
"This whole base is a vulnerable spot for Apophis," Jim added. "Makes sense that only his most loyal men would be here. I know that you're just trying to save lives, Daniel, but they are soldiers, and by choice. Sometimes it's the job of a soldier to die."
Daniel looked ready to argue, but Jim heard voices raised in anger and fear, coming from a distance but rapidly approaching. Bracing himself, he released his shaky control over his senses and *reached,* locking onto Blair's voice almost instantly, despite the distortion in it.
"...is not my concern!" his mate was saying in the deep, echoing bass of a Ga'ould. "Such carelessness borders on insolence, and will not be forgotten."
"My Lord," Akenu said placatingly, desperation threaded through it, "It is a simple malfunction, readily repaired! An evacuation would merely be a precaution."
"One which *I* will take. It is not my place to set aside my father's wishes, and he has been very clear that no one leaves here without his permission."
The emphasis on the 'I' was not lost on the supervisor or the gaggle of his Ga'ould staff clustered around them, and he began to all but babble excuses and pleas.
"Heads up; it's show time again," Jim said wearily, dragging himself back from the conversation in time to see Teal'c gently brush a fingertip over Daniel's cheek - apparently the closing statement of the discussion that had gone on without him while he'd been listening in on Blair. Distantly, he wondered what he'd missed, but the grudging acceptance in the linguist's expression was really all he needed. Then his face was hidden by the helmet as it raised again.
Jim snatched up the choke chain, this time fastening it so that it would break away at the slightest tug, watching from the corner of an eye as Teal'c's shackles were similarly attached. It bothered him that both of them were unarmed, but if things got nasty, it wouldn't take them long to rectify that. One nice thing about being a beaten 'slave;' no Jaffar would worry about danger from him until it was too late.
A moment later Blair swept by, gathering Daniel and his 'captives' with a grand gesture. "This facility," he said coldly to Akenu, "was declared to be secure. By you, I might add. If you do not have the confidence in your own decision to remain behind, that is unfortunate, but it is a singularly effective way to insure that you will be punished if you are in error."
"My Lord!" Akenu cried, both in outrage and true fear. He pointed a shaking finger at Teal'c, who was being 'dragged' along by Jack. "You will take that, that, *shol'va* with you to safety but leave loyal, devoted followers behind?"
By now they were almost at the Star Gate, and Jim could hear that the other three Ga'ould of Akenu's staff were muttering similar objections, and see that the Jaffa were nervously shifting their staffs. He gave a subtle tug on his chain to warn Daniel that the natives were getting restless, noting that Teal'c was already watching alertly from under lowered lashes.
"Do you really wish to suffer the same deaths waiting for these two?" Blair said with silken threat. "I would think that the asteroid would be a preferable fate."
Akenu paled and his protests ended until they were at the Gate itself. It wasn't until Blair stepped up to the DHD that his nerve broke, and he pulled a zat gun from under his robes. Before he could fire, Jack shot the weapon out of his hand, then the situation dissolved into chaos. Most of the Jaffa, surprisingly enough, tried to defend 'Klorel,' but the Ga'ould overseers were behind them. Several Jaffa, apparently siding with the parasite's innate drive to survive, turned on their fellow warriors.
Seconds later, the only soldiers still standing were SG1, and they stood with their backs to the Gate, picking off anyone who tried to fire on Blair. Every shot that had gotten through that screen during the first few moments of the battle had been reflected by his personal shield, and he imperturbably punched in the 'glyphs for the planet that their base camp was on. Seeing that, Akenu and the remaining Ga'ould dropped the staffs they had taken from fallen Jaffa, and rushed the podium, trusting their own shields to protect them from weapon fire.
The look on their faces when he and Teal'c personally took them out with well-directed punches was a pleasure that Jim knew he'd appreciate for the rest of his life. As Akenu fell, Jim heard the ship blast away, and motioned to the now open Gate. "Go, go! We'll cover!"
Without hesitation, SG1 went through at top speed as Blair ran for the Gate himself. As soon as he was past, Jim blasted the DHD. There was no way anyone would be able to jury-rig a repair or manually dial the Gate before the planet shook itself apart from the cataclysmic collision about to befall it. They ran through the event horizon together, Blair flinging out a hand to command it to collapse behind them.
Then they were on the other side of the Gate, trying to slow their headlong rush before they crashed into the troops in position to prevent anyone besides SG1 from coming through. Both men from the alternity whirled to defend against anyone following them, but the Gate was closed, and Jim planted his staff upright on the steps, leaning on it heavily.
Behind him he heard O'Neill bark, "Stand down, but stay on your toes. If anybody but Major and General Carter come through that Gate, blast them!" There was a chorus of 'yes sirs,' then Jack stomped over. "We've got a couple of hours before Sam and company get here. I'm going to go get out of this tin can; there's gotta be a gallon of sweat in the boots alone."
"Getting back into uniform sounds good to me," Jim agreed absently. He had eyes only for Blair who was angrily ripping the ribbon device off his arm. "I'm going to hit the showers while it's still standing. Coming, Sandburg?"
"No, I want to give Daniel a lesson with the healing device, help Teal'c with those cuts." His mate sounded remote, disconnected, and Jim stifled the urge to gather him into a hug to help him through the letdown from the fight. Years of experience told him that Blair wasn't ready for that, yet, so Jim reluctantly headed off to clean up.
When he stepped out of the shower, hair damp, earring comfortably back in place, bare back bitching seriously at him, but feeling better for all that, the base camp had been reduced to a stack of supplies on M.A.L.P. buggies. He nodded in satisfaction. Maybe they were using both belt and suspenders by staging the assault on Agaeis Prime from here, but this way there was no chance that the Tau'ri would be connected to its loss. All the trails would lead back to this insignificant, barely alive world.
He made his way to the one other tent left standing, passing Teal'c who was going the way Jim had come. They nodded at each other in passing, and he noticed that the Jaffar looked good as new. Willing to bet that Daniel hadn't had any trouble with the lesson on the healing device, Jim wasn't surprised to find the linguist sound asleep on a bunk. Blair was carefully, methodically removing the rest of the costume he wore and repacking it into the special containers to return it to the museum it had been borrowed from.
From the way he held himself, Jim guessed that teaching had gone a long way to restoring Blair to himself. Not quite enough, though, to guess from the way he was handling the antiques - as if they were contaminated. Moving cautiously, Jim came up behind him and helped close the last case, then took his mate by the shoulders and turned Blair to face him. With the damp washcloth he had brought from the shower, he wiped away the makeup, not surprised when a few tears warmed the wetness in the fabric.
When that was done, Jim went nose to nose with his spouse, foreheads bumping. 'I hurt with you,' the touch said.
Blair locked his hands behind Jim's neck. "So many lives lost," he murmured.
"So many saved. And you know perfectly well that more than one of the hosts would have chosen to end their torment rather than go on."
Nodding at the truth in that, but still grieving too much for it to be a comfort, Blair broke away. "I want to wash the filth of being Klorel off me; think we've got time before the others get here?"
"Sam won't mind waiting if you don't; go on. I'm going to take a bunk next to Daniel's and catch some shut eye." The look Blair slanted him said that he'd believe that when he came back and found Jim asleep, but with a last squeeze on his mate's arm, he left. He had to go past Jack who was hovering uncertainly in the doorway, and the colonel pivoted to watch his progress to the showers.
"Still guarding, Jack?" Jim asked, wondering what was on the man's mind.
"Gets to be a habit," O'Neill said distractedly. When he turned back, eyes on the floor, he admitted, "I have problems imagining a universe where the military takes married behavior between male soldiers for granted."
"I have trouble imaging one where it's not," Jim confessed in return. "I mean, why waste your breeders by sending them to die in war?"
Jack sat heavily on the cot opposite Daniel's, mouth open. It took him a minute to regain his composure, then he said quietly, "That's the first thing you've said or done since you got here that really, truly makes me believe you're who you say you are." He thought for a second more, then asked, "Does this mean that everybody in the military is gay?"
"We call them naturals, as in natural-born soldiers," Jim said. "No, of course not, but the majority is. And our earth didn't have problems with spouses fighting together in a team as long as they proved they could obey orders, no matter what their personal stake in a mission is. I've been around your people long enough to see that you're contrary in that, too."
"Was, I, ah... I mean, Sara, Charlie...."
"You were married to her in our world, too. Charlie died? Gun accident?" Jim asked.
"Yeah." Jack rubbed a hand over his hair. "Yeah. You know, no matter how many times I run into this mirror thing, it's still freaky to think of a million 'me's, all making the same stupid mistakes."
"There's a million 'yous' where you didn't make those particular mistakes." Jim sat on the cot nearest Daniel's, unintentionally putting the linguist between them. "If there isn't enough common ground between your world and their's, the mirror can't connect. And the you that exists here is part and parcel of why your Earth isn't a cinder; you've kicked some serious Ga'ould butt here."
"All because I didn't blow Abydos up and Daniel married Sha'uri," Jack said reflectively.
"Married Sha'uri? Amonhet's host?" Jim asked, startled. "But...." He shut his mouth over the rest of it, not sure he should talk about his dead commander's life.
"He didn't in your world? Marry Sha'uri?" Speaking very slowly, as if that idea was even more radical than married gay men in the armed services, Jack asked, "If he didn't stay on Abydos, what did he do after we destroyed Ra? Join up? Is that how he became part of your SG1?"
"Went back to Earth and, uh, married the soldier that he came back for," Jim said cautiously. "Wrote a bunch of papers about a lot of different things, including some stuff he learned from me at the request of his PhD advisor. When Apophis crashed through the mothballed Gate, Hammond called the two of you back in, and you went back to Abydos. Skaara had dug the Gate back up because he'd found something he thought you had to see. Daniel took one look and guessed that he was looking at the addresses for an entire Gate system."
"Yeah, my Daniel, I mean, this Daniel, I mean... Damn, this kind of conversation can get confusing!" Jack swung his feet up and lay down, determinedly closing his eyes. "Forget it. You've got the right idea; catch some 'z's until we clear off this rock." He rolled up an eyelid. "Want me to bandage that back of yours or something until Sandburg can use the healing device on it? That's gotta hurt; looks like you're melting or something."
Jim lay down on his side and admitted tiredly, "Pretty close. And it can't be helped with Ga'ould technology, even the stuff we adapted. The cellular degradation was caused by it."
"Huh?" Jack grunted, obviously nodding off.
Despite that, Jim decided to answer him anyway. "You know how you can't use radiation to kill a cancer caused by radiation? Same thing. The weapon that caused it was a perversion of the healing device so one can't be used to repair the damage. And we don't have any human medical techniques that work on it."
Jack's only comment to that was a raucous snore, and Jim snorted into his pillow. Best way to deal with O'Neill was always to give him too much information. Then Jim froze in place; his senses told him Daniel was awake, though he was acting as though he wasn't. Respecting the pretense, for whatever reasons he had, Jim didn't comment, but instead relaxed and let himself drift toward the edge of a zone to escape the misery of his back.
Never quite making it, he stirred restlessly when Blair came back into the tent, but waited where he was until his spouse sat in lotus beside the cot. With a fingertip touch so light only his sentinel could have felt it, Blair stroked his right arm for no other reason than to give and receive comfort. When he reached the marriage bracelet, he kissed it gently - worth it always, beloved - not retreating from the fact that there was barely a thumb's width of untarnished metal left.
Jim shivered. The desire that had never quite faded leaped high, and he could tell that Blair felt it as well. This wasn't the time or the place, though, and he contented himself with simply cherishing his spouse with eyes and heart until he heard and felt the Gate power up. With a light tug at one of Blair's curls to alert him to it, Jim painfully sat up and shook Daniel by one shoulder to wake him. "Off world activation," he explained.
As Daniel sat up, taking his glasses from a pocket, he reached for Jack, giving him a careful shove.
"Wha?" O'Neill mumbled.
"Company," Daniel said, sounding a little groggy, but he was on his feet and moving, helping Blair pick up the museum-bound packages.
"Better be Carter," Jack grumbled, but he got up and picked up his own kit, taking a fast look around the small tent to make sure there was nothing being left behind to get lost when it was packed up. A moment later, the four of them were on their way to the Gate, O'Neill throwing a casual salute to the marine trotting their way. "I know; activation."
The soldier's slightly agog reaction to the statement won a small smile from Blair and Daniel; like Jim, Jack pretended it was perfectly normal for a commander to know everything. That made Jim wonder how O'Neill explained to himself where the information was coming from. It had been so long since he had had to hide what he was and what he could do, that he kept slipping.
With a mental shrug, he decided it didn't matter. Everyone could rationalize it any way they wanted; only Teal'c was likely to hit on the right answer. Jim looked ahead to where the Jaffar was waiting, staff leveled at the Stargate, unsurprised that SG1 was approaching before the marine could have had time to fetch them. Maybe Teal'c already knew, and, along with the effect a trizatas had on a human, was keeping the information to himself for whatever reason.
Too weary to care if that was good or bad, Jim turned his attention to the Gate just as the seventh chevron locked. A moment later, Sam popped through, her father on her heels, looking very pleased with herself. "Target destroyed," she reported professionally, with just a hint of a smile quirking her lips. "All civilian personnel relocated without incident."
"Good work, Carter. You make arrangements for us to be able to check in on them later, make sure they're settling okay?" Jack was practically glowing with smugness, in direct contrast to Jacob Carter, who looked as if he'd deep-throated a zucchini. A large zucchini, Jim decided.
"Yes, sir. And thank you. Oh, and, get this. The reason why the ship was behind construction schedule..."
"Which had Akenu groveling before Dr. Sandburg had to open his mouth once to explain 'Klorel's' arrival," O'Neill interrupted happily.
"...was because there were *two* full compliments of death gliders on board!" Samantha didn't seem at all put out by her commander's sidebar.
"Good; I'm sure the Tok'ra will put them to good use," Jack said magnanimously, obviously startling the hell out of the elder Carter. It prompted him to add, "You were right; we should have learned our lesson when a Ga'ould engine hi-jacked us."
To Jim's eyes, Jacob looked even more sour, but all he said was, "Took you long enough to appreciate that."
"You know, some of us can't afford to think of things in terms of centuries of stealth, sabotage, and behind the scenes manipulation," Jack countered in a surprisingly level tone of voice. "How many died or were enslaved while the Tok'ra waged their long-term campaigns?"
Not bothering to answer that, Jacob gave his daughter a fast hug and went to the DHD to begin dialing as she headed toward Jack. "I need to report to the Council," he said shortly.
The faint rumble of bass underlying the words was the only warning Jim had that Selmak was in charge, and, alarmed for no specific reason, he eased his way closer to the Tok'ra. Automatically checking Blair and Daniel's location, he scowled to himself. They were on the side of the Gate closest to Selmak, backs to him, bending over the museum cartons.
Jack seemed to sense something was wrong as well. Frowning, he said, "No hurry; they're going to want a full report on the stuff Sandburg has for us."
"That can be done at a later time," Selmak/Jacob said expressionlessly.
With another protest on his lips, Jack took a step closer just as the Gate opened. The moment the rush of power settled back into the nacquada circle, the Tok'ra ran, not for the Gate, but for Blair, the ribbon device on his hand already flaring. Shouting a useless warning, Jim raced toward his spouse, O'Neill and Sam arrowing in from another angle, neither of them close enough to stop Selmak. Both Daniel and Blair pivoted from their task at Jim's yell, Blair's hand going up in automatic defense. Scooping up a box, Daniel hurled it at the oncoming Tok'ra, and a moment later was strong-armed off the dais for his troubles.
From the corner of his eye, Jim could see Teal'c was taking position in front of the Gate itself, his intent to prevent passage clear. Then Jim forgot him, forgot the exhaustion of his body, forgot everything but wringing enough speed out of his muscles to get to his mate before it was too late and the Tok'ra succeeded in kidnapping him.
Blow from his ribbon device deflected, Selmak resorted to brute strength and swept Blair into a bear hug, literally taking him off his feet and carrying him toward the Gate. Using him as a shield against weapon fire, obviously not caring if Blair lived or died as long as he wasn't in Tau'ri hands, the Tok'ra charged, firing a small handgun at the living barrier between him and escape. A bullet caught Teal'c in the thigh, toppling him from his position, though he immediately began struggling to his feet again.
All of their efforts didn't amount to anything; Selmak made it to the Gate and stepped through the event horizon with his victim. Or tried to. The moment Blair made contact with the shimmering pool of light, it transformed to flypaper, and the two of them stuck, Blair's left hand floundering wildly as if seeking to make contact with something.
That something was him, Jim knew without questioning, without thought, and he flung his right hand out as he skidded to a halt to prevent getting trapped himself. Fingers met, intertwined, and Jim pulled with more than his physical strength, jerking both Selmak and Blair free of the changed Gate. As he did, Blair twisted away from the shocked Tok'ra and shoved him through the event horizon. Then he and Jim fell backwards together from the momentum, the sentinel doing all he could to cushion the uncontrolled tumble for his mate.
It wasn't enough, not even close to enough, he realized on the way down. In the split-second he had before they hit, he could sense that the tremendous outpouring of energy from both of them - Blair to control the Gate and his burst of strength to reach him and pull him free - had been more than their over-taxed bodies could take. His mate was nearly unconscious, he was as close, and though SG1 would do all in its power to protect them, Jim couldn't depend on that alone to keep them together.
As the impact with the ground shattered his control, he gripped Blair's hand more firmly, bringing their marriage bracelets into contact. The thin line of untarnished metal flared at Jim's brief mental command, intensified as Blair backed it, then the two separate bands merged, flooding intense pleasure through both wearers. It overwhelmed their exhaustion and agony for the merest of moments, gave each a shining glimpse into the heart and love of the other, then cushioned both into darkness.
As it claimed him, Jim could hear SG1 reach their side, felt Daniel gently tug at the joined bracelets, and tried to smile when he heard his friend whisper, "I won't let anyone separate you."
No worries, Daniel, he thought as his mind and senses shut down. Can't be done.
Knowing that he was insane, Jim decided bitterly, was absolutely no help at all in stopping himself from *acting* insane. It didn't even help knowing that he had a valid reason for behaving as if a few cards missing from his personal deck. He still uselessly, ridiculously prowled around the loft, double-checking all the barricades and locks, ignoring the worried looks his partner keep shooting his way. At least Blair hadn't objected to his constant presence or tried to talk him through his madness, but let him be with it.
Of course, that could be because Sandburg was sharing his lunacy, at least in part. There was no denying the very real physical pain that had randomly attacked them for the past few days. Thankfully, none of his episodes nor any of Blair's had done any physical harm, though his last had been severe enough to leave him wasted for hours. More importantly, there hadn't been another 'long distance rape scene,' as Blair had described that particular assault.
That Jim could almost wish for. Though he wouldn't let Blair sleep alone, he hadn't been able to relax his vigilance well enough to be able to make love with him again. Despite being horny as hell simply because they had, because it had been beyond incredible, and because they would again, if he could ever get rid of the clawing, gnawing sense of imminent danger that seemed to grow larger and closer with each passing minute.
At times, he thought Blair sensed it, too. Not once did he protest Jim's constant invasion of his personal space or the myriad of small touches and caresses. At times, Blair was even the one to do the invading, coming up behind Jim to wrap arms around his waist or to simply lean into him for a few heartbeats. It was strangely reassuring, and all that kept Jim from going off the deep end, screaming his rage and challenge to their unseen foe.
Just when he thought he would finally lose it and vent some of the immense pressure in a senseless act of violence, a feeling of overwhelming fear, as if standing in the path of a tornado and having no retreat, slammed into him. Without conscious thought he grabbed Blair by the upper arm and hustled him into the small bedroom, up-ending the futon and putting it in front of the door. A moment later, the desk was over turned and blocking the corner nearest the fire-escape window, allowing Jim a clear shot at anyone coming through it but leaving it as a viable exit.
Through it all Blair watched wide-eyed, hefting a baseball bat that he'd snatched up on their way into the room. It wasn't until Jim pushed him into the corner and sat down in front of him, weapon up and ready that Blair dug in his heels. "No, no you are not going to shield me. Back to back, Ellison! Do you hear me! Back to back, watching out for each other!"
Jim snarled and wouldn't budge, despite a hard punch to his back and a muttered, "Thick-headed, arrogant...."
Whatever else Blair had to say was lost as the tornado struck, not with devastating pain or fear or destruction, but with a pleasure too vast to be described by that feeble word. More intense than any orgasm, too consuming to be survived, it wiped out awareness of anything but itself. Then, as abruptly as it had descended, it was gone, but not the changes it had wrought.
When he dropped back into self-awareness, Jim found himself crouched on his knees and elbows, head hanging to the floor and his belly wet with his own seed. Blair was behind him, one hand painfully tight on his hip, the other scrabbling at his waistband in an attempt to get his pants out of the way for the hard-on grinding frantically at Jim's backside. Clumsily Jim succeeded in getting them down, but it was a moment too late. With an incoherent shout, Blair shoved against him hard enough for Jim to feel the pulses of his release.
Then Blair dropped on top of him like a dead weight, shaking violently and whispering his name over and over. Since it didn't seem like his lover was going to be able to move on his own any time soon, Jim carefully, slowly straightened himself out until he was laying on his stomach, Blair still resting on his back. Half afraid Blair would take it as a sign he was too heavy, Jim awkwardly reached back to hang onto a trembling thigh to hold him in place. In answer, Blair tunneled one hand under Jim's shoulder, fingers digging into his shirt tightly enough to tear the fabric.
They stayed like that until both were breathing normally again, then Blair murmured into the hollow between Jim's shoulder blades, "Is it always like that? Your senses, I mean? Bang! Out of nowhere, like trying to stand up in a hurricane?"
"Not all the time," Jim said sleepily, remotely surprised he *was* sleepy. "Just when stuff gets weird."
"God, Jim, why are you still sane?" Blair sounded sincerely amazed and curious.
"Am I? And don't tell me that if I can worry about it, I still am."
To his credit, Blair thought about it before answering, "You're asking because of what's happening right now?" At Jim's affirmative grunt, he said thoughtfully, "There was a genuine, valid reason the last time you went strange on me. If I had thought that then, maybe Alex Barnes wouldn't have been able to do so much damage."
"You can't shoulder the blame for that one, Chief. Her wiring might have been all wrong, but she was closer to her instincts than I'll ever be. In some ways, she was a more pure sentinel because she didn't fight what her intuition told her."
Sounding far more alert that Jim felt, Blair started objected, "Yeah, but..."
"That's right, yeah, but," Jim interrupted. "She blew into town and knew right away I was here and that it didn't mean any good for her. So she set out to do the one thing that could damage me most; peel you away, though she probably had no idea why it would work."
Sandburg went from completely sated and boneless to bunched up guilt and frustration in zero flat, but before he could retreat, Jim hurriedly clarified. "It's not like you knew what she was up to, or that you had any reason not to take her at face value when she took you on."
"Jim, meeting her was a pure accident, literally," Blair protested.
"Was it? You mean to tell me that a known criminal, a convicted felon with plans to steal lethal gas, meekly allowed herself to be taken into a police department because of a bump on the head? Hell, the car she was driving wasn't even registered to her; she should have been gone before the first black and white unit showed up."
As Jim had talked, the body on him had gradually returned to its former melted state, and Blair spoke into his back again, as if enjoying the feel of the words vibrating in the skin there. "Knew there was danger... would have translated it to 'cop' because of what she had in mind... safe way to scope out the enemy... bait was talking about the sensory spike... shit.shit.shit.shit."
Blair was deathly quiet for a moment, then asked, "Jim, do you think it's possible that what's happening now is being caused by another sentinel?"
"There's not one here in Cascade," Jim said promptly, willing to swear to that, though he couldn't explain why.
"That doesn't mean there isn't one behind these attacks," Blair prodded gingerly.
"I... I...." Jim trailed off uncertainly, not sure what to say.
"Okay, wrong tact." Blair thought again, then asked, "Jim, do you sense another sentinel?"
"Yes." That popped out without him consciously deciding on the answer.
"But he/she is not in town, not in your territory," Blair said reflectively. "Could this be some tactic to drive you out of Cascade? That could explain why you've dug in, fortified your home, instead of going out prowling."
"There's some sense to that," Jim agreed, turning the thought over in his mind. "The odd thing is, the attacks don't feel deliberate. It's more as if... as if...." He fumbled, trying to find a way to explain, getting irritated when he couldn't pin a describing word on the elusive thing flitting at the edge of his awareness. Frustrated, he flexed his shoulders to warn Blair he was moving, then slowly sat up. "Never mind."
Though he sat back on his heels, hand on the small of Jim's back to maintain contact, Blair didn't let their conversation go. "Maybe like we're being caught in a crossfire?" he suggested.
"You mean someone is going after this unknown sentinel the way Alex went after me?" he asked skeptically. "It would explain getting hit by the sex thing again," Jim grudgingly added.
"That's what it was like; getting hit with it?" Blair asked curiously.
"Ever seen big cats - not lions, but tigers and jaguars - mate?" Jim asked absently, stripping off his shirt and trying to clean up the mess on his front with it. "The female entices the male out his territory by leaving scent markers for him that override his instinct to remain where he belongs. Then, when he does, she damn near tries to kill him because he's invaded *her* turf. Might ensure strong kits, but it's hell on the males."
"Give it up and take a shower," Blair advised, smirking slightly, but helping mop up the worst of the semen on Jim's back. "Yeah, that sounds pretty close to what she did. Beats me how you held off if it was as consuming as mating drives are supposed to be."
"She tried to use me to kill you. Again." Jim spat out the words. "Took too goddamned long for me to push down my instincts long enough to stop her, but I did and in time. God. And I'm supposed to trust them." He hung his head, rubbing at his eyes, seeing that whole slow-motion disaster in his mind's eye for the millionth time.
Needing to change the subject, Jim said curtly, "So we've gone from not knowing what's up to guessing there are *two* more sentinels out there dueling for territory, supremacy, mating rights, whatever?"
"Hey, it's a theory, at least," Blair said with an abrupt flare of anger, standing as he did. "Better than just crawling into a hole and pulling the dirt in after me."
Glad he was too tired to flare back, or maybe just seeing clearly that this was Blair's way of expressing the tension and frustration of the past forty-eight hours, Jim looked up at him said calmly, "Better than crawling into bed and seeing if we can't do better than coming in our pants for a change?"
That completely derailed Blair for a second. "You're not going to keep guarding?"
Shaking his head, Jim admitted, "I don't need to right now; the nagging is low-key, distant. Everything's telling me now's a good time to rest." He paused to grin crookedly. "Or something."
"Fight or flight sublimated into good, old-fashioned sex," Blair said thoughtfully, then yanked his shirts off over his head in a wad. "Works for me."
"I thought it might."
Feeling very much as if he were sitting in the eye of a hurricane, Daniel settled himself gingerly on the edge of Teal'c's bed, taking his lover's hand in his, shielding the action with his body from watching cameras. Though Teal'c was in kel-no-reem, Daniel was sure that he was aware of him on at some level. Even if he wasn't, it was still good to hold that powerful hand, feel the heat and pulse of life in it. There was a serenity in that, in being in the night-hushed infirmary, and he was fairly sure that it was all the peace that could be found in SGC this night.
Jack was one walking rage, wanting to do something, *anything* to the Tok'ra that had been so afraid of losing their supremacy over the Tau'ri that they robbed Earth of the first, real, honest advantage they'd had since they ran into the Ga'ould. Sam was quieter, grieving, as if for the first time she understood that she had lost the father she remembered, and all that was left were the fragments strong enough to survive Selmak's corrupting influence. Before Teal'c had obeyed doctor's orders and rested, he had been tense with anger at himself for failing in his duty to protect their new teammates. Even Dr. Fraiser had been hard on herself, berating herself over and over for not doing more tests on the trizatas injury, or, at least, asking more questions.
Worst of all, Hammond was beset by presidential disappointment on one hand, and by a concentrated effort by Maybourne's allies on the other, to have Jim and Blair removed from Cheyenne Mountain. So far, he had been able to stave off the latter by insinuating, backed up by statements in the official reports, that neither Colonel Ellison nor Dr. Sandburg would cooperate with anyone else. Jack had given that ploy teeth by pointing out that SG1 had already been given information and training by their visitors - and that each and every one of them would go to the brig before sharing it if Ellison or Sandburg were taken away from Fraiser's expert care.
Daniel had no doubt that SG1 would go to jail if necessary, though none of them knew anything of particular value. Strictly speaking, though, it was the truth, but that particular truth was in the subtext of what they had been told over the past few days. Everyone had been so focused on the technology, the *tools* promised by an advanced earth, that they hadn't paid attention to the *culture* underlying those advances.
Except him; he'd been sure from the first that he was missing something, that there was a silent language underneath the actual words used when Jim and Blair spoke about what they had to give. Daniel had had too little time and too few clues to interpret it, much to his frustration. It wasn't until he had seen the Gate blocked by what could only be called an act of will, until he had seen the bracelets fuse together as the partners fell, that he realized that he had his Rosetta Stone.
Unwillingly, but with the sense of calm staying with him, Daniel left Teal'c's side to stand by Blair's bed, which might as well have been Jim and Blair's bed, despite the fact that officially, Jim had his own. But with their wrists linked by the unbreakable nacquada, Fraiser had had no choice but to push the two of them close together and work around that. In the end she'd had to place Jim on his handcuffed side, letting him curl his free hand onto his mate's shoulder, IV needle in the back of it not withstanding. Blair was on his back, one leg pressed close against his spouse's, and the only movement he made besides the slow rise and fall of his chest was to put his leg back if it were moved away from contact with Jim.
Jim didn't have that much self-awareness. Mercifully, he was in a coma, far beyond what had to be unbearable agony as the tissues of his back slowly dissolved, the damage working inward toward his vital organs. According to Fraiser, there was nothing wrong with Blair except exhaustion and malnutrition, but he was unconscious despite that, vitals slowly dropping. Though she hadn't wanted to make the diagnosis, she had to admit it looked as though Blair was dying only because his mate was.
SG1 didn't doubt for a minute that was exactly what was happening.
But Daniel didn't think anyone besides him knew how it was happening. Hesitantly he reached across Blair to stroke a fingertip over the tarnished surface of the bands, which had only the barest glimmers of pure metal left. In his mind, he heard the introductions Jim had made a seeming eternity ago.
PhDs in Anthropology and Psychology, not a physician, Blair had said. But he'd also said that he'd been part of SG1 with their Daniel and Jack. Why would they need *two* civilian anthropologists on a single team? Daniel's specialty might be language, but that didn't usually take so much of his time that he couldn't function as team anthropologist, too. So what did Blair do for his SG1?
We're out of time; nothing to do now but pray the soil is fertile, Daniel had over-heard him say. On the surface that had sounded like Blair was referring to the accumulative effect of the temporal distortion, and the hope that they'd be able to convince the people of this Earth that he and his mate were sincere in wanting to help. But Hammond had already committed to cooperating with their unexpected visitors, they only needed to work out the details. And Blair knew then that Jim's injury was fatal. It had to be something else entirely that they were hoping would germinate.
"Higher cerebral functions as opposed to autonomic and instinctive. Emphasizing the human aspects, mind versus brain," Daniel murmured silently to himself, recalling his conversation with Blair before the first lesson on how to use the ribbon device. "Marrying hard science with that, to make leaps of developmental progress. *Developmental* progress. Human development. Each of them knowing when the other was hit with a temporal distortion, absorbing some of the effect, Blair's hands floating over his partner after one, as if feeling out how much strength he had, insisting on giving me the lessons, manipulating Jack to do it...."
On impulse, Daniel closed his fingers over the fused bracelets, and focused the way Blair had taught him, sending the energy he summoned into the changed nacquada. Gathering all his admiration for the two men, all the respect, all the grief at losing friends he'd hardly had a chance to know, he poured everything he felt into that surge of power. And was rewarded with Blair's eyes slowly opening, though the machinery around them showed no change in his vitals at all.
They stared at each other for a moment, the barest of smiles on the bed-ridden man's face. Then Blair glanced up at where the security camera was, then back to Daniel. Understanding that having anyone realize one of the patients had regained consciousness was probably not a good idea, Daniel bent over bed, as if plumping up a pillow and straightening out an IV line.
"Knew you'd get it," Blair whispered, the sound barely a thread of moving air.
"Not fast enough. You're not strong enough to teach me the rest, are you?" Afraid of remaining close for a suspiciously long time, Daniel ducked his head, hoping it looked like he was praying.
"No." As faint as it been, Blair's voice grew even softer, and his eyes slid shut again. "Get the other Sandburg," he ordered gently. "He's untrained, but he's aware; we can work with that."
"Hold on." There was a faint nod of agreement, then Daniel felt the other man's awareness fade. He waited a moment longer, gave a last touch to Jim's head, as if in farewell but really in order to slip out the earring he wore. Sighing deeply, his sorrow very genuine, Daniel went back to Teal'c's bed. For a long moment he clutched his lover's upper arm, trying to communicate his heart to him, then left, moving as fast as he could.
Not sure if the wrong people were watching, not willing to take the chance, he went back to his own office, to all appearances going back to work. Under cover of checking a comparison on an artifact, he called up articles written on the Chopec, hoping that if anyone were monitoring his Internet usage, they wouldn't get the connection, or at least, not right away. As he'd hoped, that search was enough to find links to lead him to the papers published by Blair Sandburg, which gave him a location: Rainier University, Cascade, Washington. Daniel wasn't really surprised to find he lived in the same city as the Jim Ellison he'd met, and, thinking a cop might make the news occasionally, he called up back issues of the Cascade papers to make sure Ellison was still there.
Downloading them to a CD without reading, he kept up the facade of working until he'd buried those inquiries under a dozen other truly valid searches. Then looking as distracted as possible, but half-deafened by his pounding heart, he took out the CD, scooped up his laptop, and left, coming back in a second later to pick up ribbon device as if he'd just thought of it. Half way to the weapons locker, he backtracked to Sam's office, jiggling the device once or twice, hoping to give the impression of reconsidering what to do it with.
She wasn't working; not that he had expected her to be. Instead, she was pacing around the small space, hands methodically dismantling into small pieces something that looked intricate and scientific and valuable. "Something wrong?" she asked, without looking at him.
"Everything," Daniel answered honestly. That got him a sharp look, but he didn't have anything to add to it that his eyes couldn't say for him more succinctly.
Apparently reading the sympathy and determination he knew was clear in his gaze, Sam smiled fractionally. "Maybe I should rephrase that. Is there something I can give you a hand with?"
Looking down at the ribbon device, Daniel bounced it so that the metal chimed discordantly. "Forgot to return this to the weapon's locker, and then on the way there, I got to thinking that it might be possible to make the same change to a staff weapon that we made to this - so only humans can use it." Before she could point out that it was two different types of armaments entirely, he added, "I know that you weren't present when Jim altered it, but he was teaching Teal'c to do it. Maybe you could take this and a staff into the infirmary and have him talk you through it."
Holding her hand in one of his, he placed the ribbon device in her palm and sent a feeling of intense danger to her, again letting his expression speak for him. The rising of her eyebrows told him she picked up on the silent warning, however subliminally. "How is Teal'c doing?" she asked slowly, checking out the security camera in her office from the corner of an eye.
"More than likely completely healed and waiting stoically for Janet to let him go, which she won't until she's convinced the bullet hole in his leg is healing right. He'd probably appreciate the diversion." Daniel waited expectedly, trying to keep his face and tone bland for the audience, and willing her to read his subtext.
"I could use one myself; I'm thinking too hard about the wrong things," she said, not without some self-derision. She walked out the door, Daniel following willingly. "Is there any change to the power mechanism that you know of?" she asked, plainly asking for the sake of potential listeners.
"Not that I saw, but Blair and I worked more on the application than the construction," Daniel answered honestly. Between the two of them they managed to keep up a conversation that sounded on the surface like a discussion on the two weapons, but was in truth, pure nonsense, like comparing medicine to ballistics.
At the first blank spot in the security coverage, Daniel whispered hastily, "Don't let anybody take them away while they're still alive, no matter what. Blair's defense shield was left with his other things in the infirmary; use it. I'll be back before they die, I promise."
"Daniel..." There was a world of worry and questions in the word, but Sam limited herself to that one, giving him a quick hug. "Take the colonel with you."
"I planned on it." They were back into camera range, and he said, "Want me to brief Jack or would you rather do it?"
"Your turn," Sam said, grinning. "You're the linguist. Go translate."
"Oh, joy. Thank you, Major Doctor." He grinned back, and took the turn for Jack's office while she continued on to the weapons locker for a staff.
If Hammond's people still had the base in hand, there wouldn't be any problems at all while he was gone, but Daniel didn't want to bank on that. No one would question Sam taking a staff to Teal'c, or staying in the infirmary with him. If there were traitors, or just officers who were waiting to see how things stood if the President withdrew his support from the general, then they might be suspicious, but not have any grounds to move. It wasn't much protection for Jim and Blair, Daniel knew, but hopefully, it wouldn't be necessary at all.
He caught Jack on his way out of his quarters, and from the fierce glower on his friend's face, he was probably keeping O'Neill out of the brig by giving him something constructive to do. Daniel grabbed him by the arm, all but dragging him to the nearest alcove where they could barely be seen and not heard at all, and said, "I need to talk to you."
"Hey!" Jack protested half-heartedly, not trying to get away.
"We need to get off the base without being stopped or anybody finding out where we're going," Daniel said urgently, trying to make it look as if he and Jack were arguing about something.
Truly angry, but not at Daniel yet, Jack snapped, "Why?"
"Do you want them to come all this way, try so hard to succeed in their mission, then fail because of the Tok'ra?"
All emotion faded from O'Neill's face, leaving behind only the mask of a covert op solider. "Tell me you have an idea, Danny. Please."
"I have an idea. But first, I've got to get off and back on the base without being stopped or missed. Can you help me with that?" Fighting the urge to glance guiltily up and down the hallway, Daniel waited patiently for his commander to make up his mind.
Finally, Jack smiled his quirky, cocky, 'oh yeah,' smile. "I've always wanted to see if I could break out of this place." It was his turn to take Daniel by the arm and lead him down the hall.
Blinking, Daniel pointed out quietly, "You did that once. I was with you. Remember?"
"Doesn't count; it wasn't really me."
"Well, technically speaking," Daniel started to argue, just for argument's sake, but he was smiling and more than willing for Jack to take command.
All in all, it took less than an hour to get out of Cheyenne Mountain, and was done so easily that Daniel couldn't help but wonder if his friend had spent a restless night or two working on an escape plan just for fun. Or maybe it was part of the covert operative mind set to always have sneaky ways out of top security sites. Either way, Jack commandeered a chopper without a question from the deck officer on the simple grounds that all qualified pilots were expected to maintain their air hours.
The long-ranged chopper he picked was built for a co-pilot, but didn't really only need one to fly it, and Daniel spent the time winging toward Cascade reading the material he'd downloaded. By the time they were ready to land, his 'translation' of the Colonel James Ellison and Dr. Blair Sandburg back at SGC was complete, leaving Daniel astounded at what he'd learned. Slowly, he shut down the laptop and destroyed the CD, thinking fast and furious all the while.
When he and Jack were on their way into Cascade in a borrowed jeep, Daniel said firmly, "This Jim and Blair have to come willingly, Jack. No threats, no coercion, no 'recalling to service.' Or what I have in mind won't work."
"You still haven't told me why we're coming after them," Jack complained. "They're not the ones who've lived through fifty years of fighting Ga'ould. Or are you thinking maybe you can convince Dr. Sandburg to stay alive for the sake of this Jim Ellison? We'd still lose the keys to his brain. Granted, the kinds of things he just tosses off in casual conversation has all our big IQ people running around in circles and howling, but still."
"I'm hoping everybody else is thinking the way you are and haven't even bothered to find out where they are." Otherwise we might be doing a great deal of harm to two people who've already been through enough, Daniel thought. Aloud he added, "It's hard to explain; you're just going to have to trust me on this one."
Picking up his sunglasses so he could stare with impact, Jack conceded, "I guess I owe you a few of those. Just be careful when you call them in."
Shaking his head, turning to watch the mountainous scenery roll past, Daniel said, "No, no you don't owe me. I don't want you to have this invisible tally going on where you give in to me on an issue because you feel you have to in order to keep the books balanced. The team works because we all bring different things to it, and maybe I argue with you more than I should - in public, Jack, in public - but when you listen to me it should be because you think I'm right."
"That's usually why I get pissed," Jack admitted, shocking Daniel into whipping his head around to gawk at him. "You being right, I mean. Don't stop being the voice of reason, Daniel. Sometimes military types forget that weapons aren't the only method available to accomplish the mission. Me included."
"Well... most of the time... you don't call in the military until it's time for shooting," Daniel had to concede. "Not as if I haven't used a bullet to make my point, once in a while, either."
"True, true," Jack agreed. They exchanged a grin, and Daniel put his head back on the seat, soaking up the early morning sunshine and trying to decide how to approach this Blair Sandburg.
When they pulled up in front of the building on Prospect Street that was listed in the phone book as home for Ellison & Sandburg, Daniel was no closer to a solution for that particular problem. Even when his knuckles hit the door for the first knock, he had no idea what he was going to say. A snarled, "Who is it?" came through the wood, and he automatically answered, "Dr. Daniel Jackson, Captain Ellison. Could I speak with you for a minute?"
There was a long silence; enough of a one that Daniel was about to rap again when the door opened a foot or two. The man who filled the opening was clearly one suffering from exhaustion and pain, on his feet through pure stubbornness. Red rimmed both vivid blue eyes, and there were deep lines of pain etched around the tightly held lips. "Dr. Jackson, this isn't a good time to be dredging up the past," Ellison said bluntly.
Daniel could see Blair Sandburg standing uneasily just behind his companion, looking as if he'd rather be glued to Jim's side, telling him everything he needed to know about their personal relationship. He opened his mouth to apologize for intruding on the pair, but what came out instead in Quencha was, "The other sentinel sent me."
Instantly, Jim started to bring up the hand that Daniel hadn't been able to see for the door, and not waiting to see if it had a gun in it, he added hastily in the same language, "Or, more truthfully, his hunting brother sent me."
That confused the sentinel for a moment, long enough for Blair to wrap his fingers around his lover's tense upper arm. From behind him, Jack said softly, "Another one of those situations where English isn't necessarily the best language, Daniel?"
"As a matter of fact...." Moving in ultra slow motion so the action wouldn't be alarming, Daniel reached into his shirt pocket and fished out the earring he'd taken from Colonel Ellison of SG1. Palm up, he offered it to this Jim, hoping against hope that the scent or sight of it would evoke a positive reaction.
Gingerly, Jim took the silver hoop with its obsidian jaguar resting alertly in the bottom of the circle, frowned slightly, but obviously releasing of a measure of his wariness. He stepped back, opening the door wider, keeping Blair protectively behind him. To Jack, he said as they entered, "Do I know you?"
"I'm sorry," Daniel said hurriedly, gesturing from his commander to Jim, only belatedly realizing he was copying when he and Dr. Sandburg had first been introduced. "Colonel Jack O'Neill, this is .. it's Detective, right? Jim Ellison and his, uh..." He fumbled for the English equivalent of 'hunting brother.'
"My partner, soon to be Detective Blair Sandburg."
The two soldiers nodded at each other, as Blair gave a half-hearted wave, then Jack took a slow look around the room. "You expecting some trouble? This place looks fortified enough to hold off a small army."
Jim's expression turned murderous, but before he could say anything, Daniel stepped closer, holding both hands up as if to ask for peace. "They didn't know," he said quickly, intuition leaping to make the connection between the state the partners were in and the presence of their alternates. "The other sentinel and his companion, they didn't know you two would feel what was happening to them."
"What *is* happening?" Blair asked, his tone a mixture of frustration and honest curiosity. He dragged a shaking hand through his hair, then waved it in a circle to encompass their home. "You think it looks like we're under siege? Well, it *feels* like we're under siege, and we don't have clue who the enemy is. We thought it was finally getting better, last night, but it just... changed."
"Look, you deserve the answers, and we want to give them to you," Jack said unexpectedly. "I wouldn't mind a few myself," he added darkly, just for Daniel's ears.
Ellison snorted impatiently, and Jack went on, "But we're stationed out of Cheyenne Mountain. You're ex-Ranger; you know what that means."
"Classified Top Secret: Need to Know," Jim snapped out. "Which means you're not going to tell us squat. What'd you do; drop by to see for yourselves what kind of side effects your experiments were having? How'd you get your hands on the poor saps? Play the patriotic card? Or simply harass them until they had no choice?"
Before Jack could answer attitude with attitude, Daniel risked a careful, brief touch to the sentinel's forearm. "Considering the way your service ended," he said cautiously, "I can see why you might not trust anyone in a military uniform, but you have to know not all soldiers are mindless killing machines, not all commanders are tin-plated dictators. The people we work with, our team, they truly are the officers and gentlemen they swear to be."
Practically feeling Jim's hostility ebb, Daniel said earnestly, "Come back with us and let us show you that. See for yourselves what's going on so that you can understand and decide if what we're doing is right."
Jim didn't seem at all convinced, but Blair bit his bottom lip nervously, staring up at his partner. Without looking at Daniel, he asked in Quencha, "The other sentinel? He dies?"
Half afraid to answer that, Daniel answered honestly anyway. "Yes."
"What will happen to Jim if he does?" Blair inched closer to his partner, giving up all pretense of keeping a socially polite distance.
"I don't know." Daniel lifted his glasses to pinch at the bridge of his nose, then decided not to hold back. "To be truthful, I'm scared to even guess."
"Jim," Blair said hesitantly, "If I have more information, if I can speak to the other, ah, companion, maybe between us, we can sort this out."
"If it helps," Jack volunteered, "You can take your gun and badge; I give you my word that no one will try to stop both of you from coming and going as you please." His slightly ironic emphasis on 'my word' showed that he wasn't letting Ellison completely off the hook for the insults thrown.
The stubborn set of Jim's jaw hadn't changed, and, mentally taking a deep breath to brace himself in case he set the sentinel off, Daniel threw out his trump card. "The companion is dying, as well. We think it's because his mate is."
There was a flash of pure panic in the blue eyes, then Jim bit out through a clenched jaw, muscle telegraphing his ire, "Sandburg, we could be putting our heads in a noose."
"I know, I know. But there are easier, cleaner ways to get to us than this, and you know it." Blair didn't seem to have anything to add to that, and the two of them studied each other for a moment before Jim reluctantly nodded.
Catching Jack's eye, the sentinel said flatly, "Your word, Colonel?"
"My word, and I'll tell the President himself, to go piss up a rope if he doesn't back me," O'Neill said as flatly.
"The President?" Blair nearly squeaked.
"The President. That's how important this is." Gesturing at the door, Jack added, "The good news is that I have a chopper waiting for us; the bad news is that we have to move right now."
"They were in pretty bad condition when we left," Daniel said reluctantly.
Obviously still not completely convinced, Jim took two coats off of the hooks near the door and handed one to Blair. "Let's get on with it, then."
Jack led the way out of the apartment, and Daniel heard Blair mutter, "Flying. Oh, joy, it really can always get worse."
After spending the flight to Colorado unashamedly huddling up next to Jim, as if by holding onto him physically, he could stop his lover from leaving him permanently, Blair had trouble convincing himself to walk a decent distance away from him on the way into the complex. It helped that O'Neill was obviously bullying and threatening guards to get them all past the security check points, forcing Blair to act as if he were a VIP on official business. At Jim's questioning glare between stops, Daniel confessed that they were trying to keep the brass out of the loop as much as possible, though he didn't explain why.
It wasn't until they were on the way down to a sublevel so far below the ground that Blair decided they would need to decompress before going back up to the surface, that Daniel and Jack began to relax. That told him that they were near to the end of the trip, and the odd, strangling fear that had gripped him since he and Jim had climbed the stairs to the upstairs bed returned in full force. Like last night, it drove everything out of his head except the need to possessively cling to his lover, giving him a deep appreciation of just how confusing and bewildering it was for Jim when his senses demanded an action that made no sense on the surface.
To make matters worse, Jim's instincts started cranking up again, as well, and he lagged behind, subtly searching with his senses. "What?" Blair whispered.
"I don't know," Jim muttered back. "There's something, a scent, a feeling in the air... like static electricity...." He trailed off uncertainly, coming to a stop in the corridor and looking back the way they had come as if he wanted to leave.
"Jim?" Daniel asked, stopping as well, then his eyes went wide. "Damn, I forgot. Jack, do you remember what happened when Teal'c went into the Gate room to meet our guests for the first time?"
"Yeah, so?" Jack said shortly.
"I think we're about to have a repeat performance." Daniel said shortly, mystifying Blair completely.
Plainly just as mystified, Jack backtracked to join them. "Why?" he asked in pure exasperation, flinging his hands out to underline it.
"Ah, you see," Daniel said very seriously, "I haven't had time to tell anybody everything, and I'm not sure who I've told what... not to mention that most of what I think I know I don't know for sure that I know."
For a second no one said a word, then Jack asked plaintively, "Did anybody get *any* of that?"
"Secrets are a bitch," Blair said to Daniel understandingly, feeling the tug of a smile when Jim and O'Neill exchanged the completely simpatico look of soldiers suffering civilian genius as best as possible. "Start small. What are you specifically worried about?"
"Jim killing my... teammate, Teal'c," Daniel answered distractedly. "When the other sentinel met him, he had an instant, instinctive murderous reaction."
"Sentinel?" Jack asked, only to have the question brushed aside with, a muttered 'later' from Daniel. Not deterred, he added, "He's been fighting Jaffa all his life; of course he wanted to kill him. This guy's never met one before."
"Maybe not, but I don't think that's going to make a difference." Daniel eyed Jim uneasily, then said, "Explanations would take too long; just promise me that you won't kill anybody in the near future."
For a moment, Blair thought his partner was simply going to walk away from the whole thing, but then he carefully un-holstered his gun and gave it to him. "There are three of you," Jim said dryly. "That should be enough to keep me from using my bare hands."
To Blair's surprise, Daniel sighed, and said, "I hope so. Come on." He took the lead, bringing them to a small room that looked and smelled like a hospital emergency room.
The second they stepped over the threshold, Blair saw and felt Jim go jungle alert, hand automatically going to his empty holster. With a sound that was frighteningly like a snarl, he turned in a small circle as if looking for an enemy, then leaped at a big black man sitting on the edge of a gurney on the far left side of the room. Or rather he started to; warned by the change, Blair had grabbed onto one arm a split second before, Daniel getting the other one.
Regardless, Jim dragged them both forward a step before O'Neill jumped onto his back, the combined weight of the three of them forcing the sentinel to his knees. Blindly struggling with all of them, Jim almost got to his feet, then a petite woman in a doctor's uniform planted herself in front of him and grabbed him by the collar. "If you don't behave yourself right now," she said firmly, "I'm going to sedate you and let the MP's carry you off to the brig. Do I make myself clear?"
Jim blinked at her, and Blair didn't think the command in her voice was going to be enough to pull him back to reason. It gave him the chance to trade places with O'Neill, though, and he plastered himself against his lover's back, arms wrapped around his chest. He stretched up to whisper in an ear, "Easy, easy. We're out-numbered and out-gunned. Save it for when we've got a chance. Besides, you promised."
That seemed to get through; Jim sank back on his heels, shaking his head slightly. "Okay, okay. Not right now." Then he glared at the man he'd tried to attack. "What the hell *are* you?"
Blair took a good look at the person he guessed was Daniel's Teal'c. Other than the gold tattoo on his forehead, and the fact that he looked bigger and more buff than Simon Banks, arguably the biggest man Blair personally knew, he couldn't see anything about him unusual enough to cause such a violent reaction in Jim. Then Teal'c stood and walked slowly toward them, obviously gauging how close he could come without upsetting Jim again. Something about the way he moved, the way he held himself, or maybe the ancient, solemn pain in the dark eyes set off Blair's own alarms, and he tightened his hold on his lover.
"I am a slave to false gods," Teal'c said quietly, answering Jim's question. "Who will never again bend his knee to any being. I am a weapon that has turned against its maker, a soldier devoted to the destruction of any that would take another's mind and person against their will." Cautiously, he knelt as well, lifting his shirts and showing an X-shaped scar on his abdomen.
With rising horror, Blair realized that it wasn't a scar, and the edges of the wound pushed outward as a sinuous, slithering something poked through. Recoiling, pulling Jim with him, he gasped and stuttered, "Wh... what the..."
"It is an infant Ga'ould," Teal'c answered, plainly expecting the reaction, and Blair could only feel compassion for a man who had to live with that burden. Morbidly fascinated at the sight of the thing oozing back into its living nest, he barely heard the rest of Teal'c's explanation, picking out the essential information that this was the enemy Jim sensed and reacted to so violently, and that when it was mature, it would enter the brain of a living being and use it for its host.
"And you can't live without it," Jim said shortly, pulling Blair back completely to the conversation.
"I cannot. But I will destroy it and myself before I allow another to be taken. Until then, I fight to destroy all Ga'ould." Teal'c stood, offering his hand to Jim. "What do your people call those with your gifts?" he asked quietly.
Jim hesitated, looking at the outstretched hand, then at Daniel, who had been uncertainly hovering close the entire time. He turned his head back as if to look at his lover, and Blair rubbed a cheek over his shoulder blade to tell him he'd trust his judgment. "Sentinel," Jim said, taking the proffered help and getting to his feet. "The other one like me, he's fighting these snake things, too?" Blair stood with him, not surprised when his lover pulled him around to stand at his side, one arm loosely around his waist.
A blonde woman in uniform who had been watching from a discreet distance said clearly, "Not like you." She pulled aside a privacy curtain, showing two men in hospital beds pushed together, the usual wires and tubes in place. "He *is* you."
For several days, Blair's emotions had been taking radical swings in so many directions that he honestly couldn't remember what normal felt like. But seeing Jim, an older, seriously worn and ill Jim, lying in that bed, derailed him completely, leaving him in a blessed state of numbness. Almost against his will, Blair drifted away from his Jim, watching him from the corner of his eyes as his lover hesitantly approach the other man on the opposite bed. Then Blair timidly touched the short gray hair of the new sentinel, distantly acknowledging the zing of familiar recognition at the contact. This Jim's hair was finer, but much thicker than his partner's, though he would have bet that his Jim would be completely bald when he was this man's age.
Daringly, he traced the deep lines around the eyes, thinking vaguely that Jim had aged well; he looked distinguished and wise. Blair didn't need the too-slow beep of the monitor to know that the sentinel was nearly gone; a part of him grieved at how little life was left in the still buff and trim body. Obeying an odd impulse, he bent and kissed the pale, lax lips, then turned his attention to the other bed.
His lover was standing over an older version of Blair, running a single graying curl through two fingers, sorrow darkening his eyes, dampness touching the lashes. Unable to bear that, Blair went to him, fitting himself to his lover's side to reassure both of them.
"Time travel?" he heard himself asking from a great distance.
"Do you know about the theory of alternate dimensions?" the blonde lady soldier asked quietly.
Blair nodded, unable to take his eyes off of his other self, not surprised when Jim did as well. He listened as best he could to her explanation of how and why their counterparts came to be on this Earth, not really understanding parts of it and not really caring. When she seemed to have wound down, he said, "Jim and I have been feeling those, what did you call them, temporal distortions, with them, getting weaker and weaker with each attack. And now that they're dying, I think they're accidentally taking us with them. Is there any way for us to break the connection before it's too late?"
Startled, she looked back and forth between the pairs several times, then admitted, "It never occurred to me that could happen. The only other experience we've had with a double coming through the mirror, there was no indication of any link."
"Dr. Sandburg said that the effect was accumulative; the more Earths they visited, the worse it got," the doctor said quietly, coming over and taking Blair's wrist in hand, fingers already on the pulse point. "That could have something to do with it."
"More likely," Daniel said cryptically from his perch next to Teal'c on a nearby bed, "It's because of *what* they are as well as who. And Dr. Sandburg may know what to do."
"Fat lot of good that does," Jack said. He left his post by the door and leaned on the bed on the other side of Daniel. "He's out cold."
Not looking at anyone, but studying the floor as if it were fascinating, Daniel said, "I think Detective Sandburg can bring him around."
"How?" Blair asked, astonished.
"That's part of what I haven't really had a chance to tell anyone. And... well... I'm fairly sure that, ah, you're all going to have a problem believing me." Frowning, Daniel said, "The last thing Dr. Sandburg said to me was that his alternate was aware but untrained." Finally raising his head, he caught Blair's eyes. "Untrained in what?"
The precious numbness that had been cushioning Blair broke with an almost audible pop and the memory of Incacha's bloody hand gripping his arm swept over him. With the image came the fear, the pain, the surprise, and, as always, the strange rush of sensation that he had never had a name for. "I... I..." Blair stammered, not sure what to say, grateful for the strong squeeze from Jim telling him that he didn't have to say anything unless he wanted.
"Would it help," Daniel, apparently choosing his words carefully, "If I told you he was trying to teach me but I didn't understand what until too late?"
Taking a deep breath, Blair said, "I'm standing here five feet from a real, live alien, and a duplicate of myself from another dimension, and you want me to stretch the envelope just a little bit more and accept psychic abilities. Why not?"
A spate of questions broke out from the doctor, Carter and O'Neill; only Teal'c raised an eyebrow as if several things suddenly made sense. Daniel hurriedly promised to give everyone the details as soon as he could, then he got off the bed and came to stand by Blair.
"I'm not sure exactly what you should do; Dr. Sandburg gave me the impression that you would know. The one thing I can suggest is that you touch the bracelets they're wearing when you try to wake him."
Uncertainly, Blair reached for the odd-looking metal fused around the wrists of the two unconscious lovers, stopping before he touched it. "Bracelets?"
"Marriage bracelets, Colonel Ellison told me," Daniel clarified. "It was two separate bands until he fell into the coma he's in; then they melted into one. I think because they told them to."
"Okay, bracelets," Blair murmured to himself, fingers hovering a second more, then closing firmly over the metal. Though he felt more than a little foolish, he took a cleansing breath and tried to clear his mind as if he were going to meditate. Almost instantly a buzz traveled along his spine, reminding him of Incacha's touch, but coming from inside him this time and much more low-key. Then Jim drew Blair flush to his body, as if he felt the buzz, too, so that they were back to belly and it turned into a vibration that made Blair's joints ache.
Sighing softly, the other Sandburg's eyelids fluttered, then opened all the way, though it took him a moment to focus. He and Blair stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, then he flicked a look over Blair's shoulder, a tiny smile blossoming. "Good," he barely whispered. "Hold on tight to him."
"Why..." Jim started.
Blair never heard the rest of the question; his mind turned inside out, with quick bursts of images, ideas and feelings punctuating the dizzying journey. He watched an entire life flash by in a heartbeat, savoring each second of it in an eternal now, not participating in his other self's existence but learning it as if it were a text he had to memorize. The content of his counterpart's childhood wasn't that different from his own, but the context was. While he mentally reeled under the weight of absorbing and understanding it that Blair grew to young adulthood, went to college, earned his masters, and slowly grew obsessed with sentinels, just as Blair had himself. Unlike Blair, his alternate hadn't found a research subject, though he once traced the author of a paper that hinted at one who lived with the Chopec of South American all the way to Colorado Springs and the home of a retired Air Force colonel.
He'd had no choice but to write his dissertation based on the many myths and legends he'd found, and while it'd been enough for his Ph.D, it had left him unsatisfied, and he'd roamed for several years after receiving it. But his journeys to find a real sentinel had only brought him more frustration, and eventually he'd returned to Rainier to teach. Before he had begun, however, he'd received a call from the Dr. Jackson he'd once tracked to Colorado Springs, urgently asking him to visit.
There he'd met an Army Ranger with desperation and fear in his brilliant blue eyes, and three seconds after saying the wrong thing, Dr. Sandburg wound up slammed into a wall and totally losing his heart. He'd fought it, even as he and the sentinel spent six months living together in Cascade, Colonel Ellison supposedly on an educational sabbatical, but really learning to control his senses. In the end, however, O'Neill had summoned Ellison to the SGC, frantic for any edge he could find for fighting the Ga'ould, even one he wasn't sure was for real. Faced with the very strong possibility that his sentinel would die without backup, Dr. Sandburg went with him, fighting O'Neill every step of the way.
Despite the mental distance, Blair's heart ached for his alternate as he gave up an academic's life for that of a soldier's, rejoiced with him when he and his sentinel became, first lovers, then mates, and finally, when they had thought they could get no closer, lifemates. He shared their surprise when Daniel discovered crystallized nacquada, and their astonishment when Dr. Sandburg accidentally learned that it was responsive to human will, amplifying it under the right circumstances. Blair learned with him as he explored this new potential, growing with him from a student of mental disciplines, to a master, then to adept. And when Dr. Sandburg found that one crystal, charged in a certain way by two separate wills, gained a sort of quasi-life dependent upon both those wills, Blair wept with him in relief that neither he nor his life mate of fifty years would never have to live without the other. The changed nacquada would draw on both life-forces to sustain the dying one, effectively killing both.
With a last burst of memory, Blair shared their decision to travel the alternities when their death was in sight in the dim hope of finding a way to make their last hours useful, only to have it all come to nothing. Both of them were struck down before Dr. Sandburg had been able to share enough of the teachings that he carried within him.
Finally, Blair and his counterpart stood face-to-face, mind-to-mind, each dazed by what had spun out between them in half a thought's time. "You want me to take your place," he murmured, still not quite accepting. "To be this Earth's SG1 adept, give them what you couldn't."
"Only if that is what you choose," Dr. Sandburg answered. "But you should know that I believe that, sooner or later, you will be drawn into the fight against the Ga'ould, if for no other reason than because all able bodied men will have to become soldiers to defend your world. And isn't this sort of battle what *your* sentinel was born for?" He grinned widely, and the faint image of his lifemate forming behind him, spectral arms coming around him. "Besides loving you?"
Blair would have felt envious at the ease and power between the lovers if Jim hadn't been holding him the same way, his breath warm and comforting on his neck. He shook his head slowly. "Jim's been living and working as sentinel for over four years now; he might now want to leave his 'territory,' his 'tribe.'"
"So it's up to you," Colonel Ellison whispered, his words barely carrying despite the fact they were only in Blair's mind, "To convince him that all of humanity is his tribe, not just one city's worth. If you don't, he'll always regret passing up the chance to make a difference before the whole world is drawn into war. Trust me on that."
"I guess," Blair said wryly, "I could consider you a good source. The trick will be getting him to believe that we really had this conversation."
"That," Dr. Sandburg said, his voice becoming fainter and fainter, "May not be as hard as you think. Or do you truly think he's not with you now?"
Before Blair could reply to that startling question, the couple faded away from his consciousness, leaving him suddenly weak and very dizzy. Distantly, he felt Jim scoop him up into his arms, holding him as if he were a small child. Then it was all over, and he was sobbing into his partner's shoulder for no one reason he could name.
A mechanical squeal pulled him out of hiding in time to see the older Blair clumsily, tiredly roll so that he could snuggle into his mate, murmuring his name lovingly. Another monitor began its warning wail, but when the doctor rushed over, Blair stopped her with a shake of his head. "No. This is their choice; it's *always* been their choice. Leave them be."
When she started to argue, Daniel put a hand on her shoulder. "They knew this was how it was going to end when they began their travels through the mirror gate," he said, the words coming as if they were too bitter for his tongue. "They've earned their rest, Janet. Let them go. Please, just let them go."
In answer, she turned to her monitors and flipped a few switches, creating a silence that echoed in Blair's ears for a long, long time.
Trying not to let himself be distracted by the smooth expanse of perfect back stretched out in front of him, Daniel concentrated on the small invisible globes of energy at the tips of his fingers, digging them gently into the ripple of muscles beside Teal'c's spine. "Come on," he coaxed quietly. "Let go. Jim and Blair will be out house hunting for hours yet, it's the middle of the day and all the neighbors are gone. Let go, let me hear that you like what I'm doing to you."
"You know that I do," Teal'c rumbled. He lay very still under the unique massage. The only indication of how good it felt was his fists powerfully clenched on the edge of the mattress.
Daniel worked a little lower, into the small of his lover's back, and gingerly enlarged his imaginary spheres so that they penetrated a bit more deeply. With a tiny cry that Daniel would have missed if he hadn't been listening for it, Teal'c arched back into his touch, sending a jerk of pure pleasure through Daniel. It threatened to break his focus, and he said to calm himself down, "You know, it wasn't that long ago I was wondering why I even bothered to keep a place off-base, myself."
As if to deny his slip, Teal'c asked in a maddeningly ordinary voice, "You now have that information?"
"Matter of fact, I do." Daniel turned his attention to the sleek curve where back became ass cheek, resisting the urge to bend and kiss the downy skin. "I was trying to keep a part of myself for myself, instead of becoming Dr. Daniel Jackson of SG1 and nothing else."
"You have always been more than a team mate to me, Daniel."
Teal'c sounded so serious that Daniel looked up from his self-appointed task, and smiled into the solemn eyes peering over a wide shoulder. "I know that now. And I know that being Dr. Jackson is a very important part of me; I can't imagine not being with Jack as part of SG1. But I'm a student again, and I like that more than I thought I would. Blair's a great teacher, though it's going to take years for both of us to become adepts like Dr. Sandburg was. Along with that, I'm a scientist again, helping Sam keep track of the research inspired by his nifty little information virus. I'm liking that a lot, too."
In his mind's eye, he saw Dr. Sandburg with his hands resting on the computer keyboard at SGC and chuckled. If they'd had a clue what an adept like Blair could do to a computer with a touch they would have never, ever let him near one. As it was, hard as Maybourne's cohorts tried, they couldn't stop the endless flow of anonymous emails, websites, 'posthumous' research papers and journal articles created by the virus. Not that it would have helped if they could; so far only SG1 and Hammond knew about the backup left in Daniel's laptop.
Going back to his massage, absently pleased that he hadn't lost the energy he'd summoned, Daniel began working over Teal'c's backside, inching his way toward the dividing cleft. "Best of all," he went on, sure that Teal'c had hardly noticed the lapse in conversation, "I'm your lover, and this is our home now, and I *am*going to make you scream before I'm through with you today."
"I do not doubt that, Daniel," Teal'c all but growled, beginning to rhythmically rub into the sheets. "I am not, however, willing to cooperate as yet."
"Good," Daniel purred back, thumbs slipping along the dark line, creating a longer, thicker probe to delve into it. "Because this kind of control takes practice." He found the hidden center of his lover's body and slid both thumbs into it, opening it wide and pouring an intense shaft of energy into it. Teal'c bucked hard, and whispered Daniel's name exactly the way he loved to hear it most - as if there were a lifetime of love behind it.
Smiling to himself, Daniel murmured, "Lots and lots of practice."
finis