AN: Wow. This has taken far longer than I expected. But it's finally finished. If anyone is still reading, thanks for sticking with it. I've enjoyed writing it, and hope you've enjoyed reading it.

- - - - -

Jack watched as Daniel's eye's fluttered open, and then closed again. "Daniel?" he asked softly, but Daniel did not respond.

"He's not really awake, sir," Janine, the nurse taking care of Daniel, said softly. Jack nodded, masking his irritation. He knew Daniel wasn't awake yet- he was just hoping Daniel was aware of his presence. He had resolved to be there when Daniel woke up, and Janet had grudgingly let him into room as soon as the archeologist had been settled. In the small medical facility under Cheyenne Mountain, they typically allowed patients to wake up in their own beds, as they had adequate staffing, and enough critical care trained nurses to allow this luxury. Only when dealing with large numbers of casualties did they keep patients in the designated recovery area. So Daniel had been brought right back to his own bed.

Jack watched as the nurses worked quietly around his friend. He watched as they made sure his Daniel's injured leg was supported. It was wrapped in bandages, so he couldn't see the ugly gash that had been surgically created to relieve the pressure in the tissue.

Janet had finally explained the problem to him, and honestly, he wished she hadn't. The thought of the deep wound, deliberately left open, bothered him. The fracture had been repaired easily enough, Janet had reported, and as soon as the swelling in the tissue was down enough to allow her to close up the wound, either with sutures or with a skin graft, he would be able to go home to recover. How long that would be was unclear, but Jack intended to take advantage of having a captive audience to have a long talk with Daniel. Of course, he would have to wait until Daniel was awake. And coherent. Experience had taught him that while conversing with a drugged Daniel had a certain entertainment value, little else would be accomplished. So conversation would have to wait. For now, he just wanted Daniel to know he wasn't alone.

Daniel's eyes fluttered again, and he turned his head, sighing, before falling back asleep. Jack decided this would be a good time to grab coffee, a quick snack, and a shower. He was only gone for twenty minutes, and when he returned nothing seemed to have changed. Leaning back in his chair to balance against the wall, he settled in to wait. He had a few overdue reports he could work on, but he couldn't summon up the interest. Instead he thought about the NID agent. The man had remained adamantly silent, not even Teal'c's able to pull answers from him. Of course, Jack reflected, General Hammond had put strict restrictions on the Jaffa, and the NID agent had undoubtedly counted on such. Finally, after several long, heated conversations on his red phone, Hammond had ordered the man released. When Jack had protested, Hammond had drilled him with a look. "Trust me on this, Jack," the general said softly, and his tone, and his eyes, had promised that this wasn't the end.

Jack didn't have to wait long for Daniel to wake. Ten minutes later Daniel sighed, turned, and his eyes opened. He blinked, appearing confused, and his eyes drifted closed again. A few seconds later they opened again.

"Hey, Daniel," Jack said.

"Jack?" Daniel asked, squinting in his direction. Jack picked up Daniel's glasses from the bedside table, and gently settled them on Daniel's face. Daniel watched him, and licked dry lips. "Thirsty," he mumbled.

"You can have some water in a little bit," Janine, who had slipped into the cubicle, told him. "You need to wake up a little bit more first." She was carrying a paper cup with water and she dipped a small pink sponge on a lollipop stick into the water, and moistened Daniel's lips with it. He eagerly sucked the water from the sponge. His eyes slid shut again.

"Daniel," Janine prompted gently. "You can go back to sleep in just a minute. Are you in pain?"

Daniel shook his head, not bothering to open his eyes.

"Okay." She took his hand and guided it to the call button. If you need anything you can push this, but I'll be watching you. Now, you can go back to sleep."

Already asleep, Daniel didn't reply.

- - - - - - - -

Unfortunately, the respite was short-lived. The next several days were difficult for Daniel and the rest of SG-1. The deep incision in Daniel's leg was painful, as was the skin graft required to close it. SG-1 took turns staying with Daniel until the pain was well enough controlled that he could sleep through the night. Jack took the bulk of the overnight shifts, doing his best to distract the pain-wracked archeologist. As Daniel slowly improved, Jack sensed the archeologist withdrawing from him. Daniel was unerringly polite, but when Jack tried to steer the conversation towards their last mission, Daniel would claim exhaustion. Finally Jack had given up, vowing that as soon as Daniel was out of the infirmary they would talk.

- - - - - - - - -

Daniel slid gingerly from the seat of Jack's truck, careful to keep his injured leg from bumping the side of the truck. Standing on one leg, he waited while Jack grabbed the crutches from the back seat, and brought them to him. Daniel gave him a quick smile of thanks. Adjusting the crutches beneath his arms, he surveyed the distance to the front door and mentally calculated the distance beyond that to Jack's couch. He could make the distance he decided. It was about the same distance Janet had made him cross to prove he was competent on the crutches. Well, maybe a little further. He knew he could ask Jack to get the folded up wheelchair out of the back of the truck if he thought he couldn't make it. Jack stood by the door, ready to grab the chair, but waiting, not pushing. Maybe, under different circumstances Daniel would have relented, but not here, not now. His pride wouldn't allow it. He didn't want to show any weakness, any need for help, in front of Jack.

It was foolish, he knew. After all, he was injured, and Jack knew it. It wasn't like he was fooling anyone. Moreover, Jack had seen him far more vulnerable than this. Still, on this occasion he couldn't bring himself to accept any more help from Jack than absolutely necessary.

In the days following his 'accident' on the mountain, things had been too chaotic, and he'd been in too much pain, to think about the events that had led up to his been injured. When he'd been bed ridden and heavily drugged he had not been able to think, and then as his recovery progressed and he'd been involved in physical therapy he'd had little time or energy to dwell on the reason he'd been mountain climbing in the middle of a work day. But as his discharge had neared, and he'd had to start planning on going home, he'd had to face the stark reality that going home to his own place was not practical. He could barely negotiate a few stairs; his apartment, with its long flights of stairs and no elevator was out of the question. On top of that, he tired easily, and while he would never admit it, having someone else to do the cooking and cleaning for a few days would make his life very much easier. Still, even though he desperately wanted to get out of the infirmary he would have to stay with Jack. And, much as he'd tried to deny it to himself, he was angry at Jack.

It had taken him some time to realize it. At first he'd been grateful for Jack's, and the rest of his team's constant presence at his bedside. It had been after his recovery had been well underway, and his team had resumed limited missions that he'd begun to notice that whenever Jack came to see him he felt an unreasonable irritation. Although therapy had taken up some of his time, he'd still had plenty of time to think--and to rehash in his mind the events that had led up to his being summarily removed from the team. And as he had played the mental tape over and over again, he had come to the conclusion that he'd been wronged.

He didn't blame Jack for his injury--not really. That had been an accident, pure and simple. And the men that had been hunting him could have done the same thing any time, any where. If anything, the fact that he'd been on the mountain where he'd been able to hide and plan an escape had likely saved him from a worse situation—like being forced off an isolated mountain road as he drove home, or suddenly confronted by strangers during his evening run. No, regardless of the fact that he'd ended up with a mangled leg, the situation clearly could have been worse. He'd been put in a difficult situation, and he'd handled it. What was eating him now was what had driven him to the mountain in the first place-- a desire to escape the confines of the military and the SGC with all the accompanying rules and restraints, and perhaps most of all, a desire to escape Jack with his constant admonitions, warnings, and overbearing concern.

Most of the time he tolerated Jack's need to take control and monitor every detail of every mission. In fact, he appreciated it, even relied on it. But now it was wearing on Daniel. And as he'd reviewed the situation, he'd become convinced that he had done nothing wrong. And he wasn't going to let Jack twist things to try to convince him otherwise.

Jack's attempts at conversation had been politely, but firmly rebuffed. Daniel could sense Jack's growing frustration, as conversational gambits were ignored, and Daniel made every conceivable excuse to avoid talking. Whenever Jack came by Daniel was either in therapy, or getting ready to go to therapy, or resting after therapy. He was always "too tired to chat", or "really concentrating" on work, or doing any of the dozens of other tasks he had manufactured to keep Jack at bay.

But Jack had outplayed him. Before Daniel had the chance to make plans for his release from the infirmary, Jack and Janet had collaborated and arranged for him to go home with Jack. When Daniel had suggested privately to Janet that perhaps he should be allowed to go home alone, she had nearly choked on the coffee she was sipping, and she hadn't bothered to reply. He had tried again with Jack, with even worse results. Jack had laughed out loud. Unfortunately Sam and Teal'c had been present at the time, and they had immediately weighed in on Jack's side. Daniel had surrendered to their combined arguments, but had inwardly vowed that he would not allow Jack to brow beat him into talking. He would keep control. And, at his first opportunity, he would get back to his own place.

"Daniel?" Jack finally broke the brooding silence. "Ready to go in?"

"Sure." Daniel repositioned the crutches and began the laborious process of making his way up the sidewalk toward Jack's house. Immediately Jack was at his side, ready to lend support if needed. On some level Daniel appreciated the gesture, but on another it irritated him. He bit his tongue, hard, and kept himself from saying anything he'd regret. 'Jack is just trying to help' he reminded himself. When they were a few feet from the entrance, Jack finally moved away to unlock the door. Daniel paused, taking a breather, and secretly wondering if he was going to be able to make the last few feet without help. He hadn't expected to be so winded. Jack looked worried, but seemed to sense Daniel's mood and didn't offer help, but remained alert and ready to lend a hand. Daniel negotiated the door jam and then the short distance to Jack's couch. With a sigh he lowered himself, careful to keep his injured leg from touching anything. Trying to get comfortable on the couch that he realized he needed something to support his leg.

"Umm, Jack?" he began.

"Yes?" Jack asked from somewhere down the hall. Before Daniel could answer Jack reappeared with a large fluffy pillow.

"Nevermind," Daniel said, shaking his head slightly at Jack's ability to anticipate his need.

Jack lifted Daniel's leg, and carefully slid the pillow underneath it. He knew the archeologist's leg was still very tender. When Daniel was settled, his leg supported and a glass of ice water at his side, Jack took a seat in his recliner and with a sigh settled into it, taking a swallow of the beer he'd brought with him. His thirst temporarily slated, he stared over at Daniel. Their eyes met for an instant, and then Daniel dropped his. Jack had deliberately not brought Daniel his laptop or any reading material, and he'd even put the TV remote away. Jack was perfectly aware that Daniel had been using every excuse in the book to avoid talking to him. Fine, Jack thought. But he wasn't going to have anything else to do. He leaned his head back and studied the ceiling, letting his mind wander. When several minutes had passed and Daniel hadn't spoken Jack lifted his head to look at his friend.

Daniel had fallen asleep, exhausted from the trip from the mountain. Jack watched him for a moment, and then got up to see what he had in the fridge for dinner. He'd meant to go grocery shopping last night, but he'd been distracted by the hockey game--it had been the Stanley Cup finals--and by the time the game was over he'd been too sleepy. He'd thought to pick up a few staples on the way home, but Daniel's pale face and pained winces when they hit rough spots had convinced him it was wiser to go straight home. Daniel's exhasuted collapse onto the couch had confirmed that he'd been right. But the problem remained--his house was nearly food-free.

Jack surveyed the coupons and advertisements he had accumulated in a drawer next to the refrigerator. Reviewing them, he decided on Chinese. After checking to make sure he had cash to pay the delivery person, he called in the order, grabbed another beer, and made his way back to the living room.

Daniel's eyes were open, and he gave Jack a small smile. "Sweet and sour pork and chicken lo mien?" he asked. "Not feeling very adventurous tonight?"

"Nope." Jack plopped down and propped his feet up. "Some of us don't feel any need for adventure at meal time." He studied his friend. "You doing okay? Need anything for pain?"

Daniel shook his head, and glanced around. "No, I'm fine… hey, where's the remote?"

Jack tried to look innocent. "I don't know. I think I threw it at the TV last night when I was watching the hockey game, and I haven't been able to find it since."

Daniel looked suspicious. "You haven't been able to find your remote? Have you even looked?"

"Haven't had time. I turned the TV off manually, and then this morning I went to work. This is the first time I've been home since. I'm sure it's behind the entertainment center--I just haven't crawled back there yet."

"So look now," Daniel suggested. "Unless you're planning on getting up to turn the channel every thirty seconds, since I know you won't watch a single channel for longer than that."

"Hey! I do too. I'll watch all the way until the commercial," Jack protested. "Besides, I don't feel like watching TV right now."

Daniel narrowed his eyes. "You don't want to… okay, who are you, and where's the real Jack O'Neill?" Daniel's tone was joking, but his expression was guarded.

Jack sighed. He wasn't going to be able to ease into this as much as he'd hoped. "Well, I was thinking… maybe we could play chess."

Daniel's mouth had actually dropped open. "Instead of watching hockey?"

"No game tonight. It's a travel day," Jack told him. "Game four tomorrow. So I thought we'd pass the time playing chess, or gin, or something. Although dinner will be here in about ten minutes, so maybe we should just set up, and then play after dinner."

"Set up?" Daniel asked, glancing over at the pre-set board on Jack's coffee table. "I don't think that's going to take very long, Jack," he commented wryly.

"What? Oh," Jack followed Daniel's glance. "I forgot I'd set that up the other day."

Daniel sighed. Jack was doing his best to be subtle, but failing miserably. And Daniel was determined not to be dragged into a conversation he didn't want to have. "Jack, I'll play chess after dinner, but right now, I'd like to check my email. Where's my laptop?"

"Your laptop?" Jack asked innocently. When Daniel scowled at him, he sighed. "It's in the truck. Do you need it right this minute?" Seeing Daniel's expression he added," Of course you do. I'll get it. But I don't have wireless, and the couch is too far from any of the cable connections, so you'll have to wait until you go upstairs."

"Jack," Daniel shook his head. "You know perfectly well I have a satellite connection. As do you. It won't be a problem."

Unable to think of any other excuses at the moment, Jack surrendered and went to the truck to bring in Daniel's laptop and briefcase. He was just locking the truck when dinner arrived. Gesturing at the young man carrying the bags to follow him, Jack deposited the briefcase and laptop next to Daniel, and then grabbed the money to pay for the meal and a tip off the counter. The young man counted the money, and appeared inordinately pleased with the tip. He gave Jack a grin, and then departed.

"You want to eat on the couch, or at the table?" Jack asked Daniel, who was engaged in firing up his laptop.

"Table, I guess," Daniel replied without looking up. Jack tried not to take it personally. After all, Daniel had been without his work for days. Jack set the table, and then when Daniel still didn't look up, he picked up the crutches and took them to the archeologist. Daniel still didn't seem to notice his presence. Jack leaned the crutches against the couch, and then lifted the laptop neatly out of Daniel's hands, finally earning a reaction. "Hey!"

"Dinner is served, Dr. Jackson," Jack said bowing low, gesturing at the table with a flourish. "Do you need any help?"

"No," Daniel grabbed the crutches and struggled to his feet. He maneuvered over to the table and threw the crutches away from himself with disgust. Turning his attention to the meal, he inhaled deeply. "Smells good."

Jack nodded. "Yeah, pretty good for take-out. Hey, what were you working on?"

Daniel shoved a mouthful of sweet and sour chicken into his mouth without answering. When he'd had a chance to chew and swallow, he said, "Well, I'm looking into creating a primer on different cultures for the SG teams with an emphasis on writing samples. Most places we go we find writing, sometimes even before we meet the people. I think it would help the teams if they could identify what Earth cultures the people we encounter came from. It would give them a starting point on how to begin interactions. Try to avoid the big culture faux pas. Of course, since the cultures have diverged it certainly wouldn't be perfect but it could be a starting point-" Daniel stopped mid-sentence. "You're not interested."

Jack felt a sharp pang. His mind HAD been wandering. And Daniel had picked up on it, as usual. It wasn't that he wasn't interested in what Daniel was doing. On the contrary, he wondered what had been occupying the archeologist's time when the rest of the team had been off world while he recuperated. But right now he'd been thinking how he could initiate the conversation he really wanted to be having and his mind had wandered from what Daniel was saying. He tried to make up for it.

"I'm sure if you provide samples, we could get the print plant involved and make a real quality product that the teams could carry with them. Pocket sized, maybe?" Jack suggested. Daniel visibly brightened at the idea. Or was it merely at the fact that Jack was actually paying attention? Jack felt another pang of guilt. He motioned for Daniel to go on, and the archeologist happily rambled on about his plans for the primer. Jack tried not to let his mind wander as he ate the sweet and sour pork and listened to his friend. When Daniel finally wound down, Jack pushed his plate away and said, "Sounds like a good idea. Put the requisition in for whatever you'll need, and I'll get it through. I'm full. You?"

Daniel had been so busy talking he hadn't had time to eat much of his meal. Now, he turned to it and found it more appealing than he'd thought. By the time he was done Jack had cleared the rest of the table, and cleaned up the small mess in the kitchen. Jack took Daniel's plate and asked, "You want anything else?" Daniel shook his head. "Want to play chess here, or you want to get back to the couch?"

Daniel considered. What he really wanted to do was get back to working on his project, but he obviously wasn't going to get out of this. He considered the question. His leg was starting to throb and he really wanted to be back on the couch, but it would be easier to play chess at the table. He decided. "Couch. Can you grab my crutches?"

"Jack," Daniel sighed. "Are you sure you want to do that?"

Jack looked up from the board, and then back down at it, reconsidering. "Yup."

"Okay. Be my guest." Daniel watched as Jack moved his queen. Daniel considered the board. It would take him three moves to put Jack into checkmate. Jack was playing very poorly, and that was unusual. While Daniel could usually manage to beat him, Jack was a more than competent player, if somewhat predictable at times. Today he had been unfocused, making foolish moves. If Daniel didn't know better, he'd think Jack was deliberately losing. Daniel leaned forward to make his move, and as he did so he leaned forward a little too far, overbalanced, and his hand caught the edge of the board that was hanging off the table. The board tipped, spilling the playing pieces.

"Oops."

Jack stared at Daniel, his eyes narrowed. Daniel returned the gaze. "You did that on purpose?"

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did!"

"Didn't!"

"Did!"

"Jack, I was going to checkmate you in three moves. Why would I toss the game?" Daniel asked, all innocence.

Jack considered, and then sighed. "Yeah, you were kicking my butt. I'm not playing too well today."

"That's an understatement."

"I've got other things on my mind, I guess."

Daniel tensed. Jack saw it, but pushed on. "Daniel, we need to talk."

Daniel dropped his gaze, and then lifted it again. "Yeah."

"Daniel…I'm sorry you got hurt. I'm sorry it took us so long to find you. We should have found your car earlier, and should have checked it out completely immediately. We'd have found you a lot earlier. That was inexcusable."

Daniel stared at Jack, his expression inscrutable. He simply watched Jack for so long that Jack was becoming uncomfortable. "Daniel?"

"You think I'm upset because I broke my ankle on the mountain, and it took you a while to find me?"

Jack was puzzled. "Well, yeah."

Daniel gave a dry little laugh that held no humor. "Jack, let me reassure you. I do not blame you for anything that happened on the mountain. And not looking for me in my trunk… well you found me eventually." Daniel shrugged.

Jack watched him. There was no lessening of the tension in Daniel's face and body. "So…"

"What?" Daniel asked.

"So, what you are mad about is…" Jack prompted. When Daniel didn't pick up on the opening, he sighed. "Daniel, what is bothering you?"

"What's bothering me? Oh, I don't know. Maybe the fact that you kicked me off SG-1?"

"Daniel, I didn't kick you off SG-1. You know that. I simply kept you off a single mission. One that I thought was too dangerous."

Daniel exploded. "Too dangerous? Jack haven't you learned anything! Too dangerous? More dangerous than being tracked by armed men?"

"It's not the same thing, Daniel."

"How is it different, Jack? Tell me that, please. Tell me how it's different!"

"Daniel, when we're off-world, your safety, and that of Carter and Teal'c, for that matter, are my responsibility. Mine. And I was concerned that you were behaving in a way that put yourself, and the rest of the team, at risk."

Daniel shook his head in frustration. "How? How am I putting the team anymore at risk than anyone else? And I'm not at any more risk off-world than on Earth. Obviously." Daniel gestured at his injured leg. His words were heated, and his face was flushed with emotion.

Jack took a deep breath. This was not how he'd wanted this conversation to go. They were both becoming angry. Jack took another breath. "Daniel, hold on. Let's start over."

Daniel shook his head briefly and looked down, away from Jack's scrutiny. Jack watched as he took a few deep breaths, composing himself before looking back up.

"Okay, Jack. Bottom line. You don't trust me. You don't respect the fact that I can take care of myself. You think I'm oblivious to the dangers when we're off world. But you forget. I've been taking care of myself for years. I've been on digs that are more dangerous than half the places we visit. And I'm aware of the dangers. It's just that… I don't let the worry consume me. I couldn't function that way, Jack. It would… I just can't work that way. I take responsibility for my own safety."

"Daniel. Listen to me. I've always respected you. Even when I didn't like you on that first trip to Abydos, I respected your knowledge. And since then you've earned my respect, AND my trust in many other ways. Don't doubt that."

Daniel gave a sardonic laugh. "Right. That's why you kicked me off the team. Oh, wait… you didn't kick me off the team. You just won't let me go on the interesting missions, you trust me that much." Daniel was leaning forward, a bundle of intensity. "I certainly can see the trust."

Jack bit down on the snarky reply that sprang to mind, realizing it would only be adding fuel to a fire that had been simmering for a long time. Daniel needed to vent, and with good reason, Jack thought. He'd certainly done enough to create doubt in the younger man's mind, with snide comments and asides over the years. He hadn't meant to undermine Daniel, but in retrospect he realized how he had subtly been eroding the other man's confidence. No wonder Daniel doubted his statement now. Jack had to fix this, but Daniel needed to vent his anger before they could have a real conversation. So Jack bit his tongue, prepared to let Daniel continue. Daniel, however, abruptly stopped.

"I have to get out of here." He was leaning forward, trying to get to his feet. He looked around for his crutches. Seeing they were out of reach, he gritted his teeth and ground out, "Could you please hand me those?" he gestured at the crutches as he stood on one leg. He'd gone pale.

"Daniel, sit down."

When Daniel turned to glare at him before returning his gaze to the out of reach crutches Jack quickly changed approaches.

"Daniel, please. Sit down," Jack said quietly, lifting his hand, placating. "If you want to go home, I'll take you and get Carter or Teal'c to help you out, but please sit down for a minute."

Daniel wavered, indecisive, but Jack could see he was hurting. When Daniel finally sat back down, Jack knew it was the pain that had driven him back down onto the couch, not anything Jack has said. Daniel was watching Jack warily. He was on the couch, but still tense, leaning forward, looking as though he would bolt if he could. Jack lifted his hand and scrubbed it through his hair, sighing.

"Daniel… honestly, I don't know what to say to you. You know how I am. I'm not good at showing people… look, I wisecrack, I joke around. Sometimes I go too far. But that doesn't mean… " Jack struggled for words, and then gave up. If Daniel really didn't know him well enough to understand how Jack dealt with people, dealt with the world, then nothing Jack could say would get through. Jack sank back into a chair, and let his gaze drift outside. Spying his truck, he wondered idly if he shouldn't go get the wheelchair and spare Daniel the trip on crutches. Should he call Teal'c or Carter, he wondered, his mind drifting. Ready to make the call he glanced back at Daniel.

"Jack, I know how you work. I do. But sometimes you take it too far. And this wasn't wisecracking. This was… more." Daniel paused, took a deep breath, and then in a rush said, "Jack, I'm not going to be on the team part time. Either I'm a member of SG-1 all the time, or I'm not on the team. I can't work any other way. I won't. So you need to decide." Daniel leaned back, grimacing as he tried to settle himself back on the couch. He was pale, and looked exhausted. He shifted back on the couch, and then leaned over and lifted his legs onto the couch. Wordlessly, Jack slid a pillow under the injured leg. "Need something for pain?" he asked.

Daniel shook his head. Jack studied him, opened his mouth to speak, closed it, and then opened it again. "Daniel, I'm not kicking you off of SG-1. I want you on the team. You know that. But I can't… I won't let you get yourself, or someone else, killed. Because bottom line is, I'm responsible. So you let me know how you want to play this."

"Jack, you know I can't just… keep silent about what I think. Otherwise I might as well not be on the team.

"I'm not asking you to!" Jack exclaimed, frustrated that Daniel didn't seem to understand what he was trying to say. "I want you to do your job. I WANT you to argue with me…" Jack shook his head, and with a wry grin added, "and I'll deny having ever said that. I want you to keep doing what you do—except once I make a decision, I need you to support it. Sometimes I won't have time to explain my reasons. I don't want to have to always wonder if you're going to follow an order."

Daniel was at a loss for a moment. Jack waited silently. Finally he spoke. "Jack, I take responsibility for my own actions. If something happens to me, it's my own fault. I won't blame anyone. And Jack I'm not foolhardy. I-"

Jack couldn't contain himself. He gave a snort of laugher. Daniel glared at him, but when Jack continued to chuckle, Daniel couldn't help but smile. "Okay, maybe I'm a little… careless at times. But-"

"Daniel." Jack wasn't smiling anymore. "Here's the bottom line. I am responsible for the safety of the team. That means I have to make rules, and there are times I'm going to make decisions you don't like."

"So, it's your way or I'm off the team?" Daniel asked angrily.

"Daniel. I didn't say that. But I do need to know if you can live with those rules."

Daniel was silent for several seconds. He watched Jack intently. Finally he gave a quick nod. "I can try to do that."

"That's all I ask, Daniel." Jack drew a deep breath, and prepared to make an off the cuff comment, some joke. Seeing that Daniel was still staring at him intently gave him pause. "Daniel?"

"I need you to treat me like an adult. I may not be military, but that doesn't mean I'm not capable of taking care of myself. I…"

"Daniel." Jack's voice was quiet, but it cut through Daniel's impassioned speech, cutting the archeologist off. "I know that. If I didn't know it before, I certainly do now."

Jack didn't reply. Instead he went into the kitchen. A minute later he returned with a glass of water and a pill bottle. He handed both to Daniel, who took both without saying a word, and quickly downed the medication. When he was done Jack took the glass and bottle and put them on the table, and then settled himself back into the recliner.

"So that's your final decision? Either you go on all the SG-1 missions, or you want off the team?" Jack asked calmly.

Daniel nodded.

"Well, I guess that doesn't give me any choice does it?" Jack asked.

Daniel swallowed hard, but shook his head.

"Okay. Then I guess you'll be going on all the missions. So next time you want to stay behind to work on a 'fascinating translation' you just remember this conversation." Jack told him.

Daniel looked stunned. "That's…that's it?"

"Unless you have something else."

"No, no. Nothing else." Daniel seemed stunned, and it amused Jack a little to see the archeologist, usually so verbose, at a loss for words.

"Although you are going to have miss the mission we leave on in…" Jack glanced at his watch, "about seventy-two hours. I don't think you'd be able to get Janet to clear you for off-world that soon."

"No, I guess not," Daniel said, still dazed by what must seem a sudden turn of events. "She said at least six more weeks before I'm off the crutches. Jack, you're sure?"

"Daniel. I don't know how to make this clear. I want you on SG-1. I can put up with your… idiosyncrasies, if you can put up with mine. Got it?"

Daniel nodded. He didn't look up at Jack. He appeared to be studying the throw pillow from the couch closely, picking at it's threads.

"You want me to call Carter or Teal'c?" Jack asked. His voice was level, but his insides were in turmoil, as he waited for Daniel's answer. Was Daniel comfortable enough to stay with him?

"Yeah," Daniel replied, without looking up. Jack's heart sank, but reached for the phone. "Ask if they want pizza or Chinese," Daniel added. He looked up and met Jack's gaze, with a smile that finally reached his eyes. "Don't you think tonight would be perfect for a team movie night?"

Jack began to dial. "Yes. I do. What should we watch? The Fugitive?"

Daniel snorted.

- - - - - - - - - -

Epilogue

One thousand miles away in a small apartment in northern California, several men were gathered around a table. While from outside the apartment appeared mundane, inside apartment 203 things were anything but ordinary. Each man had a laptop computer at the table, but that was only the beginning. Security cameras provided views in and out of the complex, and wires snaked across the floor connecting all manner of surveillance equipment, including satellite imagery providing live feed.

"That was a totally blown operation." A tall, dark-haired men commented, leaning back in his chair. "We had the perfect opportunity, and we let it slip right through our fingers." He turned to the man next to him, a short Asian man. "How'd you let it get away from you."

The Asian man looked uncomfortable. His clothes were rumpled, and he was unshaven, the result of having flown on a red-eye flight. He'd arrived at apartment 203 forty-five minutes earlier. He shrugged. "We saw us. Somehow he knew we were after him, and he hid. We were told he was a geek who'd be no problem. We didn't expect him to hide. We didn't have time to really set up an effective trap."

"Excuses. There were two of you," the first man now glared at the taller, silent man who was trying to fade into the background, "trying to catch one archeologist, who was injured for heaven's sake. Incompetence."

"Enough. It's over." A short man stepped from the adjoining kitchen. He was eating a hotdog. The members of SG-1 would have recognized him immediately.

"We might have another opportunity." The dark-haired man who had been shooting glares at his companions finally turned to meet his leaders eyes. "SG-1 is going on a mission in three days. Obviously Dr. Jackson won't be going with them. We could try again."

"No." The hotdog finished, Maybourne licked his fingers. "Too risky. They're on alert now. They'll have him under surveillance at all time. I bet he stays in the mountain the whole time they're gone. No, we'll have to wait." Maybourne smiled, a look that seemed to drop the temperature in the room ten degrees. "I can be a very patient man."

FINIS