Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Back when she was teenager, MacGyver was one of Sam’s TV heroes, just because wherever he was, whatever happened to him, he could deal with it using his pocketknife and whatever came to hand. She admired that, wanted to learn how to make something from nothing, how to fix anything so she’d never have to rely on a man to do it for her.

Not that she had anything against men. She loved her dad, her brother, and the occasional boy. She’d loved Jonas too, until she’d realised no matter how good she’d gotten at fixing objects, people were another matter entirely, and some couldn’t be fixed anyway. That was a large part of why she’d broken off the engagement.

Now here she is, a Captain in the Air Force, a member of SG-1, and it’s weird but Colonel O’Neill bears an almost uncanny resemblance to an older MacGyver, or what she thinks Mac would have looked like as he’d gotten older.

He doesn’t have the same knack for fixing things with rubber bands and baling wire though; she’s the one he looks to when something needs an emergency repair and they’re stuck on an alien planet, countless light years away from the SGC’s technicians.

It’s sort of gratifying. He hadn’t wanted her on the team to start with, but now he relies on her, and in a weird way it’s all down to a teenage crush on a fictional TV character.

Perhaps it also explains why she’s developed a bit of a crush on the Colonel, although she’d never say anything to him. For one thing, they’re both military which means it would be against regulations, and for another, even if he weren’t her superior, scientists aren’t really Jack O’Neill’s thing.

Still, his resemblance to MacGyver makes her smile.

The End

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After visiting a couple dozen worlds, O’Neill has come to the conclusion that there are two kinds of alien planets connected by the Stargates: desert worlds, and the ones with trees. On the whole, even though they provide more places for the enemy to hide, he prefers the trees. Temperatures are more comfortable, there’s shelter from the weather, and trees just look nicer. When you’ve seen one sand dune, you’ve seen ‘em all.

Daniel, of course, looks at everything differently. For him, the worlds they visit are divided into the ones that have interesting ruins he can poke around in, or at least an existing culture to explore, and the ones without either. Scenery is of lesser importance; as long as it doesn’t get in the way of Daniel’s poking about, he doesn’t pay it much attention. Unless there are flowers triggering his allergies, in which case he’ll glare at them between sneezes.

Once in a while they might stumble across a river, a lake, or on a couple of occasions, an ocean, but mostly it’s either sand, or trees, sometimes hills and valleys, very little you wouldn’t find someplace on earth. Alien planets, and alien people for that matter, aren’t all that alien. Even the Goa’uld, if you ignore the glowing eyes, are pretty much human. Okay, so that’s the host bodies and not the snakes themselves, but still, you could pass one on the street and not notice anything strange about them.

Part of O’Neill wants to feel cheated, because when you travel to the other end of the galaxy there should be something alien to look at, extra suns or moons, weird plants, strange landscapes, futuristic buildings… But at the same time, there’s something comfortingly familiar about the scenery. Wherever they go looks a lot like home.

The End

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‘Unto every man the creator gives one hundred blissful days,’ that was what Alekos had told SG-1. Blissful days, but apparently not blissful nights, unless peaceful, undisturbed sleep might be considered blissful, which O’Neill supposed it could. Still, he felt too woozy and hungover to do any serious thinking. All he knew was that when the sun had set the night before, the whole settlement had passed out, and a few minutes later, so had he.

Now here it was, morning, everyone else was awake and being all blissful again, and he felt like he’d been on a bender, which was about as far from blissful as he could imagine.

The rest of the team hadn’t succumbed to whatever had made this planet’s people conk out, so O’Neill could safely leave them to investigate the mystery while he waited for his head to stop pounding. He was the leader, and they were the scientists, he gave the orders and they… did whatever it was they did; it was a fair division of labour. Whatever the deal was, they’d figure it out.

Maybe by the time the sun set again they’d have some answers for him. If not, sleep was good.

The End

Chapter Text

Teal’c understands Hanno’s anger in a way the rest of the team simply cannot. They were not present when Teal’c, as the First Prime of Apophis, made the decision to take the life of Hanno’s father. They did not witness the grief and rage in the boy’s eyes, and therefore they can have no part in Teal’c’s decision to submit to the Cor-ai.

Hanno’s rage is understandable, and his desire for reparation, is not merely fair, it is just. Many years ago, before he turned against his god, Teal’c committed a devastating crime against the boy, a crime that changed Hanno’s life, and now he must accept the consequences of his past actions.

He does not recall the faces or the names of all those he slaughtered while in service to Apophis; most of them it is likely he never knew. He cannot make amends for his other victims, but he can at least allow this one young man to claim retribution against him, even if that means he must die.

He has tried to explain all of this to O’Neill, but his friend does not wish to hear. Teal’c can also understand O’Neill’s anger; by allowing himself to be killed, Teal’c will be going back on his vow to help the people of the Tau’ri defeat the Goa’uld.

But Hanno’s claim against Teal’c predates O’Neill’s. There is nothing more to be done or said, except to await the ruling of the Cor-ai and accept whatever punishment Hanno deems proper.

The End

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SG-1 had come to this planet hoping to find Ernest Littlefield, and find him they had, which was good. They’d overlooked a few pertinent details, however, like the fact that after fifty years, even if Ernest had somehow managed to survive, his clothes might not have.

What do you say to a scrawny, naked septuagenarian who wasn’t expecting company? Daniel did his best.

“Hello, I’m Daniel Jackson. We just came through the Stargate.” Before he could say much more, he found his arms full of sobbing, naked old man. It was a touch awkward, although he supposed it was understandable. After so long, Ernest must have given up hope of ever being rescued.

At least Sam managed to avoid the hugging the rest of them had to endure, mainly by moving out of the way. In retrospect, maybe Daniel should’ve tried hiding behind Teal’c or Jack, but he’d been too surprised to think about taking evasive action.

Watching the almost complete lack of expression on Teal’c’s face as Ernest clung to him was almost amusing, until, under Jack’s pointed prompting, Daniel realised he should probably do something. Gathering his scattered wits, he pointed to the extra member of their party in an effort to divert Dr Littlefield’s attention, and what should have been a happy reunion somehow made the situation even more awkward than it already was.

Despite the changes wrought by five decades of living, Ernest nevertheless recognised his former fiancée, but he seemed less than pleased to see her. This really wasn’t going the way any of them had anticipated.

“Hmmph.” Turning abruptly, Ernest stalked away, radiating indignation and all Catherine could do was stare after him in stunned disbelief.

“Fifty years. That’s all he has to say.”

With a sigh, Daniel followed Ernest. Time to play mediator.

The End

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Because he was trying to gain Shyla’s trust, since that seemed more achievable than winning her father over, Daniel has been regularly spending time in the Goa’uld sarcophagus, even though he doesn’t really need to. His injuries were completely healed after the first session, and yet the more he uses it, the better he feels. It’s even fixed his eyes, so he no longer needs his glasses, and he hasn’t sneezed since he's been here, despite not having access to antihistamines.

Jack and the others, still working in the mines, don’t seem as impressed with the obvious benefits of using the healing device as Daniel thought they’d be. Apparently they don’t see the potential in it that he does, all the good that it can do, but it doesn’t matter, not right now. They’ll come around. And he’ll get them freed from the mines, if they’ll just have some patience. He needs a little more time, that’s all. Developing diplomatic relations isn’t something that happens overnight. He’s keeping the SGC up to date. What more do they all want of him?

A few more days and he’s sure he’ll have everything straightened out. How can he fail? He feels amazing!

The End

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Jack O’Neill couldn’t for the life of him understand why the rest of his team didn’t share his anger. He was about ready to slam Harlan through the damned wall, but Carter and Daniel seemed resigned, even accepting of their current situation. Well, Jack was damned if he was going to back down.

Harlan had stolen their real bodies, or stolen their consciousnesses and shoved them into artificial bodies. Hell, they were robots, mechanical constructs trapped on an alien planet because they couldn’t function away from the power source that replaced their need for food and drink. If that wasn’t something to get good and mad about, Jack didn’t know what was.

And all Harlan would say was that this was better. Better for whom? Obviously not for SG-1; they’d had their humanity ripped away. Their lives, their futures, everything they were and might have been in the future, was gone.

Sure, it benefitted Harlan, he got four more people to help him keep the broken-down underground complex running, but all they’d be doing was maintaining their own prison.

This wasn’t the life any of them had signed up for. They were supposed to be out there trying to defeat the Goa’uld, find Skaara and Sha’re, free the Jaffa, and arm the earth with weapons and technology, even to make friends with other races. They couldn’t do any of that if they were stuck here, and even if they could get around the whole running out of energy thing, General Hammond would never allow them to return to earth again, not like this. They had to be considered a security risk.

It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right, and why was he the only one who could see that? Even Teal’c would only say, “What is done is done.”

Well, if it had been done, then why couldn’t it be undone? Harlan claimed their bodies were gone, that this was permanent, but O’Neill wasn’t buying it, he couldn’t afford to; it was just too… final. There had to be another way, and he’d find it if he had to beat it out of ol’ Harlan.

In the meantime, all he and the rest of the team could do was try to learn as much as they could about the station, and about their current bodies. Maybe they’d find a way out, and if not… Then O’Neill was gonna get REALLY angry.

The End

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It could be worse, Daniel tells himself. He’s not sure how, but he’s reasonably certain that however bad the situation might be right at this moment, it’s not as bad as it could be.

Okay, he and the rest of SG-1 are trapped on an unknown alien planet, summarily committed to what amounts to a prison colony, without their weapons or their remote transmitters. There’s no DHD, they have no means of powering the gate, and nobody back home knows where they are…

So yes, it’s bad, but they’re together, all four of them, and while there are a lot of decidedly unsavoury characters, criminals of various descriptions, sharing their imprisonment, there aren’t any Goa’uld, so that’s a plus. They’ve been in worse situations, he’s almost sure; he knows he has.

For example, there was the time he was injured by a staff blast and trapped alone on Klorel’s ship as the timer on the C4 charges they’d planted counted down to zero, and he’d come through that okay. It he could survive that, there’s no reason to suppose the team won’t figure out a solution to their current predicament.

They’ll be fine. He just needs to keep believing that.

The End

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“What’re you doing up there?” It’s probably a stupid question, but O’Neill asks it anyway, mostly because he can never be entirely sure why Daniel does some of the things he does, the way his mind works is so completely unfathomable.

“Trying not to fall!” Daniel replies through gritted teeth, dangling precariously from a narrow ledge some thirty feet above the ground.

Right, stupid question. “Okay, just don’t let go.”

“Wasn’t planning to.”

“That’s good. I’ll… come get you, or something.”

“That would be appreciated.”

Somehow, Daniel manages to make his reply sound sarcastic, but Jack just shrugs it off. He’s responsible for Daniel when they’re off-world; if he breaks him, he’ll probably be expected to replace him, and where’s he going to find another archaeologist, anthropologist, linguist, whatever the hell, especially on short notice? Besides, he’s kinda gotten used to having Daniel around. He has his uses, even if he has a distressing habit of falling into holes, or off ruins.

Climbing up, Jack manages to manhandle his wayward team member back up onto the ledge and steer him to safety through a nearby window.

“What were you even doing up there anyway? Aside from hanging around.”

“I was trying to get rubbings of the carvings over the door.”

“So you thought the best way of doing that was to hang from the ledge?” Seriously, O’Neill is NEVER going to understand Daniel.

“Of course not! I was on the ledge, until my foot slipped.”

“Has no one ever taught you to use a safety line?”

“Uh, no.”

Jack sighs. “I swear, you need a keeper! When we get home, I’m giving you a crash course on rock-climbing, with emphasis on the use of safety lines.”

“Thanks. I think.”

“You get yourself into more trouble than anyone I’ve ever met.”

The End

Chapter Text

It was strange to realise, after visiting a number of planets where the people were primitive by earth standards, that there were worlds where technology, science, the entire culture, was far in advance of anything earth currently had, or could hope to have within the next few centuries.

Arriving on the Nox world, and meeting the locals, after being killed by Apophis and somehow revived, it had been easy to assume that the Nox themselves were somewhat backward. Friendly enough, certainly, and very hospitable, but… Well, the way they were dressed, the flowers and moss in their hair, their cave dwelling and campfire, didn’t exactly scream Technologically Superior.

And yet, they were, which just went to prove it was a bad idea to judge alien races by earth standards. Appearances were often deceptive, especially when dealing with the unknown.

The Nox, it seemed, just liked to get back to nature sometimes, leave their massive, cloaked flying cities and commune with all things green and growing. Perhaps it refreshed their minds and spirits, or restored their healing abilities, or was part of the education of their children. Or perhaps some of the Nox just preferred to live a simpler life amid the peace and tranquillity of their world, protecting the Fenri, and other native species, from those who would harm them. They’d probably never know for sure, and maybe it didn’t matter.

O’Neill smiled to himself. It was amusing in a way; he’d been so fired up, determined to help them, protect them from Apophis and the other Goa’uld, when the Nox didn’t need his help at all. Something worth remembering: Just because someone looked helpless, it didn’t necessarily mean they were.

Daniel was right; they should have listened to Anteaus, because after SG-1 left the planet, the Nox would bury their Stargate. There’d be no coming back, no more chances to learn any of the many lessons the Nox could have taught them, if they’d been of a mind to. The most powerful race SG-1 had encountered so far, and they’d completely blown it. They deserved their hosts’ pitying, indulgent smiles.

The very young do not always do as they’re told.

Ouch!

Yeah, they’d really shot themselves in the metaphorical foot with their superior attitude; if anyone around here was backward, it was the team, and humanity in general. Next time, they shouldn’t be so sure they already knew everything.

The End

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It’s weird telling Jack and Teal’c what to do. Or maybe it’s just weird that Jack’s actually trying to follow Daniel’s instructions and learn what he’s attempting to teach. Still, if Jack is right and they really are trapped in a time loop, then Daniel supposes that would provide ample motivation. Living the same day over and over, with only minor variations… It doesn’t bear thinking about.

Then again, the next time they loop, Daniel will have forgotten thinking any of this, or maybe he’ll think it all over again, after Jack explains what’s happening and convinces him, and how many times has he done that already? Daniel’s getting a headache just imagining what his friends are going through, and he feels a little guilty for being glad he doesn’t have to remember any of it.

Of course, if he DID remember, they probably would’ve broken out of the loop by now, which gives Daniel something else to feel guilty about, so he pushes that out of his head as well and concentrates on listening as Teal’c and Jack tell him how far he’s gotten with the translation.

Never mind time loops, this is more like being stuck in an alternate universe. He translates, then has Jack and Teal’c memorise everything, so on the next loop they can tell him where he got to in the translation and he can start work on the next section. Jack even corrects him when he gets something wrong. Exactly who is teaching who?

The End

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Stuck in a time loop, with Froot Loops for breakfast, day after day after day for… Actually, Jack O’Neill has no idea how long it’s been, he lost count after the first couple of dozen repeats, his mind a jumble of everything he was trying to learn in order to break the loop and get time unstuck. All he knows for sure is that he’s had enough damned Froot Loops to last for eternity. He never wants to eat another Froot Loop for the rest of his days, however many he has left.

That raises the question of whether he’s gotten any older during the loop, or if his body reset each time the day went back to its beginning, sitting in the commissary having breakfast with the rest of SG-1. On second thoughts, he’d rather not know; even thinking about it just makes his head hurt. He’d like to take a nice, relaxing break that doesn’t involve thinking at all, preferably for a couple of months. He won’t get it, but he can dream.

For the moment though, he’ll settle for something other that Froot Loops for breakfast, maybe a bowl of hot oatmeal. Start the day in style.

The End

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It’s not that Daniel doesn’t want to help Nem, he would if he could, and gladly. It’s just that what’s being asked of him is impossible. How is he supposed to remember everything he ever read about ancient Babylon, events that happened four thousand years before he was even born?

Nem’s race is clearly very long-lived, and he seems to be under the impression that Daniel is too, that he was alive in Babylonian times, that he should be able to remember what happened back then, which of course is ridiculous. But how can he convince Nem of that?

He’s gonna be imprisoned here until he either gives Nem the information he demands, which Daniel doesn’t have, or he dies! Frustrated doesn’t even begin to describe how he’s feeling, but Nem is no better off. How must it feel to live so long, always wondering what happened to your mate? Millennia of searching, always hoping, but never knowing.

Daniel wishes he had the answers, wishes he could reach back into the past and tell Nem what he wants to know, but so little has survived from that part of earth’s history. Maybe if he just had a little more information…

The End

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What’s happening to the people of Cimmeria, all the deaths that have already occurred, that’s SG-1’s fault; the whole team knows it, and General Hammond, despite playing devil’s advocate, probably knows it too. They destroyed Thor’s Hammer to save Teal’c, one of their own, and now that defence no longer exists, the Goa’uld have shown up in force, intent on enslaving a free people.

Jack and his team can’t just turn their backs and let it happen; they have to do something. What, exactly, they don’t know just yet, but they’ll figure it out when they get there and talk to any survivors.

Doing something isn’t as easy as they’d hoped, however. Landing pads are under construction to receive pyramid ships, more Goa’uld will soon arrive, and the team, even with the help of the Cimmerians, are vastly outnumbered. They only have a limited amount of C4, and they’ll need to keep some in reserve for when the ships arrive. Their only hope is to contact the Asgard and hope they’re willing to help.

Just like everything else on this mission, that’s easier said than done. The Hall of Thor’s Might does not contain the hoped-for advanced weaponry, or much of anything else, except for the mighty Thor in hologram form, and a puzzle to solve. A test to see if the Cimmerians have evolved enough for the Asgard to make contact. Solving it gets them an audience with the real Thor, still a hologram, but it’s progress.

He isn’t what they were expecting, not a huge Viking, more like a Roswell Grey. Explaining exactly what happened to his hammer isn’t fun, but he takes it well. Fortunately, what he lacks in physical stature he more than makes up for in technological superiority. Just goes to show, size isn’t everything.

The End

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“This isn’t funny!” O’Neill didn’t know why he expected sympathy from Daniel, not after all the times he’d laughed when young Doc Jackson got himself into ridiculous predicaments, but it still stung to have Daniel stand there laughing his head off and not doing a damn thing to help! You’d think his rank alone would’ve shielded him from mockery, but apparently not.

“Sure it is.” Daniel was grinning, and so help him, when Jack got out of this, he’d wipe the smirk off his face. Just his luck Daniel wasn’t military, so Jack couldn’t assign him unpleasant duties, or throw him in the brig for insubordination. “You’re the one always telling us to be careful, not to take unnecessary risks, all that stuff, and okay, I’ve been a little… incautious at times, but I’m not the one stuck halfway through a hole in a wall.”

“I dropped my flashlight! I was trying to get it back!”

“So you decided to crawl through the hole instead of looking for another way in?” Daniel raised an eyebrow. “There’s a door just around the corner.”

“I didn’t know that! Are you gonna get me outta here or not?”

“After I take a photo.”

The End

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Holding Sha-re’s baby, part of Daniel wished he could take the boy home with him, back to earth, but he knew he was in no position to care for the child. All his energies needed to go into the continuing search for a way to restore his wife to her former self. If there was any way to get Sha’re back, then he would find it. He’d vowed that the day she’d been taken and forced become host to Apophis’ queen.

The baby would be better off staying on Abydos, with Kasuf, hidden away, while both Apophis and Amaunet believed him to have been stolen by Heru’ur. At least that way he’d have a chance. Perhaps when he was older, when Sha’re was safe, they could be a family, just not yet. He knew the boy wasn’t his, but that hardly mattered, because his very existence had brought about something as wonderful as it was tragic.

The last few hours with Sha’re, before the birth of her son, had been an unexpected but infinitely precious gift, a chance for Daniel to tell his wife how much he still loved her, and to assure her he would never give up until he was able to bring her home. Talking to her, free of the Goa’uld sleeping inside her, had restored his flagging hopes. Seeing for himself that Sha’re was still there, still herself, made him more determined than ever to get her back. Someday, they’d be together again, whatever it took.

The End

Chapter Text

This, talking to himself, talking WITH himself, is not in any way normal. Jack finds it hard to look at his other self, because it’s not the same as looking in a mirror, where the image is basically reversed. This is another of him, a duplicate, a doppelganger, visually identical in every way. Well, except for the… wound on his other self’s cheek. Without that, and the outfit the other O’Neill is wearing, it would be impossible to tell them apart.

They sound the same, use the same inflections, the same tried and tested phraseology when they speak. They stand the same, walk the same, make the same gestures, react the same way. Hell, they even think the same, to the point that Jack’s double knows exactly what’s going on in his head, so there’s no point denying that he was considering, just for a moment, sending a bomb through the gate to destroy the team’s alternate selves along with the entire complex. It’s a matter of security.

Can’t do it though. Wouldn’t that amount to killing himself and murdering the rest of SG-1? Not to mention destroying what’s left of a whole civilisation… Daniel would never stand for that, and when he gets annoyed about something, he gets stubborn, and LOUD. Seriously. Ear defenders required.

Besides, if he can’t trust himself to keep his word, who can he trust? The other O’Neill has already promised to bury the gate after Jack and his team return to earth. That should take care of any security issues.

The whole situation’s weird, creepy, and just downright wrong on oh so many levels, but Jack still feels kinda bad for the other him, having to stay here, knowing he can never go home. He wouldn’t want to be in his other self’s boots.

The End

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It was hard to admit he was wrong, but Jack did it anyway, because he wasn’t the kind to duck his responsibilities. He’d screwed up, couldn’t see the forest for the trees, and other cliches along those lines. He was all about what earth could gain in terms of advanced weapons and technology, just for giving the Eurondans some heavy water, but sometimes the means didn’t justify the ends. Sometimes the price tag was just too high.

He should have paid better attention, listened to Daniel, looked deeper, because the clues were there all along. The Eurondans weren’t victims in a desperate fight for survival, they were fighting a eugenics war, and worse, they were the ones who’d started it, wanting to eradicate the ‘breeders’, whatever the cost.

It was the other side who were fighting for survival, battling to keep from being wiped out by people who cared only for genetic purity, saw them as a plague, an abomination. Alar and his people were no better than the Nazis, killing anyone who didn’t fit with their vision.

The Eurondans built themselves a protected underground complex, then poisoned the atmosphere, and now they wanted earth to help them destroy everyone who wasn’t like them. It sickened Jack to realise how close he’d come to enabling them to do just that.

But now that O’Neill knew the truth, it was time to make amends, something that went a little further than merely apologising to Daniel for his own short-sightedness. Time to strike a blow for the other side! Piloting the drones, he and Teal’c switched sides, guiding the ‘enemy’ bombers in. It was the least they could do after they’d been manipulated into killing earlier. With a little assistance, perhaps the rest of the planet’s inhabitants could take back their world.

The End

Chapter Text

“What’re you doing now?” Daniel baffles Jack. Most of what he does and says is incomprehensible, but there are times when Jack finds an odd kind of fascination in trying to figure the archaeologist out. Daniel is smart, brainy, educated in stuff that goes right over Jack’s head, but despite their differences they’ve become friends, and if nothing else, there’s entertainment value in watching him.

Now, here they are on a planet a gazillion light years from earth, and after a night camping at the edge of a convenient stand of trees, there’s Daniel, barefoot, wandering about in a world of his own. He glances back at where Jack is leaning against a tree and blinks through his glasses in the early morning sunlight.

“What?”

Typical; he hadn’t even been listening. Never mind that they’re not on earth and there’s no knowing what dangers could be lurking.

“I asked what you’re doing.”

“Oh. Dauwtrappen.”

“What now?”

Smiling, Daniel strolls towards him, feet damp with dew. “Dauwtrappen. It’s a Dutch word, means walking barefoot through the morning grass.”

“And you couldn’t have just said that?”

“You should try it.” Daniel gestures down at Jack’s feet. “It’s refreshing.”

“And what if you step on something, a poisonous insect, a snake, even a sharp rock? I’m not carrying you back to the Stargate.”

“The MALP didn’t detect anything dangerous, and I’m watching where I tread. Seriously, Jack, don’t your feet hurt? We just spent the night in our boots, and we’ve got a long way to walk before we reach the ruins the UAV spotted.”

Grumbling, Jack sits down on a rock, tugging his boots off. “I must be insane! If I get some weird alien foot fungus, I’m blaming you.” Shoving his socks into his boots, Jack takes a few tentative steps out into the meadow, feeling the cool dew and the springiness of the grass beneath his feet starting to ease an ache he hadn’t even been aware of. “Hey, this feels pretty good.”

“Told you.”

Ambling aimlessly back and forth, digging bare toes into the grass, Jack smiles slightly. He’s still alert for danger, but he feels simultaneously more awake and more relaxed than he had a few minutes earlier.

“Sir?” Carter calls from the trees. “What are you doing?”

“Dew tripping. Daniel’s idea; don’t ask me. Feels good though. You should try it.”

Sometimes listening to Daniel was worthwhile.

The End

Chapter Text

Abydos was a desert planet, a place of hot, dry, sunny days, and cold, clear nights. Daniel had gotten used to the climate, to sleeping in a tent beside Sha-re, both of them covered in blankets, sharing body heat. He’d never felt the chill of the night air, because Sha-re’s presence, her smile, her laughter, had kept him warm.

The SGC is deep below a mountain, so far underground you’d think it would be well insulated. It has a heating system, ventilation, all the modern conveniences, but to Daniel it feels unpleasantly cold and damp. Perhaps it’s mostly psychological, because on Abydos he belonged, he was family, and everyone knew him. Here, he’s out of place, surrounded by strangers, alone, and with no clear purpose. He doesn’t know what to do, so he just hangs around in the corridors, trying not to get in anyone’s way.

That’s where Colonel O’Neill finds him, and it surprises Daniel that anyone’s even giving him a passing thought, never mind enough of one to notice him when he’s doing his best not to draw attention to himself. Even more surprisingly, instead of simply walking past as everyone else does, Jack stops. Before he knows what he’s doing, Daniel’s trailing after the Colonel, out to his truck.

There’s a fire burning in the grate, sending welcome warmth out into the room, chasing the chill from Daniel’s bones. Or maybe that’s the beer he’s drinking. He’s never much liked beer, but it would have been ungrateful to say no when it was offered, and anyway, drinking it gives him something to do with his hands.

He’s out of place here too, but it seems less awkward somehow, because Jack is at least familiar, and he doesn’t look at Daniel like he’s some vaguely interesting scientific specimen he doesn’t currently have a use for. They were never friends before, back when they went on the first Abydos mission, he knew Jack found him annoying, but now… There’s a connection. Jack understands how it feels to lose a loved one.

It might not be friendship, and that’s okay; Daniel doesn’t want to presume anything, but whatever it is, simple kindness, compassion, a repayment of a debt owed for Daniel’s part is saving Jack’s life, it’s more than Daniel was expecting. Beer, food, a bed to sleep in… It warms something deep inside him, makes him feel less alone.

The End

Chapter Text

“What do you draw, my Daniel?” Shar-re comes to sit beside Daniel on the smooth blocks of tumbled stone, coated with a layer of sand from the sandstorm that passed during the night.

Turning, finger still poised where he was tracing lines in the shallow layer, Daniel smiles at his wife. “Self-portrait,” he says, his smile widening at the look of confusion on Sha-re’s lovely face as she frowns at him, then at the marks in the sand.

“Portrait? I do not understand.”

“It’s supposed to be a picture of me, my face. See, there’s my mouth, my nose, and my glasses. Haven’t got to my hair yet.” He looks back at his work of very definitely NOT art. He can draw artefacts, copy hieroglyphs, document archaeological finds, but he sucks at drawing people. “I know, it’s terrible. Guess I’ll never be an artist.”

“What is… artist?” Sha-re is constantly wanting to learn more of her husband’s language, and she soaks up new words like a sponge.

“An artist is someone who makes a living by making pictures. It’s not a very good living though. I’d probably starve.”

“I will not let you starve. Come, my Daniel. It is time to eat, soon. There is corn to grind and goats to milk.”

“I’m not good at milking either.”

Sha-re laughs. “You are very bad milking, my Daniel. Children are better, but to learn you must do. Come.” She holds out her hand and Daniel takes it. He’d follow her anywhere.

The End

Chapter Text

The exchange between earth and Orban was only supposed to be a trade of information and technology. After all, the SGC isn’t authorised to interfere with alien cultures, even if they sometimes do, usually as a side-effect of their presence on another world. People are bound to be curious, it’s a human trait, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

But at the same time, kids should get to be kids, and all of those O’Neill and the rest of SG-1 have met on Orban have been so… serious. The Urrone, apprentices as Daniel calls them, are dedicated to learning all they can in their field of study, to benefit the rest of their people, which is a noble endeavour. But they never smile, or laugh, and Merrin doesn’t even know how to play. It bothers O’Neill.

It bothers him even more when he sees what becomes of former Urrone, after their nanites have been harvested. There’s nothing left of who they were before, they’re little more than vegetables, and there’s no way in hell he’s going to send Merrin back to that. He likes the kid, she’s smart, she deserves better than to be basically discarded as being of no further use once she’s had her brains sucked out.

So he… borrows her for a bit. It’s for her own good, so she can see how much better her life could be if she stayed on earth.

There aren’t any schools on Orban, the people get all their knowledge from the nanites that are harvested from the Urrone and injected into whoever needs them. But going to school, if only for an afternoon, proves more valuable to Merrin and her people than O’Neill could have imagined, because she takes that knowledge back with her as well to share with her people. Knowledge of schools, games, drawing and painting for fun. Knowledge of a different way of learning, a way that will give all former Urrone a chance to live full and happy lives.

O’Neill broke the rules, and will probably be punished accordingly, but he made the right choice.

The End

Chapter Text

It’s her, but at the same time, it’s not. Major Samantha Carter stares at Doctor Samantha Carter in fascination. As much as they might look a lot alike, if you disregard the hair, they’re not, thanks to completely different life experiences, in different… realities, she supposes. Both are indisputably real, but they clearly differ in significant ways. It’s not just that this other version of herself never joined the military.

In a way, Sam kind of envies her other self. Because Dr Carter isn’t military, there was nothing to get in the way of her developing a relationship with her reality’s version of Jack O’Neill, something that would be against protocol in her own reality. They were married, ‘were’ being the operative word since Dr Carter is also recently widowed due to the Goa’uld attack on her earth. An attack that was defeated on this earth, thanks to Daniel finding himself on an alternate earth a few months ago.

Okay, perhaps she’s not quite so envious after all. To love and then to lose, and to not even have time to grieve because you’re desperately trying to find a way to save your entire planet… No, she wouldn’t want to be in Dr Carter’s place.

But she will help, in any way she can. She’ll work alongside this other version of herself, help her to contact the Asgard in her own reality. Maybe this other earth can still be saved. The idea of defeating the Goa’uld in another universe has a certain appeal.

She’s only sorry that no matter what they do, even if they succeed in saving Dr Carter’s world, there’s no way to restore her Jack to life. But maybe they can ease her other self’s pain just a little if her husband’s life wasn’t sacrificed in vain.

The End

Chapter Text

Jack O’Neill fumbled at his forehead, relieved to find no trace of the bulging brow ridges he’d had earlier; from what he could feel, his face was back to normal, he was no longer one of the Touched, which was good because the caveman look hadn’t been flattering.

He didn’t remember too much from when he’d been… whatever, mostly pain, confusion, and struggling to keep hold of some sense of self even as everything was slipping away from him, but that was enough for him to know he didn’t want to go there again.

Had to though, back to P3X-797, because Daniel was back there, somewhere, and no matter how annoying young Doc Jackson could sometimes be, he didn’t deserve to spend the rest of his life as some kind of sub-human savage. He was too smart for that, it would be a waste, and anyway, SG-1 needed him. Besides, Jack owed him.

So, back through the Gate the rest of the team went, hoping their missing teammate wouldn’t have wandered too far, which thankfully he hadn’t, and then it was simply a case of dosing him with antihistamines, and dragging him to the Land of Light, as proof that the Touched could be cured.

Easy-peasy.

The Untouched weren’t too happy, but this was for their benefit as much as Daniel’s, they needed to see for themselves that their kinfolk weren’t lost to them, that they could be saved, restored to the people they’d been before they’d become infected.

Sure enough, once the shot he’d been given kicked in, Daniel sat up, blinking blearily, confused, but his normal self. Yeah, those brow ridges hadn’t suited Daniel any more than they had Jack, or General Hammond for that matter. Jack had a vague recollection of the General’s appearance when they’d been sharing their makeshift cell. Not a pretty sight, not that he ever had been.

In some ways, everything that had happened turned out to be worthwhile. Yes, the civilisation on P3X-797 was primitive compared to present-day earth; they had no technology that would benefit the SGC. But by helping them lift the ‘curse’ from their people, they’d gained a new ally, and who was to say what the Untouched, or whatever they wanted to call themselves now, might know that could prove useful someday?

Maybe it was enough that the people of earth would be welcome among their newfound friends.

The End

Chapter Text

Daniel isn’t himself, and O’Neill gets it, he does. Addiction is bad, withdrawal is worse, and this isn’t Daniel’s fault, no matter what anyone else thinks. None of them had known until now what repeated use of a Sarcophagus would do to an otherwise healthy person.

It does sort of explain why the Goa’uld are… nuts, but that doesn’t help Daniel. In pain, paranoid, scared, he just wants it all to stop, and it will. He just has to get through this stage. Fraiser says he’s getting better, but how to convince Daniel when it must seem like everyone’s out to get him?

“You can get through it…”

When Daniel breaks down in tears, O’Neill does the only thing he can: hugs him, holds him, the way he’d always held Charlie when he had a nightmare. Daniel’s not all that much more than kid himself, and anyway, he’s a teammate, a friend, and Jack can be very comforting when he tries.

“It’s gonna be okay, Danny. You’re already through the worst, all you gotta do is hang in there a little longer. You can do it; I know you can. You’re stronger than you think. Wouldn’t be on my team otherwise.”

Daniel snuffles against his shoulder. “You think I’m a geek.”

“Well yeah, you are, but that’s a good thing. Adds another perspective to the team. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for. You’ve been through hell. No one’s blaming you.”

“Fraiser…”

“Is fine. A few bruises. She’s more worried about you. We all are. And don’t you dare apologise again.”

Daniel manages a weak laugh. “Okay, I won’t.”

“Good. Know what you need? Some fresh air. Wanna get outta here?”

“Yeah, that would be good. Jack? Thanks.”

“Hey, what’re friends for?”

The End

Chapter Text

Tollan technology is light years ahead of anything earth has, or anything the SG teams have even seen in their travels through the Stargate. Earth could certainly use some of the devices they have, but the Tollan aren’t open to sharing. In fact, their leader, Omoc, is quite rude, calling the population of earth ‘primitive’. From the Tollan standpoint, it might well be true, but it’s hardly tactful to insult the people who just saved the few Tollan survivors from fiery death.

Then again, Omoc is blunt-speaking, and sees no reason not to be brutally honest. All he wants is to take his people and return to the planet he was just rescued from, something that isn’t possible. The volcanic action is only getting worse, and soon the gate will be buried under molten lava. Returning, even if the gate could be opened, would be suicide, superior technology or not.

So the Tollan use their technology to pass right through the SGC’s walls, making their way to the surface to study the night sky. Not that it helps them any. The new Tollan homeworld is too far away for any hope of a rescue ship arriving in their lifetime. The only possibility is to find another world the Tollan can settle, somewhere that might prove more acceptable than earth. The only problem is, all the worlds that have been visited so far are even more primitive than earth.

Except for one.

The Nox are, if anything, technologically superior even to the Tollan, but they buried their gate after SG-1 left. Still, Daniel suggests them anyway. Despite Omoc’s suspicions, Daniel stands firm. This is the last and only hope the Tollan people have, and he has to make them understand that. Their lives and their freedom depend on it. It’s a good thing Daniel is as stubborn as Omoc.

A message is sent, and the Nox, being the kind, generous, and above all peaceful people they are, send for the Tollan.

It’s good to see Lya again; her sweet smile warms Daniel inside and he can’t help but smile back at her. This is going to work out, nothing can prevent the Tollan from going with their new friends, the Nox are too powerful. Their technology is more like magic than anything else.

The Stargate opens, weapons vanish, and then so do the Tollan. Daniel can’t help feeling a little smug.

The End

Chapter Text

Apologising was not something Harlan had thought would be necessary. The new people, his new friends, would adjust to their existence, he was sure if it; they merely needed time to learn all the advantages their new bodies provided. They were better, stronger, smarter; he had made them that way, they simply did not see that yet. But they would. Eventually.

For now, he had only to convince them, and for that, perhaps an apology would not go amiss.

“I am sorry, but there is no way to do what you ask. Your bodies are all gone; it is all part of the process.”

While that might not be strictly true, it was a fact that their consciousnesses could not be restored to their original bodies. Explaining that they hadn’t been removed, only duplicated in their new bodies, would only complicate the matter.

Besides, for all his apologising, Harlan did not honestly feel sorry. He had done what was necessary to keep the complex running. He simply was not capable of doing everything that was required by himself. He needed helpmates, and company, and when the gate had activated, bringing these four, it had seemed that the universe had recognised his need and provided a most satisfactory solution.

With five instead of one, the complex could be maintained with greater efficiency than had been possible for centuries. The originals would be returned to where they had come from, and these four, the new ones, would remain. All would be well.

The End

Chapter Text

O’Neill liked Daniel. Sort of. He was a geek, sure, but dammit, he was likeable! Plus, he had saved O’Neill’s life, so he’d earned a few Brownie points for that. He had some good qualities, he was enthusiastic, determined, dedicated, and he knew a lot of stuff that came in handy among the people they met on their travels. Languages, local customs, that sort of thing. Having him on the team was a good thing. Mostly. If he could just learn to follow orders, that would help, but… Well, call it a work in progress.

So yes, O’Neill liked Daniel, he was almost sure of that. The main problem was, most of the time he couldn’t understand a word Doctor Jackson was saying. They spoke the same language, at least in theory, but even so, when Daniel talked, ninety percent of what he was saying seemed to go straight through O’Neill’s brain without finding anywhere to settle.

They came from totally different worlds. O’Neill was career military, while Daniel was so steeped in academia it practically oozed from him. Their differing life experiences were creating a communication barrier between them, and O’Neill had no idea how to overcome that. How could the team operate smoothly if two of its number spent most of their time lost in translation, trying to understand concepts they had no frame of reference for?

So far, they’d managed to muddle through, and everyone was still in one piece, but sooner or later, their communication issue was going to cause serious problems.

“Can’t you just speak plain English?”

Daniel stared at him, confused. “I thought I was.”

“No, you were speaking geek again.” O’Neill had managed to follow the first couple of sentences, but beyond that, comprehension had gone off the rails.

Taking his glasses off, Daniel rubbed at the bridge of his nose and sighed. “That’s how I always talk.”

“I know; that’s the problem. I need a translator. Flash cards. Something!”

“Stick figures? Pictograms?”

“If they’ll make what you’re saying make sense, sure, bring ‘em on.”

“I’ll try to simplify.”

“That’s all I’m asking.”

The End

Chapter Text

“You should put some cream on that,” Jack said helpfully.

Daniel scowled up at him. “Right, of course, why didn’t I think of that? I’ll just run down to the nearest pharmacy, shall I? Ask the pharmacist what he recommends for an allergic reaction to an alien plant? Oh, wait, I can’t do that because we’re not on earth!”

“No need to get snippy. You could just use something from your field kit.” Jack sat down on the log beside Daniel, who rolled his eyes.

“You really think I’m that stupid? Don’t answer that.” Daniel rubbed fretfully at the infuriatingly itchy rash on his arm. “I already tried everything in my kit. Nothing’s helping.”

“I asked Teal’c to collect samples of the plant, Janet can have them analysed when we get back to the SGC, figure out a treatment,” Sam said, joining her teammates on the log. “Honestly, I’m surprised we’ve never run into something like this before, considering all the alien plants we’ve encountered.”

Daniel gave a gloomy sigh. “Just my luck to blunder into the alien equivalent of poison ivy.”

“A lesson for all of us.” Jack smiled wryly. “Don’t touch the alien plants.”

“Now you tell me.”

The End

Chapter Text

Daniel had his hands full, juggling a bunch of heavy books among other things, otherwise he might have been annoyed by the casual way Jack reached out a finger and pushed his glasses back up his nose. It was somehow… an oddly intimate thing to do, even though they were friends now, maybe could even be considered fairly close after all they’d been through together. On the other hand, it was kind of an invasion of personal space, even if it was well-meaning, or could be construed as such, if not for Jack’s smirk.

Then again, if his glasses had slid right off, they might have broken, which would have been a problem. Yes, he had a spare pair, but they were in his office, and SG-1 was currently in a bit of a rush. He’d already held the mission up because of all the reference material he’d needed to gather, since he was going to have some tricky translations to do, so further delays would be best avoided.

“Thanks.”

Well, Jack lending a helping finger was appreciated, in a round-about way, provided he didn’t make a habit of it. Still, if he did it again, Daniel might bite him.

The End

Chapter Text

“I always wanted to travel,” Daniel commented, gazing up at the sky. “See the world, explore other cultures… Visiting other planets never crossed my mind.”

“And yet, here you are, on an alien planet. Again.”

“Yes.” Daniel turned to grin at Jack, his teeth flashing white in the darkness. “It’s fun, isn’t it?”

“Oh yes,” Jack agreed. “Can’t say I ever expected to spend my time wandering around other planets either, but it’s a living, and it’s not without its good points. Has its share of bad points too.”

“More than its share, mostly in the form of Goa’uld.”

“There’s that. But still, seeing all this…” Jack waved a hand, indicating the sky overhead, the three moons, and a ringed planet looming dramatically above the horizon. “There’s nothing like this view back home.”

“No there isn’t.”

“I might not find old ruins and bits of pottery as interesting as you do, but this I can appreciate.” Jack tore his eyes away from the sky for a moment to look at Daniel. “it’s my watch now, you should get some sack time. You’ve got ruins to poke around in tomorrow.”

“And miss this? I can sleep when we’re back on earth.”

The End

Chapter Text

From the bottom of the ramp, Daniel studied the blue puddle shimmering and rippling in front of him, the wormhole’s event horizon, the gateway to… whatever lay beyond.

This wasn’t the first time he’d waited for the go-ahead to step through, nor the tenth, nor even the hundredth, but it never got old. There was always a thrill of anticipation, tempered by a hint of apprehension, because no matter what the MALP might tell them, they could never entirely know what they might face when they reached their destination. An uninhabited world, a lost tribe from earth, an alien intelligence, a Goa’uld stronghold, a Tok’ra base…

In their travels, they’d seen all of that and more. There’d been occasions when they’d barely escaped with their lives, and others where they’d been welcomed by the inhabitants, gaining new allies. Then there’d been all the worlds where the only things that remained were ruins. Daniel was perhaps the only member of SG-1 who truly appreciated such things, the eroded buildings, the fascinating artefacts, but then archaeology was his profession.

“You have a go, SG-1.” General Hammond’s voice came through the speakers. “God speed.”

Together, Daniel and his teammates stepped into the unknown.

The End

Chapter Text

Daniel wasn’t a workaholic, no matter what Jack might think, it was just that work was more interesting than anything else he had going in his life. He didn’t have anyone to go home to, not even much in the way of friends outside the SGC, but now he was stuck with forty-eight hours downtime between missions, and this time General Hammond had put his foot down, insisting that all members of SG-1 should go home…

Teal’c had gone to visit Rya’c, Sam had plans with Jacob, Jack would probably find something to do at home, and Daniel found himself reluctant to return to his empty apartment. These days he slept there, but that was about it. The rest of the time, he spent at work, where there was always something to keep him occupied. Keeping busy meant he didn’t have to think about Sha’re and all he’d lost with her death.

“Forty-eight hours liberty, Daniel!” Jack said, coming up behind him and clapping him on the shoulder. “What ya gonna do?”

“I have no idea,” Daniel admitted.

“Come on then. I have hedges to cut; I could use another pair of hands. I’ll spring for pizza.”

“It’s a deal.”

The End