Author's Notes: Special thanks to the beta readers - Laura Kwartler, Erin Gieg, Ivanova, and Rosean LaChance. Many gratitudes to Laura Kwartler for suggesting the title.
DISCLAIMER: All characters and property of Stargate SG-1 belong to MGM/UA, World Gekko Corp. and Double Secret Productions. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
Cats have nine lives, but I wonder how many monkeys possess. More specifically, how many lives a space monkey can have. Feels like the guy's been dead, thought dead, nearly dead, or almost dead more times than I can remember. And he's still walking at the end of it, which would be something that would have my old Irish granny talking about the grace of God.
Like the last mission. P8K556 was the designation. I'm frankly amazed that I still remember the names of those planets, but that's not the point. What was the point was how Daniel was jumping around when we found that the Stargate was in a valley. It was huge, bigger than the Grand Canyon. I had to tilt my head all the way back to take a look at the top.
The size was impressive. The rocks had Carter fascinated, and Teal'c appeared to be just in awe of the site. I just couldn't figure out what had Daniel in ecstasy. I mean, all there was were rocks. Literally. Not the artifact type of rocks that I like to tease Daniel about, but real, old-fashioned, boring, regular rocks. And lots of it.
That was when he pointed to an area somewhere in the shadows of the cliffs, but I couldn't see anything there. No, he said, there was indeed something there. I told him to breathe, since he looked just about ready to faint, then pulled out my binoculars to take a closer look.
For lack of a better word, it was a city. Maybe a fort. I stared at it in fascination, while Daniel was launching into a rampant lecture about southwestern American Indians who had similar constructions. I told him to can it as I tried to figure out how high it was. Carter had snapped out of her own scientific delirium to see what Daniel's fuss was all about, and she thought it was maybe a couple of hundred feet from the bottom, nicely not quite in the middle of the cliff.
Teal'c found some kind of pathway up there, and before I could even think about whether it was a good idea to explore the area, we were suddenly lacking one archaeologist. I yelled at Daniel as he started half-climbing, half-walking up the walkway. The man is like a kid in the playground, doesn't put any consideration into anything.
Seeing that he wasn't falling, and taking into the consideration that for a man who was afraid of heights, Daniel was really gung ho about climbing those heights, we followed him. Somehow, I had the feeling that this was going to be like the aforementioned cat. Excited to climb the tree, but scared shitless to climb down.
Who was it that said that if you think something, it was bound to happen? We reached the city with no problems, only to find that it was more of a village. It just looked big from the old river basin. Not much was left for us to look through, but there were a few clues as to why the place had been built. Both Daniel and Teal'c agreed that it might have been a look-out point for the local inhabitants, in case the Goa'uld came through. How they warned the others, and how the Goa'uld never noticed this little encampment, we weren't sure.
Filming everything, practically down to the dust and pollen that had accumulated over the decades, centuries or millennia since the area was last used, Daniel was finally ready to go after half an hour. Teal'c and Sam were looking at God knows what, and me, I just lounged about, watching my team work. And keeping my eye on Daniel, the five year old in the thirty-four year old body.
What goes up, must come down, went the song. Groovy. Well, in theory, anyway. Teal'c went first, then Carter, and then I motioned for Daniel to follow them. I wanted to take the rear point, and that was when we hit the cat in the tree scenario.
It took about five minutes to coax Daniel down. I knew that he was probably mortified about his reaction, especially since it was his own damned fault that he was up there, and I couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him. The day I figure out how he does that... I have to admit, it was a long way down, and it did look further than I originally thought. I followed behind him very closely, making sure that he knew I was behind him. Of course, I hadn't the foggiest if it would make a damned difference if he actually slipped and fell -- and in the end, it didn't.
He tripped, and after scrambling for a handhold or a foothold, he tumbled down the path. Ouch. I lurched forward to catch him, missed him by mere inches, and ended up with a handful of pebbles. Alerted by the sound of his voice, Carter and Teal'c looked back and saw the tumbling archaeologist heading their way. Hmmm, might make an interesting circus act. "Live from the SGC, it's the Tumbling Archaeologist! The Amazing Space Monkey!" Might work.
They weren't too far from the bottom when it happened, but it was still quite a distance. Carter couldn't have stopped him if she tried -- to tell the truth, I don't know if I could've, either. Teal'c, the man's like the Rock of Gibraltar. And, no, I don't care if they're also known as the Pillars of Hercules, who should really be called Heracles, who was actually some dude from Greece that was half mortal and half divine, and who had a goddess really pissed at him. Can you tell I've heard the story before? The moment Teal'c saw Daniel heading his way, he reached out to stop his tumble, but not before Daniel teetered off the path.
I thought my heart was going to stop, but Teal'c wouldn't be Teal'c if he weren't reliable. Somehow, he caught Daniel and held him fast before he could fall any further. Then came the stunned feeling that always reminds me of the quiet after an explosion, when the senses and the intellect don't agree on what just happened. I got off my front and hurried carefully down to where Teal'c was slowly pulling Daniel back onto the path, and Carter was helping him. Daniel was ashen-faced, looking as though he might be sick, faint, or who knew what. His glasses were gone, his face and hands scratched, and I didn't like the sounds he was making as he was finally hauled onto the path. I wouldn't be surprised if his shoulder was jarred pretty badly.
Injured team member aside, we deciding that it would be a good idea to send a UAV or another SG team to explore the area outside the valley. Carter dialed us home, and I helped Daniel through the 'Gate for the rough and tumble ride home.
With all the emergency calls and medical attention SG-1 has had since the Stargate Program began, I sometimes wonder if we should officially change our team's name to SG-911. It's not just Daniel. I've had my own fair share of bad luck, incidents that taught me very valuable life lessons. Don't eat the local food, is one of them. Another is don't take home weird alien devices when you don't know what they might do. Like I said, very valuable life lessons.
As soon as we arrived home, Daniel was escorted to the infirmary, probably to his reserved spot. The rest of us headed to discuss matters with a perplexed General Hammond. If I had a dollar for each time we come through that 'Gate to find him staring at us in various states of shock, I'd be a rich man.
Our three-person narration of the events on P8K556 certainly had Hammond's attention, and when I summarized by recommending a further exploration of the planet, he agreed. Easy enough. We were put on stand-down for the next few days, hopefully long enough for Daniel to recover from his injuries, and then we were dismissed. Short and sweet, just the way I like it.
My next destination before hitting the locker rooms was stopping in at the infirmary. I wanted to see how the wayward geek was doing. I hopped on the nearest elevator and punched in the right floor.
My blurred reflection faced me as the door slid shut. I stared at it as the car gave a shudder before moving up, wondering just when that particular grey color had appeared at my temples. Oh, for crying out loud, it wasn't just the temples. It was creeping back like a stealth fighter. Damned funny thing is that I don't feel old. Grey hair means age -- old age. Forty-two's not that old. I'm not old, just have a lot of mileage on the speedometer. Works for me. The funny thing is the amount of grey hair that's appeared since my first jaunt through the Stargate, and since I first encountered a certain young archaeologist.
Janet Fraiser was finishing with him when I finally reached my destination. Daniel looked up at me as I entered, a look somewhere between being extremely glad to see me and not really sure what I would say. What happened was an accident that could have been prevented, that's for sure, but with his nature of just running after whatever, it wasn't an easily preventable one.
His palms were bandaged, just for the next day or two, Janet explained. As for his shoulder, it was jarred, but he would recover fully after a few days of rest. Easy enough in theory, but experience had taught me that rest had an entirely different definition for Daniel than it did in the dictionary. Strange thing, that.
When the Doc left for other business, I stood in front of Daniel as he gave me a shaky smile. He finally spoke after a few moments. "What did the General say?"
"They're going to send SG-6 back to have a look around beyond the valley," I told him. "Maybe they'll find the people who built that lookout fort."
His eyes widened in excitement. "I'm going to have to talk to them before they go! They might be descendants from the tribes in the United States. If they are, it's possible that they have a dialect that's similar to what the Mesoamerican tribes used to use, maybe Mayan, Olmec, possibly Aztec. If we see what their society is like, it could provide a lot of insight into why that society died out here on Earth. And --"
"Daniel?" I interrupted him.
"Yeah?" He was giving me an innocent look, which was aided by the scratches on his cheek and jaw.
"Does the word 'rest' mean anything to you?" I asked. "Those linguistic classes, the ones I assume you got your doctorate in, never happened to cover that word, did they? Along with other ones such as, maybe, 'stay,' or 'caution?'"
He blinked, opened his mouth to say something, then closed it as though realizing what I was saying. Brilliant mind he may have, but it often seemed to take a detour at times. "I messed up, didn't I?"
"Well, yeah, falling face first down a slope would fall under the definition of 'messing up,' and thankfully it wasn't worse than it was. If Teal'c hadn't been there..." I mimed the image of something going splat, complete with sound effects. It had the desired result, as Daniel's eyes widened to the largest I've seen them. "I've got enough to worry about with making sure the team gets through our missions intact. I promise you that if we find things, and if there's time and we're not in any immediate danger, you can go take a look at them. That is, after all, your job on the team, but if it puts us all in danger, it's not feasible, no matter how painful it might. It's not like I've got some vendetta against your interests, Daniel. I know Carter can get as carried as you when it comes to scientific things in her field, but she also knows that there are times when she can't give something the examination she'd like. Okay?"
"Okay." Trying to relieve the tension, he gave me a semi-sloppy salute, then winced as he remembered why he was in the infirmary in the first place. "Ow."
I had a sympathetic wince of my own. "How's the shoulder?"
"Very sore," he grimaced, tentatively rubbing it with his bandaged hand. "Painful lesson in life, I guess."
"It might be," I agreed, "but Daniel?"
"Yeah?" Most of his concentration was fixed on probing his shoulder, but after a few moments of silence, he looked up to see me looking at him intently. "What is it, Jack?"
"Remember when we first met? Two years ago, you just translated the coverstone, and I walked in to announce that the project was classified to non-military personnel?" I waited for him to nod, then continued. "Do you remember what color my hair was?"
He frowned at the question. "Brown."
"Right. When we first met I had brown hair."
I could tell that he had no idea where I was going with this tangent. I tried not to smile at this rare accomplishment, since it's usually me who has no idea where Daniel was going. "Yeah, so?"
"Take a look at me!" I pinched a bit of the greying hair at my temples, turning my head slightly so he could get a good look at it. "Alien attacks, little snake guys and strange extraterrestrial bugs of all shapes and sizes that are out to get us didn't do this to me. You see all this? It's grey. Not because of our adventures. Not because of my age -- I've seen forty-two year olds with plenty less and plenty more color than this. This is because of one thing, and one thing only. Can you guess what it is?"
He shook his head. "I have no idea."
"This is because of you, Daniel. You have given me more heart attacks than anyone I've ever known." I gave him a pointed look. "Got that? Only you. So please have consideration for my hair, because I'm sure that when it goes completely grey, that's when my sanity goes, too."
"I'm sorry, Jack," he mumbled, then he glanced up at me. The way he peered over his glasses, and by the twinkle in his blue eyes, I knew something was up. "But if you want the truth, I think it looks, uh, rather distinguished."
I snorted. "Distinguished, my ass. You keep your butt where I tell you to keep it, and we'll all be happy, Space Monkey. Then you can go play with your rocks."
"Artifacts," he automatically corrected.
"Whatever. Now, if you stay here any longer, Doctor Fraiser's going to think that you're wanting to stay longer than you need to. What say I take you home, since it looks like you're not quite able to use a steering wheel."
"No, I don't think so, either," he agreed, looking down at his hands. An experimental flex brought about another wince. "Thanks, Jack, I appreciate it."
"Just don't make it a habit," I replied, taking the elbow of his good arm to help him off the table. "Come on, I'll help you grab whatever you need from your office."
We called to Janet that we were off, then I followed him out of the infirmary. On the way out, we passed a mirror, and I glanced at it as I went by. My face looked back, and I turned my head ever so slightly to see the greying areas again. Distinguished, huh?