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Medical Considerations #6: Shades of Grey

Missing Scenes for Shades of Grey

Like all the best disasters -- the Titanic, the atom bomb, Lt. Nguyen's engagement party -- the idea looked really good on paper. Get the members of SG1 together in an informal therapy-cum-counselling-cum-debriefing session to work through the lingering aftermath of the sting operation mounted against Harry Maybourne and his merry gang of outlaws. No uniforms, no rank, no notes... just a frank and free exchange of views to clear up any ongoing misunderstandings arising from the mission.

What could be simpler? More efficacious? More insane?

Gee, I don't know. Lighting a match in a gunpowder factory, maybe?

We should have known, Hammond and I. After three years, we should have known. Well... I should have, anyway, and since Jack and the general actually spend time together off base, fishing, talking about God knows what, then Hammond should have known, too.

One way and another, it had been a bad year for SG1. Jack being implanted with a goa'uld larva, no matter how briefly. Daniel losing Sha're. Three of them going to hell, getting hurt, tortured. Twice for Sam, if you counted her Jolinar memories. All of them losing the rematch with Apophis. Jack getting stranded on Edora. Body blows, every one. And while we kept a close eye on them, while we gave them all the support and understanding that we could, Hammond and I knew, achingly, bitterly, that there were scars, and scars, and that we couldn't make them or the pain disappear.

It meant the team was tired. Fragile, on the inside, where it didn't show. Hairline cracks in the psyche, the soul, that widened under pressure. And God knows, what those ineffably superior aliens asked Jack to do was pressure enough to split the atom.

After all of that, asking them to uncover the resulting wounds in the crucible of each other's regard was more than they could bear. It was unkind. Unfair. Thoughtless.

But we thought it would be okay. We thought that after three years, that odd little quartet of disparate views had grown together like four different flowers in a single pot, so tightly entwined that not even this most ill-judged of escapades could disentangle the roots.

How refreshing, to find out at my age how wrong I still can be.

Of course, the damnable thing is that it wasn't really an ill-judged escapade at all. It was a godawful state of affairs that had to be resolved, quickly... an amputation in the field, with the patient haemorrhaging to death and no time for finesse, just hack and chop and bludgeon until the offending limb is severed. Brutal but necessary, and if the patient takes a few ancillary slices, well, you sew those up after the fact and thank your lucky stars it wasn't worse.

Cue me and the general... needle and thread at the ready, trying to work out which cut to stitch first.

"Janet," he said to me in his office, late one night about ten days after it all happened, "we have a problem with SG1."

I sighed. "Yes. I know. A big one."

We hadn't discussed it, the team and I. Jack and I. Twenty-four excruciating hours after the successful completion of the sting, during which I'd been swamped with an SG4 inspired crisis, Hammond had wisely stood the team down for three days. They'd scattered to the winds, fled the scene of the crime, Sam to visit her brother, Teal'c to his wife and son, Daniel to an exciting dinosaur find in Nevada and Jack into the wilds of Colorado on his Harley. The whole base had heaved a sigh of relief, and I'd buried myself in an ongoing biokinetic study that Liz Harris and I dreamed up over dinner and a bottle of good rough red.

They returned to duty on the Thursday. Things were... a little hinky. Lots of exaggerated politeness, slightly off-kilter body language, not exactly making eye-contact stuff. A certain edge to the conversation. No surprises there. All things considered, it was only to be expected. I wasn't worried, then. I did think of cornering Jack, checking to see how he was, but he very studiously avoided me, and I took the hint.

On the Friday, he and Hammond went off somewhere hush-hush to debrief Makepeace and the others. When they came back Saturday, it was like Invasion of the Body Snatchers time. Jack was... angry. Cold eyes and rigid shoulders and take your life in your hands to say 'hi' to him angry. Gone the sheepish, apologetic, excessively agreeable man doing his best to get back into his team's good graces, and in his place a man who walked softly, carried a very big stick and didn't look like he'd have a problem using it. Whatever he was angry about, it concerned Daniel. Sam and Teal'c he basically ignored. But Daniel was treated to the kind of obnoxiousness that in other times, other places, would have earned him a knife between the ribs. For starters.

The day before my meeting with Hammond I'd witnessed an unpleasant exchange between them that set all my alarm bells ringing. The team was heading out to P7X903 for a quick check on a bank of monitors they'd left behind two weeks before, and I was giving them their routine pre-flight once-over. Daniel said something about maybe taking some time to explore beyond the immediate gate vicinity this trip. It was nothing, just an off-handed 'wouldn't it be nice' kind of remark.

Jack came down on him like two tons of bricks.

"That's not why we're going, Daniel. We're going to check the monitors, period. We've got better things to do than waste our time sight seeing right now. If I'd thought the place warranted further exploration I would have said so, wouldn't I? That is my job, after all. To assess the MALP and UAV telemetry and recommend the kind of mission we need to mount. I assessed, I called it, we don't explore. You got a problem with that, take it up with Hammond. For some strange reason he seems to have faith in my judgement."

Sam, Daniel and I gaped at him. Teal'c raised both eyebrows. Daniel said, "O-kay. I just thought --"

"Do me a favour," said Jack. "Don't think. Try something different for a change. Try following orders, even if you don't like them. Might be an educational experience." And then he stalked out of the infirmary, leaving us stunned and disconcerted.

"Well, excuse me for breathing," said Daniel, clearly put out.

Sam and I just exchanged a look. "Come on, Daniel," she said, and patted his arm. "Better not keep him waiting."

So they headed out after Jack, and I put away my bits and pieces and thought unpleasant thoughts. After they returned, Sam and I had a hasty conference in a deserted corridor, but she was as clueless as me.

"I have no idea what's going on," she said, pulling a face. "You should go ask him. He listens to you more than any of us."

Ha.

In three years I'd learned a thing or two, believe me. Like how to tell the difference between the fights with Jack that you can win, and the ones that will leave you in a little bloody heap on the floor. No way was I going to push him into conversation when he was in that mood. No way.

So I held my breath, crossed my fingers and hoped the abcess would burst of its own accord.

It didn't, of course. Which is why Hammond and I were sitting in his office on opposite sides of his desk, wearing identical frowns.

Leaning back in his chair, Hammond pressed his hands to his face, then let them drop to his lap. "I hoped and prayed there wouldn't be any fallout from the sting against Maybourne. Looks like I was asking too much. So now we have to deal with it. The question is... how?"

I shrugged. "They have to talk about it. And soon. But you know as well as I do that it's not going to happen without a lot of arm twisting. They're all very angry right now, and not in what I'd call an 'active listening' frame of mind."

"I'm open to suggestions," he replied with a wry smile. "To be honest with you, I haven't known where to start or who to tackle first. It's all such a goddamned mess." The smile vanished, and his fist banged the desktop. "Damn Maybourne anyhow. The damage he's done..."

"Can be repaired," I said quickly.

"Can it?" He sounded doubtful. Sick at heart. "I wish I were as sure, Doctor." He reached into a drawer and pulled out a tape deck. "You know Maybourne bugged Jack's house?" I nodded. "Listen to this."

He pressed the 'play' button and sat back, the look on his face suggesting he'd already heard the conversation one time too many. I leaned forward, closing my eyes to better catch the underlying nuances.

It was like listening to a murder.

Daniel. Worried, confused, courageous. How are you feeling? How many people in Jack's life are there who'd dare to ask that question? Frank Cromwell, but he's dead. Sara, but she's divorced. Me, but I'd been kept out of the loop on this one and honestly, I can't say I'm sorry. And, of course, always, Daniel.

He must have known what the question invited. He's known Jack longer than any of us. Has seen a Jack that none of us have witnessed. Even so, did he dream that Jack, Jack, would turn on him in such a fashion? Rip him up and down with his double-bladed tongue, disembowel him, leave him gutted and bleeding and sliced to ribbons?

No. He didn't. Because, despite everything, they were friends. Scarred and tested and broken and mended friends.

Or so he'd thought.

Suddenly it all made sense. Daniel's ice cold fury. His scalding bitterness. His point blank refusal to stand with us in the Gateroom as Jack turned his back and apparently walked away, for good.

Oh, Daniel.

I had to blink back tears. Was swept with a blinding, irrational fury at Jack for doing that to a man who loved him, who'd had enough pain to be going on with, thank you very much. God, Jack, how could you?

Of course, I knew the answer already. Because he had to. Because it was necessary. Because there was no-one else available who could look a friend in the eye and stab him through the heart in the name of duty.

Oh, Jack.

When it was over I said, "I knew he was being awful, but I had no idea..."

Hammond sighed, and put the tape deck back in his drawer. "To be honest, neither did I. If I'd thought he'd have to go that far... that he could go that far... maybe..."

I shook my head. "No. Much as I hate to admit it, General, you had no choice. Neither did Jack. Maybourne had to be stopped, by whatever means necessary. And I have every faith that the other members of SG1 are aware of that. I won't deny there's been some collateral damage --" Hammond snorted at that, face screwed up in a disgust which I shared. I managed an acknowledging smile, and continued, "-- but I know these people, sir, and so do you. They've survived too much together to let this tear them apart."

The look he gave me was piercing, his expression twisted between hope and disbelief. "What makes you so sure?"

I'm not. I'm just telling you what you need to hear, sir. What I need to hear. What we both need to believe. Because the alternative is... unacceptable. "I know them," I repeated doggedly. I do, I do, I do, so there.

He said, "I acknowledge your expertise in this matter, doctor, but... we have an unfortunate complication."

Just in time I stopped myself from saying, No, really? We get on well, Hammond and I, but the only person around here who gets away with that kind of sarcasm is Jack. And even then, not always.

"Something happened with Makepeace, sir?"

On a sigh, nodding, he said, "Jack is... very upset about it. As you may have noticed. I think I'll let him tell you what happened himself. It's something that I imagine will come out when they finally get around to talking through this whole mess."

Rats. Where Jack is concerned, no amount of information is too much. Forewarned isn't only forearmed, it's double locked, triple checked and backed up to the hilt. I said, being very polite, "Actually, sir, it might help if I knew in advance."

He considered me for a moment, then heaved another sigh. "Dr Jackson apparently indicated to Makepeace that he's never trusted Jack's command. Makepeace repeated the comment to Jack."

Oh, shit. Oh, Daniel. Of course, he was hurt over what Jack said to him, and people in pain don't often think of consequences, but.... "Oh, dear," I said. "That's... unfortunate."

He snorted. "You could say that. I think," he said slowly, after a moment's silence, "that whatever we decide to do, it should be done informally. In unofficial surroundings. No rank, first name to first name. I know this whole catastrophe arose out of official business, but the fallout is private and personal. I think maybe there's a better chance they'll actually work it out if they're somewhere... unmilitary. Neutral. Domestic...." His voice trailed away hopefully.

"Your place, sir?" I suggested, wilfully misunderstanding.

He shook his head. "Actually, I thought I might sit this one out, Janet. Insofar as they're likely to be intimidated by my presence, even if rank and authority are left at the door."

Right. What I thought was coward. What I said was, "Then I guess it'll have to be my place, sir."

"Are you sure?" He was hard put to keep the relief out of his voice. "Because I think it's the best solution, don't you? Somewhere familiar, comfortable, but without territorial associations. Somewhere they feel able to let their hair down, and talk frankly and openly about their feelings."

Jack? Talk frankly and openly about his feelings? Without the benefit of sodium pentothal? Excuse me, sir, but did we slip into an alternate reality while I wasn't looking?

"Yes, General," I said. "I'll let them know."

And then I'll go lock up all my breakables.

I told them first thing the next morning. You can imagine the cries of joy with which the announcement was greeted.

Not.

I just smiled and shrugged and said, "Sorry. General's orders. See you tonight." And made my escape.

Zero hour had been set for nineteen-thirty. Teal'c was the first to arrive.

"Good evening, Doctor," he said, as I stood aside to let him into the hallway.

"Janet, please," I said, and looked out into the driveway. "You're alone?"

He nodded. "I am."

"So you drove yourself here?"

There was the glimmer of a smile. "I did."

"I... see."

Another glimmer. In the obsidian eyes, a wicked gleam. "Do not concern yourself -- Janet. It was perfectly safe. The car is an automatic."

That made me laugh. An iceberg of a man, is our Teal'c. I closed the door and said, "Follow me, then, and welcome to my home. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Thank you, no," he replied as he trailed me to the other end of house and into the family room. It felt like having a mountain on my heels. At home, off duty, I absolutely and categorically refuse to wear anything on my feet other than flat shoes. In a weird way, of course, I was back on duty again... but I can be as stubborn as the next Jack. Standing next to Teal'c under my own roof made me, disconcertingly, a child again.

He chose the armchair by the picture window, the seat that offered the best coverage and sight lines in the room. Habit, I think. Dressed in a shirt and trousers as he was, I could see he wasn't armed. And while surely he, like I, was expecting trouble, it wasn't likely to come from flying bullets.

Well. Not ones made out of metal and gunpowder, anyway.

"Cassandra is not here?"

I shook my head. "Not for this. She's spending the night with a girl friend."

"A wise precaution."

The others would surely be arriving any moment. I perched on the edge of the sofa, hands tight on my knees and said, "May I ask you something?"

For a moment he just looked at me. Assessing my request, my nerves. Focussed and silent and intent as an eagle. I know, I know... another 'force of nature' comparison. But with Teal'c, it's the only metaphor that springs to mind. He is that vast. That implacable. Still as an alpine lake. Obdurate as a glacier. Lethal as a hurricane. Enormous, unstoppable power caged within flesh and blood and bone.

When at last he nodded, it was like the granting of an audience by some warrior-king out of legend. "You may."

"You don't have to say if you don't want to... but... what do you make of all this?"

For a moment I didn't think he'd answer. The number of in- depth personal conversations Teal'c and I had had were in the 'fingers of two hands' category. I admired him, trusted him... but I didn't know him very well. In many ways, I still don't. In the muted, shadowy lighting the gold on his forehead glowed liquid, newly minted. Then he sighed. It startled me... it was the first time I'd ever heard such an uncertain sound from his lips. "The battle against the goa'uld is very difficult, for they are a formidable foe. The greatest danger that we face is that in attempting to defeat them, we risk surrendering those values that cause us to fight in the first place."

The eternal dilemma. My throat closed. A host. I need a host. With a shudder I banished the memory. "Yes. You're right."

He said, "That is one answer. But if, as I suspect, you wish to ascertain my feelings about O'Neill's part in this recent charade, I have only this to say. Though we were born beneath different suns, in our hearts we are as one. He is my brother, and I am his."

That made my eyes sting. I said, "So... you're not angry with him at all?"

Again, that glimmering smile. "I did not say that. But I have no quarrel with him personally. We were interrupted before he could say anything to me that might have caused offense."

The phone call from Hammond. I took a moment to consider just what Jack might have said in the infirmary to get Teal'c out of his way... and shuddered. There are some things in life you really are better off not knowing.

Impulsively I said, "Teal'c. Truthfully. Will this work? Or am I just making things worse?"

As he considered his answer, the doorbell chimed. I got up to answer it. As I reached the hall he said, "You have a saying here, Janet. Make or break time. I believe it is appropriate now."

Heartsick, I nodded, and headed for the front door. It was Sam and Daniel.

"Hey," I greeted them. "You made it. Good. Come on in. Teal'c's just arrived."

"No Jack?" said Daniel, standing back for Sam to lead the way.

"Not yet."

"Surprise, surprise," muttered Daniel.

"Hi, Janet," said Sam, eyebrows lowered, and kissed my cheek.

"Hi. How are you feeling?"

She shrugged. "Sick."

"It'll be all right."

Daniel looked down at his nose at me. "Ya think?"

Oh dear, oh dear. "Go on through to the family room. I'll... wait for Jack."

With an exchange of looks they did and, a moment later, as I stood in the open doorway waiting for the sound of Jack's bike, or his jeep, I heard the murmur of their voices, soothing as the ebb and flow of a distant ocean.

He came, eventually. Slammed the jeep door and slouched his way up the steps, all slitted eyes and down-turned mouth, hands thrust deep into the pockets of his battered black leather jacket. In the porch light his hair gleamed cold silver.

"I'm glad you're here," I said as I closed the front door behind us.

He headed down the hall. "Don't speak too soon."

Oh.... terrific.

Sam and Daniel were settled side by side on the sofa. That left another armchair and a love seat. Jack headed for the curtained window. Turned his back to it and said, "Let's get this over with, then."

Daniel, arms barricaded across his chest, shook his head. "Oh, here we go."

Up came a warning finger. "Don't start with me, Daniel."

Sam sagged into the corner of the sofa, one hand covering her eyes. "Look, guys, do you think we could --"

Daniel ignored her. Leaned forward, pointing right back at Jack and said, stridently, "Hey. I'm not starting anything, here. You're the one who started this."

"Jesus Christ! I was under orders, Daniel!" Jack, being placating. "I had more important things to worry about than hurting your feelings!"

"Oh, now there's a newsflash!" Daniel, being placated. "As far as you're concerned, Jack, everything is more important than worrying about hurting people's feelings!"

Jack started pacing. It's his version of that tick-tick-ticking sound you hear while a bomb is preparing to explode. "Has it occurred to you yet, Daniel, that my life was on the line? One false step, one wrong move, and phht! Maybourne and his goons would have disappeared me without a second thought."

"And gosh," said Daniel, with devastating aim. "We really would have missed you."

Jack went white. Took a step forward, fists clenched. "You sanctimonious little --"

With a crack like gunfire, Teal'c brought the flat of his hand down on the lamp table beside him. "Kree! Enough! You will cease this petty bickering immediately! It achieves nothing, and dishonours you both!"

Shocked silence.

"Furthermore," added Teal'c, monumental in his displeasure, "you are upsetting Major Carter."

I didn't dare remind him that this was a 'check your rank at the door' kind of do. Barely breathing, I stayed still as a mouse in my chair in the shadows, and waited to see what would happen.

Sam sat up, sniffing, and smeared the back of her hand over her cheeks. "It's okay, Teal'c. Really. I'm just -- you know --"

"Tired of this state of affairs," Teal'c finished. "As am I."

Both Daniel and Jack had the grace to look ashamed. "Sorry, Sam," Daniel said, and squeezed her hand. "Sorry."

Jack muttered something that could have been interpreted in a number of ways. Teal'c, with one last blistering glare, gave him the benefit of the doubt and resumed his customary silence.

I cleared my throat. So much for my carefully thought out plan for the evening, in which each team member would be given a chance to express his or her thoughts and feelings in a calm, non-judgemental atmosphere. Instead, it was back to good old seat of the pants flying.

Surprise, as Daniel would say, surprise.

"I think," I said, in the most soothing voice I possessed, "that we should all take a deep breath and start again. Clearly, there are some issues that need to be dealt with, here. But Teal'c is right. We're not going to achieve anything if we allow ourselves to resort to personal insults. We have to respect each other's positions, and listen to what everyone has to say without judging or attacking. The last couple of weeks have been difficult for everyone here. We're looking to rebuild some trust, people. Agreed?"

"You're right," said Daniel. "As usual."

I looked at Jack, whose faced was screwed up like he'd just bitten into a lemon. He really hates it when I talk like a relationship therapist. "Jack?" I said. "Why don't you have a seat? You'll be more comfortable."

He baulked, like a horse refusing to go into water. Ears pinned back, tail swishing, a red gleam of rage in the eye.

"Please, Jack," said Sam. "Don't make this any harder than it already is."

He sat.

"Why don't you go first, Sam?" I suggested.

She nodded. Sat forward, hands pressed palm to palm and captured between her knees. "I just want to make it perfectly clear that I'm speaking only for myself, here. I mean, sure, Daniel and Teal'c and I have talked about what happened. We talked while it was happening, too. But what I'm going to say now is only what I think and feel." Her eyes never left Jack as she spoke. "Okay?"

He made no acknowledgement. Just kept frowning at the beginnings of a rip in the right knee of his faded jeans.

"Okay," I said. "That's fine, Sam. Go on."

She took a deep breath. Let it out. Glanced at Daniel, and received a small, encouraging smile. Rubbed her palms down the side of her cargo pants, and cleared her throat. "I understand that you were acting under orders, s-- Jack," she began, carefully. "And I understand that you weren't able to let us in on what was really happening. Your life was on the line, and you had to take every precaution."

Jack's gaze flicked up to meet hers. "So what's your problem... Sam?"

She moistened her lips. "My problem..." On another deep breath, she straightened, and lifted her chin. "What I don't understand, what I --" Her voice quavered. "-- resent, is the way you went about stealing the device from the Tollans. By doing it in front of us, you made us complicit in the crime. That wasn't fair."

"There was no crime," said Jack. "The Tollans knew what I was going to do. We worked it out beforehand. Why do you think I wasn't fried when I ripped the damn thing out of the wall?"

"We didn't know that," Sam replied. She was pale, with a bright patch of colour burning in each cheek. "You put us in an impossible position. Report you to General Hammond, or stay quiet and make ourselves accomplices after the fact."

"And you didn't squeal. For which I am very grateful, by the way," Jack replied. "I was touched."

"And I was dishonoured!" Sam snapped.

That sat him up. Sat me up, too. Eyebrows raised, voice dangerously delicate, Jack said, "Dishonoured?"

"Yes," said Sam, unflinching. "We should have reported you. We should have walked back through the Gate and gone straight to Hammond and told him what you'd done. That would have been the right thing to do."

There was the faintest of sneers in Jack's voice as he said, "So why didn't you?"

"Because we care about you and we didn't want you to get into trouble!" Sam retorted, stung. "We felt there had to be some kind of explanation, some reason for you doing what you did!"

Jack shrugged. "And patently, there was. So what's the big deal?"

"The big deal?" Sam echoed. "We thought maybe you were -- were -- sick. Having some kind of a stress breakdown. But you weren't, you were just setting us up."

"In a good cause."

"Yes, but that's not what I mean!" Sam said. "I behaved inappropriately. Whatever the reasons were for you stealing that device, I should not have kept quiet about it. I should have gone to Hammond and reported the theft, and let him decide if you were sick, or insane. Don't you get it? I compromised my integrity for you, Jack. I put my personal feelings before my duty. How can Hammond trust me now? How can he be sure I'll ever do the right thing, when I didn't do it then?"

"Sam --"

"No! You shut up and hear me out, God dammit!"

All our mouths were hanging open. Even Teal'c looked shocked. In three years, Sam had never spoken to Jack like this. Never spoken to anyone like this. Part of me was appalled... but another part was silently cheering. You go, girl. Tell him like it is.

"But you know something?" Sam continued. "Even if I had done it, I still would have been screwed, and you know why? Because then I would have been disloyal. Some choice, huh? Rat on my CO the minute he crosses the line, or keep my mouth shut and be an accomplice to the crime. Either way, I look bad to Generald Hammond. I'm sorry if that sounds selfish, or petty, but it's how I feel. His opinion of me is very, very important... and now it's been compromised."

Jack said, "That's not true."

She was on the verge of tears again, rage and pain and disillusionment brimming in her eyes. "Yes, it is true, and you know it. How could you do that to me? After everything we've been through together, how could you jeopardise my career like that? You know how important it is, Jack! It's my life! Why did you do it? You didn't have to, you could have sent us on ahead and then made up a reason to go back. We never had to know. You could have surprised us all with it in the mission debrief, and we never would have been involved!"

It was a long time before Jack replied. When he did speak, it was very carefully, as though he had to ride every word, every breath, or run the risk of losing control completely. I had a sudden sense of exclusion, as though the rest of us didn't exist and it was just him, and her, and the chasm that had opened up between them.

"I did consider doing it that way," he said. "But the Tollan have security recorders all over the place, and I couldn't be sure that they didn't have their own subversives. We really don't know that much about them, yet. And... it was a situation that lended itself to paranoia. You're right, I could have arranged with you to carry on while I doubled back and took the device. But it would have meant you were still open to suspicion. For all anyone knew, I could have told you what I was going to do, and sent you ahead to create a diversion or something. My way made it crystal clear that you --" His gaze flickered to the others, briefly. "-- none of you, had anything to do with the theft. And if you can't see that, then you're not the officer I thought you were."

Ouch. Low blow. But I wasn't surprised. It's not in Jack's nature to be attacked, and not defend himself.

Gradually, gradually, the hurt faded from Sam's face. The threatening tears receded. She exhaled a shaky breath, and nodded. "Okay," she said at last. "Fair enough. I accept that. But -- it doesn't change how Hammond must think of me now."

Jack shook his head, and for the first time since he'd entered my house that night, the merest hint of a smile showed in his eyes. "Hammond has nothing but the highest respect and regard for you, Sam. You didn't get command of the team because you aren't ready, not because you aren't worthy."

"Oh," said Sam. It was a very small sound.

Across the room, Teal'c's eyes met mine. There was a smile glinting there, too. I returned it, briefly.

"What about what you said to her?" Daniel demanded. "In the corridor. You owe her an apology for that."

Sam shot him a look. "It's okay, Daniel," she said, and there was a hint of warning in her voice. "I told you, I don't need anyone fighting my battles for me."

"Not to mention that it's none of your business," Jack added. The lurking smile was gone, and his eyes were back to being flat, and cold, and unforgiving.

Daniel, bless him, has never been afraid of giving Jack back what he dishes out. "I'm making it my business," he retorted. "You hurt her, Jack."

"No, he didn't, Daniel," Sam said, using her 'Major Carter' voice. "Just let it go."

Daniel turned on her. "No, I won't let it go. He did hurt you, you know he did. I'm tired of him getting to say whatever he likes to people and nobody calling him on it. It's not fair. Just because he's the colonel doesn't mean he should get away with it."

"Get away with it?" said Jack.

Oh dear. We were back to dangerous delicacy again.

"You always do," said Daniel. His face was set, eyes opaque. "You bully with words and because you can be so goddamned scarey, nobody says anything."

Jack smiled. My heart sank. He said, "This isn't about Sam at all, is it, Daniel? This is about you. It's that old 'only child, must be the centre of the universe' thing. Your problem is, you're a spoilt brat. All you ever think about is yourself."

"Er --" I said. "People... remember what I said about --"

"No, Jack," said Daniel, who has a pretty good line in dangerous himself. "This is about you, and the choices you made during this little operation. The things you chose to say, and the way you chose to say them."

"Christ on crutches!" Jack was on his feet again, pacing, hands agitated, savaging his hair. "How many times do I have to tell you? My place was bugged, I had to make it sound good! It's your own fault, anyway."

And now Daniel was standing, goaded beyond the point of no return. "My fault?" he demanded. "How the fuck is it my fault?"

Jack whirled to face him. "Because, Daniel, you never listen to me. Never. If you'd just for once listened when I said I didn't want to talk about it, if you'd respected the fact that I --"

"Respect?" Daniel gasped. "Hello pot, this is kettle! Since when have you ever respected --"

"Oh, fuck, Daniel!" Jack's fist hit the wall. "Not this again. How many more times do you want me to say it? I respect the hell out of you when it comes to your area of expertise. I just wish that for once you'd return the compliment and respect mine... and respect my right not to talk to you if I don't want to! What gives you the right to demand that I share my feelings with you? Do you have a short circuit in your brain somewhere, that when you hear the words 'I don't want to talk about it', you suddenly go deaf? Why won't you just take no for an answer? I said what I said because it was the only way to shut you the fuck up and get you out of there. I was protecting you, you stupid bastard, and it's not my fault if you're too pig ignorant to see it!"

"Protecting me?" Daniel repeated. "Telling me that our friendship meant nothing to you was protecting me?"

"And what about what you said to me, huh?" Jack spat. "Since when is a friendship something you work on? What am I, some kind of post-doctoral thesis? An extra-curricular anthropological project? Is spending time with me like -- like -- homework? What? Because fuck you! Am I supposed to feel grateful you're taking the time to work so hard at liking me?"

"I didn't mean it like that!" Daniel shouted. "Stop putting words in my mouth. What I meant is that you and I have very little in common --"

"You got that right!"

"-- and -- and -- and I'm not going to let you turn this around and make it into my fault! You always do that. You always attack people when you know you're in the wrong. You may have been playing a part, Jack, and you may have been talking it up for the invisible audience, but there was a part of you that meant what you said, you know it, and I know it, and --"

"The way you meant what you said to Makepeace?" said Jack.

I was holding my breath so hard my head had started to swim. All of a sudden, things were right out of hand. Sam was staring at the two of them as though her heart was ready to split right down the middle. This wasn't what I'd intended, this wasn't how it was supposed to go. I'd expected some fireworks, I'd expected a lively exchange of opposing viewpoints... but this was bloodshed. They were tearing each other apart, hacking and slashing without care. I had to do something. I had to stop it before --

Across the room, Teal'c shook his head at me. Frowned. Lifted a hand in a gesture that said, See it through.

I sat back, heart pounding to dust against my ribs.

Daniel blinked. "What?"

Any remnants of delicacy in Jack's voice were now burned to ash. He said, simmeringly, "You remember. About how you never trusted me?"

"Oh," said Daniel. "That."

"He couldn't wait to share that little titbit," said Jack. "First words out of his mouth when Hammond and I went to see him. 'So, Jack, how's your team? Do they trust you yet?'"

"I never said I didn't trust you," Daniel said flatly. "I said I never trusted your command."

"Oh, well, excuse me while I get my magnifying glass to look for the difference," said Jack, with awful sarcasm.

"There is a difference, and you know it," said Daniel. "You said it yourself. People like you and people like me don't see the world the same way. I may trust you to pull my ass out of the fire, but I don't trust you to-- to -- to put cultural considerations before military ones."

"Good call!" Jack jeered. "Because it'll be a cold day in hell before I do that! And if that's such a problem for you, Daniel, you should probably go find someone else to be friends with, if that's what we ever were, because I am sick to fucking death of this shit! It's too hard! Fuck!" His fists were clenching and unclenching as though they longed to drive through paint, through plaster, through timber and brick and mortar into a pure, clean place of uncomplicated physical pain.

Daniel, suddenly and acutely aware of his danger, stood very still.

Jack said, raggedly, "You think you're the only one working here? You think you're a walk in the park? How many times have you jeapordised this team with your stupid impulsive cultural tunnel vision? How many times have you argued with me, questioned me, disrespected my expertise, my experience? Jesus Christ, Daniel, I was bleeding for this country while you were in high school! Now I'm bleeding for the whole damned planet, Christ, for the galaxy! I think that should cut me just a little bit of slack, don't you? I think it should earn me the right to do my job as I see fit without being punished for it!"

Daniel said something then, or made a sound, but it was too little, too late and Jack was far beyond hearing him.

"I didn't ask for this crappy assignment, Daniel, I got volunteered. We were in shit so deep it was closing over our heads, and we didn't have the time to sit around debating the niceties! How long do you think we'll last against those snakey motherfuckers if the Asgard and the Tollan and the Nox and the Tok'ra cut us loose? We need them, you stupid prick! Are you going to stand there and tell me that your hurt feelings are more important than the safety of the six billion people on this planet? I don't care if I bloodied your nose, Daniel. You got that? I don't care if you sobbed yourself to sleep! I did what I did for good old Planet Earth, and every other human settlement out there victimised and abandoned by the goa'uld and if you don't like it then that's just too damned fucking bad!"

Silence. Shocked and breathless. A freeze frame of fury and pain and shattered feelings. And then came a sound like bells, chiming. A shaft of brilliant white light exploded the shadows... and there was a little grey alien standing in my family room.

"Greetings," he said.

Somehow, I managed to gather my wits. "Er... greetings -- Thor? You are Thor, aren't you?"

"I am," Thor agreed, and blinked those enormous eyes. "Forgive me for intruding, Doctor Fraiser. I had hoped interference would be unncessary, but clearly it is required."

Jack stirred. "What are you talking about? What are you doing here?"

Thor turned to him. "When I asked you to intervene in the matter of the stolen artifacts, O'Neill, I knew I was putting your life in grave danger."

Jack waved an impatient hand. "We talked about that. I told you, it was cool. Not like it was the first time, you know."

"I know. And fortunately, you did not die. But I fear nevertheless there is the danger of a death, here. The death of your team. Your friendships."

"You've been... listening? To us? Tonight?" Sam said. She looked torn between scientific curiosity and moral outrage.

Thor nodded. "I was afraid the drastic measures taken to uncover the people responsible for the thefts would lead to conflict among you." Again, he turned to Jack. "When we removed the Ancients' knowledge from your mind, O'Neill, we took the liberty of reading your life. We learned everything that there was to know about you, at that time."

"Oh, really?" said Jack. He looked less than impressed.

"Yes, it was an invasion," Thor agreed. "But consider our position. We did not know who or what you were, or whether you posed a threat to us. Because of what we learned of you then, we have risked much for your planet. And we asked you to help us stop the thefts because we knew you had the courage to do what had to be done, even at the cost of your own life. Or the loss of friendships that mean the world to you."

"Oh," said Jack.

Thor held out his hand. There was a small flash of light, and then he was holding a round blue device. He looked at all of us then, pinned us with that unnerving black gaze. "You are angry. You feel hurt. Betrayed. You take your friend's hasty words at face value. It is understandable... but you are wrong." He placed the device on the coffee table. "Watch, listen... and learn."

The device glowed, humming, and then we were looking at a three dimensional holographic recording of Jack, General Hammond and Thor. They were seated round a table, somewhere I'd never seen before. At a guess, it was the Asgard mother ship. The image was stilled, silent.

Jack sucked in a breath. "Turn it off."

The liquid, gentle eyes regarded him gravely. "There is nothing to fear, O'Neill."

Jack turned away.

"What is it?" said Daniel. "When is it?"

In reply, Thor passed his hand over the top of the image, and it came to life.

The holographic General Hammond said, "It's a very serious thing that you're asking us to do, Thor. The fallout could be.... considerable."

Thor nodded. "Yes. I know."

Jack turned to the general. "Sir... could you excuse us for a moment? Do you mind?"

More confused than offended, Hammond hesitated. Then he nodded. "As you wish, Colonel. I'll wait outside."

When they were alone, Thor said, "You may speak your heart, O'Neill. All consequences must be considered before a decision is made."

Elbows braced on the table, head lowered, Jack sighed. "First of all, I want to apologise on behalf of my stupid race. I know there's nothing I can say to excuse what's happening here, but --"

"Yes," said Thor. "I understand. Go on."

"I agree it has to be stopped. Now. No delays. And I agree we have to operate on a need to know basis. But I don't agree that Hammond and I are the only ones who need to know."

"You wish to tell your team."

"Yes."

"You cannot."

Jack spread his hands flat to the table. "They're not involved."

"You do not know that."

"The hell I don't."

Thor shook his head. "You feel they are not. Feeling is not proof, O'Neill. Someone in your SGC is complicit in these crimes. We do not know, yet, who that someone is. I cannot trust that your team is innocent."

"Then trust me," Jack said, desperation edging his voice. "Believe me when I tell you they're not involved. I know them, Thor. I trust them with everything I have, everything I am. They can help us do this."

"I am sorry. It is impossible."

Jack slapped the table and pushed his chair away, to pace. "You're asking me to lie to them. To betray their trust."

Thor shook his head. "I am asking you to pretend, for a little while, that things are other than they truly are."

Jack waved a dismissive hand. "Semantics."

Considering him, Thor said, "You are afraid they will believe the lie?"

Turning to him, Jack spread his hands wide. "No. They won't. And that's the problem. To make this work I'll have to get in their faces so hard they'll be too busy being pissed off with me to start working out what's really going on. And they will, Thor. Trust me on that. Sam and Daniel are the two smartest people I know, and Teal'c's no dimwit, either. The only way I'm going to distract them long enough for me to get in with whoever's doing this is to hurt them."

Thor blinked slowly, considering. "And you cannot do it?"

"Oh, I can do it." Jack's voice, his face, were grim. Twisted with loathing. "I know exactly what to say, and how to say it, to send them away hating my guts. And if I have to, I will. But I don't want to have to, Thor. These people mean the world to me. Don't make me hurt them."

Thor sighed. "I am sorry, O'Neill."

Moving stiffly, as though his body pained him, Jack closed the distance between them.

"Please."

"Jack --"

Jack lowered himself to one knee, until he was face to face with the alien. His voice quivered. "Please."

Eyes brilliant with sorrow, Thor placed a gentle hand on Jack's head. "No."

Groping blindly for the table, Jack found it, hauled himself to his feet and turned away. Beneath the dress blues his shoulders were rigid. I was glad I couldn't see his face.

Thor said, "Will you still help us?"

There was a long silence. Then: "Yes," said Jack. His voice was ravaged.

"Thank you," said Thor. "I will leave you, now. When you are ready, join the general and myself in the observation lounge."

Jack did not reply. As Thor left the room, he sank back into his chair, and buried his face in his folded arms.

The image faded then, and the holo-projector turned off. Thor picked it up and held it, lightly.

With his back still turned to the rest of us, Jack said, distantly, "Damn it, Thor. That was private."

As though they were still alone in the mothership briefing room, Thor said, "You would prefer to continue the charade that you do not care, O'Neill? Come. You are not so foolish, surely. Or so fearful. Nor are your friends so blind... although they have been blinded." Then he turned and considered the rest of us, who stood and sat as though turned to stone. "Farewell." Within another blinding pillar of light, he disappeared.

After what truly did seem like an eternity, Jack swung around. So might a man look, braced before the firing squad. I had to glance away.

There was a helpless silence. Then Sam said, "Sir..."

Jack lifted a hand, and she fell silent. He said, "What I told you in the corridor was almost true. I haven't been the same from the day I met you. But... that's a good thing."

Sam, Sam...

She gulped. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I--I'm glad."

He smiled. "Me, too." Then he shifted his balance slightly, and looked at Daniel, who was standing in typical Daniel-fashion: head lowered, arms close about his body. "Daniel..."

Daniel looked up. His eyes were very blue behind his glasses. "Jack?"

I've seen Jack truly lost for words twice, maybe three times, in all the long years that I've known him. This was the first. He just stood there: lost, forcibly stripped of all his defenses, left naked and exposed and vulnerable in a way that, until then, only I'd been privy to. Behind the sharp tongue and the assinine humour and the impatient arrogance lives a man of profound sensitivity and exposed nerves. Until that moment, I'm not sure if the others ever really knew that.

Jack cleared his throat. Tugged at his jacket. Tried to paste on that familiar, cocky smile, and failed. His eyes were frightened. "Daniel..."

Daniel sighed. Shook his head. Smiled his sweet, sweet smile. "Oh... just shut up, you fucking moron." And stepping forward, he folded Jack into a rib-cracking embrace. And then Sam was hugging him, and Teal'c was standing sentinel, a quiet joy suffusing his face.

It seemed like my cue to exit, stage left.

So I did.

Later, when I went back downstairs again, Sam, Daniel and Teal'c were clustered round the kitchen table, drinking coffee.

"We helped ourselves," said Sam. "Hope you don't mind."

I started a fresh brew and gave her a smile. "Of course not."

"Jack went home," Daniel said, staring into the depths of his mug.

"I know. I heard the jeep."

Sam sat back in her chair, elbows propped, expression introspective. "So... how about that Thor, huh?"

"You know," said Daniel, still contemplating his coffee dregs, "one of these days, I'm going to kill him."

Teal'c considered him gravely. "Thor?"

"Jack," Daniel replied, and treated him to a look. "As if you didn't know."

"What I know," said Teal'c, sternly, "is what you know, Daniel Jackson. And you, Major Carter. When you look at a tree, do you complain because it is not a flower? Do you chastise a dog because it cannot swim like a fish, underwater? Do you --"

"Okay, okay," Sam interrupted. Her cheeks were pink. "We get the picture."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "Do you? I wonder. Did we not agree that Colonel O'Neill could not truly be as he appeared? Did we not agree that there was a hidden agenda to which we were not being made privy? And did we not also agree that it fell to us to keep the faith, and trust O'Neill to reveal his true purpose when he felt able to?"

Vastly entertained, not to mention relieved that someone else was doing my job for me, I leaned against the kitchen counter and watched Sam and Daniel squirm.

"Well, yeah," said Daniel. "We did. But --"

"There are no buts here, Daniel Jackson," said Teal'c, still stern. "A dog must do what is dictated by its nature. It cannot simply decide to swim underwater, like a fish. O'Neill, too, acted according to his nature... a nature to which we are all accustomed. It serves little purpose, therefore, to cry like children when he does so. The error, Daniel Jackson, was in allowing yourself to become emotionally sidetracked." He sniffed. "In this matter, you did not conduct yourself like a warrior."

Daniel didn't take too kindly to the comment. "Well, maybe that would be because I'm an Egyptologist, Teal'c, " he replied, edgily. "So shoot me."

"That will not be necessary," Teal'c assured him. His gaze flickered to me, quickly, and away again. In those obsidian eyes, a sudden wild laughter. "This time."

As Daniel stared at Teal'c over the tops of his glasses, Sam said, "You know, we had legitimate grievances here. We did. So why is it I feel bad, now, for even trying to bring them up?"

Daniel abandoned his coffee mug and buried his face in his hands, groaning. "It's Jack. It's just Jack. He's not a man, he's a self-contained biohazard on legs. Guaranteed to short-circuit your wiring from a distance of fifty paces. He ought to come equipped with safety signs."

"Yeah," said Sam. "Warning, warning: prolonged exposure will result in severe hysteria."

Daniel uncovered his face. His glasses were all steamed up. "Define 'prolonged exposure'."

Sam shrugged. "Ten minutes?"

"Ha!" said Daniel. "Ten seconds."

"Yeah. Okay. Ten seconds." She looked at me. "Janet, I have to go now."

My eyebrows lifted. "Really? Where?"

"Anywhere they serve ice cold beer. I feel the need... the need for --"

"Alcohol," said Daniel. "In copious amounts. And do you know what's really sad?"

"What?" said Sam, her hand on his arm.

"I don't even like it."

"You're right," she said. "That is sad." Kissed my cheek, patted Teal'c's shoulder, and left, Daniel trailing in her wake like a comet's tail.

"You don't feel like joining them?" I said to Teal'c.

He shook his head. "I do not."

Sliding into Sam's vacated chair, I regarded him curiously. "You're not the least bit angry with Jack for what happened, are you?"

"I am not."

I thought about it for a minute. "You'd have done exactly the same, wouldn't you? If Thor had asked you, and not Jack?"

Teal'c did not reply with words. Just tilted his head a little, and lifted one upswept eyebrow.

He didn't need to speak. I already had his answer.

Though we were born beneath different suns, in our hearts we are as one. He is my brother, and I am his.

The next time I saw Jack was the following afternoon, in the base gym, working up a sweat on the treadmill.

"You disappeared," he said to me, mopping his face with a towel.

"So did you," I replied.

"Good point," he admitted.

"I just figured I was surplus to requirements," I said.

We were alone save for our reflections, bouncing from wall to mirrored wall.

He said, "I guess."

I sat on a handy weight bench and checked him out. He looked... good. Cleansed. Relaxed. Happy, for the first time since his most recent resurrection after the Edora incident.

Edora. A brand new definition for the concept 'can of worms.' A conversation still waiting to happen.

But not today.

I said, "Are you okay?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Things are... okay? You, Daniel?"

He gave me a look. "If I believed in any of that new age, mystical mumbo jumbo bullshit, I'd say that Daniel is my karmic burden."

I grinned. "And Daniel?"

"Daniel?" Jack's smile was.... complicated. "Oh, he believes it. He says I'm his."

And that made me fall off the weight bench, laughing. Jack just watched, a lopsided grin on his sweaty face. After I'd picked myself and straightened my lab coat he said, kindly, "Go back to work, Janet. I'm fine."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "What makes you think I'm not working?"

He pulled a terrible face. "Ha ha. Funny." Then he laughed.

I stood there, watching him. Wondering. A roil of questions seething. Why, Jack? Why do you do it to yourself? To everyone else? Why don't you -- why can't you -- why do you have to --

He read them in my face. All those questions. The ones people have been asking him, one way or another, all his life. Offered another smile, this one serious. Self-deprecating. Faintly aromatic of apology.

"I'll see you," he said.

"Yes," I agreed. "You will."

And I left him to his sweating, and found something else to do.

A disaster, I called it. But maybe that's being too harsh. In the end, nothing was destroyed, after all. Except maybe some illusions. Some defences. A few misconceptions. And other things were strengthened. Refined. Purified.

I suppose, looking at it that way, it wasn't a disaster at all. More... a devastating triumph.

There's just one thing still pissing me off about the whole business.

I had a real live alien in my family room, and I can't tell my mother.

© March 2000 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

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