Daniel walked slowly down the hall and tried to sort through his feelings, both physical and mental. Physically, he felt like a truck load of shit. His head was pounding, his heart was beating double time, he'd love to upchuck and he craved sleep almost as much as he wanted--needed--the damn light. Needed--Jack. *His* Jack. Which brought him to his mental feelings. Gee whiz.

His steps slowed as he closed his eyes and tried to recapture the sun, the grass and Jack's arms--

The flood of memories nearly overwhelmed him and he swayed, reached out with one hand and braced himself against the wall. This was no good. Daniel tried to staunch the flow of memories because he knew that Jack was waiting for him, expecting him back and God damn it, that wasn't going to happen, was it? Jack was out *there*, maybe even now, searching for him, yet here Daniel stood with no way of ever returning.

The ache in his gut grew, as he pictured Jack's pain and confusion at suddenly having Daniel torn from his arms. Daniel faced the wall and in frustration, began to knock his head lightly against the cool tile. He knew tears were flowing and he couldn't stop them. All he wanted was to feel Jack's arms around him again, to see those dark eyes focused solely on him, to see the love, the affection, the--need.

Need.

Daniel froze momentarily, then lifted his head from the wall as cold fingers gripped his heart.

Need.

Shyla.

The sarcophagus.

"OH, FUCK," his mind screamed. What was happening now was no different than with Shyla. Which meant that there was no garden, no lake--no Jack loving him. There was only his stupid, juvenile, pitying, pathetic, fucking need.

Again.

Could he never get anything right?

Like a rat caught in a trap, Daniel looked frantically about, spotted a dark alcove a few feet away, and hurried over. He sunk down as far into the darkness as he could, wrapped his arms around his knees and resting his head down, he hid.

Jack was pacing and throwing the occasional worried glance at the hall down which Daniel had disappeared. It had been over forty minutes and the only good thing about Daniel's continued absence was that the hall he'd chosen had no exit to the outside.

"Sir?"

"I know, Carter. I know."

"Maybe I should go after him?"

"Carter, if Daniel isn't back in ten, *I'm* going after him and he won't like it when I find him."

"Sir--"

"Don't worry, I won't kick his ass too hard or too far."

"Colonel, we both know you won't kick his ass at all."

"There's always a first time, Major."

Ten minutes later, Jack had taken all the waiting that he was going to. It was time to find his errant archaeologist.

"Carter!"

Sam scrambled to her feet and with a nod from Janet, stepped to Jack's side.

"Let's go."

"Yes, Sir."

Daniel's headache was worse. Maybe he should lie down?

"Any sign of him, Carter?"

"None. He can't have just disappeared, Sir."

Jack stood in the corridor shaking his head. Carter was right, Daniel couldn't have disappeared. Could he? Maybe they'd been missing something? Maybe there *was* someone else here--

No, that was ridiculous. Daniel was here, they'd just not spotted him yet. He flicked on his flashlight, this end of the hall being the darkest, and let it play along the wall and into the recesses of the corridor.

There--in the corner, fingers?

"Sir?"

But Jack was moving quickly toward the alcove and the pale hand--

Jack put the flashlight down and reached in, placing his hands under Daniel's shoulders. He pulled gently, finally receiving some assistance from Sam, who'd dropped down beside him.

"Colonel? What--"

"I don't know, but he's--" Jack's voice trailed off as he maneuvered Daniel into his arms and rested two fingers against the younger man's carotid artery. With a sigh of relief, he said, "He's alive. Go get Janet. Please."

Nodding, Sam scrambled to her feet and took off on a run. As she disappeared around the corner, Jack ran a finger across Daniel's cheek, then down to his jaw. "Aw, Danny, what have you done?"

The three of them stood a few feet from where Daniel lay on his cot.

Jack, his eyes on the sleeping man, said, "So what happened?"

"His BP was 198 over 112, Jack. That means we're looking at what's called a hypertension urgency."

Okay, that was, what, the second time Janet had slipped and used his first name? Not good, which meant that this was very bad.

"I take it that one ninety-eight--"

"Is very bad, yes. I have to get his pressure down now. I've already ordered a drug called Captopril which should lower it appreciably. I'll follow it up with a relaxant to keep him calm and then we'll monitor and pray for the best."

"But what does it *mean*, Doc?"

Janet closed her eyes, sighed, then as she opened them and looked up at O'Neill, she said in a tired voice, "Colonel, we're dealing with hypertension with no discernible cause. When Daniel first started having abnormal readings, I ruled out any physical malady such as kidney disease. And let's face it, Colonel, other than Daniel's habit of working too long and too hard, and his allergies, he's the model of health. Which means that we're dealing with--"

"Stress?"

Janet's gaze moved to Sam as she nodded. "I'd say so, Major. Stress complicated by the addiction."

With his eyes on Daniel, Jack said quietly, "Or the addiction complicated by stress--"

The pounding was gone and Daniel felt as though he were floating. It felt--nice. Maybe that meant--

He opened his eyes to see concerned brown ones staring back at him. A slow grin spread across Daniel's face as he whispered, "Jack."

"Hey, Danny, glad to see you back among the living."

Another face swam before Daniel's eyes and he squinted, then recognized--Sam. The smile faded.

He was in the palace, not the garden and the man seated beside him was Jack but not *his* Jack. He groaned slightly, then let his eyes slide shut.

"That's it, Daniel, go back to sleep."

The pat on his arm wasn't the touch he so desperately needed.

Voices. Whispering but close enough to hear.

"--it's working, his pressure is down to a manageable range."

"What happens now?"

"I continue to monitor him. When he wakes up, I need to ask him--"

Daniel shut them out and drifted away once again.

Daniel was awake, but kept his eyes closed. He was getting tired of waking up to concerned glances.

A hand brushed across his forehead, a heavy hand, calloused--definitely *not* Sam or Janet. Which meant--Jack. Daniel sighed heavily, turned his head, opened his eyes and asked the man once again seated next to him, "What did I do this time?"

Sensing that he'd better not ask how Daniel felt, Jack said honestly, "Nothing. You went for a walk and lost consciousness. Typical Doctor Jackson stuff."

Daniel frowned, trying to remember--

Then he did. Fuck.

"You were wrong, Jack," he said in a hopeless tone. "I am a *complete* idiot."

"I need to know how you were feeling before you--"

"Before I took my little nap in a dark corner?"

Janet nodded as she shrugged helplessly.

"I remember--a headache. It was driving me crazy." He held up a hand and addressed Jack, "Don't say it, Jack. I know, not a very long trip."

Jack held up both *his* hands as he shook his head. "Hey, I'm innocent.

I wasn't going to say a thing. But as long as *you* did--"

"Children?" Janet interrupted. "I'm not done yet."

Jack, looking appropriately chastised, backed off. Daniel's cheeks went dusky red.

"Daniel, did you feel any nausea? Dizziness?"

"Yes."

"And now?"

"Better. No headache. Feel kinda--nice, actually."

"Good, good. Your BP is down to 140 over 90 and while that's still high, it's a vast improvement." Janet rested her hand on his and said gently, "Why don't you go back to sleep and when you wake up, we'll try some soup?"

Daniel gazed at the faces around him and nodded. He felt like a recalcitrant child that everyone had to be careful around. He didn't like it. But he was still tired and another nap would at least keep him from seeing their expressions. Except--

"Why didn't any of this happen during the last two weeks?"

"We don't know, Daniel. It may simply be that this last bout with the--device--"

"I get it." He looked at each of them again and added, "Look, I'm--sorry. I--I'm--"

"It's okay, Danny," Sam soothed.

"It's okay."

He didn't believe her for a second, but he nodded and closed his eyes. He couldn't afford to rock the boat any more this trip, no sir. Besides, now that he knew the truth, he owed them his cooperation.

The next forty-eight hours passed relatively event free. Daniel did everything he was ordered by Doctor Frasier to do; including eating, sleeping and taking a series of medications, among them: vitamins and a mild relaxant. By the time Janet's and Sam's blood showed normal dopamine levels, Daniel's blood pressure was down and holding fairly steady at 140 over 80. Still not good, but as Janet had discussed with Jack, the readings should improve as the addiction waned.

Daniel had been such a model patient over the last hours that Janet had given in completely and Jack would indeed remain behind. He'd become versed in taking and checking Daniel's blood pressure and in the simple task of, as Daniel so dryly put it, "blood letting." Now Janet and Sam stood before the gate, ready to go through, both wanting desperately to stay.

"--at least twice a day, Colonel--"

"Doc? I got it. Go. I'll be in touch."

Janet scowled, which on her looked pretty fierce. "Very humorous, Colonel. In touch. You'll be checking in with me no less than three times a day or so help me--"

"Doc? Trust me when I say that after years of fighting creatures that would put hair on *your* chest, you're still the last person I want to tangle with under any circumstances."

"I knew you'd risen to the rank of colonel for a very good reason, Sir."

The snort behind her caused her to turn and face Daniel who was dramatically rolling his eyes heavenward.

"And as for you, Doctor Jackson? So help me, if you so much as *think* about not doing as Jack instructs--"

Smiling angelically, Daniel said, "Now you *know* that I *always* do exactly what Jack tells me to do, Janet. Every, single time. Without question."

This time the snort came from Jack. And Sam.

Looking not the least bit abashed, Daniel waved a hand and said, "Yes, well. Like Jack said, 'go.'"

"On that note," Sam said with false cheer, "Doctor Frasier and I say farewell and see you both home and safe in a few days."

For a moment, all four stood awkwardly, staring at one another, but finally Sam began dialing home and minutes later, she and Janet stepped through the gate.

As the wormhole evaporated and they were alone, Jack turned to Daniel and waggling an eyebrow, said, "So, buddy, what say we check out that strip joint downtown?"

Eyes still on the gate, Daniel shook his head and said, "Nah, I'm thinking mud wrestling."

*Thwop*

*Thump, thump, thump*

"Thwop*

*Thump, thump, thump*

Daniel looked up from the book currently sitting on his chest and watched the ball bounce its way back to Jack--who immediately threw it at the wall again.

*Thwop*

*Thump, thump, thump*

"Bored, are we?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Gee, I don't know, Jack. You're sitting on the floor and bouncing a red ball against the wall."

"Hey, there isn't that much to do, you know?"

"Jack, it's only been fifteen minutes since Sam and Janet left."

"Who knew I'd miss 'em so much?"

Daniel closed his eyes and let the book drop forward and close. "Jack, call. It would be so simple to send a nurse or airman or something. Just call, all right?"

"I'm staying, Daniel."

"Don't be an ass."

"Can you call your superior officer an ass?"

"As a civilian, yes."

"Oh, okay."

Eyes still closed, Daniel added, "Although, you should know, *if* I were in the military, I'd still call you an ass."

"That's okay, Danny, I'd still *be* an ass."

Jack tossed the ball again and tried to figure out how to help his friend. What could he ask to get the ball rolling (no pun intended--exactly), to get Daniel to spill his guts?

As the ball thudded back to him, so did an idea.

"Hey, Danny, did I tell you what I saw in the light?"

Jack, in his attempt to sound as though he were simply making conversation, completely missed the tensing of Daniel's muscles and the way his jaw clenched.

"My guess would be--naked women on skates, playing hockey."

"No, *that's* what I see when you give me one your lectures."

"Huh-uh."

"Well, don't you want to know what I saw?"

"Not really, Jack. That's between you and your priest."

"Oh, fer cryin' out loud." Jack jumped to his feet and strode to his cot. He sat down facing Daniel and gave his friend a shove. "Come on, you're dying to know. Ask me."

"I am not dying to know, Jack."

"Sure you are. You're a scientist. I'm surprised you didn't ask Sam and I. But now, here's your chance."

Daniel tilted back his head and cupped his mouth. "HEY, SAM, WHAT DID YOU SEE WHEN YOU LOOKED AT THE LIGHT?" After a moment, he shrugged. "Gee, guess she didn't hear me. Oh, well. Guess I'll never know."

"Uh, Daniel? Me." Jack thumped his chest. "Ask me now."

"But I don't *want* to know what *you* saw, Jack."

"Well, since you asked: I saw eyes."

"I didn't ask--" Daniel blinked open his eyes and stared at Jack.

"You saw *what*?"

"Eyes." Looking very superior, Jack changed position and rested his back against the wall. "I saw eyes."

"I see."

"Oh, that was good, Daniel. *I see*. Yuck, yuck."

Daniel grimaced and went back to his book. Jack started tossing the ball into the air. After ten catches, he said offhandedly, "Blue eyes."

The book was slammed shut. Daniel swung his legs over the edge of the cot, then stood."I'm going for a walk."

Dropping the ball on the blanket, Jack jumped to his feet.

"What a good idea. Let's go."

"Alone. I'm going for a walk--alone."

"Oh, I don't think so, Danny. You remember the last time? I have strict orders. Where you go, I go."

"Fine," Daniel said tersely. "I'm gonna take a leak. Care to join me?"

Jack stepped to Daniel's side and said, "You know, you're supposed to be a whole lot more relaxed than this."

Daniel gave Jack an odd look, then said dryly, "I'm just gonna take a leak, not slit my wrists."

With that, he headed to one of the many ornate bathrooms.

Jack watched the rigid back walk away from him. Okay, that had *not*gone well.

Slit his wrists?

*Slit* his wrists?

Jack rubbed a hand over his face. God damn it to hell.

Daniel splashed water over his face, then grabbed one of the towels they'd put in the bathrooms and scrubbed viciously. When his face was dry, he stared at his reflection. He didn't look overly--good. Or healthy. His eyes looked sunken and surrounded by dark circles. His skin was--

Not going there. Just--not going there.

"You're the ass, Doctor Jackson," he said to the man staring back at him.

He'd wanted Jack so badly that it had become a physical ache. He'd wanted the world his mind had created, thanks to the pleasure palace, so deeply that he'd been willing to turn the light matrix back on and risk his life to be with that phantom Jack. All of which made him a fool. And a dangerous one at that.

And now he was stuck with Jack--the *real* Jack--for at least three more days, maybe more. Jack, the man who'd seen only Sam's eyes in the light.

Daniel turned away from the mirror and started back to the main room.

Jack was just popping the top off one of the cans of "goop" as Daniel called it, when he came back from the bathroom. Jack held it out and Daniel ignored it.

"Now, now, you know Mama Hitler will skin me alive if you don't drink this on schedule. Take it, Daniel."

Remembering the reflection that had stared back at him, Daniel turned around, took the can and downed it in one motion. When it was empty, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and dropped the can into the recycle storage container.

"Happy now?"

"Yeah, I am. Now this," and he held out a handful of pills.

Daniel looked at the capsules then at the empty can. Sighing dramatically, he took the pills, threw back his head and tossed them down. Swallowing, he gave a little shudder, then dropped onto the cot.

"Do I have permission to take a nap, O Fearless Leader?"

"You do."

Daniel flipped him off before rolling over onto his side--away from Jack--and closing his eyes.

Jack stood over his sleeping friend and watched the gentle rise and fall of Daniel's chest. Day three and all was not well. He'd accomplished exactly--bupkis. Maybe Doc Frasier was right--maybe Daniel needed professional help. Someone a bit more removed from everything and who could listen and care for him--not that Jack didn't care--he cared too much.

Or maybe Daniel just needed someone to be forthright and honest and to stop pulling punches and start throwing them, verbally speaking. Could he do it? Could he get down and dirty with Daniel? Without--giving everything away?

No, he couldn't. But he was the best man for the job so if everything came out, so be it. When they went through the gate in a few more days, Daniel would receive a clean bill of physical and mental health from Frasier or his name wasn't Jack O'Neill.

Jack lifted up his dog tags, read them upside down, then with a wry grin, let them drop. Always a wise idea to double check one's facts. He returned to his cot, sat, and contented himself with watching Daniel sleep. He was pretty sure that by the end of their internment, he'd be an expert Danielwatcher.
 

The dream was reality and Daniel drifted in Jack's arms. Gentle words, soft caresses and sweet kisses enveloped him in their warm embrace. If he could just stay--
 

Jack stared at the ceiling. He knew day three was over, that it was early morning of day four. Earlier, Daniel had awakened only long enough to eat some soup, then he'd gone back to sleep and Jack had found himself almost glad. It allowed him more time to figure out how to deal, how to *be* forthright and honest.

And as long as he was going to be honest, maybe he should start with himself? Like, when had things gone south between he and Daniel, anyway? And when, exactly, had he fallen in love with Daniel? Oh, hey, that was good one. Let's spend some time with that question.

Okay, so when?

Jack rolled over on his side to face Daniel and as he watched the archeologist's face, easy and young in sleep, he tried to pinpoint the moment or the day, or the second or the hour, that it had happened.

And as his mind drifted, he realized that it *hadn't* happened in a moment or a second or an hour, but rather, had been a slow, *over time* process. He hadn't just awakened one morning and thought, "Hey, I love Daniel Jackson," no, it had probably started something like, "You know, this guy ain't so bad after all and maybe he'd like to go to a hockey game?"

Jack smiled and reached out a hand to Daniel. He brushed his palm over the soft, short hair, then down the stubbled cheek. Finally retreating, he let his eyes take their fill.

Beautiful.

Daniel Jackson was a beautiful man, but then, Jack had noticed that right away, first time he'd set eyes on him. But he'd been mostly dead inside and Daniel's looks had registered on a part of his brain that simply catalogued and stored. But in the year after leaving Abydos, and once he and Sara had made the decision to divorce, he'd felt parts of himself come alive again.

He'd started looking around and amazingly enough, his mind had taken his first glance at Daniel Jackson out of storage. He'd held that vision up and knowing that it was unattainable, had simply let it be a guide.

Jack had enjoyed the next months on a purely physical level. Without the constraints of being in the military to hamper him, he no longer had to settle for top secret encounters. But every man he'd been with had been compared to a nerdy, geeky, allergy-ridden scientist. And while the months had been--fun, the men he'd been with had fallen short.

Then life took another turn and he found himself once again deep within Cheyenne Mountain and tossing a Kleenex box through the gate. And the box came back.

SG-1 had been created, he had Daniel back, but now it was Daniel with a wife and to make matters worse, he was on a mission to rescue her. Which again left Jack appreciating Daniel from that little compartment in his brain that simply acknowledged good looking men or women. Friendship could blossom, but any other feelings had to be nicely tucked away and pushed back as far as possible.

But time and propinquity worked against him, eroded all those nice, safe mental compartments. And thanks to that erosion, Daniel, the man that might enjoy hockey, became, over time, the man who might enjoy having Jack's mouth around his dick. Might enjoy waking up with Jack snoring beside him. Might enjoy eternity with Jack O'Neill.

"Could you, Danny boy?" Jack whispered into the dark. "Could you enjoy eternity with me?"
 

"Would you hold still? How am I supposed to do this if you keep wiggling?"

"You're doing it wrong, Jack."

"No, I'm not. Just stop *moving*."

Daniel huffed a bit, then turned his arm so that the inside faced up. "Geesh, Jack. How many times did Janet show you this?"

"Shut up. I'm pumping."

Daniel shut up.

A few seconds later, Jack nodded. "Not bad. 140 over 75. The doc will be pleased."

Jack patted Daniel on the top of his head, took off the stethoscope and unrolled the cuff, folded it up and put it back in the kit. Then he took out the paraphernalia for taking blood and smiled at Daniel's scrunched up face.

"You're starting to enjoy this way too much, Jack."

Grinning evilly, Jack said, "Yeah, I know." He then swabbed Daniel's skin, wrapped the rubbing tubing around his forearm, then commanded, "Make a fist." As Daniel did, Jack felt for the vein. When he found it, he took the syringe, inserted it just under the skin and undid the tubing. Blood began to fill the vial and when full, Jack pulled out the needle. He stuck a ball of cotton on the small prick and as Daniel bent his arm back, Jack popped the vial, capped it and placed it in the medical box along with the morning's medical report on Daniel.

"At least your blood is still red, Daniel."

"Such bedside manners."

Jack grinned, then walked to the M.A.L.P. to contact base. When Janet's face appeared, he said, "The latest is on its way, Doc. Daniel's BP was 140 over 75."

The screen wavered a bit, but Janet's voice came over loud and clear.

<That's good news, Colonel. As soon as I have the blood results, I'll let you know. And there's someone here who'd like to say hello>

Janet stepped away and Teal'c's face came into view.

<Colonel O'Neill, it is good to see you. How is DanielJackson?>

Daniel, at hearing Teal'c's voice, immediately stood and shouldered Jack aside. "*I'm* fine, Teal'c. How are things on Chulak?"

<They are fine as well, DanielJackson. I am sorry to hear that you must remain on P4X-347. You are improving?>

"Teal'c, I'm stuck here with Jack. Does that answer your question?"

One eyebrow rose as Teal'c answered.

<Indeed, DanielJackson>

Jack shouldered *his* way back into view and said indignantly, "Hey, *I'm* stuck here with Daniel."

<You are, Colonel O'Neill. My condolences to DanielJackson>

"Gee, it's been a pleasure talking with you, Teal'c. Tell me you have someplace to go now?"

<I have no place that I must be, O'Neill. I am at your disposal.>

"Yes, well, it's been nice talking with ya, Teal'c. O'Neill out."

Jack disconnected, harrumphed loudly, then said, "How 'bout a game of checkers?"

Blue eyes stared back at him and the expression on Daniel's face said that he hadn't been fooled.

"Why did you do that, Jack? You could have traded places with Teal'c."

"Excuse me, but haven't we had this discussion already? It's getting old, Daniel."

"God, but you're stubborn bastard."

Jack raised his eyebrow in a nice imitation of Teal'c. "Shame on you, Doctor Jackson. Such language."

"Fuck you, Jack."

"You're not going to get me mad, Daniel. We both know this isn't really you, so give it up."

"Not really me? I'm on a pink pill that keeps me calm, Jack. The withdrawal isn't affecting me now and we both know it. I repeat: Fuck you."

"Uh-oh, I get it. This is a new tactic, right? Get Jack so fed up that he leaves and lets Teal'c take his place? Pul-eeze. That is beneath you, Daniel."

Daniel's eyes narrowed dangerously and Jack gave a fleeting thought to the fact that maybe he'd just pushed a bit too hard.

"You know what, Jack? I'm going--outside."

Jack's jaw dropped. Daniel shoved his way past him and started for the way out. Without thinking, Jack reached out and grabbed Daniel's arm.

"Listen up, Mister. You're not going anywhere. Understood? And you're definitely *not* going outside."

"Don't be an ass. We both know that at this stage, a few minutes outside is tolerable. I'm going."

"No--you're--not."

Daniel yanked his arm away and started walking. Jack let him get halfway, then said, "What did you see in the light, Daniel? And who is *he*?"

Daniel froze--
 

Slowly Daniel turned and faced Jack. The nerve at his temple was jumping and his jaw was clenched tight.

"What I saw or didn't see in that fucking light is none of your business, *Colonel O'Neill*."

"Wrong. It's very much my business. You're a member of SG-1 and anything that affects how you do your job, is my business."

"You know, I can take care of that rather easily and with only two words: I quit."

This time it was Jack's eyes that narrowed. He took the necessary steps to bring him face to face with his friend and in a voice hard as granite, said, "No you *won't* quit, Jackson. Is that clear?"

The tension between the two men could have lit a match. Angry energy flew between them, almost visible, crackling and shimmering.

"Consider it already done," Daniel challenged.

"Resignation refused. Denied. And what--or *who*--did you see in the motherfucking light?" The words were hissed out as Jack leaned in, his nose inches from Daniel's.

"I'm a civilian. You *can't* refuse my resignation. And it's--none--of--your--business."

"And *I* repeat--it is. Cough it up, Daniel."

"I'm leaving."

Daniel turned but once again, Jack shot out his hand and grabbed Daniel's arm. Hard.

"You're NOT leaving. And that's an order and yes, I *am* your commanding officer and so help me God--"

Daniel pulled away as hard as Jack had gripped his arm. The strength behind the move nearly sent him flying but he recovered enough to spit out, "That's a laugh, Jack. My commanding officer? Not hardly."

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SEE IN THE LIGHT?"

Anger now given an outlet by Jack's yelling, Daniel screamed back, "YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW, JACK!"

"I DO WANT TO KNOW--NOW GOD DAMN IT, TELL ME THE TRUTH!"

Daniel stepped back into Jack's space and repeated, his voice lower but urgent with warning, "You really *don't* want to know, Jack."

"I WANT THE TRUTH AND I'M ENTITLED TO IT!"

Angry that Jack wasn't listening, Daniel yelled back, "YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!"

Spit from Daniel's mouth sprayed Jack's face, but he was rooted to the floor by Daniel's words. And his current expression--which was priceless.

Daniel's mouth was opening and closing like a carp and that little ridge of confusion that often appeared above the bridge of his nose was in full bloom. His hands were frozen in midair, eyes locked on Jack's.

Jack broke the shocked gaze by closing his eyes, breathing in deeply, then saying with a rueful grin, "So. Am I a better Tom Cruise or are you a better Jack Nicholson?"

Daniel closed his mouth, took two steps back and dropped his hands as he said, "We've seen that movie too many times."

"Ya think?"

"We need--Demi Moore."

"I'm not into threesomes, Danny."

"Actually--you are. You know the old saying, 'Me, myself and I'? Well, there you go. You, yourself and--um, I, no, you. Um, you, yourself and--"

"You?"

"No, you. For me, it's me, myself and I."

"So for me, it's you, yourself and I?"

"That would be a twosome. And it's 'me, myself and I' for *both* of us. Threesome. Everyone."

"Does that tie in with the whole 'everyone is three people' concept?"

"Yeah. You're who other people think you are, you're who *you* think you are and you're who you really are."

"Me, myself and I."

"I really *need* to go outside, Jack. Please?"

"Let's go."

Compromise, the military way more than anyone would ever admit. Daniel accepted it.

Nodding, he headed to the exit. As he got closer, his steps quickened until he was running, Jack right behind him. His speed wasn't an attempt to get away from Jack so much as the simple need and promise of the sun. He burst through the huge, ornate double doors, out into the courtyard, his bare feet pounding the concrete beneath. Then he hit the sand and his speed increased.

Jack had to really hustle to keep up with Daniel, but keep up he did. There was no way he was going to lose him out here.

For several minutes, they just ran, Daniel's bare feet and Jack's booted ones. Sand flew up behind them, waves crashed against rocks, and the tide kissed the shore--and still--Daniel ran, Jack right beside him.

Eventually Jack realized that if they ran too far, the trip back could be painful and life-threatening for Daniel. But he didn't want to stop Daniel because on some level, he understood that the man needed this. Which gave him only one choice--to take control of the run. And that meant--speeding up.

With a groan, Jack dug down deep and called up the necessary reserve to actually pull ahead of Daniel. When he was a couple of lengths in front, he simply cut over and turned their run. Daniel was so far gone that he never even noticed that their direction had changed and they were now headed back.Daniel's speed was slowing as his energy and strength waned.

Jack could see the palace, still quite a distance away. Daniel stumbled, caught himself and kept going. Jack was just about to stop their run when Daniel stumbled again, but this time--he went down, Jack beside him in an instant."Daniel?"

The younger man rolled onto his back, breaths coming harshly, eyes closed, sweat trickling down his face. Jack sat back and as he caught his own breath, he waited.

The anxiety was returning but the good news was that Daniel recognized it. Without opening his eyes, he asked, "How far are we from the palace?"

"Maybe ten minutes, walking distance."

"We should get going. I'm starting to feel--"

Jack scrambled up and held out a hand. Daniel took it and with a quick pull, Daniel was on his feet.

"Obviously I'm all for heading back, but out of curiosity, what are you starting to feel?"

"Um, anxiety. Anger."

"Let's go."

They walked now, both too tired to run, but Daniel's steps were sluggish and his breathing uneven. Jack was getting worried. Halfway back, he slid his arm around Daniel's waist and nodded in satisfaction as Daniel leaned in and let Jack assist him.

By the time they'd reached the courtyard, Daniel was in bad shape. Somehow Jack had to get him inside, but just as he pulled the door open, Daniel stopped and gazed back over his shoulder. The sun was just beginning its descent, the lower edges meeting the horizon. Daniel reached out, as if to touch it, and said with so much pain, "I miss him so much--and the sun never sets, Jack. It never sets."

With those words, he turned from the setting sun and let Jack help him inside.

Jack got Daniel down on his cot, lifted his legs and maneuvered him into a prone position. As Daniel's eyelids flickered and finally closed, Jack took his wrist and got a pulse reading. He didn't like it. He turned to the kit and pulled out the cuff and stethoscope. As Daniel's breathing evened out, Jack wrapped the cuff around the upper arm and started pumping. A moment later, reading the results, he frowned. His decision to let Daniel go outside had been a bad one. Very bad. Jack walked to the M.A.L.P.

<Colonel, that reading is in line with what he did. By the time he wakes, I suspect that in taking another reading, you'll find it back within the desirable range.>

"Are you sure, Doc?"

<Yes. He's sleeping naturally and deeply, isn't he?>

"Yes."

<Then don't worry. However, if the next reading is high, let me know immediately.>

"Will do--and--thanks, Doc."

The screen went blank and Jack turned back to Daniel.

How many more days left?

Jack stared at his hands. He was a soldier, a pilot and now, he'd have to say--an explorer. He was no slouch in the intelligence arena either. If he really put his mind to this whole *light* dilemma, he *should* be able to figure it out. Right? Right.

On the other hand; The Nile wasn't just a river in Egypt.

Denial.

Daniel saw a man in the light and it didn't take a genius to know that Daniel--loved--that man, whoever he was. It was also obvious that Daniel had seen *more* than a man. It seriously sounded as though Daniel had been--transported--by his addiction.

Transported to a place where the sun never set, where Daniel was--happy. The addiction, this *place*, had given Daniel something he didn't have in his life.

Jack got up and walked into the matrix room. For several minutes he stared at the pedestal and he hated it. The urge to destroy the damn thing was so close to the surface--Jack could almost taste it.

This *thing* had given Daniel what Jack couldn't. This fucking palace had given Daniel what he'd not been able to find in life.

With some surprise, Jack realized that he was crying.

When Jack got back to the main room, he found Daniel sitting up and looking about him in a somewhat dazed manner. He checked his watch and realized that he'd been in the matrix room for over three hours. Gee, and all without the aid of the light.

"Hey, you're awake."

"Yeah, yeah I am." Daniel ran a hand over his head, then he rubbed his eyes and Jack thought he looked like a small boy. A lost boy.

"I need to take your pressure again."

Without a word, Daniel held out his arm.

"Right. Thanks."

Jack took another reading and had to smile. Score one for Doc Frasier. Daniel's BP was one-forty over seventy.

"Not bad and considerably better than when I got you back here."

"Sorry about that, Jack. But thanks for letting me--for letting me go--outside."

"No problemo, Danny. But, well, we have to keep your pressure down, you know? So for the next few remaining days--well--"

"I know. Inside."

"Yeah. "Fraid so."

"It's okay."

"Hungry?"

Jack could see that Daniel was about to say no, but that he immediately thought better of it. "Sure. Maybe some--soup?"

"Well, I was thinking--steak, but if you insist, then soup it is."

Ten minutes later they were sipping hot, thick vegetable soup from their military issue cups. Just before Daniel's was empty, Jack got out the pills and handed them over. Daniel took them, swallowed and then finished his soup.

"Man, I can't wait to get home. We're talking the biggest steak of all time, a huge baked potato, a large salad, Caesar, I think. Maybe some fresh steamed asparagus--"

"Yeah, I overheard you and Sam sharing your number one menu choices for your first night back."

There was something in Daniel's voice and Jack tried to figure out what it was, but he came up empty.

"I still can't believe she wanted a fruit salad. The woman has no sense of food."

"So what *did* you two have?"

"We ate at the commissary. Chipped beef on toast for me, fruit salad for Sam. Disgusting, eh?"

Daniel had that little confused frown again. Jack really *loved* that frown.

"Um, Jack? The commissary?"

"Yeah, well, we were tired, we'd been talking and that seemed the most--appropriate."

"Oh."

For some reason, Jack found himself wanting to explain.

"See, Sam and I, well--"

"Jack, you don't have to say anything. I know."

"You know--what?"

"Just--I know. And whatever you two decide, well, you know you can count on--me."

"Daniel, you're not making any sense. And there's nothing to decide--well, that's not true, we already--decided."

"Like I said, you can count on me. Mums the word."

Jack felt as though he were in the spin cycle of a washing machine. Familiar territory when talking with Daniel Jackson.

"Look, Daniel, things have been--confusing--for Carter and myself in the last weeks. But we straightened it out. We're fine. Best buds again."

Daniel sat up and stared at Jack. "Best *buds*?"

"Yeah, friends, teammates, brother and sister, yadda-yadda, you know?"

Bingo. There was that cute look again. Jack could spend his life trying to bring that look out in Daniel. He was pretty damn good at it, too.

"But--but," Daniel waved a hand about, then said, "Oh, hell, never mind."

"Okay. So, where do you want to go on our first night back home?"

"Home. Which is where I'm gonna stay for as long as General Hammond lets me."

Daniel lay back down and brought his hands up to clasp them behind his head. "And as far as food is concerned--I just want to sleep in my own bed. I'll worry about food later."

Jack mirrored Daniel's position and for a few minutes, both men simply stared up at the ceiling. Finally, Jack decided to try again, this time, as a friend.

"You know, I wish you'd tell me, Daniel. Just tell me, one friend to another."

Daniel didn't have to ask what Jack was talking about.

"Trust me, Jack. You don't want to know."

"I don't usually ask things that I don't want to know. But I'm betting I can guess most of it."

"Oh, I'm betting you can't," Daniel said knowingly.

"You saw a place. A pretty terrific place. And a man. Someone you--love. And you want to go back there because he's there. Because--you have a life there."

"Um--wow."

Ignoring Daniel's response, Jack mused almost to himself, "What I don't understand is why? I always thought you loved working with the SGC, with--SG1. And I'm not taking away from the fact that this has been a pretty crappy year. And I know I haven't been there for you and I regret that more than I can ever say. But damn it, Danny, I thought you loved gate travel. Loved what we're doing."

"Um--wow."

"This, from a linguist. Gee whiz."

For several minutes nothing was said by either man. Jack continued to sit and stare at Daniel, who continued to stare up at the ceiling.

Finally, Daniel said in a sad voice, "It's not your fault, Jack. None of it is your fault. I know that what I saw--wasn't real. And yes, for a while, I was confused, thought it *did* exist, that *he* existed, but then, well, I remembered, you know--Shyla.

"I realized that it was all in my mind. That per my norm, this particular idiot had screwed up and once again put everyone in danger. Well, it's over now and I'm okay."

Jack heard so many things in Daniel's voice, things that had been there for--possibly--years. Things that he, Jack, should have heard before. He got up and none too gently, shoved at Daniel's hip until the younger man moved over, allowing Jack to sit on the edge of the cot.

"Daniel Jackson isn't a screw-up. He's the smartest man I know and without him, the SGC would be useless. Without him, *I'd* be, God knows--what."

"Is that what you were thinking in those mines, Jack? Or when Hathor had complete run of the base? Or when Skaara was taken because I couldn't keep the gate buried? Or maybe when Skaara was taken instead of me?"

Good God. Jack had no idea how deep the rivers of guilt ran within Daniel Jackson. He was going to have to do something about it. Now.

As stunned as Jack was by the level of guilt in his friend, that surprise didn't stop a thought from knocking on his brain and gaining entrance.

Why did Daniel want to be in the *special* place with--a man--and not Sha're?

Wait--first things, first.

"Danny, that's a whole lot of guilt you're carrying around. And may I say--a whole lot of *misplaced* guilt? You were not responsible for what happened with Shyla. The sarcophagus corrupted you, stole your soul and your very humanity. That's what it *does*, Daniel. It would have happened to me, to Carter, to *anyone*."

"No, no it wouldn't, Jack. You would never have given in, never had climbed into that thing in the first place."

"Okay," Jack asked, his wheels turning, "So why did *you* get in the second time?"

Daniel's head lowered and his shoulders hunched over as he said, "I was trying to--humor--her. I figured once I got in, got out, I could get her to release you all. But--"

"But you didn't know that the sarcophagus could steal your soul, did you?"

Daniel shook his head in misery.

"I'd have done the same, Danny. The same. I'd have figured that by doing as she asked, I could get her to release my friends. And please, don't let's even talk about Hathor, the bitch. She's dead and there isn't a man of the SGC that didn't succumb. Hell, I ended up a Jaffa, fer cryin' out loud!"

"And Skaara?"

"And Skaara nothing. You couldn't have known what would happen. Hell, *I'm* the colonel, remember? The fucking expert and off we all went. And later? Come on, Danny, the chances are that he would have been chosen anyway. You saw the way they moved through the crowd. Besides, if they *had* taken you--I don't think, well, things would have been very different."

"Better. Things would have been better."

"Okay, *now* you're really starting to tick me off, Doctor Jackson. Major ticking here."

Jack stood and started to pace. "Look, I admit, you're exasperating, you act before you think, and you rush in where angels fear to tread. You think you're always right when in reality, you're only right about 95% of the time. You've died *way* too many times for my comfort level and you have *got* to be getting close to that ninth life. You're *not* perfect and God knows we all know that. But neither are you responsible for every bad thing that's happened. You are, in fact, responsible for a good many good things like--"

"You're *he*, Jack. You're the reason--I had to go back, had to turn on the light matrix."

Jack stopped pacing and turned slowly, mouth agape.

Daniel looked at his friend and shrugged. "Hey, you asked."

"You--were--with me?"

"Yes."

Daniel rose easily and walked to the pedestal room, Jack following. When he was a few feet away from the device, he said, "I didn't see you right away, but the feelings of *being* in the light were--like feeling you. I started finding reasons to come in here, you know? Then one afternoon, I'm standing here and wham! I'm not here anymore. I'm in this garden and there--you were."

His voice broke a bit then and Jack found himself drawn closer. "You were smiling and that lopsided grin was for me and no one else. It went all the way, soul deep. And your eyes crinkled up and you said, 'I've been waiting for you, Danny boy.' Well, that did it. I moved into your arms and we held on tight, and then--we kissed.

"I knew that Sha're would be happy for me. For us. And kissing you wasn't like kissing her or anyone else. I never felt--swallowed--when Sha're and I kissed. And that isn't doing her an injustice, by the way. But kissing you was like being engulfed in a force that tore right through me and yet, left me intact after."

Jack didn't say a word, *couldn't* say a word. If he did, he was afraid he'd break the spell. But damn, he wanted to touch Daniel.

"When I was there, in that--paradise--I was someone else, Jack. I was me--yet not. Then I returned to the SGC, but I knew I'd be going back to the palace, and you--the other you-- said you'd wait for me so I wasn't worried.

"But once back in Colorado, well, you know, the addiction kicked in. But--on my balcony, you, the other you, and even the you-you, were so far away and I lost all hope, felt so--bereft. And then *you* were standing at the balcony door. You were talking and I couldn't explain, couldn't make you understand the last months, the loss I felt as we drifted further and further apart.

"I don't remember much else until coming back to life here. And I have no real excuse for what happened, for turning on--" he waved a hand at the pedestal, "this thing. Except, watching you with Sam and Loran and seeing what I could never have and we're talking a simple case of raging self-pity. I do remember thinking, after talking to Janet, that once you guys left it would be a simple matter to get it going. That in a couple of days, no one would be able to bring me back and I'd stay there with you, um, with the *other* you, forever."

Daniel paused, took a deep breath, then added, "So now you see why you need to accept my resignation, Jack."

There was so much going on inside Jack's head that he was having a hard time believing that anything was real. Because--because--Daniel loved him. *Him*.

Well, holy fuck.

This was kind of a coincidence, if one stopped to think about it. Which Jack was doing.

Daniel loved Jack and gee, Jack loved Daniel. Yep, hell of a coincidence.

Suddenly the marbles of thoughts cluttering up Jack's brain, settled. Like that little game where you jiggle and work the puzzle until you get all the little balls in their slots.

Bingo. We have a winnah!

Jack touched Daniel then. He moved closer, slid his arms around Daniel's waist, brought him into his chest and rested his chin on Daniel's shoulder. He felt Daniel stiffen, but before he could think too much about it and pull away, Jack said softly, "I think I can find that paradise of yours. The sun *does* set, however, but you get this warm, silky darkness and the stars are so bright in the heavens that you don't need the sun. I was there once, about twenty years ago. I remember the scent of tropical flowers and a moon that rose over the ocean and bathed the area in a glow that took my breath away."

As Jack whispered against Daniel's skin, he was pleased to note how Daniel slowly relaxed into him.

Maybe he'd have his chance after all.

Daniel listened and it was almost as if he were under the spell of the Light again. He closed his eyes and pretended.

Encouraged by the complete surrender of the man in his arms, Jack continued to weave his spell.

"This paradise was on Taveuni, in the Fiji Islands. The grass was thick and soft and walking barefoot was like--heaven. The smell of it each morning waged war with the ocean and the exotic flowers for dominance. I remember wishing desperately that I had someone beside me, someone to share it all. And now--I do. Are you getting my point here, Danny?"

When Daniel didn't respond, Jack added, "I have a friend who lives there now. He has a home he calls Vale Cadra Ni Vula, which means 'House of the Rising Moon'. I think he'd let us have it for a couple of weeks. Not a hockey puck in sight, Daniel. Can we do this? Make that paradise of yours happen?" The words had been flowing on, around, over and through Daniel. He'd been absorbing them like a thirsty sponge, but in a surreal way, because he was still pretending--the words and Jack's arms *had* to be a part of his fantasy, of the light. But at Jack's last question, he glanced down, saw the arms around him, really *heard* Jack and realized--

"Wait."

"What, you don't like the idea of the two of us on an island getaway? Alone with long private beaches, balmy nights, sunny breezy days--"

"Could you tell me how we went from Daniel is crazy, full of guilt, addicted and about to destroy the most important friendship in his life, to the two of us on an island in Fiji?" Daniel's voice actually squeaked on the last couple of words.

Jack decided his mouth was way too close to Daniel's ear *not* to take a nibble, so he did. As Daniel jumped, he chuckled and answered, "Simple. Daniel isn't crazy. Yeah, he's full of guilt, but we can take care of that with years of one-on-one therapy. He *isn't* ruining an important friendship; he's actually moving it to a new level, one that *this* half of the friendship is all for, by the way. And don't you *want* to go to Taveuni with me?"

"I think--this isn't real. I think--I've done something to you, Jack. Somehow the addiction is spreading, it's contagious. And I really wish I had a tape machine because playing you back to Carter--well, she'd get a kick out of it."

"You know, if I didn't love you so much, I'd be insulted right now. I'd be wounded to the quick."

"But you're not."

"Nope. I'm on a euphoric high. I have everything I want within the circle of my arms--"

"There. That. Tape machine. Carter would be rolling on the floor."

"Let her roll. And what, you didn't think I could be a romantic fool? That only the other Jack could say sweet nothings?"

"Well, he was kinda romantic."

"He is me, I am he. We are one."

"That was deep, Jack. Very deep."

"Look, this is fun and all, but could we kiss now?"

Daniel turned in Jack's arms and pulled away, but only enough to really see Jack. "You want to kiss?"

"Is the Pope catholic?"

"You want to kiss *me*?"

"Hello? There's only *one* Daniel in my life, and he's you. You are he--"

Daniel decided to stop thinking, stop worrying and just kiss the man. It had the added perk of shutting Jack up.

Jack didn't know what to really expect when their lips touched, maybe perfection. The first kiss was more fun than that. First they tried to crawl inside each other, then between bouts of laughter and angle changing, they decided to go for tongue. Jack would later swear that Daniel had started it.

When they finally parted, bodies suddenly hot, breath coming in pants, Jack's eyes fixed on Daniel's swollen lips, they started to move into the main room. They made it to one of the cots, then had a small struggle for control. Jack won, but only because Daniel was the wiser.

As Jack stood over the dazed-looking Daniel, he bent and took his mouth again as Daniel's hands crept under Jack's tee shirt. Finally Daniel simply pulled Jack on top of him and fell back, laughing.

The laugh was young and knowing and wild, all of which drove Jack crazy with want. He attacked Daniel's mouth again even as his fingers were busy lowering the zipper on Daniel's pants. When he moved his kisses to Daniel's neck, the younger man said between harsh breaths, "The--M.A.L.P.--shouldn't we--you know, turn it, say, *around*? If we leave it--where it is--*don't ask and don't tell* will become show and tell--"

Jack pushed away, blinked, struggled for words, gave up and groaned. To Danny's laughter, he finally stood and with a healthy kick, shove and push,