Betwixt and Between

One hand locked onto the underside of the DHD to steady himself against the storm’s buffeting, Daniel began dialing the coordinates for Earth, body expertly flexing and flowing with the powerful wind. It was a skill learned long ago during countless digs in countless deserts, sharpened by his year on Abydos with its frequent sandstorms, and never more appreciated than now. Despite that, an errant gust shoved his hand aside at the last second, and he hit the wrong symbol, forcing him to abort the entire ‘address’ and wait for the machine to reset.

Lips tight in annoyance at himself, he looked up to check his teammates progress to the Gate, relieved to see that they were only a few yards from the steps leading up to the huge metal circle. Sam, being so light in comparison to the others, was having the most difficulty fighting the wind, and both Teal’c and Jack had wrapped arms around her waist to stabilize her. While it kept her from being swept away like so much debris, it gave the gale more surface to batter, and the three of them were struggling for every inch of ground gained.

Jack’s voice could be heard in fits and starts as the gusts and his labors allowed the words to reach Daniel. “…if it’s not…not some *goddamn* alien…kill us…it’s some *god*…alien technol…then it’s the…*mn* planet itself!”

Despite the danger, Daniel had to smile, thinking that the universe would be a much more boring place if his friend and commander ever ran out of smart-ass remarks. An odd benchmark to have to let him feel as if, no matter how dire the situation, he would survive, but it worked for him.

Not that this was that desperate, yet. Instinctively blinking against the small bits of vegetation and dirt hurtled at him by the tempest, Daniel looked out over the vast plain surrounding the Stargate for this world, admiring the immense storm and the effect it had on an otherwise boring landscape. The tall grasses that grew in such abundance were in varying shades of green that ranged from almost silver to nearly black, but as they shimmied under the ever-changing weight of the wind, they became a living kaleidoscope of green opalescence that reflected the wild light show flashing above it. Lightning, more vividly colored than Daniel had ever seen on any other planet, hurtled itself in jagged streaks and spikes across a gray-green cloud cover that was as infinitely varied in hue and texture as the prairie below it. The combination lent itself to the odd effect of making him feel suspended in the middle of the storm itself, with only the five tornadoes scattered over the horizon giving any credence to the fact that there was indeed, solid land underneath him.

A small tree branch that must have been flung for miles from the nearest forest oasis in this desert of grasses nearly hit Daniel in the head, and, reminded of what he should be doing, he began dialing for Earth again. As he hit the last symbol, he glanced at the horizon, intending one last admiring look at the wild abandon of the storm and saw the lightening smear itself into one tremendous sheet of energy. It stretched from the ground to the sky as far as he could see in either direction, and was moving toward the Gate at an incredible velocity. Shouting a warning to his teammates, he ran for the Gate, angling his body to make the best possible speed against a wind that seemed intent on shoving him into the death coming from the opposite direction.

The others glanced back, saw what was racing for them, and redoubled their efforts to get up the steps of the Gate dais. An especially violent downdraft knocked them to their knees just at the top riser, then, as if of one mind, Jack and Teal’c hurled Sam forward, sending her through the event horizon with inches to spare above the bottom half of the Gate. Daniel reached their side just as Teal’c regained his feet, and the two of them snatched at the back of O’Neill’s pack as they threw themselves after her.

Even as the peculiar icy tingle of the event horizon chased over his skin, Daniel felt a stronger, more bitter sting, caught the sharp scent of ozone, and knew the sheet lightning had hit the Gate. For an instant so brief he was never sure if he imagined it or not, the wormhole pulsed through him in a way it never had before, then he was tumbling onto the ramp on the other side, limbs mixing with Jack’s as they fell. Dazed, he lay where he was, staring up at the silver light of the Gate and vaguely wondering why it looked different.

Jack untangled himself and patted Daniel on the shoulder. “All right?”

Sitting up and shoving his glasses back onto his face in the right position, Daniel nodded, then looked for Teal’s to ask him the same question. The Jaffar was staring down the ramp, expression carefully neutral in the way that told Daniel his teammate was hiding a strong reaction. Glancing in the same direction as Teal’c’s stare, he blinked, pushed at his glasses again, then shook his head as if that would fix his eyesight. Beside him he heard Jack say, “What the f….” Reluctantly taking that to mean O’Neill saw the same thing he did, Daniel stopped trying to adjust his glasses and admitted he wasn’t seeing things.

It was as if some one had created a life-size poster entitled, “Embarkation Room During Emergency SG Team Return.” A squad of marines had their weapons up and trained on top of the access ramp, some of them posed mid-step or mid-lift of rifle; Dr. Fraiser was halfway through the door with her team beside her, all of them with their mouths half-open, as if about to speak. Through the glass of the Control Room, Daniel could see the technicians were frozen in place, clearly caught while going about their usual duties; Hammond was there, as well, stopped in the middle of a turn to address someone in the room. Most disturbing of all was Sam, kneeling at the foot of the ramp, poised in the act of rising to her feet.

“Major Carter,” Teal’c said questioning, reaching down as if to help her stand.

Frowning, an indistinct thought niggling at the back of his mind, Daniel said sharply, “Don’t touch her!”

As Teal’c pulled his hand back and looked at Daniel in concern, Jack asked, “You know something, Daniel?”

Closing his eyes and trying to pin down the elusive memory that had warned him, Daniel said, “No…maybe. I can’t get a handle on it, Jack.”

“So we give you some room to think.” There was both confidence and amusement under the 'taking charge' tone, but before Daniel could react to either, Jack titled his head and caught his other team member’s eye. “Teal’c?”

“This is unlike any phenomena that I am aware of, O’Neill,” Teal’c said thoughtfully.

“I was hoping you weren’t going to say that.” Walking over to the nearest Marine, Jack waved his hand in front of the man’s face, then grimaced when the gesture produced no results. “Fast acting gas that causes paralysis?”

“Dissipating quickly after achieving results?” Teal’c replied, dubiously.

“Either way, best to act on the premise that the Mountain’s under attack.” Bringing up his weapon, Jack nodded to the Control Room. "We do a sweep there, then the briefing room and the general’s office. Once clear, we’ll contact the surface and see if they’re aware of anything unusual going on. You bring up the rear, Teal'c, give Daniel a chance to figure out what's on his mind."

The search turned up nothing except the fact that none of the equipment was working, including the phone lines to the surface. “Son of a bitch,” Jack swore softly. Scrubbing at the back of his head, he added, “Looks like we’re on our own. We secure this level, looking for signs of the enemy, then slowly move up one level at a time until we find them or reach the top. “

“It would be to our tactical advantage to divide our forces,” Teal’c said somberly, only his dark eyes hinting at his dislike of the suggestion.

“Much as I hate to admit it, yeah.” Frowning, he considered a split-second, then pointed toward the offices and labs and told Daniel, “You take that wing, I’ll do enlisted men’s territory, Teal’c, you’ve got the armory and training facilities. Meet back at the Gate Room in fifteen. You find the bad guys, back off until you’re sure they won’t spot you, contact the rest of the team; radio silence until then. Got it?” Without waiting for nods of agreement, Jack trotted off, expression grim and gun ready.

Some time later, his search complete, Daniel stopped by his own office/lab and sat on a stool next to his workbench, mind whirring, trying yet again to pinpoint what it was about their circumstances that nagged at him. So far he had found nothing to make him believe that Cheyenne Mountain had been invaded; nor could he think of a enemy powerful enough to carry off paralyzing an entire base without someone on the outside noticing and coming to investigate. A few allies, like the Nox or Asgards, maybe, but why would they want to? Granted, an attack of some kind could have happened and all the action was going on many levels above their heads, but it just didn’t feel right to Daniel.

Staring at a blank computer screen, he absently noticed that the green light at the front was lit, indicating the monitor was active. That didn’t make sense, and Daniel checked all the equipment in the lab, discovering that though none of it was operating as far as he could tell, all of it had power, if he went by the 'on' lights. How could they have power, yet not work? For that fact, how could the overhead lights be on if there had been a power disruption of some kind?

Nor had that been the only strange thing that he had run into during his search. Several rooms that he should have been able to get into had the doors locked, or, at least, he hadn’t been able to open the door when he tried. In fact, Daniel had seen a door standing ajar, but when he pushed at it to go inside, it hadn’t budged at all, though there had been no obstacle on the other side that he could see through the crack on the hinge side. What he *had* been able to see had made him start re-thinking the assumption that they were under assault.

One of the Marine captains that he had heard rumors of having a problem with alcohol had been pouring himself a drink when whatever had happened, happened. Aside from the bottle in his hand, which normally would have told Daniel all he needed to know, there was the simple fact that the stream of amber liquid was suspended unmoving between bottle and glass. It didn’t look frozen to him; it looked *halted,* as if time had stopped and it had, too, mid-pour.

//The Mountain isn’t being affected by something,// Daniel thought, fingers going to the back of his neck to rub at suddenly tight muscles. //We are.//

“Ouch!” A stab of sharp pain in his thumb made him yank his hand to where he could see it, but before he could react to the bead of bright blood welling up around the alien looking thorn, the world around him wavered. Sound came with the visual distortion - a quick babble of voices, machine hums and buzzes, and all the other noises that usually accompanied any place filled with people and civilization. As fast as it hit, it was gone, leaving Daniel acutely aware for the first time of the complete absence of all noise in an environment that should have been filled with it.

Absently picking out the thorn with his teeth and putting it in a pocket for Dr. Fraiser to look at, he thumbed his mike, suddenly sure that maintaining radio silence wasn’t necessary. “Did you hear that?” he said neutrally, just in case he was wrong, and their waveband was being monitored. Feet automatically heading for the rendezvous point, he waited for a reply, then tried again. “Do you copy?”

There was nothing - not even the snarl of static or distant drone of an open microphone. “Makes sense,” he said to himself. “Nothing else is operating; why should our radios? Should have thought of that.” He picked up his pace, only to skid to a halt as he rounded a corner and hold up his hands when both Teal’c and Jack aimed their weapons at him. “Did you hear that? A burst of sound?” he said breathlessly, dropping his defensive posture the moment they recognized him.

Grabbing him by the upper arm and pulling him to his side, as if that were the safest place for him, Jack said, “Like the sound dial on the amp had been spun up, then dropped? Yeah, we heard it.”

Wishing he could lean into the lanky form, just for a split-second to reassure himself that Jack was real and he wasn’t in the middle of an odd nightmare, Daniel blurted, “It’s not them, it’s us.”

To his surprise, Jack nodded. “Think it’s a Time thing?” At the sharp look from his teammates, he shrugged. “Just came from the Officer’s Mess. Know that leaky steam table on the cafeteria line - the one you risk third degree burns from if you reach across to the back row? The steam wasn’t moving; wasn’t hot, either. I don’t think even Thor could manage that.”

“That collaborates what I have witnessed myself,” Teal’c agreed. “Corporal Stang is currently floating three feet above the workout mat, undoubtedly in the act of landing after being tossed by the defense instructor.”

“Well, hell,” Jack said tiredly. He leaned on the nearest wall, carefully walking around a motionless airman taking up the middle of the corridor. “Now what? Wait for them to notice we’ve gone missing and figure out what happened to us?”

“We’re on the wrong side of the clock for that to be a good idea,” Daniel said, thinking hard. At his commander’s puzzled look, he added slowly. “They’ve stopped or are moving very, very slowly in comparison to us. Conceivably we could die of old age before we’re overdue from their perspective, let alone discover the cause.”

“That is why you did not wish me to assist Major Carter,” Teal’c said. “No matter how brief my contact would be, it would be magnified many times in force and duration due to the difference between my frame of reference and hers.”

Tilting back his head to be able to look the Jaffar in the eye, Jack said, “Huh?”

“Think stop motion,” Daniel said, expanding an imaginary object between his hands. “One second for us, one hour for her. What would happen if you laid your finger on some one’s arm and pushed, even really, really gently, for an hour?”

“Ouch!” Jack considered for a second, then asked, “Good call from your subconscious, Daniel. Keep it handy, okay?” He waved as if to encompass the whole base, then asked, “That would apply to things, too? Is that why we can’t open any of the doors? They’re moving, now, because we pushed, but moving too slowly for us to see? And when they do, their time, boom! They’re slammed open, right?”

“Which means we have to be very, very careful about what we do try to move. Flick a pen across the desk and instead of doing what you expect, it could fly off the desk and embed itself in some one walking by at the wrong moment, relatively speaking.” Daniel leaned next to Jack, head hanging as he thought out loud. “Because of the time difference, we’re on our own, I think. Best we can do as far as the SGC is concerned is to leave a message of some kind to let them know what happened.”

“Not the first time we’ve had to cope with the scientifically strange,” Jack said assertively. “Or even the out-and-out weird. Remember Urgo?”

Teal’c looked pained, but Daniel snorted in amusement. He’d grown fond of the alien intelligence, in a way, or at least sympathetic to the being’s fight to survive. Wasn’t that what he’d spent most of his life trying to do, himself? Pushing the familiar wave of depression and frustration aside, he said, “I think what we have to do first is measure the difference, if there is one.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Jack said lightly, checking his watch.

By habit Daniel looked at his wrist watch. “Eleven o’clock,” he murmured, then blinked. “That doesn’t sound right. Feels more like three in the afternoon, or so.” He watched the face for at least a minute, but the digital numbers didn’t change.

“Mine’s got 0900,” Jack said in frustration. “Permanently, looks like. Well, it’s not as if there’s a shortage of clocks in the place. We just keep on eye on them, see if any of them are keeping time, no matter how slow.”

“Take too long.” Daniel reached into a pocket for his notebook, tore a shred of paper from it, then went to kneel by the airman. Making sure he didn't accidentally touch the man, he carefully balanced the paper on the heel the airman would have to lift for his next step. “A single step takes less than a second, usually. We check on that periodically to give us an idea on how long it takes to fall. Longer it takes, the slower everyone is relative to us.”

“Would not an air current disturb its location, DanielJackson?” Teal’c asked, sounding honestly curious.

“Have you felt one since we arrived?” Daniel shrugged as he returned to his feet. “The breezes and drafts are operating on the same time frame as the rest of the world. Probably the only reason we can breathe is because oxygen exchange takes place at a molecular level at molecular speeds, which are incredibly fast.”

“So what next, Dr. Jackson?” Jack said.

Though he used the title with a facetious tone, Daniel realized that his friend was dead serious. Right now he was the closest thing to a physicist the two warriors had available, and all he had was a dozen or so conversations with Sam about the nature of Time and how the Gate worked, and a deep-seated need to not let Jack down. “This isn’t exactly my area of expertise,” he said slowly. “Any ideas or suggestions either of you might have could be exactly what we need.”

Teal’c and Jack exchanged a look, then the Jaffar said thoughtfully, “Perhaps the effect is localized, as it was when the Stargate was being affected by the black hole destroying P3X 451.”

Nodding, Jack said with determined optimism, “So we see how far this goes. Who knows; maybe we can literally walk out of it and be back to normal.”

Grateful that he had an excuse to do the same, Daniel dryly pointed out, “Tough to do when you can’t open a door in less than a year.”

“We’re going to push *really* hard.” Jack gathered Teal’c with a look and started to leave. “Why don’t you check out Sam’s workshop? She’s got clocks in there that could time an atom’s hiccup. Meet back at the Gate Room in a few hours.”

“Just don’t tell her I was in there messing with her tools,” Daniel muttered, a faint smile in place as he followed them out.

* * *

Some indefinable time later Daniel gave threw himself into Sam’s desk chair, frowning at himself so fiercely his cheeks hurt. If he was having *any* effect on *anything* in this room, he could see absolutely no signs of it. Readouts remained obdurately unchanged no matter what button he touched, pressed or hammered; delicate instruments designed to detect the most infinitesimal change in temperature or radiation didn’t respond, even when he gingerly wrapped his hand around the sensors. Most frustrating was when he’d *forget,* and absently try to pick up a pencil or paper clip or whatever. He’d stubbed his fingertips so many times that they all throbbed dully, especially the one that he’d pricked with a thorn earlier.

Sucking on that one, morbidly wondering if infection would move in slow motion now, too, he eyed the computer screen in front of him. Like every other one that he’d seen today, it was glowing blackly, as if the screen saver were set to blank screen. Of course, light moved fastest of all, so course he’d see at least a residual of shine even if the pixels themselves were set for human visual rates.

That gave Daniel an idea, and he took a penknife from his pocket and tried to pry up one of the keys enough to get the tip of the blade on the circuit underneath. Electricity moved at a good clip, too. If he could get a single letter on the screen, he’d finally have a unit of measure they could work with.

The plastic resisted, of course, the way he expected it to, and he judiciously applied more force, not trying to dislodge it so much as to get under it. Possibly because he expected the plastic to give before the metal of the knife, he was caught off guard when the blade snapped in two, the stub skidding across the keyboard and into the heel of the hand holding it at the far edge. The broken edge wasn’t sharp enough to cut, but it did gouge a shallow wedge-shaped hole in his flesh that hurt far more than if should have.

Through the torrent of pain burning up his arm, Daniel saw the room wobble as if it were a reflection in a pool of water, and his ears were assaulted with a explosion of noise that died nearly instantly, not even leaving echoes behind it. Only when it was gone could he pick out individual sounds, and, like before, they were the kind that he expected to hear during the course of a normal day on the base. Holding the wrist of his injured hand, he spun in a tight circle looking for the cause of what was apparently a minute flash of regular time, then stared down thoughtfully at the small wound that had only a single drop of blood slowly trickling down from it.

Unable to dismiss the fact that the two times he’d drawn blood from himself today had immediately been followed by a rupture in the stasis surrounding him, Daniel slowly walked back toward the Gate Room, relentlessly turning that data over and over in his mind. Detouring enough to be able to check on the slip of paper he'd left as a gauge, his stomach clenched coldly when he found that it hadn't moved at all.

He arrived to find a very exasperated Colonel pacing angrily around a very stoic Jaffa, both of them looking a little worse for wear. That was surprising - by their own time, it wasn’t that late in the day, yet the two soldiers looked exhausted, and Jack had his hands in his armpits as if to warm them. As if reminded, he shivered himself, suddenly realizing that he was cold and tired himself. His pack weighed a thousand pounds and he gratefully shucked it off, leaving it and everything else he didn't need to carry by the door.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, not questioning his impulse to hide his injury, Daniel walked over and sat on the edge of the ramp and waited for Jack to wind down. Knowing that his friends would turn to him for new questions, if not a new plan, he did his best to flog his brain, but all he could think of was the dull bite of pain in his hand.

“…no exit, no egress, no point of departure. Get it? As in completely and totally stuck here, this level, these rooms. Can’t even get to my own quarters, damn it.” Jack threw himself down beside Daniel. “How’re we supposed to escape if we’re stuck here?”

Eyebrow up and head tilted to one side, Teal’c regarded O’Neill calmly without saying a word, but his whole manner announcing clearly that he found the question - questionable. Daniel ducked his head to hide a snicker, didn’t fool Jack for a second by doing it, then said calmly, “I heard another break; did you?”

“Few minutes ago,” Jack agreed glumly. Then he brightened up. “Maybe it’ll pop for good by itself then.”

“I do not think so,” Teal’c said solemnly. “There are tales - rumors - of those who have stepped through the Cha’pai and were never seen again. That is why no Ga’ould will willingly go through one first, but always sends a guard ahead, even when traveling to his own ship.”

Stubbornly Jack said, “Those were snake heads - we’re smarter and more inventive. We’ll find a way out of this.”

“Well, what do we know about the Gate and Time working together?” Daniel said, thinking out loud.

“You can go backwards or forwards if you know when the sunspot’s going to hit,” Jack said promptly. “But we can’t use the Gate to get out because it’s open here. One way at a time, remember?”

“It is capable of working in conjunction with other Gates to create a bubble of repeating Time,” Teal’c said, sitting down on the other side of Daniel, sandwiching him in warmth that made him feel better.

“If we’ve got a bubble going here,” Jack put in, “We’re never going to find out how big it is because We Can’t Leave This Level!”

“Bubble,” Daniel said to himself thoughtfully. “A bubble of energy surrounds the Gate whenever it’s working; I remember Sam talking about that once. The field stabilizes the worm-hole event horizon so it can be used safely.”

“I don’t remember her going on about that,” Jack said doubtfully.

“Sam doesn’t have many people she can talk to who really understand her when it comes to Quantum Physics or Temporal Mechanics,” Daniel said without thinking. “Sometimes I listen as best I can just to ask questions that let her at least get a taste of having a decent conversation.”

“You’re a better man than I am, Daniel Jackson.” Though his words were perfectly serious, there was a hint of mischief in Jack’s eyes, and he playfully bumped his shoulder into Daniel’s, as if inviting him to argue.

“About time you noticed that,” Daniel said promptly, keeping his expression bland, but allowing himself, this once, to lean into the touch for a moment.

“Don’t let it go to your head; I don’t have the best reputation in the world to start with.” Jack leaned, too, for a second, much to Daniel’s delight, then went back on his elbows and studied the ceiling over head. “Getting back to business. Forward, Backwards, Repeat, Distort - that’s what we’ve seen up ‘til now.”

“Now we can add Stop to that,” Daniel mused. “So far there hasn’t been a single hint that we’re accelerated or they’re slowed down; all the evidence points to a complete halt to the flow of time. Since that’s impossible, according to what Sam’s said, the only intelligent guess I can come up with is that somehow we got caught outside the ‘bubble.’ Not Forward, not Back, but Between.”

“There’s a between?”

“There must be, O’Neill,” Teal’c said unexpectedly. “The Quantum Mirror could not exist if there was not a clear delineation between universes. It is reasonable to assume that a difference in the flow of time may be part of that barrier.”

“So we gotta figure out a way to get back through to where they are?” Jack nodded at the other people in the room.

“Something like that,” Daniel agreed.

“The Gate on PX2 771 got hit by one heck of an energy charge to get us in this mess. Maybe we can hit the one here with something like it and, I don’t know, maybe break the bubble long enough for us to get across.”

“Break the bubble.” An idea formed in Daniel’s head, and he abruptly stood. “Why don’t the two of you check out the Gate, see if the rings can be manually moved or the power disrupted somehow? It should be like us and outside of Time, or at least on the edge of it enough that there’s a chance we can have an effect on it. That’ll give us a good starting point for figuring out how to hit it and with what.”

“That could work,” Jack agreed, getting to his feet himself. “And you’re going to be doing what?”

“Thinking.”

“Way to go, Jackson.” With a brief touch to Daniel’s back, Jack walked up the ramp, warily eyeing the inner ring and its shining contents, Teal’c trailing after him doing the same.

A faint impression from the contact lingered, and Daniel greedily took it with him as he wandered back toward his office, more because he needed to be in motion than because he thought he could find anything of use there. Huddled in on himself from a chill that was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, he clenched and unclenched his hurt hand, the pain a dull ache that didn’t get any better, but didn’t get any worse either. //Two injuries, two returns to normal time if only for a split second. Not breaking the bubble, then, but poking at it enough to thin it for a second. Why? The blood? The pain?//

Without giving himself a chance to consider, Daniel spun and slapped the nearest wall with his full strength, then fell to his knees from the agony that encompassed far more than his hand. With it came cacophony of human and machine-made noises that lasted long enough that individual words in individual voices could be made out. Barely aware of that, Daniel rode out the throbbing waves of pain, immensely relieved that each was a little less than the one before it.

For a moment he was tempted to use some of the pain pills that he had slowly accumulated over his time with SG1. He hated narcotics of all breeds and used them only when he absolutely had to - mostly because Dr. Fraiser threatened to use intravenous ones if he didn’t. Rather than return them to her and risk her wrath, or even simply throw them out, he’d held onto them and kept them in his field jacket, thinking the might come in handy, given some of the things that had happened to him and his teammates on occasion.

Finally deciding it wasn’t a good time to be groggy, he held on and when he could finally take a deep breath and move his arm without wanting to pass out, he said out loud, “Not blood, okay. That’s good I guess. How much pain is needed to break free, and if that’s all it takes, why didn’t the missing Ga’ould Teal’c mentioned discover it themselves and pass on the knowledge when they returned to normal?”

Getting to his feet awkwardly because he was cradling his injured hand against his chest, Daniel leaned on the wall and thought harder. //Ga’ould dish out pain as casually as they dish out arrogance, but they seldom do it personally. They either use the hand device or have their guards do it. But device wouldn’t work, and if the situation were tense enough, the ‘god’ might decide that discretion was the better part of wisdom and stay away from physical punishment, depending on his ‘godhood’ to control his Jaffa.

//Good theory, but it doesn’t answer how much damage has to be done.// Getting himself back in motion, Daniel forced himself to stop shying away from the probable answer to that. //My wrist is most likely broken and the only result was less than a second of normal time. It’s going to take dying, at least.//

Another thought occurred to him, and he stopped again, saying aloud, “If they didn’t come back, they had to die. Why didn’t the bodies appear then? Because all of them had to die at once?” The silent, gloomy corridor with its living mannequins didn’t have an answer to that. Neither did Daniel and, for lack of anything better to do, he went back to the Gate Room to see if Jack and Teal’c had had any more success than he had.

To judge by his commander’s face when he went through the door to find his teammates sitting on the ramp again, the answer was an unqualified no. Again without stopping consider why, Daniel stuffed his hand in his pocket, schooling his expression to hide the ache from it. “Another burst. Maybe you’re right and all we have to do is wait this out,” he said, trying to put some optimism in his voice.

“I’d agree with you on that, Danny,” Jack said tiredly, “If Teal’c hadn’t noticed that he was getting cold.”

“Teal’c admitted he was cold?” The surprise wasn’t faked, though Daniel was careful to twist the sound of it enough that it sounded as if he were gently jerking at his friend’s chain.

“Far more so than I should be given our location,” Teal’c said, no hint of a smile in his eyes or his answer.

That told Daniel that he was missing something, so he sat down between them in the space he was willing to bet they left for him. That warmed him as much as the shared body heat, but both made him realize just how icy he was. “This doesn’t make sense,” he said, feeling Jack’s shivers through where their shoulders were pressed together. “Even with the heat is off, the coldest it would get this deep in the earth would be about 60 degrees.”

Not shivering himself but giving the impression he was seriously uncomfortable anyway, Teal’c said, “Nevertheless it is significantly cooler than that, DanielJackson, and has become progressively so during our stay. Hypothermia is becoming a definite possibility.”

“And we’re getting tired too fast, too,” Jack said quietly. “You look like you could use a nice long nap; I know I could. It’s like the bubble is shrinking away from us and taking all the heat and energy with it.”

That was the last piece of information Daniel needed and understanding solidified in his mind - and in his heart. Carefully keeping his voice neutral, he calmly lied, “That could explain the breaks we’ve been experiencing. Pinhole leaks big enough to let the excess energy from the lightning out, but not big enough for solid objects. If we could anticipate the next one, or even just be ready for it, maybe we could widen it, tear it open. What did you find when you checked the power to the Gate? Is it possible to tap it for our use?”

“Maybe, maybe,” Jack said with renewed interest. “We can move the cables, the ramp, anything attached to the Gate. Wonder what would happen if we shoved a power cable into an active inbound wormhole?”

“It is a physical impossibility under normal circumstances,” Teal’c said, then added with grim humor. “These are not normal circumstances.”

“Ya think?” Jack said, grinning. “Want to give it a shot, just to see?”

“Wait, wait - we’ll want to coincide with the next leak,” Daniel said misleadingly. “Any idea how to anticipate one?”

“Could do it without it?” Jack asked back dubiously.

“We may have only one opportunity; taking advantage of an already viable break would be the best use of it.” Teal’c looked over his shoulder at the too-still event horizon. “Also, the result may be very explosive. Perhaps only one of us should make the attempt.”

“That’ll be my job, then,” Jack said promptly.

Calmly Teal’c argued, “I am far stronger than you, O’Neill; I should be the one to try.”

“We can draw straws or something when the time comes,” Daniel said sharply, cutting through Jack’s argument before he could start it. Laboriously getting to his feet, hiding the sickening slice of pain from the effort, Daniel said as evenly as he could, “I think I might have seen something in Sam’s lab that can help pinpoint the next break. Don’t know if I can think of a way to use it *fast* enough, is the only thing. I’m going to go take a second look and see if I can come up with a way.”

Not giving them a chance to question him, Daniel made his escape before they could see through his lies. Part of him was writhing in guilt from doing it, but for the most part he was able to drown that out in the relief he felt from knowing what had to be done. “Not on the outside of the bubble,” he said to himself, barely aware he was mumbling aloud as he headed for the workshop simply because he had said he would. “Part of the skin of it. The lightning must have caused us to be reconstituted *into* the energy field when we got to the far end of the wormhole instead of on the other side of it. It’s fading away, because that’s how the gate functions, and we’re fading with it. That’s why no bodies of missing Ga’ould appeared. With all the energy sucked out of a body, it’s only so much microscopic dust particles cluttering the air supply.”

As Daniel talked, he reached into an inner pocket and took out a baggie of small white pills, fingers sorting out each tablet through the plastic as if to guess if there were enough. “Not blood, but not pain either. By damaging my body, my ‘energy,’ I disrupted the field, weakened it enough for reality to poke through. Disrupt it completely by removing my part of it, and I bet that bubble will tear wide open, leaving a Jack piece and a Teal’c piece intact because they’re just patches on it to start with.

“Ga’ould wouldn’t think of that, either. If they made the damage connection, they’d assume that’s all it would take and cheerfully torture Jaffar or whoever until they all faded, never quite making the breakthrough they were trying for.”

Stopping dead in the middle of the hall, not noticing he was face to face with a marine, Daniel asked himself, “Are you sure enough of your theory to test it the only way it can be tested? What if you’re wrong? You’ll leave Jack behind to die by inches, with no one to help him and Teal'c reason their way through this mess. You can't talk to Jack about it; he'll insist on being the one to try your little experiment. That isn't going to happen, not if I have anything to say about it." The determination in that last thought startled Daniel for a moment, but he had far more pressing matters on his mind, and he pushed it away.

"And if you wait too long, he'll blow himself and Teal’c up trying to ‘fix’ the Gate.” Suddenly focusing on the clueless face in front of him, Daniel said seriously, knowing hypothermia and fatigue had him skating the edge of rationality more than a little, “Soldiers boom first, think later.”

The amusement fell flat and he walked around the man, bouncing the bag of pills in the palm of his good hand. “I’ll have to let him know what I did and why, though. Even if it doesn’t work completely, it should give them a shove in the right direction. Leave a note? Nothing works outside of time, including pens. It’s going to have to be in person. So I wait until I can feel the effects, then tell him.”

He shivered hard, making his broken wrist reporting in with a dull, throbbing ache. “No time left to debate this, even with myself. The less tension in the 'skin' of the bubble from leakage and the harder it is to break would be my guess.”

Abruptly resolved, like a diver on the edge of a high board who knows that hesitation is truly the enemy, he opened the baggie and popped a few of the pills in his mouth. Dry swallowing them was difficult, and reluctant to go back for his canteen, Daniel took his bearings, realized that he was only a few doors away from where the marine captain was pouring himself a forbidden drink, and made his way there. Squeezing through the gap left him breathless with pain and oddly more determined than ever to go through with his plan. Hoping that there would be enough taste from the suspended column to make his mouth water enough for the pills, he licked the length of the stream of bourbon, grimacing at the bite on his taste buds. Not exactly a taste, they tried to resolve the 'almost but not quite' there presence of alcohol, but his plan worked well enough that he was able to get the entire contents of the baggie down after a while.

Before he finished he could feel his head start to float away on the narcotic lift of the painkillers, and Daniel deliberately jostled his wrist to keep his wits about him long enough to get back out of the room. Idly he wondered what the officer would make of having his door slam open, then his booze explode all over the room, but didn’t worry about it. Maybe the shock would be enough to get the man to go to AA. Fair trade for use of his bourbon, Daniel decided muzzily.

Vaguely realizing he was getting hit hard and fast by the medication, he pointed himself toward the Gate Room, and started shambling down the corridor. He made it to his destination more by pure stubborn contrariness than rational decision. His body wanted to lie down and take a little rest; *he* had to see Jack again. In a fight between body and heart, when Jack was involved, heart won.

As he went through the door for what felt like the thousandth time that day, Daniel clung to the frame for a second, trying to make his eyes track enough to find Jack. When that didn’t work, he tried to straighten and call out for him, but his knees gave out and he crumpled, banging his broken wrist on the way down. Despite the thick cushion of drugs, he cried out in agony, hearing his teammates chorus out his name from what seemed like a great distance away.

Hands he somehow recognized as Jack’s pulled him up from the cold floor and into a warm lap, and Daniel was content to let his head loll on the broad shoulder, bemused that he was being cuddled like a child. His wrist was gingerly examined, splinted with what felt like a belt and metal rods, and a dozen questions were poured into his hearing. None of them connected to a language he had access to at the moment so he ignored them all until Jack tucked two fingers under his chin and tilted his face up to stare into his eyes.

“Daniel! I said, what happened? And why do I smell booze on your breath?”

What happened covered far more territory that Daniel could express in the few words he could spot drifting by, so he answered the last question since it was simplest. “The water was here and I didn’t want to tell you why I came back for it.” A question of his own oozed by, so he asked, “How can people drink bourbon neat, anyway? It tastes *terrible.*”

“Jesus, are you out of it,” Jack muttered.

“O’Neill,” Teal’c said, worry thick in his rich voice. “There are two other injuries on this hand, one small nick, one cut. And there were three bursts through the time barrier.”

Astonished, Jack asked, “You think they’re connected?”

“DanielJackson was out of our sight during all three disruptions, all three were of increasing strength, just as these wounds are of increasing severity. And we know that nothing in SGC will operate properly for us, yet he claimed that he knew a way to pinpoint another break for our use and left us yet again.” Thick fingers pried up one of Daniel’s eyelids, then Teal’c added, “Does he not carry a quantity of Dr. Fraiser’s pain medication in the field with him?”

“Damn, damn, damn,” Jack swore and patted at the pocket where the pills had been, then rustling the empty plastic. “Daniel, how many did you take? How many?”

Relieved that he wasn’t going to have to find the concentration to explain what he and done and why, Daniel murmured sleepily, trying to pat Jack’s cheek with two fingers to reassure him. “Enough. Plenty. Mucho. I don’t think you actually have to do anything, by the way. To get back to normal time. Just wait a few more minutes. Shoving a ‘hot’ power cable into the Gate is *not* a good idea. Why do soldiers always boom first, anyway?” Sleep gathered on Daniel’s mind with undeniable weight, and he began to vanish beneath it, going reluctantly but accepting that it was time.

He forced his eyes wide open for a minute, looked into Jack’s, and tried to find something to say to ease the anguish and guilt there, but language had finally vanished completely. Common sense and sane reasoning were only vaguely present, which just left emotion. To his remote, detached shock, what came to the front was love, stronger than he had thought himself capable of and bearing no resemblance to the affectionately sexual feelings he’d unwillingly admitted to himself long ago.

Even more incredible was the answering flare of it in Jack’s dark, compelling eyes. Confused, but unwilling to lose that, Daniel gathered the image to himself as he succumbed to the drugs and exhaustion ensnaring him and began to lose consciousness. From a great distance away he heard Jack shout, “He’s not breathing!”

His unresponsive body was moved until he was flat on the cold metal floor, but though he was aware of that, Daniel didn’t really care. So far dying this time was a snap compared to the other times he’d gone through the process; it was peaceful, even pleasant. There was a far-off thud against his chest and repetitive pressure, then warmth - incredible, wonderful, remarkable Jack-scented and flavored warmth - covered his mouth and moved into his body.

It barely penetrated, then Daniel heard a deep inhale from Jack and more was blown into him, gently drifting deeper into his lungs, into his heart. It felt so good, as if it were melting an ice that had been in him since he was a child. His last thought as he was completely consumed by darkness was to wonder if a real kiss from Jack would have been as sweet as the kiss of life had been.

* * *

Waking again was a shock, and Daniel looked up at ceiling of the infirmary, not needing his glasses to know where he was because of how often he’d been there. Taking a moment to catalogue his miseries - sore throat that meant he’d been on a respirator for a while, aching ribs and stomach muscles, pounding head - he lifted his left arm, not surprised to find a cast covering it from fingers to elbow. It was the about the only thing that didn’t hurt.

“Teal’c must have gotten a bit carried away with the CPR,” he said casually to the person he knew would be sitting by his bed, then turned to look at him.

Jack got up and stalked over to stand beside him. “The Doc wouldn’t let me stay unless I promised not to chew you out until she gave medical clearance for it. So I want you to take note of how calm and friendly I’m being when I ask ‘what the hell did you think you were doing?” Jack spread his fingers and his hands wide as he spoke, as if to redirect his obvious fury to either side of both of them.

Too tired to have the entire argument, Daniel cut right to the point. “It worked. That’s all that matters.”

“And if it hadn’t?” Jack said tightly, his voice rough from suppressing his need to yell.

“Then you could have spent an eternity happily kicking my backside. We were out of time, and you know it. You still look like hell, Jack.” He did, too. His skin was pasty gray, and there were bruised-looking circles underneath his eyes that spoke of too little sleep.

Obviously choosing not to let himself be distracted by that, Jack swept a searching glance around the room to make sure they were alone and that the privacy screen was up around the bed, blocking the door and security camera. Then he bent close and whispered, “How could you have looked at me like that, then died in my arms like some heroine in a trashy school-girl romance novel? That was *not* the time or place to let something like that slip - not unless your intent was to rob me of peaceful sleep for the rest of my natural life!”

“I didn’t know!” At Jack’s snort of disbelief, Daniel said defensively, “It’s not a case of ‘don’t ask, don’t tell,’ for me. It’s a case of not having a damn clue! I was a happily married man, well past the stage of wondering about my sexual identity, and a few years too young to be having a mid life crisis when I realized I was attracted. So I pushed it away, pushed it down, refused to think about it, and got on with my life. What else could I do?” Then, before Jack could answer, Daniel went on the offense. “What’s *your* excuse?”

“Ah, hell, Danny.” Jack put his elbows on the railing of the bed, and dropped his head. “I’m literally decades older than you. I’m jaded, cynical, worn, damaged, and so scarred in so many places that I wonder if I’ve got any unmarked skin left – inside or out. And there’s an extremely high probability that I’m going to die in the line of duty because the reflexes are getting a little shop worn and thread bare. Why would I inflict myself on a man with a long, brilliant life ahead of him?

"Besides, if I’d had the slightest clue that you were looking, I still wouldn’t have risked you. ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell,’ doesn’t *work* and soldiers are notorious for being a good deal less than tolerant.”

Tentatively touching the fingers hanging over the rail, Daniel said, “Where does that leave us? Going back to the way things were, pretending we don’t know?”

“Can we?” It wasn’t a request or an agreement - it was a pained admission that Jack didn’t think it was possible.

For a moment Daniel thought about insisting that they at least try, but then the memory of the warmth Jack had breathed into him wrapped around his heart, and he said, “No, I don’t think we can.”

“So?”

“So why don’t you lie down before you fall down, Jack? Right now is not the best time to be deciding our future together. Not when we’re in this condition.” Suddenly ready to sleep for a year or so, Daniel closed his eyes and sighed, trying to find a position for his head that eased the ache in it.

“Best idea I’ve heard all day,” Jack said. A snick of metal as the railing was lowered popped open Daniel’s eyes, and he blinked in confusion as Jack gingerly climbed up on the bed beside him. “I’ll tell Fraiser you started having nightmares and this was the best way to calm you. She’s big right now on you staying calm.”

Not knowing what to say or do, Daniel automatically scooted over as far as he could, making a place for the long, lanky body. It felt…natural, then pretty damned nice when Jack settled in beside him, one arm over his waist, resting lightly alongside Daniel’s, fingers loosely twined around the ones sticking over the top of the cast. Jack pulled the spare blanket over his shoulders, then leaned on his elbow, head in hand.

They studied each other uncertainly for a moment, then Jack murmured, “One more thing we need to take care of before we get interrupted by the Doc or a Gate activation or Jerry Falwell.”

“What?”

“This.” Jack slowly bent toward him, giving Daniel time and room enough to stop him if he wanted. Mouth suddenly dry, heart racing, Daniel lifted his face the small amount needed to meet him half way. The kiss wasn’t anything like he always anticipated. Instead of carnal and raw, it was caring and tender, melting more of the unknown and unexpected coldness deep in side him.

A pleased, satisfied noise spilled out of him, and he opened to Jack, inviting him to explore with a soft tap of tongue to the bow of his lips. Making his own contented sound, his new love took him up on the offer, taking a long, dreamy time to acquaint himself with what Daniel liked best.

Just as Daniel decided that gay with Jack would be a very interesting thing, his lover pillowed his head on Daniel’s shoulder and took several deep breaths. “That,” he said on an exhale, “Was something.”

“Yeah?” Daniel said shyly, not trying to hide his uncertainty.

Reverently Jack breathed, “Oh, yeah.”

Sleepily, his last thought as he was succumbing to the overdose re-surfacing, Daniel said, “It was as sweet.”

“What was, Daniel?” Jack asked, sounding equally drowsy.

“Living for you is as sweet as dying for you.”

“Kindly keep that in mind the next time you feel compelled to sacrifice yourself for my ornery hide,” Jack mumbled.

“Yes, sir,” Daniel said lightly. Jack’s retort was a soft snore, and Daniel smiled, then followed his lover into rest.

*finis*