ALTERNITY, PART 3

Cascade, Washington

Knowing that he was insane, Jim decided bitterly, was absolutely no help at all in stopping himself from *acting* insane. It didn't even help knowing that he had a valid reason for behaving as if a few cards missing from his personal deck. He still uselessly, ridiculously prowled around the loft, double-checking all the barricades and locks, ignoring the worried looks his partner keep shooting his way. At least Blair hadn't objected to his constant presence or tried to talk him through his madness, but let him be with it.

Of course, that could be because Sandburg was sharing his lunacy, at least in part. There was no denying the very real physical pain that had randomly attacked them for the past few days. Thankfully, none of his episodes nor any of Blair's had done any physical harm, though his last had been severe enough to leave him wasted for hours. More importantly, there hadn't been another 'long distance rape scene,' as Blair had described that particular assault.

That Jim could almost wish for. Though he wouldn't let Blair sleep alone, he hadn't been able to relax his vigilance well enough to be able to make love with him again; despite being horny as hell simply because they had, and because it had been beyond incredible, and because they would again. If he could ever get rid of the clawing, gnawing sense of imminent danger that seemed to grow larger and closer with each passing minute.

At times, he thought Blair sensed it, too. Not once did he protest Jim's constant invasion of his personal space or the myriad of small touches and caresses. At times, Blair was even the one to do the invading, coming up behind Jim to wrap arms around his waist or to simply lean into him for a few heartbeats. It was strangely reassuring, and all that kept Jim from going off the deep end and screaming his rage and challenge to their unseen foe.

Just when he thought he would finally lose it and vent some of the immense pressure in a senseless act of violence, a feeling of overwhelming fear, as if standing in the path of a tornado and having no retreat, slammed into him. Without conscious thought he grabbed his partner by the upper arm and hustled him into the small bedroom, up-ending the futon and putting it in front of the door. A moment later, the desk was over-turned and blocking the corner nearest the fire-escape window, allowing Jim a clear shot at anyone coming through it but leaving it as a viable exit.

Through it all Blair watched wide-eyed, hefting a baseball bat that he'd snatched up on their way into the room. It wasn't until Jim pushed him into the corner and sat down in front of him, weapon up and ready that Blair dug in his heels. "No, no, you are not going to shield me. Back to back, Ellison! Do you hear me! Back to back, watching out for each other!"

Jim snarled and wouldn't budge, despite a hard punch to his back and a muttered, "Thick-headed, arrogant...."

Whatever else Blair had to say was lost as the tornado struck, not with devastating pain or fear or destruction, but with a pleasure too vast to be described by that feeble word. More intense than any orgasm, too consuming to be survived, it wiped out awareness of anything but itself. Then, as abruptly as it had descended, it was gone, but not the changes it had wrought.

When he dropped back into self-awareness, Jim found himself crouched on his knees and elbows, head hanging to the floor and his belly wet with his own seed. Blair was behind him, one hand painfully tight on his hip, the other scrabbling at his waistband in an attempt to get his pants out of the way for the hard-on grinding frantically at Jim's backside. Clumsily Jim succeeded in getting them down, but it was a moment too late. With an incoherent shout, Blair shoved against him hard enough for Jim to feel the pulses of his release.

Then Blair dropped on top of him like a dead weight, shaking violently and whispering his name over and over. Since it didn't seem like his lover was going to be able to move on his own any time soon, Jim carefully, slowly straightened himself out until he was laying on his stomach, Blair still resting on his back. Half afraid his partner would take it as a sign he was too heavy, Jim awkwardly reached back to hang onto a trembling thigh to hold him in place. In answer, Blair tunneled one hand under Jim's shoulder, fingers digging into his shirt tightly enough to tear the fabric.

They stayed like that until both were breathing normally again, then Blair murmured into the hollow between Jim's shoulder blades, "Is it always like that? Your senses, I mean? Bang! Out of nowhere, trying to stand up in a hurricane?"

"Not all the time," Jim said sleepily, remotely surprised he *was* sleepy. "Just when stuff gets weird."

"God, Jim, why are you still sane?" Blair sounded sincerely amazed and curious.

"Am I? And don't tell me that if I can worry about it, I still am."

To his credit, Blair thought about it before answering, "You're asking because of what's happening right now?" At Jim's affirmative grunt, he said thoughtfully, "There was a genuine, valid reason the last time you went strange on me. If I had thought that then, maybe Alex Barnes wouldn't have been able to do so much damage."

"You can't shoulder the blame for that one, Chief. Her wiring might have been all wrong, but she was closer to her instincts than I'll ever be. In some ways, she was a more pure sentinel because she didn't fight what her intuition told her."

Sounding far more alert that Jim felt, Blair objected, "Yeah, but..."

"That's right, yeah, but," Jim interrupted. "She blew into town and knew right away I was here and that it didn't mean any good for her. So she set out to do the one thing that could damage me most; peel you away, though she probably had no idea why it would work.”

Sandburg went from completely sated and boneless to bunched up guilt and frustration in zero flat, but before he could retreat, Jim hurriedly clarified. "It's not like you knew what she was up to, or that you had any reason not to take her at face value when she took you on."

"Jim, meeting her was a pure accident, literally," Blair protested.

"Was it? You mean to tell me that a known criminal, a convicted felon with plans to steal lethal gas, meekly allowed herself to be taken into a police department because of a bump on the head? Hell, the car she was driving wasn't even registered to her; she should have been gone before the first black and white unit showed up."

As Jim had talked, the body on him had gradually returned to its former melted state, and Blair spoke into his back again, as if enjoying the feel of the words vibrating in the skin there. "Knew there was danger... would have translated it to 'cop' because of what she had in mind... safe way to scope out the enemy... bait was talking about the sensory spike... shit.shit.shit.shit."

Blair was deathly quiet for a moment, then asked, "Jim, do you think it’s possible that what's happening now is being caused by another sentinel?"

"There's not one here in Cascade," Jim said promptly, willing to swear to that, though he couldn't explain why.

"That doesn't mean there isn't one behind these attacks," Blair prodded gingerly.

"I... I...." Jim trailed off uncertainly, not sure what to say.

"Okay, wrong tact." Blair thought again, then asked, "Jim, do you sense another sentinel?"

"Yes." That popped out without him consciously deciding on the answer.

"But he/she is not in town, not in your territory," Blair said reflectively. "Could this be some tactic to drive you out of Cascade? That could explain why you've dug in, fortified your home, instead of going out prowling."

"There's some sense to that," Jim agreed, turning the thought over in his mind. "The odd thing is, the attacks don't feel deliberate. It's more as if... as if...." He fumbled, trying to find a way to explain, getting irritated when he couldn't pin a describing word on the elusive thing flitting at the edge of his awareness. Frustrated, he flexed his shoulders to warn Blair he was moving, then slowly sat up. "Never mind."

Though he sat back on his heels, hand on the small of Jim's back to maintain contact, Blair didn't let their conversation go. "Maybe like we're being caught in a crossfire?" he suggested.

"You mean someone is going after this unknown sentinel the way Alex went after me?" he asked skeptically. "It would explain getting hit by the sex thing," Jim grudgingly added.

"That's what it was like; getting hit with it?" Blair asked curiously.

"Ever seen big cats - not lions, but tigers and jaguars - mate?" Jim asked absently, stripping off his shirt and trying to clean up the mess on his front with it. "The female entices the male out his territory by leaving scent markers for him that override his instinct to remain where he belongs. Then, when he does, she damn near tries to kill him because he's invaded *her* turf. Might ensure strong kits, but it's hell on the males."

"Give it up and take a shower," Blair advised, smirking slightly, but helping mop up the worst of the semen on Jim's back. "Yeah, that sounds pretty close to what she did. Beats me how you held off if it was as consuming as mating drives are supposed to be."

"She tried to use me to kill you. Again." Jim spat out the words. "Took too goddamned long for me to push down my instincts long enough to stop her, but I did and in time. God. And I'm supposed to trust them." He hung his head, rubbing at his eyes, seeing that whole slow-motion disaster in his mind's eye for the millionth time.

Needing to change the subject, Jim said curtly, "So we've gone from not knowing what's up to guessing there are *two* more sentinels out there dueling for territory, supremacy, mating rights, whatever?"

"Hey, it's a theory, at least," Blair said with an abrupt flare of anger, standing as he did. "Better than just crawling into a hole and pulling the dirt in after me."

Glad he was too tired to flare back, or maybe just seeing clearly that this was his partner's way of expressing the tension and frustration of the past forty-eight hours, Jim looked up at him said calmly, "Better than crawling into bed and seeing if we can't do better than coming in our pants for a change?"

That completely derailed Blair for a second. "You're not going to keep guarding?"

Shaking his head, Jim admitted, "I don't need to right now; the nagging is low-key, distant. Everything's telling me now's a good time to rest." He paused to grin crookedly. "Or something."

"Fight or flight sublimated into good, old-fashioned sex," Blair said thoughtfully,

then yanked his shirts off over his head in a wad. "Works for me."

"I thought it might."

* * *

Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado

Feeling very much as if he were sitting in the eye of a hurricane, Daniel settled himself gingerly on the edge of Teal'c's bed, taking his lover's hand in his, shielding the action with his body from watching cameras. Though Teal'c was in kal-no-ree, Daniel was sure that he was aware of him on at some level, and even if he wasn't, it was still good to hold that powerful hand, feel the heat and pulse of life in it. There was a serenity in that, in being in the night-hushed infirmary, and he was fairly sure that it was all the peace that could be found in SGC this night.

Jack was one walking rage, wanting to do something, *anything* to the Tok'ra that had been so afraid of losing their supremacy over the Tah'ree that they robbed Earth of the first, real, honest advantage they'd had since they ran into the Ga'ould. Sam was quieter, grieving, as if for the first time she understood that she had lost the father she remembered, and all that was left were the fragments strong enough to survive Selmak's corrupting influence. Before Teal'c had obeyed doctor's orders and rested, he had been tense with anger at himself for failing in his duty to protect their new teammates. Even Dr. Fraiser had been hard on herself, berating herself over and over for not doing more tests on the trizatas injury, or, at least, asking more questions.

Worst of all, Hammond was beset by presidential disappointment on one hand, and by a concentrated effort by Maybourne's allies on the other to have Jim and Blair removed from Cheyenne Mountain. So far, he had been able to stave off the latter by insinuating, backed up by statements in the official reports, that neither Colonel Ellison nor Dr. Sandburg would cooperate with anyone else. Jack had given that ploy teeth by pointing out that SG1 had already been given information and training by their visitors—and that each and every one of them would go to the brig before sharing it if Ellison or Sandburg were taken away from Fraiser's expert care.

Daniel had no doubt that SG1 would go to jail if necessary, though none of them knew anything of particular value. Strictly speaking, though, it was the truth, but that particular truth was in the subtext of what they had been told over the past few days. Everyone had been so focused on the technology, the *tools* promised by an advanced earth, that they hadn't paid attention to the *culture* underlying those advances.

Except him; he'd been sure from the first that he was missing something, that there was a silent language underneath the actual words used when Jim and Blair spoke about what they had to give. Daniel had had too little time and too few clues to interpret it, much to his frustration. It wasn't until he had seen the Gate blocked by what could only be called an act of will, until he had seen the bracelets fuse together as the partners fell, that he realized that he had his Rosetta Stone.

Unwillingly, but with the sense of calm staying with him, Daniel left Teal'c's side to stand by Blair's bed, which might as well have been Jim and Blair's bed, despite the fact that officially, Jim had his own. But with their wrists linked by the unbreakable nacquada, Fraiser had had no choice but to push the two of them close together and work around that. In the end she'd had to place Jim on his handcuffed side, letting him curl his free hand onto his mate's shoulder, IV needle in the back of it not withstanding. Blair was on his back, one leg pressed close against his spouse's, and the only movement he made besides the slow rise and fall of his chest was to put his leg back if it were moved away from contact with Jim.

Jim didn't have that much self-awareness. Mercifully, he was in a coma, far beyond what had to be unbearable agony as the tissues of his back slowly dissolved, the damage working inward toward his vital organs. According to Fraiser, there was nothing wrong with Blair except exhaustion and malnutrition, but he was unconscious despite that, vitals slowly dropping. Though she hadn't wanted to make the diagnosis, she had to admit it looked as though Blair was dying only because his mate was.

SG1 didn't doubt for a minute that was exactly what was happening.

But Daniel didn't think anyone besides him knew *how* it was happening. Hesitantly he reached across Blair to stroke a fingertip over the tarnished surface of the bands, which had only the barest glimmers of pure metal left. In his mind, he heard the introductions Jim had made a seeming eternity ago.

//PhDs in Anthropology and Psychology, not a physician,// Blair had said. But he'd also said that he'd been part of SG1 with their Daniel and Jack. Why would they need *two* civilian anthropologists on a single team? Daniel's specialty might be language, but that didn't usually take so much of his time that he couldn't function as team anthropologist, too. So what did Blair do for his SG1?

//We're out of time; nothing to do now but pray the soil is fertile,// Daniel had over-heard him say. On the surface that had sounded like Blair was referring to the accumulative effect of the temporal distortion, and the hope that they'd be able to convince the people of this Earth that he and his mate were sincere in wanting to help. But Hammond had already committed to cooperating with their unexpected visitors, they only needed to work out the details. And Blair knew then that Jim's injury was fatal. It had to be something else entirely that they were hoping would germinate.

"Higher cerebral functions as opposed to autonomic and instinctive. Emphasizing the human aspects, mind versus brain," Daniel murmured silently to himself, recalling his conversation with Blair before the first lesson on how to use the ribbon device. "Marrying hard science with that, to make leaps of developmental progress. *Developmental* progress. Human development. Each of them knowing when the other was hit with a temporal distortion, absorbing some of the effect, Blair's hands floating over his partner after one, as if feeling out how much strength he had, insisting on giving me the lessons, manipulating Jack to do it....”

On impulse, Daniel closed his fingers over the fused bracelets, and focused the way Blair had taught him, sending the energy he summoned into the changed nacquada. Gathering all his admiration for the two men, all the respect, all the grief at losing friends he’d hardly had a chance to know, he poured everything he felt into that surge of power. And was rewarded with Blair’s eyes slowly opening, though the machinery around them showed no change in his vitals at all.

They stared at each other for a moment, the barest of smiles on the bed-ridden man’s face. Then Blair glanced up at where the security camera was, then back to Daniel. Understanding that having anyone realize one of the patients had regained consciousness was probably not a good idea, Daniel bent over bed, as if plumping up a pillow and straightening out an IV line.

“Knew you’d get it,” Blair whispered, the sound barely a thread of moving air.

“Not fast enough. You’re not strong enough to teach me the rest, are you?” Afraid of remaining close for a suspiciously long time, Daniel ducked his head, hoping it looked like he was praying.

“No.” As faint as it been, Blair’s voice grew even softer, and his eyes slid shut again. “Get the other Sandburg,” he ordered gently. “He’s untrained, but he’s aware; we can work with that.”

“Hold on.” There was a faint nod of agreement, then Daniel felt the other man’s awareness fade. He waited a moment longer, gave a last touch to Jim's head, as if in farewell but really in order to slip out the earring the man wore. Sighing deeply, his sorrow very genuine, Daniel went back to Teal’c’s bed. For a long moment he clutched his lover’s upper arm, trying to communicate his heart to him, then left, moving as fast as he could.

Not sure if the wrong people were watching, not willing to take the chance, he went back to his own office, to all appearances going back to work. Under cover of checking a comparison on an artifact, he called up articles written on the Chopec, hoping that if anyone were monitoring his Internet usage, they wouldn't get the connection quickly enough. As he'd hoped, that search was enough to find links to lead him to the papers published by Blair Sandburg, which gave him a location: Rainier University, Cascade, Washington. Daniel wasn't really surprised to find he lived in the same city as the Jim Ellison he'd met, and, thinking a cop might make the news occasionally, he called up back issues of the Cascade papers to make sure Ellison was still there.

Downloading them to a CD without reading, he kept up the facade of working until he'd buried those inquiries under a dozen other truly valid searches. Then looking as distracted as possible, but half-deafened by his pounding heart, he took out the CD, scooped up his laptop, and left, coming back in a second later to pick up ribbon device as if he'd just thought of it. Half way to the weapons locker, he backtracked to Sam's office, jiggling the device once or twice, hoping to give the impression of reconsidering what to do it with.

She wasn't working—not that he had expected her to be. Instead, she was pacing around the small space, hands methodically dismantling into small pieces something that looked intricate and scientific and valuable. "Something wrong?" she asked, without looking at him.

"Everything," Daniel answered honestly. That got him a sharp look, but he didn't have anything to add to it that his eyes couldn't say for him more succinctly.

Apparently reading the sympathy and determination he knew was clear there, Sam smiled fractionally. "Maybe I should rephrase that. Is there something I can give you a hand with?"

Looking down at the ribbon device, Daniel bounced it so that the metal chimed discordantly. "Forgot to return this to the weapon's locker, and then on the way there, I got to thinking that it might be possible to make the same change to a staff weapon that we made to this so that only humans can use it." Before she could point out that it was two different types of armaments entirely, he added, "I know that you weren't present when Jim altered it, but he was teaching Teal'c to do it. Maybe you could take this and a staff into the infirmary and have him talk you through it."

Holding her hand in one of his, he placed the ribbon device in her palm and sent a feeling of intense danger to her, again letting his expression speak for him. The rising of her eyebrows told him she picked up on the silent warning, however subliminally. "How is Teal'c doing?" she asked slowly, checking out the security camera in her office from the corner of an eye.

"More than likely completely healed and waiting stoically for Janet to let him go, which she won't until she's convinced the bullet hole in his leg is healing right. He'd probably appreciate the diversion." Daniel waited expectedly, trying to keep his face and tone bland for the audience, and willing her to read his subtext.

"I could use one myself; I'm thinking too hard about the wrong things," she said, not without some self-derision. She walked out the door, Daniel following willingly. "Is there any change to the power mechanism that you know of?" she asked, plainly asking for the sake of potential listeners.

"Not that I saw, but Blair and I worked more on the application than the construction," Daniel answered honestly. Between the two of them they managed to keep up a conversation that sounded on the surface like a discussion on the two weapons, but was in truth, pure nonsense, like comparing medicine to ballistics.

At the first blank spot in the security coverage, Daniel whispered hastily, "Don't let anybody take them away while they're still alive, no matter what. Blair's defense shield was left with his other things in the infirmary; use it. I'll be back before they die, I promise."

"Daniel...." There was a world of worry and questions in the word, but Sam limited herself to that one, giving him a quick hug. "Take Jack with you."

"I planned on it." They were back into camera range, and he said, "Want me to brief the colonel or would you rather do it?"

"Your turn," Sam said, grinning. "You're the linguist. Go translate."

"Oh, joy. Thank you, Major Doctor." He grinned back, and took the turn for Jack's office while she continued on to the weapons locker for a staff.

If Hammond's people still had the base in hand, there wouldn't be any problems at all while he was gone, but Daniel didn't want to bank on that. No one would question Sam taking a staff to Teal'c, or staying in the infirmary with him. If there were traitors, or just officers who were waiting to see how things stood if the President withdrew his support from the general, then they might be suspicious, but not have any grounds to move. It wasn't much protection for Jim and Blair, Daniel knew, but hopefully, it wouldn't be necessary at all.

He caught Jack on his way out of his quarters, and from the fierce glower on his friend's face, he was probably keeping O'Neill out of the brig by giving him something constructive to do. Daniel grabbed him by the arm, all but dragging him to the nearest alcove where they could barely be seen and not heard at all, and said, "I need to talk to you."

"Hey!" Jack protested half-heartedly, not trying to get away.

"We need to get off the base without being stopped or anybody finding out where we're going," Daniel said urgently, trying to make it look as if he and Jack were arguing about something.

Truly angry, but not at Daniel yet, Jack snapped, "Why?"

"Do you want them to come all this way, try so hard to succeed in their mission, then fail because of the Tok'ra?"

All emotion faded from O'Neill's face, leaving behind only the mask of a covert op solider. "Tell me you have an idea, Danny. Please."

"I have an idea. But first, I've got to get off and back on the base without being stopped or missed. Can you help me with that?" Fighting the urge to glance guiltily up and down the hallway, Daniel waited patiently for his commander to make up his mind.

Finally, Jack smiled his quirky, cocky, 'oh yeah,' smile. "I've always wanted to see if I could break out of this place." It was his turn to take Daniel by the arm and lead him down the hall.

Blinking, Daniel pointed out quietly, "You did that once. I was with you. Remember?"

"Doesn't count; it wasn't really me."

"Well, technically speaking," Daniel started to argue, just for argument's sake, but he was smiling and more than willing for Jack to take command.

All in all, it took less than an hour to get out of Cheyenne Mountain, and was done so easily that Daniel couldn't help but wonder if his friend had spent a restless night or two working on an escape plan just for fun. Or maybe it was part of the covert operative mind set to always have sneaky ways out of top security sites. Either way, Jack commandeered a chopper without a question from the deck officer on the simple grounds that all qualified pilots were expected to maintain their air hours.

The long-ranged chopper he picked was built for a co-pilot, but didn't really only need one to fly it, and Daniel spent the time winging toward Cascade reading the material he'd downloaded. By the time they were ready to land, his 'translation' of the Colonel James Ellison and Dr. Blair Sandburg back at SGC was complete, leaving Daniel astounded at what he'd learned. Slowly, he shut down the laptop and destroyed the CD, thinking fast and furious all the while.

When he and Jack were on their way into Cascade in a borrowed jeep, Daniel said firmly, "This Jim and Blair have to come willingly, Jack. No threats, no coercion, no 'recalling to service.' Or what I have in mind won't work."

"You still haven't told me why we're coming after them," Jack complained. "They're not the ones who've lived through fifty years of fighting Ga'ould. Or are you thinking maybe you can convince Dr. Sandburg to stay alive for the sake of this Jim Ellison? We'd still lose the keys to his brain. Granted, the kinds of things he just tosses off in casual conversation has all our big IQ people running around in circles and howling, but still."

"I'm hoping everybody else is thinking the way you are and haven't even bothered to find out where they are." //Otherwise we might be doing a great deal of harm to two people who've already been through enough,// Daniel thought to himself. "It's hard to explain; you're just going to have to trust me on this one."

Picking up his sunglasses so he could stare with impact, Jack conceded, "I guess I owe you a few of those. Just be careful when you call them in."

Shaking his head, turning to watch the mountainous scenery roll past, Daniel said, "No, no you don't owe me. I don't want you to have this invisible tally going on where you give in to me on an issue because you feel you have to in order to keep the books balanced. The team works because we all bring different things to it, and maybe I argue with you more than I should - in public, Jack, in public -but when you listen to me it should be because you think I'm right."

"That's usually why I get pissed," Jack admitted, shocking him into whipping his head around to gawk at him. "You being right, I mean. Don't stop being the voice of reason, Daniel. Sometimes military types forget that weapons aren't the only method to accomplish the mission. Me included."

"Well... most of the time...you don't call in the military until it's time for shooting," Daniel had to concede. "Not as if I haven't used a bullet to make my point, once in a while, either."

"True, true," Jack agreed. They exchanged a grin, and Daniel put his head back on the seat, soaking up the early morning sunshine and trying to decide how to approach this Blair Sandburg.

When they pulled up in front of the building on Prospect Street that was listed in the phone book as home for Ellison & Sandburg, Daniel was no closer to a solution for that particular problem. Even when his knuckles hit the door for the first knock, he had no idea what he was going to say. A snarled, "Who is it?" came through the wood, and he automatically answered, "Dr. Daniel Jackson, Captain Ellison. Could I speak with you for a minute?"

There was a long silence; enough of a one that Daniel was about to rap again when the door opened a foot or two. The man who filled the opening was clearly one suffering from exhaustion and pain, on his feet through pure stubbornness. Red rimmed both vivid blue eyes, and there were deep lines of pain etched around the tightly held lips. "Dr. Jackson, this isn't a good time to be dredging up the past," Ellison said bluntly.

Daniel could see Blair Sandburg standing uneasily just behind his companion, looking as if he'd rather be glued to Jim's side, telling the linguist everything he needed to know about their personal relationship. He opened his mouth to apologize for intruding on the pair, but what came out instead in Quencha was, "The other sentinel sent me."

Instantly, Jim started to bring up the hand that Daniel hadn't been able to see for the door, and not waiting to see if it had a gun in it, he added hastily in the same language, "Or, more truthfully, his hunting brother sent me."

That confused the sentinel for a moment, long enough for Blair to wrap his fingers around his lover's tense upper arm. From behind him, Jack said softly, "Another one of those situations where English isn't necessarily the best language, Daniel?"

"As a matter of fact...." Moving in ultra slow motion so the action wouldn't be alarming, Daniel reached into his shirt pocket and fished out the earring he'd taken from Colonel Ellison of SG1. Palm up, he offered it to this Jim, hoping against hope that the scent or sight of it would evoke a positive reaction.

Gingerly, Jim took the silver hoop with its obsidian jaguar resting alertly in the bottom of the circle, frowning slightly, but obviously letting go of a measure of his wariness. He stepped back, opening the door wider, keeping Blair protectively behind him. To Jack, he said as they entered, "Do I know you?"

"I'm sorry," Daniel said hurriedly, gesturing from his commander to Jim, only belatedly realizing he was copying when he and Dr. Sandburg had first been introduced. "Colonel Jack O'Neill, this is .. it's Detective, right? Jim Ellison and his, uh..." He fumbled for the English equivalent of 'hunting brother.'

"My partner, soon to be Detective Blair Sandburg."

The two soldiers nodded at each other, as Blair gave a half-hearted wave, then Jack took a slow look around the room. "You expecting some trouble? This place looks fortified enough to hold off a small army."

Jim's expression turned murderous, but before he could say anything, Daniel stepped closer, holding both hands up as if to ask for peace. "They didn't know," he said quickly, intuition leaping to make the connection between the state the partners were in and the presence of their alternates. "The other sentinel and his companion - they didn't know you two would feel what was happening to them."

"What *is* happening?" Blair asked, his tone a mixture of frustration and honest curiosity. He dragged a shaking hand through his hair, then waved it in a circle to encompass their home. "You think it looks like we're under siege? Well, it feels like we're under siege, and we don't have clue who the enemy is. We thought it was finally getting better, last night, but it just...changed."

"Look, you deserve the answers, and we want to give them to you," Jack said unexpectedly. "I wouldn't mind a few myself," he added darkly, just for Daniel's ears.

Ellison snorted impatiently, and Jack went on, "But we're stationed out of Cheyenne Mountain. You're ex-Ranger; you know what that means."

"Classified Top Secret: Need to Know," Jim snapped out. "Which means you're not going to tell us squat. What'd you do; drop by to see for yourselves what kind of side effects your experiments were having? How'd you get your hands on the poor saps? Play the patriotic card? Or simply harass them until they had no choice?"

Before Jack could answer attitude with attitude, Daniel risked a careful, brief touch to the sentinel's forearm. "Considering the way your service ended," he said cautiously, "I can see why you might not trust anyone in a military uniform, but you have to know not all soldiers are mindless killing machines, not all commanders are tin-plated dictators. The people we work with, our team, they truly are the officers and gentlemen they swear to be."

Practically feeling Jim's hostility ebb, Daniel said earnestly, "Come back with us and let us show you that. See for yourselves what's going on so that you can understand and decide if what we're doing is right."

Jim didn't seem at all convinced, but Blair bit his bottom lip nervously, staring up at his partner. Without looking at Daniel, he asked in Quencha, "The other sentinel? He dies?"

Half afraid to answer that, Daniel answered honestly anyway. "Yes."

"What will happen to Jim if he does?" Blair inched closer to the bigger man, giving up all pretense of keeping a socially polite distance.

"I don't know." Daniel lifted his glasses to pinch at the bridge of his nose, then decided not to hold back. "To be truthful, I'm scared to even guess."

"Jim," Blair said hesitantly, "If I have more information, if I can speak to the other, ah, companion, maybe between us, we can sort this out."

"If it helps," Jack volunteered, "You can take your gun and badge; I give you my word that no one will try to stop both of you from coming and going as you please." His slightly ironic emphasis on 'my word' showed that he wasn't letting Ellison completely off the hook for the insults thrown.

The stubborn set of Jim's jaw hadn't changed, and, mentally taking a deep breath to brace himself in case he set the sentinel off, Daniel threw out his trump card. "The companion is dying, as well. We think it's because his mate is."

There was a flash of pure panic in the blue eyes, then Jim bit out through a clenched jaw, muscle telegraphing his ire, "Sandburg, we could be putting our heads in a noose."

"I know, I know. But there are easier, cleaner ways to get to us than this, and you know it." Blair didn't seem to have anything to add to that, and the two of them studied each other for a moment before Jim reluctantly nodded.

Catching Jack's eye, the sentinel said flatly, "Your word, Colonel?"

"My word. And I'll tell the President himself, to go piss up a rope if he doesn't back me," O'Neill said as flatly.

"The President?" Blair nearly squeaked.

"The President. That's how important this is." Gesturing at the door, Jack added, "The good news is that I have a chopper waiting for us; the bad news is that we have to move right now."

"They were in pretty bad condition when we left," Daniel said reluctantly.

Obviously still not completely convinced, Jim took two coats off of the hooks near the door and handed one to Blair. "Let's get on with it, then."

Jack led the way out of the apartment, and Daniel heard Blair mutter, "Flying. Oh, joy, it really can always get worse."

* * *

Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado

After spending the flight to Colorado unashamedly huddling up next to Jim, as if by holding onto him physically, he could stop his lover from leaving him permanently, Blair had trouble convincing himself to walk a decent distance away from him on the way into the complex. It helped that O'Neill was obviously bullying and threatening guards to get them all past the security check points, forcing Blair to act as if he were a VIP on official business. At Jim's questioning glare between stops, Daniel confessed that they were trying to keep the brass out of the loop as much as possible, though he didn't explain why.

It wasn't until they were on the way down to a sublevel so far below the ground that Blair decided they would need to decompress before going back up to the surface, that Daniel and Jack began to relax. That told him that they were near to the end of the trip, and the odd, strangling fear that had gripped him since he and Jim had climbed the stairs to the upstairs bed returned in full force. Like last night, it drove everything out of his head except the need to possessively cling to his lover, giving him a deep appreciation of just how confusing and bewildering it was for Jim when his senses demanded an action that made no sense.

To make matters worse, Jim's instincts started cranking up again, as well, and he lagged behind, subtly searching with his senses. "What?" Blair whispered.

"I don't know," Jim muttered back. "There's something, a scent, a feeling in the air... like static electricity...." He trailed off uncertainly, coming to a stop in the corridor and looking back the way they had come as if he wanted to leave.

"Jim?" Daniel asked, stopping as well, then his eyes went wide. "Damn, I forgot. Jack, do you remember what happened when Teal'c went into the Gate room?"

"Yeah, so?" Jack said shortly.

"I think we're about to have a repeat performance," Daniel said shortly, mystifying Blair completely.

Plainly just as mystified, Jack backtracked to join them. "Why?" he asked in pure exasperation, flinging his hands out to underline it.

"Ah, you see," Daniel said very seriously, "I haven't had time to tell anybody everything, and I'm not sure who I've told what... not to mention that most of what I think I know I don't know for sure that I know."

For a second no one said a word, then Jack asked plaintively, "Did anybody get *any* of that?"

"Secrets are a bitch," Blair said to Daniel understandingly, feeling the tug of a smile when Jim and O'Neill exchanged the completely simpatico look of soldiers suffering civilian genius as best as possible. "Start small. What are you specifically worried about?"

"Jim killing my... teammate, Teal'c," Daniel answered distractedly. "When the other sentinel met him, he had an instant, instinctive murderous reaction."

"Sentinel?" Jack asked, only to have the question brushed aside with, a muttered 'later' from the linguist. Not deterred, he added, "He's been fighting Jaffa all his life; of course he wanted to kill him. This guy's never met one before."

"Maybe not, but I don't think that's going to make a difference." Daniel eyed Jim uneasily, then said, "Explanations would take too long; just promise me that you won't kill anybody in the near future."

For a moment, Blair thought his partner was simply going to walk away from the whole thing, but then he carefully un-holstered his gun and gave it to his partner. "There are three of you," Jim said dryly. "That should be enough to keep me from using my bare hands."

To Blair's surprise, Daniel sighed, and said, "I hope. Come on." He took the lead, bringing them to a small room that looked and smelled like a hospital emergency room.

The second they stepped over the threshold, Blair saw and felt Jim go jungle alert, hand automatically going to his empty holster. With a sound that was frighteningly like a snarl, he turned in a small circle as if looking for an enemy, then leaped at a big black man sitting on the edge of a gurney on the far left side of the room. Or rather he started to; warned by the change, Blair had grabbed onto one arm a split second before, Daniel getting the other one.

Regardless, Jim dragged them both forward a step before O'Neill jumped onto his back, the combined weight of the three of them forcing the sentinel to his knees. Blindly struggling with all of them, Jim almost got to his feet, then a petite woman in a doctor's uniform planted herself in front of him and grabbed him by the collar. "If you don't behave yourself right now," she said firmly, "I'm going to sedate you and let the MP's carry you off to the brig. Do I make myself clear?"

Jim blinked at her, and Blair didn't think the command in her voice was going to be enough to pull him back to reason. It gave him the chance to trade places with O'Neill, though, and he plastered himself against his lover's back, arms wrapped around his chest. He stretched up to whisper in an ear, "Easy, easy. We're out-numbered and out-gunned. Save it for when we've got a chance. Besides, you promised."

That seemed to sink in; Jim sank back on his heels, shaking his head slightly. "Okay, okay. Not right now." Then he glared at the man he'd tried to attack. "What the hell *are* you?"

Blair took a good look at the person he guessed was Daniel's Teal'c. Other than the gold tattoo on his forehead, and the fact that he looked bigger and more buff than Simon Banks, arguably the biggest man Blair personally knew, he couldn't see anything about him unusual enough to cause such a violent reaction in Jim. Then Teal'c stood and walked slowly toward them, obviously gauging how close he could come without upsetting Jim again. Something about the way he moved, the way he held himself, or maybe the ancient, solemn pain in the ebony eyes set off Blair's own alarms, and he tightened his hold on his lover.

"I am a slave to false gods," Teal'c said quietly, answering Jim's question. "Who will never again bend his knee to any being. I am a weapon that has turned against its maker, a soldier devoted to the destruction of any that would take another's mind and person against their will." Cautiously, he knelt as well, lifting his shirts and showing an X-shaped scar on his abdomen.

With rising horror, Blair realized that it wasn't a scar, and the edges of the wound pushed outward as a sinuous, slithering something poked through. Recoiling, pulling Jim with him, he gasped and stuttered, "Wh... what the..."

"It is an infant Ga'ould," Teal'c answered, plainly expecting the reaction, and Blair could only feel compassion for a man who had to live with that burden. Morbidly fascinated at the sight of the thing oozing back into its living nest, he barely heard the rest of Teal'c's explanation, picking out the essential information that this was the enemy Jim sensed and reacted to so violently, and that when it was mature, it would enter the brain of a living being and use it for its host.

"And you can't live without it," Jim said shortly, pulling Blair back completely to the conversation.

"I cannot. But I will destroy it and myself before I allow another to be taken. Until then, I fight to destroy all Ga'ould." Teal'c stood, offering his hand to Jim. "What do your people call those with your gifts?" he asked quietly.

Jim hesitated, looking at the outstretched hand, then at Daniel, who had been uncertainly hovering close the entire time. He turned his head back as if to look at his lover, and Blair rubbed a cheek over his shoulder blade to tell him he'd trust his judgment. "Sentinel," Jim said, taking the proffered help and getting to his feet. "The other one like me, he's fighting these snake things, too?" Blair stood with him, not surprised when his lover pulled him around to stand at his side, one arm loosely around his waist.

A blonde woman in uniform who had been watching from a discreet distance said clearly, "Not like you." She pulled aside a privacy curtain, showing two men in hospital beds pushed together, the usual wires and tubes in place. "He *is* you."

For several days, Blair's emotions had been taking radical swings in so many directions that he honestly couldn't remember what normal felt like. But seeing Jim, an older, seriously worn and ill Jim, lying in that bed, derailed him completely, leaving him in a blessed state of numbness. Almost against his will, Blair drifted away from his Jim, watching him from the corner of his eyes as his lover hesitantly approach the other man on the opposite bed. Then Blair timidly touched the short gray hair of the new sentinel, distantly acknowledging the zing of familiar recognition at the contact. This Jim’s hair was finer, but much thicker than his partner's, though he would have bet that his Jim would be completely bald when he was this man's age.

Daringly, he traced the deep lines around the eyes, thinking vaguely that Jim had aged well; he looked distinguished and wise. Blair didn't need the too-slow beep of the monitor to know that the sentinel was nearly gone; a part of him grieved at how little life was left in the still buff and trim body. Obeying an odd impulse, he bent and kissed the pale, lax lips, then turned his attention to the other bed.

His lover was standing over an older version of Blair, running a single graying curl through two fingers, sorrow darkening his eyes, dampness touching the lashes. Unable to bear that, Blair went to him, fitting himself to his lover's side to re-assure both of them.

"Time travel?" he heard himself asking from a great distance.

"Do you know about the theory of alternate dimensions?" the blonde soldier asked quietly.

Blair nodded, unable to take his eyes off of his other self, not surprised when Jim did as well. He listened as best he could to her explanation of how and why their counterparts came to be on this Earth, not really understanding parts of it and not really caring. When she seemed to have wound down, he said, "Jim and I have been feeling those, what did you call them, temporal distortions, with them, getting weaker and weaker with each attack. And now that they're dying, I think they're accidentally taking us with them. Is there any way for us to break the connection before it's too late?"

Startled, she looked back and forth between the pairs several times, then admitted, "It never occurred to me that could happen. The only other experience we've had with a double coming through the mirror, there was no indication of any link."

"Dr. Sandburg said that the effect was cumulative; the more Earths they visited, the worse it got," the doctor said quietly, coming over and taking Blair's wrist in hand, fingers already on the pulse point. "That could have something to do with it."

"More likely," Daniel said cryptically from his perch next to Teal'c on a nearby bed, "It's because of what they are as well as who. And Dr. Sandburg may know what to do."

"Fat lot of good that does," Jack said. He left his post by the door and leaned on the bed on the other side of Daniel. "He's out cold."

Not looking at anyone, but studying the floor as if it were fascinating, Daniel said, "I think Detective Sandburg can bring him around."

"How?" Blair asked, astonished.

"That's part of what I haven't really had a chance to tell anyone. And... well... I'm fairly sure that, ah, you're all going to have a problem believing me." Frowning, Daniel said, "The last thing Dr. Sandburg said to me was that his alternate was aware but untrained." Finally raising his head, he caught Blair's eyes. "Untrained in what?"

The precious numbness that had been cushioning Blair broke with an almost audible pop and the memory of Incacha's bloody hand gripping his arm swept over him. With the image came the fear, the pain, the surprise, and, as always, the strange rush of sensation that he had never had a name for. "I... I..." Blair stammered, not sure what to say, grateful for the strong squeeze from Jim telling him that he didn't have to say anything unless he wanted.

"Would it help," Daniel, apparently choosing his words carefully, "If I told you he was trying to teach me but I didn't understand what until too late?"

Taking a deep breath, Blair said, "I'm standing here five feet from a real, live alien, and a duplicate of myself from another dimension, and you want me to stretch the envelope just a little bit more and accept psychic abilities. Why not?"

A spate of questions broke out from the doctor, Carter and O'Neill; only Teal'c raised an eyebrow as if several things suddenly made sense. Daniel hurriedly promised to give everyone the details as soon as he could, then he got off the bed and came to stand by Blair.

“I'm not sure exactly what you should do; Dr. Sandburg gave me the impression that you would know. The one thing I can suggest is that you touch the bracelets they're wearing when you try to wake him."

Uncertainly, Blair reached for the odd-looking metal fused around the wrists of the two unconscious lovers, stopping before he touched it. "Bracelets?"

"Marriage bracelets, Colonel Ellison told me," Daniel clarified. "It was two separate bands until he fell into the coma he's in; then they melted into one; I think because they told them to."

"Okay, bracelets," Blair murmured to himself, fingers hovering a second more, then closing firmly over the metal. Though he felt more than a little foolish, he took a cleansing breath and tried to clear his mind as if he were going to meditate. Almost instantly a buzz traveled along his spine, reminding him of Incacha's touch, but coming from him this time and much more low-key. Then Jim drew Blair flush to his body, as if he felt the buzz, too, so that they were back to belly and it turned into a vibration that made Blair's joints ache.

Sighing softly, the other Sandburg's eyelids fluttered, then opened all the way, though it took him a moment to focus. He and Blair stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, then he flicked a look over Blair's shoulder, a tiny smile blossoming. "Good," he barely whispered. "Hold on tight to him."

"Why..." Jim started.

Blair never heard the rest of the question; his mind turned inside out, with quick bursts of images, ideas and feelings punctuating the dizzying journey. He watched an entire life flash by in a heartbeat, savoring each second of it in an eternal now, not participating in his other self's existence but learning it as if it were a text he had to memorize. The content of his counterpart’s childhood wasn’t that different from his own, but the context was. While he mentally reeled under the weight of absorbing and understanding it that Blair grew to young adulthood, went to college, earned his masters, and slowly grew obsessed with sentinels, just as Blair had himself. Unlike Blair, his alternate hadn’t found a research subject, though he once traced the author of a paper that hinted at one who lived with the Chopec of South American all the way to Colorado Springs and the home of a retired Air Force colonel.

He’d had no choice but to write his dissertation based on the many myths and legends he’d found, and while it’d been enough for his Ph.D, it had left him unsatisfied, and he’d roamed for several years after receiving it. But his journeys to find a real sentinel had only brought him more frustration, and eventually he’d returned to Rainier to teach. Before he had begun, however, he’d received a call from the Dr. Jackson he’d once tracked to Colorado Springs, urgently asking him to visit.

There he’d met an Army Ranger with desperation and fear in his brilliant blue eyes, and three seconds after saying the wrong thing, Dr. Sandburg wound up slammed into a wall and totally losing his heart. He’d fought it, even as he and the sentinel spent six months living together in Cascade, Colonel Ellison supposedly on an educational sabbatical, but really learning to control his senses. In the end, however, O’Neill had summoned Ellison to the SGC, frantic for any edge he could find for fighting the Ga’ould, even one he wasn’t sure was for real. Faced with the very strong possibility that his sentinel would die without backup, Dr. Sandburg went with him, fighting O’Neill every step of the way.

Despite the mental distance, Blair’s heart ached for his alternate as he gave up an academic’s life for that of a soldier’s, rejoiced with him when he and his sentinel became, first lovers, then mates, and finally, when they had thought they could get no closer, lifemates. He shared their surprise when Daniel discovered crystallized nacquada, and their astonishment when Dr. Sandburg accidentally learned that it was responsive to human will, amplifying it under the right circumstances. Blair learned with him as he explored this new potential, growing with him from a student of mental disciplines, to a master, then to adept. And when Dr. Sandburg found that one crystal, charged in a certain way by two separate wills, gained a sort of quasi-life dependent upon both those wills, Blair wept with him in relief that neither he nor his life mate of fifty years would never have to live without the other. The changed nacquada would draw on both life-forces to sustain the dying one, effectively killing both.

With a last burst of memory, Blair shared their decision to travel the alternities when their death was in sight in the dim hope of finding a way to make their last hours useful, only to have it all come to nothing. Both of them were struck down before Dr. Sandburg had been able to share enough of the teachings that he carried within him.

Finally, Blair and his counterpart stood face-to-face, mind-to-mind, each dazed by what had spun out between them in half a thought’s time. “You want me to take your place,” he murmured, still not quite accepting. “To be this Earth’s SG1 adept, give them what you couldn’t.”

“Only if that is what you choose,” Dr. Sandburg answered. “But you should know that I believe that, sooner or later, you will be drawn into the fight against the Ga’ould, if for no other reason than because all able bodied men will have to become soldiers to defend your world. And isn’t this sort of battle what *your* sentinel was born for?” He grinned widely, and the faint image of his lifemate forming behind him, spectral arms coming around him. “Besides loving you?”

Blair would have felt envious at the ease and power between the lovers if Jim hadn’t been holding him the same way, his breath warm and comforting on his neck. He shook his head slowly. “Jim’s been living and working as sentinel for over four years now; he might now want to leave his ‘territory,’ his ‘tribe.’”

“So it’s up to you,” Colonel Ellison whispered, his words barely carrying despite the fact they were only in Blair’s mind, “To convince him that all of humanity is his tribe, not just one city’s worth. If you don’t, he’ll always regret passing up the chance to make a difference before the whole world is drawn into war. Trust me on that.”

“I guess,” Blair said wryly, “I could consider you a good source. The trick will be getting him to believe that we really had this conversation.”

“That,” Dr. Sandburg said, his voice becoming fainter and fainter, “May not be as hard as you think. Or do you truly think he’s not with you now?”

Before Blair could reply to that startling question, the couple faded away from his consciousness, leaving him suddenly weak and very dizzy. Distantly, he felt Jim scoop him up into his arms, holding him as if he were a small child, then it was all over, and he was sobbing into his partner's shoulder for no one reason he could name.

A mechanical squeal pulled him out of hiding in time to see the older Blair clumsily, tiredly roll so that he could snuggle into his mate, murmuring his name lovingly. Another monitor began its warning wail, but when the doctor rushed over, Blair stopped her with a shake of his head. "No. This is their choice; it's *always* been their choice. Leave them be."

When she started to argue, Daniel put a hand on her shoulder. "They knew this was how it was going to end when they began their travels through the Quantum Mirror," he said, the words coming as if they were too bitter for his tongue. "They've earned their rest, Janet. Let them go. Please, just let them go."

In answer, she turned to her monitors and flipped a few switches, creating a silence that echoed in Blair's ears for a long, long time.

Epilogue

Trying not to let himself be distracted by the smooth expanse of perfect back stretched out in front of him, Daniel concentrated on the small invisible globes of energy at the tips of his fingers, digging them gently into the ripple of muscles beside Teal'c's spine. "Come on," he coaxed quietly. "Let go. Jim and Blair will be out house hunting for hours yet, it's the middle of the day and all the neighbors are gone. Let go, let me hear that you like what I'm doing to you."

"You know that I do," Teal'c rumbled. He lay very still under the unique massage; the only indication of how good it felt was his fists powerfully clenched on the edge of the mattress.

Daniel worked a little lower, into the small of his lover's back, and gingerly enlarged his imaginary spheres so that they penetrated a bit more deeply. With a tiny cry that Daniel would have missed if he hadn't been listening for it, Teal'c arched back into his touch, sending a jerk of pure pleasure through Daniel. It threatened to break his focus, and he said to calm himself down, "You know, it wasn't that long ago I was wondering why I even bothered to keep a place off-base, myself."

As if to deny his slip, Teal'c asked in a maddeningly ordinary voice, "You now have that information?"

"Matter of fact, I do." Daniel turned his attention to the sleek curve where back became ass cheek, resisting the urge to bend and kiss the downy skin. "I was trying to keep a part of myself for myself, instead of becoming Dr. Daniel Jackson of SG1 and nothing else."

"You have always been more than a teammate to me, Daniel."

Teal'c sounded so serious that Daniel looked up from his self-appointed task, and smiled into the solemn eyes peering over a wide shoulder. "I know that now. And I know that being Dr. Jackson is a very important part of me; I can't imagine not being with Jack as part of SG1. But I'm a student again, and I like that more than I thought I would. Blair's a great teacher, though it's going to take years for both of us to become adepts like Dr. Sandburg was. Along with that, I'm a scientist again, too, helping Sam keep track of the research inspired by his nifty little information virus. I'm liking that a lot, too."

In his mind's eye, he saw Dr. Sandburg with his hands resting on the computer keyboard at SGC, and he chuckled. If they'd had a clue what an adept like Blair could do to a computer with a touch they would have never, ever let him near one. As it was, hard as Maybourne's cohorts tried, they couldn't stop the endless flow of anonymous emails, websites, 'posthumous' research papers and journal articles created by the virus. Not that it would have helped if they could; so far only SG1 and Hammond knew about the backup left in Daniel's laptop.

Going back to his massage, absently pleased that he hadn't lost the energy he'd summoned, Daniel began working over Teal'c's backside, inching his way toward the dividing cleft. "Best of all," he went on, sure that Teal'c had hardly noticed the lapse in conversation, "I'm your lover, and this is our home now, and I *am*going to make you scream before I'm through with you today."

"I do not doubt that, Daniel," Teal'c all but growled, beginning to rhythmically rub into the sheets. "I am not, however, willing to cooperate as yet."

"Good," Daniel purred back, thumbs slipping along the dark line, creating a longer, thicker probe to delve into it. "Because this kind of control takes practice." He found the hidden center of his lover's body and slid both thumbs into it, opening it wide and pouring an intense shaft of energy into it. Teal'c bucked hard, and whispered Daniel's name exactly the way he loved to hear it most—as if there were a lifetime of love behind it.

Smiling to himself, Daniel murmured, "Lots and lots of practice."

finis