In His Own Way

He served in his own way.

In his heart, he knew he was a creature easily bought and sold; his soul worth little, yet his information worth much.

The debasing of his personal currency smarted a little, but in the shadowy world of greys where he lived, he couldn't afford to be picky. And so he wasn't.

So much information, so many contacts, so few friends.

Perhaps that was why he enjoyed the contact with Jack O'Neill - the moments of cameraderie which had been missing from his life since he went on the lam. Not that O'Neill had any particular fondness for Harry. Harry was just…conveniently to hand when things went awry in Jack's world and happy enough to offer his help.

Maybe one day he'd put a price on his help, when his honour grew impoverished and his pride gave out on weary legs. Maybe. Until then, he'd take the little niggle of pleasure that came his way whenever O'Neill and his merry band of misfits contacted him for help.

They were an odd quartet in the end. Too cynical, too headstrong, too smart, too alien. Yet when you took them together they were very effective - as Harry knew only too well. They stuck to their own and they worked well together in their own way.

And Hammond knew that and valued what each individual brought to SG-1 - including O'Neill's unique brand of leadership.

Hammond's forced retirement had provided the initial opportunity for Harry's escape from incarceration. It was a bargain, pure and simple: get Hammond back into power and get Harry free. Easy. And his dealings with Jack O'Neill had shown that maybe the man wasn't quite as rigid after all - even if he squirmed at the under-the-table dealings.

It was ironic, really. Harry read the file on O'Neill when he was first informed about the Stargate. The man had spent years in special ops doing things he wasn't allowed to tell a soul. He knew all about under the table and yet, having come out into the open, he refused to go back. Crazy. Probably the influence of Dr. Jackson - and, to some extent, Major Carter. And while Teal'c probably didn't have a rap sheet that was what could be considered clean - you still got the feeling that the man had a code of honour that was as inexorable as O'Neill's.

The opportunity provided by digging up the dirt on Kinsey had been easily leveraged - Kinsey was a chicken at heart despite all his displays of power and Harry was a weasel by nature. Harry was free of prison long before Hammond was reinstated in his subterranean office. And Harry was well aware of the debt of gratitude he owed to Jack O'Neill.

Call Harry Maybourne what you liked, but he paid his debts in the end - in his own way.

So he'd offered Jack help when Carter went missing. It was a kind of reparation for what he'd done in selling the symbiote - for what he'd indirectly done to Major Carter. And Harry had a soft spot for Sam Carter after the SGC foothold situation. She was an officer and a woman worth admiring. Harry figured Jack knew that, too, or he wouldn't have been so desperate to get her back.

Disabling the scientists and slipping away had been child's play. They might seek him but Harry didn't like being found. He'd almost regretted the desertion when he heard about Jack getting shot.

Almost.

Harry might not be the most above board of creatures - and Jack was quite right to treat him with caution - but he was loyal to those who were loyal to him. And Jack O'Neill was loyal to Harry Maybourne - in his own way.

Helping Jack locate the Goa'uld was a way to get back at Simmons and the lies he'd spun around Harry's disgrace - as if Simmons hadn't done as bad, if not worse in his time! There was no way to express how satisfying it had been to find the dirt on Simmons. NID-sponsored dirt, of course - but the kind which they wouldn't be willing to wash from their lackeys. The NID was loyal to the NID itself, not to their individual operatives - as Harry knew from experience.

So now he sat in the parking lot of a bar and watched as the reunited members of SG-1 made their way into the establishment for a quick set of celebratory drinks. From previous experience, Harry knew they'd emerge in an hour - or less - with Dr. Jackson carried out like a sack of potatoes over Teal'c's shoulder. The man couldn't hold his drink if his life depended on it.

So SG-1 was back together again.

And they would go on serving at the SGC. Serving together like the bunch of misfits they were - and beating the Goa'uld because of their oddness.

Harry envied Jack that freedom to serve.

Jack O'Neill and Harry Maybourne were flip sides of the same coin - dark and light. Jack's hands had as much dirt and blood on them as Harry's - more, in fact - yet he still clung to his outdated notions of honour.

Oh face it, Harry. You cling to them too, otherwise why would you help the man?

Maybe that was Harry's gift and his curse: to represent the darker side of Jack O'Neill so the other man could keep his honour. And that was Jack's gift and curse: to be the brighter side of Harry Maybourne so the other man could keep his honour.

Jack could work above the table, but sometimes work needed to be done 'below radar' - and someone would need to get his hands dirty.

That someone being Harry of course.

As he started up the car, Harry supposed it was better that he do the dirty work rather than Jack. At least he had the stomach for it and the ability to keep below radar.

He drove out of the parking lot, reflecting that while Jack O'Neill got to serve his country and his world in the light, Harry got to share in that, too - just a little - in his own way.

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