After Hours

"I know I should be used to it by now, but somehow it always takes me by surprise." Daniel passed Teal'c another bottle of Guinness as they sat around the firepit on Sam and Jack's patio. The four of them had spent the last three hours reminiscing. Laughing. Mourning. Remembering. So much accomplished. Too much lost. Extraordinary things gained. But he'd watched Sam fade as the evening went on. He couldn't blame her. Her first day as CO of Stargate Command was behind her, and, by her account, had gone fairly smoothly. But he could see the fatigue in her eyes and the way she slowly withdrew from the conversation, settling more deeply against Jack's shoulder as the darkness fell. When she'd nodded off and woke with a start, Jack suggested they call it night. Teal'c wasn't tired, though, and neither was Daniel, so the two of them remained by the crackling fire, watching Jack and Sam as they headed for bed.

"I believe O'Neill appears to be quite content, now that General Carter will no longer be in command of the Hammond," Teal'c replied, taking a pull from the bottle. "Although he would never reveal it to her, I know, for a fact, that he often feared for her safety."

"Yeah. Of all of us, she was the one who stuck it out the longest in harm's way."

"Indeed."

There was something in Teal'c's voice. Daniel studied him in the dancing light. The streak of gray that marked his fifty years aboard the Odyssey, had spread. Even after all this time, he refused to speak of what had happened to them aboard that ship. Daniel had stopped wondering about it years ago, but there was a sad undertone in Teal'c's response that, for reasons he couldn't explain, brought that incident back to mind. Fifty years was a long time for six people to share their peculiar form of solitary confinement. Was it possible that-? But no. That would have been as absurd as the notion of him and Vala getting together.

"Well, I'm happy for them. They both deserve this. They've earned the right to finally have a life together on the same planet, after everything they've done to save it, time and time again." Daniel glanced again at Teal'c. "Speaking of which—how are Rya'c and Kar'yn and the grandchildren?"

"They are well indeed." Teal'c's smile was a mixture of pride and contentment. "I cannot tell you how much joy it brings me to know my grandson and granddaughter need never require a prim'tah nor tretonin. They are the first of our family to be truly and completely free."

"After so much was lost—it's good to know that there are still some things that worked out."

"The Jaffa are not the people they once were, but perhaps those of Rya'c's generation will build a new Jaffa Nation that is freed from the hubris of so many of their fathers and grandfathers. I have great faith in their ability to be better than those of us who came before."

"As long as they remember that it was because of you and Bra'tac and others like you that they have that freedom. We have a saying that those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it."

Teal'c looked smug. "It is for that reason that I remain an advisor to the new High Council. I am their living history, and they do well to remember it."

Daniel hid a smile. He could envision Teal'c swatting down any of the younger Jaffa who might become a little too full of themselves. "You sound very much like Bra'tac," he said, instead.

Teal'c gave a nod. "I will take that as a compliment, Daniel Jackson."

The fire crackled and popped, sending a shower of sparks into the night air. They both stared at it for a while, saying nothing.

"What news have you of Vala MalDoran?" Teal'c said, out of nowhere.

Ah. Vala. "Well—" He heaved a heavy sigh. "After she tried running that internet scam out of the SGC—"

Teal'c looked surprised.

"You didn't hear about that? Oh yeah—it was pretty standard. Only instead of saying she was a Nigerian prince, she tried to pass herself off as an Egyptian Goddess…"

"Allow me to hazard a guess: Qetesh?"

"Yup. She raked in about twenty grand, mostly from old people. Anyway. They made her give it back, of course, but after the shop-lifting, and the whole incident with the Colorado Springs Fire Department Widows and Orphans Fund—"

Teal'c's eyes widened.

"Yeah—don't ask. Anyway. Landry'd had enough. He gave her a choice of destinations and sent her on her way. Last I heard, she was dealing in Goa'uld artifacts out of one of the planets formerly in the Lucian Alliance, and doing quite well for herself." He tried not to sound as disappointed as he felt whenever the topic of Vala came up. He'd failed at a few things in his life, there was no doubt. But his inability to turn Vala from her larcenous ways was one of his biggest regrets. The damage was too deep for too long for her to be able to really trust anyone but herself. For a while, he thought they'd made a difference—that she'd felt the safety of their friendship and the companionship of being on the team. But as that team had disbanded, so had her sense of security. He hadn't been able to take her with him when he went back with Atlantis—she would have been bored silly, anyway. Mitchell had tried to corral her as long as he could, but in the end, she'd fallen back into what she knew best. By going to Atlantis, Daniel felt as though he'd somehow let her down—abandoned her. In retrospect, maybe he should have brought her with him. But it was too late now.

"Colonel Mitchell, as I understand, has been given command of the General Hammond," Teal'c said after Daniel had lapsed into contemplative silence. "I am sure he will perform admirably."

Daniel had not heard that, but it made sense. He wondered whose recommendation had made that happen—Sam's or Jack's. Maybe both.

That brought his thoughts back around to the two of them, one more time. It was strange to think they'd been together as a couple longer than they'd worked together as a team. To be honest, he was never quite sure exactly how that all happened. One minute Sam had been set to marry that Pete Shanahan, and then, after Daniel came back from his second stint of ascension, suddenly she and Jack were together. Teal'c had been unclear as to the details too, although he hadn't been the least bit surprised. Daniel, on the other hand, was completely taken aback—although in retrospect, he guessed he shouldn't have been. Sometimes the things that were right under your nose were the most difficult to see.

"Do you ever miss it, Teal'c? SG-1? The way we used to be?"

Teal'c stared into the fire, clearly turning over the question in his mind.

"That time is always a part of me, Daniel Jackson," he said at last. "I am who I am because of it, and I would not surrender that period nor the memory of it for anything."

Daniel could sense the coming caveat. "But-?" he prompted

Teal'c smiled, dipping his head in acknowledgement of Daniel's perceptiveness.

"I am no longer that individual who fought alongside of you and O'Neill and General Carter against the Goa'uld and the Ori. And neither are you, Daniel Jackson. I am grateful that I was who I needed to be at the time, but I would not be that man again, given the choice. And I suspect neither would you."

"No. No I would not." How naïve he'd been back then. His grief for Sha're—his guilt—had driven so much of what he'd done. He'd had no real concept of either the overwhelming beauty of the universe nor the true depth of its brutal cruelty. The idealist he'd been seemed almost childlike in retrospect, as was the false sense of security he'd believed the righteousness of their cause afforded them. That had begun to fray the day Janet Frasier died in his arms until he'd finally accepted that it had been an illusion all along.

"I guess nostalgia always paints the past in brighter colors than it really was," he mused aloud, realizing that there had been a long period of silence in the wake of his last remark.

"Perhaps," Teal'c replied. "Or perhaps it is the radiance of the present which is merely being reflected back upon us."

Daniel smiled. "That's deep, Teal'c. Too deep for me, at this hour, I'm afraid."

Teal'c stood up. "Then I will bid you good night. Sleep well." He bowed slightly and started towards the house. When he reached the door, however, he paused and looked back.

"But know this, Daniel Jackson—although it is unlikely that we shall ever have cause to do so again, I can think of no greater honor than to once again stand shoulder to shoulder with you, O'Neill and General Carter on the field of battle. Of that, you must have no doubt."

Daniel met Teal'c's eyes across the glow of the dying fire. Maybe it was the flickering light, or the quavering of the heated air above the flames, but Teal'c's eyes looked damp and Daniel could have sworn he'd heard a slight catch in his voice.

"I miss it too, Teal'c."

Teal'c's nod was barely perceptible before he slipped through the doorway and vanished.

Daniel tilted his head back and stared at the stars overhead. As a child he'd had a difficult time grasping the concept that the light that made them visible had travelled for thousands and thousands of years. It was his grandfather who had finally explained that the night sky was filled with the light of the galaxy's history.

Which meant that somewhere, on more of those lights than he could count, or probably even see, SG-1's adventures were still yet to be. The light from the day they first stepped foot on Abydos and Chulak and Cimmeria and all those other planets wouldn't reach Earth until long after he and the others were gone. And as that light passed Earth and continued on throughout the rest of the universe, SG-1 would, in a sense, go on forever as well.

Their adventures would truly never end.

It was a strange thing to contemplate, but at the same time, Daniel found it brought him comfort.

Their past was, indeed, the universe's future.

Which had sort of been the point, all along.