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TITLE: Under A Starry Sky Under a Starry SkyJack lies on his back and stares up into the star-filled sky above his house. How many nights did he lie here after the first Abydos mission, peering into the sky and wondering what was happening on Abydos? Wondering about Daniel Jackson and the Abydonian girl who had claimed him as her own; about Ska'ara and the other kids for whom he had developed such affection. Now, he lies here on a bedroll, at three on a Sunday morning, with Daniel propped up against the retaining wall chatting with Sam lying a few feet away on her own bedroll. Teal'c is off seeing his wife and son in the Land of Light - one of those jaunts that he occasionally takes to see Drey'ac and Rya'c. Although he said nothing as the others had seen him off in the gateroom, they knew he was tired and weary and in need of rest. They're all in need of rest. Mission after mission after mission had been executed over the last month as one thing after another popped up, and SG-1 was sent to try diplomacy, study the land, or rescue an SG-team member who got caught by the natives. The missions had almost all been successful, which was good. The extended period without a break had left SG-1 exhausted, which was bad. So they have two weeks of downtime. No missions, no reports, no experiments, no tests, no translations, no doohickeys or rocks, nothing. Jack gonna be bored out of his mind. Daniel is going to trundle off into the wonderful world of academia and catch up with some old acquaintances. Which probably means he'll sit around listening to all these blown-up theories about ancient history and stuff, while he sniggers behind the knowledge that they didn't have a fifth of it right. Or else they'll drag out all Daniel's theories about the true origins of the Egyptian people and make fun of it, while Daniel tries not to defend it. Sam is headed off to see her brother and his kids for a few days, then she's heading on up to DC and catching up with her friends at the Pentagon before coming home for a few days of quiet relaxation. Without even needing to be told, Jack knows that 'a few days of quiet relaxation' in Carter-speak means 'a few days spending twenty-six hours a day studying some new doohickey brought through the Stargate by another SG-team'. He'll have to remember to take her out on the town at least one night. But before they left for their 'vacation', Jack insisted they come around and just spend a night on his roof staring up at the stars. They've all had their turn at drowsing off. Sam was the first, falling asleep for about an hour at ten. Daniel was trying to explain the Earth origins of the last culture they'd been in to Jack and was failing miserably. He turned to ask a question of Sam, and she was in the land of the slumbering, with one hand tucked under her cheek, and her hair slipping down over her face. "Guess, I'm not that thrilling a lecturer, then." "Oh, I'm entranced, Daniel," Jack teased, but his eyes didn't move from the angle of jaw and line of throat emerging from the blanket she'd pulled over herself. "So I see." And Jack jerked his gaze away from his team-mate to see the knowing expression of his friend. "Daniel…" "Maybe you should screw the regs, Jack," the younger man said, very softly. "Don't, Daniel." It can't happen, and it won't, so he refuses to think about it. "C'mon, Jack, it's obvious as…" "Daniel." His friend heard the warning and shut up, and they talked of many things in the hour while she slept, oblivious to the men who watched her. Jack was next. One minute he was listening to the pair of them argue, the next he woke to their giggles. A moment later, he discovered why. A huge raccoon was sitting next to him, its head tilted to look into his face. The creature scampered away when he prodded it, and he glared at the other two. "You could have chased it away before it got to me!" "Awww, it was cute, Jack." "We thought it might be a regular to your house, sir. It climbed up the ladder, bold as brass." "And what if it decided it wanted me for dinner?" He demanded sarcastically. Sam gave him her best impish smile, "Well, sir, fresh Colonel is considered a great raccoonish delicacy and so very hard to come by in these parts…" "…it would have been a crying shame not to let him have a little nibble," Daniel finished, and the pair of them burst out laughing as he scrubbed a hand through his mussed hair and scowled at them. An hour later, Daniel lay down while his team-mates traded stories about the people they'd served with through the years. A few minutes later he was snoring. Half an hour later, he was spread-eagled over his bedroll and part of Sam's, too. "Daniel Jackson, bed hogger." Sam's mouth twitched as the archaeologist shifted positions again, once again encroaching on her sleeping space. "Who'd have thought it?" The affection in her expression was mitigated by something else. Less pleasant memories. Jack took a leap into the unknown. "Did Jonas hog the bed?" It was an intuitive guess on his part, and an impertinent question. She would have been well within her rights not to answer it, but she responded after a few moments. "Not exactly. But we'd go to sleep side by side, and I'd wake up with him all over me." Like the obsession she would eventually become. "Possessive sleeper." Sam smiled lightly. "Something like that." But there were shadows in her eyes as she remembered the man whose ring she wore for a time. He chose to lighten the mood somewhat. "Bet he never pushed you out of bed, though." "You pushed your wife out of bed?" This time her smile was genuine, "So Daniel isn't the only bed-hogger in the team?" His grin was wry, "Sara got used to dreaming of rolling and falling, and ending up on the floor." "But I'm sure she never liked it." She made a face. "Explain to me, sir, why men always claim such a big part of the bed." "Well, we're bigger for one." "Not that much bigger." "We like sprawling." "I'd say you're just greedy." He paused, "Guys like sleeping against the person we're sharing our bed with. But all she seems to want to do is move away. So every time we move over, she shifts away, and sooner or later the bed runs out." There's silence, and suddenly he wondered if he'd said too much. Then he looked over at her and found her wry smile, "I guess I can't argue with that one." "Good." Briefly the thought surfaced that if he shared a bed with her, he'd be a bed-hogger for sure. Then he put that notion carefully and quietly away. They talked of other topics before their companion woke up with a grunt, and they shared a smile. Then Jack took to poking the still half-asleep archaeologist while Sam swatted at him, playing a game of attacker and defender, with Daniel as the warzone. Finally, once it had turned into a three-way wrestling match, with Sam and Daniel teaming up against Jack, they agreed on a truce and sat back in comfortably tired silence. So Jack lies on his back and stares up into the star-filled sky above his house. Sam is asking Daniel about the first Abydos mission. She's read the reports once, but in all of five years, she's never yet plumbed the depths of the mission that began it all. Reading the reports doesn't quite compare to listening to the tale told by the people who were there. Jack knows. He's read enough reports that described nothing of the horror, the terror, the fear, or the relief - and that's just the emotion. You miss out on the little anecdotes, the tone of voice, the detailed descriptions that the big brass don't want to know. Maybe it's just the personal touch, but she wants to know about the Abydonians. Jack doesn't speak much about Abydos - the memories are wound up with other, more painful memories of Charlie and the black despair he lived in and hoped to end with Abydos. With years between then and now, he can look at it with a softer haze of time over the pain. He can examine the actions of the desperate, angry, bitter man he was and wish that he'd had enough vision to see that life would go on and his world would change. The other Jack O'Neill, bitter and scarred, could not have imagined that he would sit on the roof of a house under the stars with his two best friends chatting about another world. He could not have imagined that one of them was the 'geek' who so enraged him that first trip through the Stargate, nor that the other was a female soldier-scientist who he now firmly counted as one of the people closest to him. Jack's glad that he's not the other man anymore. There's more hope living this way. Prodded by Sam, Daniel's in a rare mood of reflection about Sha'ure. He doesn't often speak about his now-dead wife, but usually lets the loss in his eyes say volumes for him. Plying him with questions about life after the Stargate closed, Sam is rolled up in her sleeping bag, her head on her arm like a child being told a bedtime story. Daniel's sitting there with his back to the wall, reminiscing with remembered joy in his eyes. "Early on, Sha'ure told me she couldn't understand why I stayed with her. I told her I loved her, and she was even more bewildered at that." His smile is wry, "She wanted to know why I loved the daughter of a simple priest, when I was clever and handsome and strong…" Sam's smile in the semi-darkness is gently amused, but Jack snorts, "She obviously didn't know you real well, Danny-boy." He earns a look to level Goa'uld motherships from Sam, but Daniel just smiles. "Maybe she didn't, either. But I told her I loved her because she was Sha'ure. It was that simple, and that complex." And the expression on his face says how simple and how complex it was. "Love doesn't work on merit," Sam murmurs, long lashes veiling her eyes. "You don't love someone because they fit your idea of perfect. You love them, and your notions of perfect change." Then the lashes sweep up to reveal a deep blue gaze looking directly at Jack, and something quivers between them. Seeds of potential uncurl within him, pushing tiny leaves up to warm sun, and he can't look away. He's always known she means more to him than she should, but until tonight, he didn't know how much. If Sha'ure ever looked at Daniel like this, then no wonder he travelled across the galaxy to find his wife with an intensity that seared him from the inside out, and left him scarred. The realisation trembles within Jack for a moment, because Daniel and Sha'ure had been safely on Abydos, and Sha'ure had still been taken from his friend. He could lose Sam so easily and never have even had her. Their gazes continue to mesh, and as they do, Jack is abruptly aware of the truth. He has everything of her, even now. Her friendship, her respect, her loyalty, her affection, her love. What is between them doesn't need to be said, as long as it's understood. Yes, they have a job to do together, and no, it isn't easy. But nothing worth having is ever easy. And, like his friend, he'd travel through a galaxy to find Sam Carter if she was lost to him. Daniel keeps talking, softly reminiscing, completely unaware of the communion between his friends. Sam draws her gaze away from him and looks back at Daniel, and after letting his eyes linger on the smooth curve of cheek and cheekbone a little longer, Jack turns to listen, too. Later, much later, Daniel's drifted off again, and the confines of his sleeping bag are keeping him from sprawling over Sam, but he's still tossing and turning. Sam's been quiet for a long time, probably asleep as she clutches the pillow under her cheek. Jack crawls over to his own sleeping bag and slides in, glancing over at her from time to time. Her eyes open, drowsily, and she tilts her head to look at him watching her. Warmth glows in her eyes - just for him, and she smiles and snuggles deeper into her sleeping bag. "G'Night, sir." "'Night, Carter." * |
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