TITLE: Communion

RATING: T

SUMMARY: After an incident off-world Sam and Jack find themselves struggling with a unique and very definitely shared problem. The search for a solution to that problem leads SG-1 into another galaxy hopping adventure. Set in Season Two. Sam & Jack UST although this is more action/adventure with a large side order of ship.

SPOILERS: S2's The Fifth Race

FEEDBACK: Yes please! I don't do so well in a vacuum, so let me know what you think; good or bad.

DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and the characters are the property of MGM and the production team. There is no infringement intended and no profit made.

THANKS to Lysa, my wonderful beta!

NOTE: This is probably the last of my old fic that I can post here as the rest are too high in the rating. In fact, this one would be if I wasn't planning on editing the single only scene that is NC-17. If you do want to read that high rated version, I'll leave a link at the end of the story to the other archive were I plan on hosting it. Enjoy!

At first glance the planet looked remarkably like Abydos. Only instead of an enclosed stone structure they and the stargate were out in the open. The MALP had trundled a few feet away from the gate and then stopped. Beyond the squat grey machine and as far as the eye could see, sand dunes stretched and shimmered in the heat from the baking sun.

Adjusting his cap to shield his face, Jack turned at the sound of the worm-hole disappearing and checked the other three members of his team had re-materialised in proper order; as in two arms, two legs and their heads on their shoulders and not peering out from their guts.

He had a 'thing' about technology malfunctioning when he was involved. The problem from his point of view being that the stargate wasn't a TV stuck on the Discovery channel. Satisfied on that score, he levelled a look on his 2IC who correctly interpreted it as a prod to double check the planet's atmospheric conditions. He trusted the MALP to get it right maybe half the time.

Reading from the hand-held sensor in her hand, she wandered over to the MALP, saying, "The air's good, radiation is well within acceptable limits and there are no discernable radio transmissions to indicate technological activity, sir."

That was good enough for him. "Okay, kids, let's get our butts in gear and find that temple. If we make good time and I get home before The Simpson's starts you all get brownie points…and maybe a cookie."

"Oh, goody." Standing on the platform, Daniel pinched his nose to quell a tickle and hopefully a sneeze. "How far did we think it was again?" he asked, a little nasally.

"From the UAV's flight path, we've extrapolated the approximate distance to be four clicks from the 'gate," replied Sam, straightening up from a brief survey of the MALP's other sensors.

"A walk in the park," quipped Jack, putting on his shades as he set off after Teal'c who was already striding confidently over the sand.

Hot, sweaty and covered head-to-toe in a dusting of gritty sand they found the structure they were looking for at the distance suggested by the UAV. Having found themselves in hot water before when approaching supposedly abandoned settlements, the four of them lay atop of the nearest sand dune and waited while Jack checked it out with his field spy-glass.

Set in the middle of nowhere and with no cover once they left their current position, Jack felt antsy enough to give the single-story stone structure a thorough inspection. On its roof was the engraved symbol that had gotten Daniel so excited about this planet. Excited wasn't an exaggeration. The second he'd seen it and as grainy as the picture had been, the archaeologist had jumped up from his seat and started jabbering on about the ancients.

"Jack?" Daniel now prodded impatiently. "There are no tracks in the sand. Doesn't that tell you anything?"

Colonel Jack O'Neill ignored him for a few extra beats purely on principle. "Well sports fans it doesn't look like anybody's home," he finally announced. Getting up and dusting off, he said, "Okay, Daniel, you're in luck. Let's go see if they left any nice surprises behind. I emphasise nice by the way. No more brain dumps."

"I'll be sure to remember that."

Inside and given the darkness after the too bright sunshine, it was eerily familiar. "Is anybody else getting a feeling of deja-vu?" asked Carter, her blonde head turning this way and that as her voice echoed.

"If you mean the heebie-jeebies, I'm right there with ya'," said Jack, keeping half an eye on the floor for some kind of trigger such as the one they'd accidentally tripped on P3R-272.

Tense under his desert camouflages, he kept a firm grip on his MP5 and Daniel's casual reading of his mind, saying "Relax, Jack. I doubt this place has the same function as the one on P3R-272," had no effect whatsoever.

Shrugging irritably and doing his damndest to keep both him and Carter in his line of sight, he shot back, "Whatever. Just hurry up will ya. I don't like it in here. Sue me!"

"I can't see this taking very long, colonel," piped up Carter. She was sifting through some sand that had gathered in one corner and having said that swept another look around the square chamber with its charcoal grey marble-like floor. "There doesn't seem to be anything here. Not even markings on the floor."

"It is perhaps just an empty abandoned building," suggested Teal'c, reduced to craning back his head to inspect the ceiling for anything remotely interesting. "I suspect this journey has been a waste of time and effort."

"Hey, we just got here," Daniel protested, hands on hips and spectacles glinting in the meagre light spilling in from the doorway. "There's got be something…" he trailed off dispiritedly at the obvious lack of anything.

"Why?" argued Jack, still getting an itch between his shoulder-blades about the place. "Maybe the ancients had turned over a new leaf and stopped littering the gallery with their…I dunno…cast-offs."

The words were hardly out of his mouth before Carter announced to the chamber at large, "Guys, I think I may have found something."

Jack whirled; thinking he couldn't let her out of his sight for a single second. "Damn it! You just had to go and say that didn't you. Admit it, you love contradicting me," he charged, aggrieved.

Carter was on her knees in the same corner. Only now she was fiddling with the stone wall. "Sorry, colonel," she replied with a quirky, sideways smile. "I just pressed something and hey presto!"

One of the sandstone bricks had begun to open with a scraping, grinding sound. Cautious and watchful, the others gathered around her to peer inside the small square space slowly being revealed.

Daniel, on the ball for once, shone his flashlight to better see the metallic wishbone-shaped device laying on the bottom. It was all on its lonesome. Jack's eyebrows climbed. It looked harmless enough. At least there was nothing to leap out and latch onto your head with here. Squatting down behind Carter so the Jaffa could see it, he asked, "Hey, T, you ever seen anything like that before?"

"Never," he replied without hesitation. "I am unfamiliar with this device, O'Neill."

"If it is a device." interjected Daniel from beside the tall, muscular Jaffa. "It could just be decorative."

"In which case we're back to this trip being a waste of time," suggested Sam and casting a questioning look at the colonel, she asked, "Shall I remove it, sir?"

Mobile lips twisted with a grim mixture of resignation and acceptance, "Yeah, go ahead. Just be careful."

"Always am," she muttered and reached gingerly inside.

Whatever anyone had been expecting it wasn't for her to go into spasm and be thrown backwards hard enough she crashed into O'Neill. He in turn tumbled back into Teal'c's legs; who then stumbled a few steps backward before he could check the motion.

Stunned into immobility the men of SG-1 watched as blue tendrils of energy engulfed the writhing Captain. Horrified, Jack reacted first and recklessly lunged to snatch the device out of her hand. Only, when he touched the second of the two prongs, he went into spasm, too. Pinned by its power, his back arched and Jack's last thought was that his damned spine was about to snap. Then he passed out, slipping into blessed oblivion.

Jack came too with a groan. Blinking to focus and raising an arm that felt like a lead weight, he pressed a finger and thumb into his eyes. As he did a frisson of something akin to awareness skated over his body; raising the fine hairs on his arms and legs. Turning his head on the pillow to peer over to the next bed, he met Carter's searching gaze when she turned his way at the same time.

As quickly as his sluggish brain would allow, he catalogued the details of rumpled blonde hair, unmarked skin and intelligent blue eyes in a pale piquant face. "Carter?" he rasped, "You okay?"

"I think. You, sir?" she croaked back.

"Don't ask," he replied feelingly.

A blurry shadow moved nearer the beds and a deep voice boomed, "They are awake, Dr Frasier."

Realising they were back in the infirmary at the SGC, Jack wasn't in the least bit surprised to find Teal'c stationed at the foot of their beds. And, a second later to see Daniel careen in through the double doors with steaming coffee sloshing out of a mammoth sized mug.

"You're awake," Daniel said, coming to a stop and stating the obvious. "Good, I was worried."

"We all were," said a smiling Janet Frasier. Wearing a pristine lab coat and a pen-light tucked in her ear under thick dark hair, the bases pretty and popular medical doctor made her way towards them with the usual clipboard in small, neat hands. Stopping by Sam first, she shone the penlight into her eyes. "So, how are you both feeling?"

"Okay, I guess," said Sam uncertainly.

"Fine, fine," Jack lied, adding "peachy keen in fact."

Used to his tricks, Janet Frasier levelled a knowing stare on him, "You're not getting out of that bed until I've thoroughly checked you out, so don't even start on me, colonel."

Giving up with a grimace and two surrendering hands in the air, he settled back and vented just a little on his usual suspect. "Daniel, what did I tell you about nice surprises?"

Perching on Sam's bed with a smile on her direction, Daniel sipped nonchalantly at his mug and met Jack's challenge with his usual aplomb. "I didn't leave a tip if that makes you feel any better."

Squinting when the light was shone into his own dark eyes, Jack replied sarcastically, "Oh yeah. A whole bunch."

"I do not believe Daniel Jackson can be held accountable for the unfortunate reactions of the device to being touched," stated Teal'c, just as another man strode through the double doors.

Short, bald and stout in his crisp short-sleeved blue shirt, General Hammond still had an aura about him that made every airman under his command stand up straighter when he approached. He was a rarity in that he didn't need his rank to command respect.

"Well, it's good to see you both awake and alert," he smiled, not completely successful in hiding his relief. "You had us all worried," he added unnecessarily.

"So the doc here said," replied Jack with a grim smile. "Think of it this way, sir. We wouldn't be us if at least one didn't get zapped by an alien gadget of some description."

Amusement spread over his ruddy face as Hammond smiled a wry acknowledgment. "At least this time you all seem to have come out of it unharmed. That's a big plus in my book, colonel."

"Do we know what happened exactly?" asked Sam, pushing herself up on her hands. "The last thing I remember is picking up the device and then feeling like I'd been stunned by some kind of electrical charge."

Oh here we go, thought Jack. Let's analyse the thing to death while I still have needles stabbing into my skull. Geeze, who the hell cares? We leave it the hell alone and move onto the next planet.

A direct blue stare pinned him. "I disagree, sir," Carter stated bluntly. "The gadget as you call it obviously has some purpose. I think finding that out is definitely worth the time and effort."

There was a perplexed pause. "Sam?" queried Daniel gently, "Jack didn't say anything about not investigating it."

She blinked and bounced from one baffled face to the next. "Yes he did," she refuted and looked to the colonel for confirmation. What she found was the picture of a dumbstruck man caught out on the proverbial hop. "Sir?" she queried uneasily.

"Colonel O'Neill didn't say a word, Captain," said Hammond glancing at Dr Frasier only to find her wearing her 'uh oh, this is very wrong' expression. "Don't tell me I spoke too soon."

Jack cleared his throat and admitted with a wince, "Carter's not imagining things. I didn't say it, but I did think it."

"Oh," said Daniel, drawing the single syllable out.

Stood at the foot of Jack's bed, Teal'c eyebrow lifted to new heights. He had no problem pointing out what no-one else wanted to. "It would appear that Captain Carter can hear O'Neill's thoughts."

"Oh well, on the bright side at least she won't get bombarded," quipped Daniel into the heavy silence that followed.

There was a wet ring on the briefing room table from his coffee mug. Slowly swiping it away rather than giving his attention to the head of the table, Jack wondered irritably why he felt a weird impulse to change his seat. Normally, he wouldn't give it a thought except the seat in question was right next to a major part of his current acute embarrassment.

The word 'thought' had him shutting it out and listening in instead. Seated next to Hammond with files spread out before her, Doc Frasier was yakking on about the tests they'd been put through. "…Nothing on the scans to indicate any abnormal brain activity and blood work comes back completely normal. The next stage would be to do PET scans on them both. They're much more thorough and would give a clearer picture of what might be going on."

At the head of the table, General Hammond looked as pensive as pensive could get. "Do it, doctor," he ordered and then turned to Jack. "Colonel, SG-1 will stand down until we get a handle on this situation." The way he said it suggested he knew the kind of reaction that news would garner.

Jack hated to disappoint. Sitting up from his disconsolate lounge and trying to contain his frustration, he said, "General, with all due respect is that really necessary?" He didn't wait for a reply, "I mean sure, Carter managed to read me…so what? I'm not exactly a closed book most of the time anyway." Annoyed enough to let politeness slide, he then waved a dismissive hand at Dr Frasier, "this stuff…it's all bunkum. I'm no more telepathic than you are, sir."

Unfazed, Frasier's lips curved into a wry smile and next to her, Hammond's gaze softened. "Normally, I'd agree with you. But we've seen enough weirdness come through that gate that I have to make sure." He raised a quelling hand to forestall more argument. "Captain Carter is 100 certain she heard you; clear as bell, say something that you did not speak aloud. Given the incident on P2K-241 that warrants a few alarms as far as I'm concerned."

Jack knew he was fighting a losing battle, but felt compelled to try anyway. "Sir, it was a one-off. I sure as hell haven't had mathematical formulae floating around my skull."

"It would be nice to be able to confirm that," said Hammond and Jack's gut sunk at the glimmer of 'gotcha' on his superior's face, "but, Dr Frasier here tells me you've been avoiding any and all meetings with Captain Carter since you both woke up this morning."

Oy! Busted, Jack grimaced and scrubbed a hand over his hair. "Avoiding is a bit strong, sir. I've been busy is all. I had paper work and er…stuff to catch-up on."

"Good to hear, Colonel." Hammond's lips twitched. "I'll expect the back-log of reports to appear on my desk just before you report to med-lab 1 for some tests…at say, 1600 hours…" The second pause was deliberate. "…with Captain Carter in attendance, too."

From across the table, Carter's agreement was instant and business-like. Catching an unusually silent Daniel's sympathetic glance, Jack's fake smile stretched wide. "That suits me fine, sir."

Lying on a gurney with wires trailing from the small pads on her forehead, Sam was fretting and no matter how many times she told herself she couldn't have known; she deeply regretted that scene in the infirmary that had led to the team being stood-down from active duty. A state of mind not helped by the fact that it didn't take a psychic to tell Colonel O'Neill was steamed about it and then some.

A few ft away and in the process of being attached to his own monitoring equipment, O'Neill fidgeted under Frasier's efficient hands. Distracted, she put her own interpretation on it and not for the first time, Sam wondered if the colonel was attracted to the very pretty and bubbly doctor.

His brief and starkly disbelieving look cast in her direction cut into her musings and Sam felt her eyes go wide and face drain of colour. Flushing, she jerked her head around on the pillow to stare blindly at a bank of cabinets.

Oh crap, he'd heard her?! Had he- could he?

Still struggling with the idea of telepathy actually being possible, never mind having that ability herself, Sam immediately began to doubt herself. That first time could have been a fluke. Like O'Neill had suggested in the briefing, she may have seen his expression and put her own spin on it. Meaning that still confused from being unconscious, she'd only thought he'd spoken out-loud.

Of course that only made sense if that look he'd just given her was nothing more than co-incidence?

"I freakin' wish!" interjected, O'Neill.

Okay, this time she'd definitely not imagined that aggrieved tone. Whipping back with the question already forming on her lips, Sam was silenced by a single, warning finger raised between them and hidden from Frasier; busy fiddling with the EEG monitor on his left.

"You can hear me?" she asked, and had to stop herself from mouthing the words as well as thinking them.

"Uh, yeah!" he shot back, and slid a dark look in her direction, "And, no, I don't have the hots for the doc." As only he could, the colonel turned it back on her and an evil grin briefly curved chiselled lips, "Personally, I go for blondes."

Sam could only stare in shock. She'd heard every word and this time she knew beyond doubt that he hadn't said them. Well, that certainly settled any questions of authenticity. If that wasn't enough to send her reeling, what he'd overheard sure did. Oh God! She'd been caught speculating on the colonel's sex-life; by the man himself. Oh, why didn't the floor open up and swallow her? She wouldn't resist.

"Sorry, sir, it was just an idle thought." She didn't take his last comment seriously, figuring it was just some harmless payback.

"Your thoughts are never idle," he countered, "And that's a problem right now, because I don't fancy being locked up and observed for weeks while they figure this out. Blank your mind, I will, too and lets hope we can fool them for a bit."

Luckily for them both Frasier chose that moment to go in search of something missing, because Sam goggled at the thought, "You want us to lie?!"

"When was the last time earth technology was able to reverse the effects of alien technology?" O'Neill asked, knowing she knew as well as he did that the answer was a big fat zero. "I want a chance to fix this before the talk starts about being compromised and put back out to pasture- both of us."

Sam felt uneasy. "I don't know, sir. Would that really happen-?"

"Forty eight hours, Carter, and you can blame me."

The click clack of heels getting closer beat a tattoo on the hard floor and heralded the return of Janet Frasier. With their silent communication cut off, Sam was left to fret over something new. Coming back with her usual bustle and stepping between the two gurneys, she smiled reassuringly at them both. "Okay, I think we're firing on all cylinders now. Are you ready?"

"So, neither of you have been 'hearing' each others thoughts?"

"Nary a peep sir," grinned, Jack and studiously avoided catching Carter's eye.

"Doctor?" queried Hammond.

In response, she spread her hands and shrugged, saying, "The PET scans did show some small increase in neurological activity, but not enough to really cause concern. Stress or over-stimulation can cause similar reactions. As for the EEG there was no evidence of either, Colonel O'Neill's or Captain Carter's brain waves even approaching a match."

"So, what you're saying is we may have been worrying for nothing?"

"It's certainly a possibility," agreed Frasier and smiled when Jack sat back with his arms raised in celebration before folding the hands behind his head. "Don't get too excited, Colonel. I'm still going to recommend you both be put under observation for forty eight hours."

"That's okay, doc." Success, even as limited as it was, made Jack feel expansive. "Somehow, I just knew you were gonna say that."

An observant and astute man, Hammond settled his steady gaze on the other woman sat at the briefing table. "It's unlike you to be so quiet, Captain. Is everything all right?"

"Fine, General, thanks for asking," she replied steadily. Then taking a deep breath, continued, "But, I would like permission to work with Daniel on the alien device."

As she'd expected the bald head shook a negative, "You've already been exposed once. I won't risk a second."

Leaning forward with her hands clasped on the table, a resolved Sam pressed her case. "Sir, every possible precaution is being taken and believe me nobody knows better than I do what the risks are of touching it. I won't let it happen again."

Hammond appeared to think it over and she didn't need to point out she was the only person on the base qualified to undertake such a scientific investigation. Finally, he nodded albeit reluctantly and said, "All right, Captain, you have my permission. But if I even suspect you, or anyone else is being adversely affected, I'm sending that thing back to where it came from."

Twenty four hours into the ascribed forty eight, Sam shoved away the plate of food and dropped her aching head into cupped, waiting hands. Kneading with firm strokes of her fingers, she tried massaging away the thumping pain. She hadn't seen the colonel for; tiredly, she checked her watch, seven hours now and her head was empty of any thoughts except her own. So, why did she feel so horribly out of place and off-kilter?

It couldn't be the device because Daniel had been with her the whole time, as had O'Neill and Teal'c for a large part of it. None of them had seemed affected. But then neither had she until hours after she'd come back to her assigned quarters and the headache had set up shop behind her eyes.

Thinking it might be hunger from skipping both lunch and dinner, she'd sent one of the airmen standing outside for a plate from the commissary; the same plate that now sat congealing in the centre of the table. So much for that idea.

Worse, the smell of melted cheese and grease was making her sick to her stomach. Thinking about summoning the necessary energy and willpower to take it back outside to be dumped, Sam aimed a frown towards the door when a firm knocked sounded. Composing herself, she called out for her visitor to enter and was startled to see the colonel enter and shut the door behind him.

He looked as bad she felt. That wasn't a good thing at all. Concerned, Sam went to stand, asking, "Sir, are you okay?"

He must have assumed she was uneasy over the hour and place of his visit. He flapped a hand at her and began to prowl around the edges of the small room. "At ease, Captain, I couldn't sleep and figured we needed to talk."

Sinking back to the seat and despite the frame of mind she was in, Sam found it vaguely amusing, and not to mention revealing that it hadn't occurred to him that she might have been asleep. Her reputation for being a night-owl was obviously firmly established. "Sure, fire away," she said simply.

He didn't take her up on the offer immediately. In his standard issue black tee-shirt the tightly bunched muscles of the colonel's shoulders and arms were visible evidence of strong, negative emotions. Sam was taken aback. Wow! He was seriously tense and this from a man who rarely batted an eyelid at anything, no matter how bizarre.

The idea of actually trying to reach out and read his thoughts occurred to Sam, but two things stopped her. First was the possibility that she might not like what she found, and the second was the moral issues they seemed to be helpless to avoid. Right now, she was getting nothing and there was a certain comfort to be had from that fact.

However, his agitation added another layer of surrealism to the situation they found themselves in. Gradually, O'Neill's prowl slowed and Sam found she had more than enough patience to wait him out. Soon enough, he shook himself; much like a big, agitated cat and consented to pull out a chair and flop into it. Long legs spread out and hands clasped over his middle, he met her questioning look and pulled a face, "I've been feeling a little tense," he admitted.

"I kind of got that already," Sam confessed. "What's on your mind, colonel?"

Revealingly, he rubbed two fingers through the crease between his brows and said, "Right now, a boulder swarming with sadistic pixies wielding pick-axes."

Wincing in sympathy Sam tapped a finger at one throbbing temple. "You, too, huh? I was thinking more along the lines of a pitch battle complete with aerial bombardment."

"Nice," said the colonel. Then noticing the lack of a busy hum emanating from the laptop beside her arm, said semi-seriously, "it must be bad if it stops you from working through the night. I half expected to find you at the lab."

Sam felt a spurt of guilt although she knew he hadn't been complaining. "I've gathered all the data I can from it; energy readings, composition and the little we've managed to garner from some scans, but analysing it will take time. I can show you what we have so far-"

His hand reached over the table to gently close the laptop before she could switch it back on. "You'll figure it out," he told her, "but tonight. You look beat, so leave it."

"I am beat, or at least I was," she admitted and wondered why the headache was finally easing up now when two doses of strong painkillers hadn't so much as touched it. "For some reason I feel better now."

Pushing up from his slouch, the colonel appeared thoughtful and drummed his fingers on the table. Head cocked while he did some internal assessment, he said slowly, "Now you mention it, I feel better, too. Not exactly the hills are alive better, but…better, ya know?"

Damn, I suck at explaining things.

"It made sense to…" faltering, Sam realised he hadn't actually spoken that last sentence. "Ignore that last."

Getting back to his feet to pace again, he shoved his hands in his pockets and asked with exasperation in his voice, "I don't get it. Why only sometimes and when we're in the same room together. When I was in the lab with you and Daniel working on that damned thing all I was getting was a buzz, like a busy signal." He paused to grin. "I did get the occasional phrase though and Carter, I admire your skill for cussing while you work."

What else could she say except, "Thank you, sir."

"So, any idea floating around that Nobel Prize winning head of yours?"

"Not really." Sam spread her hands in a helpless gesture. "Parapsychology isn't my field and before now I thought it was a load of crap if I'm honest. My best guess would be that whatever brain waves we're sending and receiving require close proximity and a mind not concentrating on something else."

His lips pursed. "Makes sense I guess."

Not that it helped them much.

They'd both had the same thought at the same time. In tandem they cleared their throats and Sam dropped her gaze to fisted hands. Sensing him come to stand next to her, she looked up and felt the snakes coiling inside her loosen at the sombre, resolved expression on the colonel's face. "Will you stop worrying. I don't doubt for a second that between you and Daniel, you'll figure this out and we'll get back to normal." Then rolling his eyes, he amended it to, "As normal as life at this place gets anyway."

Unwilling to be placated, Sam nodded her thanks, but guilt forced her to admit, "I should have been able to concentrate better. I don't know, why but I'm struggling with the most basic of things; stuff that should be second nature to me. After you left today-"

In the middle of her guilt-trip a large hand settled on her shoulder and squeezed. Sam fell silent and had to swallow hard to moisten a suddenly dry mouth. At that innocent touch it was like something missing clicked into place. Caught both by dark eyes and the heated tingles racing out from where that hand lay, she felt the last of the headache drop away as if by magic.

"Carter," he said in gruff tone. "Do you know what your problem is? You're too darned hard on yourself. I have faith in you, we all do. Cut yourself some slack and accept you're human and not a machine." The hand lifted to wave at the pristine bed cover. "Get some rest and if I have to I'll make it an order."

Strangely comforted, she smiled and when he was at the door, called out, "What about you, sir, you need rest, too?"

Opening it wide, he tossed her a grin and a salute, "On my way, Captain."

Stood with his hands in the pockets of his open jacket and staring at the blackboard now covered in squiggles, Daniel felt pole axed. Some of that might have had to do with the fact that he'd only snatched a few hours during the night, but on the whole he attributed it to what he'd just figured out. Or thought he had.

Throwing the chalk in the direction of his desk, Daniel headed for the exit and strode down the corridor towards Jack's temporary accommodation. It was still early, but he figured if he could stay up all night on his behalf, Jack could have his beauty sleep shortened, too.

Patience was never one of his virtues and Daniel wanted answers to some pointed questions.

Ignoring the impulse to give in to his impatience and fling open the door after the briefest excuse for a knock, Daniel opted for a safer approach and knocked firmly and then waited for an answer. Only when there was no answer did he use the handle and opening the door a crack, popped his head in.

It took a few seconds for what he saw to actually make enough sense that it sunk in. Then jaw dropping at the sight of Jack O'Neill thrashing and held tight in the grip of something acute and powerful, he yelled for assistance and dived for the bed and its turbulent occupant. A few seconds later and having no luck in calming the frenzied kick and heave of his friend's body, he tried to latch onto his head and communicate.

"Jack, Jack, can you hear me? C'mon, look at me!"

Glazed, unseeing eyes rolled back to reveal the whites and the head was wrenched from Daniel's two hands by a seizure so strong the colonel's large frame came of the bed in a vicious arch that corded every visible vein.

Yelling as loud as he could for help again, Daniel grabbed the pillow and jammed it back under Jack's head; then tried to free the blanket so it could be wrapped around his body to act as a restraint. Wrestling with man and covers, he was knocked back by a glancing hit from a clenched fist. "Damn it, Jack, you're going to hurt yourself. Or more likely me if you don't get a grip."

"I have him," said a deep and very welcome voice. Teal'c's large hands flattened Jack's body enough that between them they worked the blankets around him. Then out of breath, Daniel ran back out, almost mowing over some SFs who were all looking wild eyed at the disturbance. Grabbing the nearest phone to call Dr Frasier, he gestured them inside with terse instructions to help Teal'c prevent Colonel O'Neill from hurting himself.

Call made and medics on the way, Daniel had time to think. Cheek still throbbing from that glancing blow and numb with shock, he went utterly still as a thought hit that had him going icy cold with horror. Then he burst into motion and instructing another SF to follow him, he sprinted further down the corridor and towards Sam's room.

The infirmary was already in upheaval when Daniel arrived with the second stretcher bearing Sam, who like Jack, was suffering some kind of seizure that wracked her body with ever increasing spasms.

"We need some help here," he shouted towards Frasier who was supervising the transfer of Colonel O'Neill to a proper bed. In one hand she was readying a syringe full of what he guessed was a powerful sedative. The need for sedation was obvious. They had to get them calm and stable before they could try and figure out what was actually causing the fits.

"Move Captain Carter to the next bed," instructed the doctor brusquely to some nurses and SFs. "How's she doing, Daniel?" she asked over the semi-controlled din.

"Not great. She's got the same symptoms as Jack," he answered and taking one arm, he helped get Sam onto the bed. That done, he backed away to let the medics do their job.

Half an hour later Teal'c and General Hammond joined him.

"What the heck is going on," asked Hammond, visibly perplexed and not happy about it. "I thought we'd got passed this and they were doing okay. They said there were no further incidences."

Hesitantly, Daniel offered his opinion. "Given what I've managed to translate from the engravings on the alien artefact, I seriously doubt that, General."

His meaning wasn't lost. Hammond went stiff. "You think they were hiding it. But, why?" he asked bluntly.

"I really don't know. You'd have to ask them that, General," Daniel said and then offered what he hoped was a good enough excuse to limit the fallout. "Who can guess what effects the device may be having on their reactions?"

Forced to stand-by and watch helplessly while two of his best officers thrashed and heaved despite enough sedative to down an elephant; Hammond tried to follow that reasoning. "You're thinking paranoia?"

"More likely irrational behaviour on a limited scale," Daniel corrected.

Body language screaming of fatigue and despair, Dr Frasier must have overhead some of the debate. Coming to report and wearing an expression that didn't bode well, she said sombrely, "None of that will matter if we can't stop the seizures. The human body simply can't hold up against this type of punishment for long. Next they'll slip into a coma and then…" she shrugged and looked lost.

Wracking his exhausted mind for anything that might help, Daniel fairly jumped when an idea occurred to him. If he had time, he could have kicked himself for not thinking of it earlier. Almost incoherent in his rush and grabbing hold of Janet Frasier's arm, he said, "Don't ask me why, but we need to get them closer. Either push the beds together or, even better, put them on the same bed."

Nobody moved.

Daniel felt like pulling out his hair. "I'm serious," he yelled. "They have to be close. It's this thing to do with the damned device."

Janet Frasier's mouth worked with a dozen questions, but the doctor in her overrode confusion. Hammond meanwhile was willing to try anything. "I'd love to know why you think that would help, Dr Jackson, but at this point I'm willing to try anything." That said and nodding at the lurking SFs, he ordered, "Do it."

It was not an easy task considering the restraining straps had to be undone to accomplish it. Stronger than two men of equal size, Teal'c's help was invaluable for keeping Jack still enough so that Sam could be carried over and laid next to him. Practically hopping, Daniel supervised their placement so that they lay face-to-face and pressed from head-to-toe.

When it was done a hush fell over the entire assemblage as they held their breaths and waited to see if it would have any effect. Just when Daniel was beginning to think the idea was a waste of time the pair on the bed began to calm, the intense, uncontrollable spasms reducing very gradually.

A few minutes later they were still enough for Janet to cautiously check their vitals and report a return to something approaching normal. Hands up, she confessed, "Don't ask me how. It makes no sense to me."

"Me either, Doctor." Grim-faced, Hammond turned to Daniel. "I think you'd better explain what it is you found out about that device, Dr Jackson, and the sooner the better."

Jack and Sam were safe, if in for a shock when they woke up. Familiar enough with both the military and Hammond to know how discomforted the man was with putting two of his officers in such a compromising position; Daniel hid his wince behind an earnest frown. "Ah, sure. Let me get my notes and I'll be right with you."

TBC