SquidgeWorld Archive

They Don't Understand
Author: Orrymain
Author Email: marciastudley@comcast.net (Feedback welcome)
Author Website: http://orrymain.raikiri.net/fanfichome.html
Category: Slash, Angst, H/C, Humor, Drama, Missing Scene/Epilogue, predominantly but not all POV - Daniel, Romance, Established Relationship
Pairing: Jack/Daniel ... and it's all J/D
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Virtually every episode up to episode 6 of season 7 in some form or another. This is a "Meridian"-free fic. Trust me, it's Jack and Daniel forever. Oma's interference is dealt with, but Daniel lives!
Size: 142kb
Written:
--July 13, 2003 from 9am to 7pm (have to note this for my own red letter day celebration - can't believe I did it); my first totally complete fan fic (I did one rewrite on my webpage once for Fire and Water, but this is an out and out fan fic and I'm shocked at me!);
--Revised July 15, 2003 when I convinced Daniel that he needed to share even more of his story!
--Tweaked and Revised through July 19, 2003 when Danny decided to add just a tad more (the boy is such a talker!).
--Final Revision July 27, 2003. Slightly revised for reposting October 7-13, 2003.
--Next Major Revision(s): March 17, 2004
--Major Overhaul(s) with betas: April 17,27-28, June 5,8,July 10, 2004
Summary: Daniel guides us through his relationship with Jack, taking us through some of the highs and some of the lows in the hopes we'll come to understand more about why Jack and Daniel are who they are.
Disclaimer: Usual disclaimers -- not mine, wish they were, especially Daniel, and Jack, too, but they aren't. A gal can dream though!
Notes:
1) Thanks to my betas who always make my fics better: Claudia, QuinGem, Drdjlover, Julie!
2) This was my first story, as I said. Since then, many of the scenes written here have been expanded to fics of their own. If interested, you can go to the web page listed above and find the stories of interest. Also, at the end of the story, I'll include a cheat sheet, but I don't want to include it here in case some might perceive it as spoilers.

They Don't Understand
by Orrymain

People look in through the glass, through the window, and think they see, that they know what our lives are like, but they don't; they don't understand. Sometimes, they see only what they expect to see, with preconceived notions of who we are and what we stand for, and sometimes they enter wanting to put their own agendas and feelings into our reality.

There have been times when they've seen exactly what we wanted them to, and then there were the times when they simply ignored "us" and saw the empty half of the cup. They don't understand.

We are one, My Jack and I, and no one truly understands, except for us. You see, to us, our cup is always half full, even when we're at our worst. Even when we fight, at the end of the day, what consumes us is what we have, not what we've lost or the differences in our jobs which so often finds us in very loud discourses of disagreement. We openly and visually defy the "norm" of our societies.

Sometimes, even we don't understand "us" fully. We are so outside the "norm" that it's scary. There was a time when even our friends believed we were enemies, that the arguments and distance of the day carried over to the night. They don't understand. They can't.

But some things are meant to be cherished, accepted, trusted, and appreciated simply because they are, because they exist. Our love is one of those things. We never looked for it, but when we found it, we embraced it, and each other, and never looked back, not really.

My Jack and I can both be accused of over thinking. We've nearly done ourselves in more times than I care to remember. Neither of us are strangers to running from ourselves, but several years ago, almost without being aware of it, we ran into each other, while running from ourselves, and somehow, we merged.

Every fabric of our being stopped being two separate entities, and instead became "us." If you think that sounds weird, just imagine how it felt to us -- two grown men, secure in our established identities, suddenly thrown into the totality of another person, a person who became "us."

People don't understand this complexity, this uniqueness, this completion that carries us through the storms as well as the sunshine; that it is this oneness, this unity that makes our lives one very long, colorful, magnificent rainbow.

When they look through the mirror, they see the Colonel, the Special Forces officer, trained to do, not to question; they see the military persona, the man with the P-90, the leader, the protector, the man doing the job given to him by the President of the United States.

Some know of his history -- the time of torture and worse in Iraq; the death of Charlie that led him to near-suicide; the divorce from Sara, a by-product of Charlie's death; the invasion of the Goa'uld that resulted in the death of his then best friend, Charles Kawalsky. And yet, this is but the surface of the man who owns my heart.

My Jack is a doer, a man of action. Most see that, but it amazes me how many only see the dense military brain. I'm not sure how they think he earned his rank, but they fall for the image he presents. He plays dumb, sometimes to the point of utter ridiculousness ... and they believe his act. How dumb is that?

The truth is that the Colonel who owns my heart is also one of the smartest people I know. His training has taught him to be able to think swiftly, to come up with solutions in a matter of moments, to make decisions in the blink of an eye, because the choices he makes could mean his life, those of his teammates or others under his command, and so often, determine the fate of innocents placed in the way of battle.

My Jack, though, is the ultimate survivor who outlasts, outwits and outplays those who attempt to get in his, in our, way as we explore and protect not just Earth, but the planets we befriend. Playing dumb is a skill, one he has finely honed over years. It drives me crazy when he takes it to the extreme, but I have to admit that I also love to tease him about it. So few realize the truth.

General Hammond knows, of course, which is why My Jack is the Second-in-Command of the SGC. Even Harry Maybourne realizes the genius in Jack, but to most others, they accept what they see, what Jack lets them see. It's part of the game that allows him to survive, and if that's what he believes he has to do, then it's all right by me!

And me? Everyone knows the tragedy that has been so prevalent in my life -- watching my parents die when I was eight; being abandoned by Nick, a grandfather in name only who refused to allow me to be adopted, relegating me to years and years of being shuffled around the foster care system, feeling lost and totally alone; being considered a laughing stock by those in my profession.

I learned to protect myself from hurt during these years, to shut out everyone in most every way. I perfected the self-hug and crossed arms methods of defense in those days, too. I had to, in order to survive. Both devices allowed me to stave off the world that seemed to shun me. As a result, people only saw the facade I hid behind.

There was the failure of my admittedly brief relationship with Sarah (funny how My Jack and I both had our own Sara/Sarah in our pasts), and the aforementioned laughter that threw me out of the world of academia. Then there was Sha're -- beautiful and mysterious Sha're. I lost her, too, just like my parents, Nick, and Sarah.

There has been so much loss for both Jack and I, so much pain. We both try to hide it, to bury it in our subconscious minds. There was a time when Jack let his pain rule him. That was the time when I met My Jack, before he was My Jack, when he was just Jack.

Somehow, he was never Colonel O'Neill to me. I remember that first year on SG-1. Sometimes I called him "Colonel," but it never felt right. Oddly enough, not even to him.

"Danny, cut out the Colonel crap," he told me one day. Hard to believe Jack would say that, but he did. Of course, I think we were arguing at the time. I don't recall what the argument was over right now, but I remember later, while we were on the roof deck eating cold pizza (it was bad timing for the fight -- happened just after the pizza had arrived and we'd taken it to the roof), he told me to just be myself, and not worry about what the Marines and other SGC personnel thought.

"Go with your gut, Jackson," he said. So "Colonel" disappeared, and I went with my gut, with Jack. Of course, he'll always be the Colonel of my heart, and when I use the title now, it's usually because we're either fighting or about to make love.

The instant we met at the Cheyenne Mountain Complex, when we shared our first look, something happened. How can others comprehend the way in which, in a moment of time, two separate souls, two opposites, Jack and Daniel, began to merge into one when we don't understand it ourselves? Neither of us were looking for it; we certainly didn't expect it; and we did our best to ignore it, to pretend, to try and make it go away, but in the end, we were still Jack and Daniel and, we were "us."

As was so well pointed out later, sometimes the only way to win is to deny the battle, and that's exactly what My Jack and I did. We realized the only norm that mattered was the "norm" of us, the fullness of our cup at the end of the day, despite the occasional draining of it during the day.

When they look through the clearness of the glass, people see two men who seemingly agree on very little. He's Jack "show me the big-honkin' weapon now" O'Neill, the Colonel ready to fire and kill in an instant. I'm Daniel "we're peaceful explorers; don't mind the guns aimed at you" Jackson, the Doctor Of Archaeology, Anthropology, and Linguistics, who can now add diplomat, speech writer, and yes, even soldier to the resume. This is what really confuses them; this is what they really don't understand ... the soldier in me.

I didn't want to be a soldier. It's not my essence; it's My Colonel's; but as I said earlier, Jack is the ultimate survivor, and I won't let him be anything less, especially not now when we are one, when I know I could not survive in a world without him.

The truth is, I wouldn't want to survive in a world that was devoid of Jack O'Neill. I don't care what that quack McKenzie wants to make out of that. My Jack is my heart, my lungs, my soul. If he dies, I die, and for some reason, My Love feels the same way about me. We've made a pact, sealing our decision.

It's scary how close we've come to carrying out that decision to live or die together, but there have been times, both in and out of the line of duty, when My Jack and I have believed, at least for a moment, that the other was dead. Fortunately, we each knew we had to be absolutely sure, and then miracles happened, and we found each other.

Still, we both know that our lives on this Earth are tied to the other. When one goes, the other will follow, and then we'll live together in whatever comes after life on Earth. They don't understand that some love is not only truly eternal, but so entwined that lungs breathing and hearts beating rely on the survivor of the other ... but I've gotten off the subject -- being a soldier.

My Jack was overprotective from the start. He teased me constantly about my allergies and being clumsy. It became something that bonded us, though, and later, it was more a gag, a private joke almost, just between us, because while we were playing the game, Jack was also insisting that I become an ultimate survivor. He didn't want me to lose my wonder of the universe, but he was afraid of losing me to my own naivete, to my natural desire and need to trust people, so my private tutor made sure I learned as much as I could. The training intensified after the NID mess, but I'll save that for later.

I guess you could say I'm Special Ops myself now, only no one knows it but Jack, My Jack, who showed me covert operations I couldn't even imagine, and I have quite an active imagination!

They don't understand that when Jack teased me about my military skills, that he was beaming with pride. Every time I survive; every time I live through some military barrage on whatever planet we visit; every time we get to go home and drink in the cup that is always at least half full, he is proud.

He's even prouder when I don't have to be a soldier and can just be the peaceful explorer who makes that first contact a resounding success. The man actually admires and respects me, and has said so, and if you know My Jack at all, you know that isn't something he does lightly.

There are few people he truly admires and respects. People like George Hammond, his ex-wife Sara, and, as a race, the Nox. Knowing that, that Jack's list of the admired and respected is so very short, makes me feel even more special. I blush when he tells me how he feels. Only that too-sexy-for-words, six-foot-two silver fox of mine can turn me into Jell-O in two seconds flat by saying he admires me.

People don't understand, when they glance through the window of our lives, how the hard-as-nails Colonel can tell me to "shut up" one minute, and then tell me how much he respects me in the next. They don't understand how I can call My Jack a stupid s.o.b. in one moment, and the next be wrapped up in his arms, content and at peace; and yet, both situations have happened.

They don't understand how we can be seemingly distant and almost cold with one another while saving any number of worlds, including our own, during the day, and then be satiated with our passionate unity during the night. They don't understand that their "norm" is not our "norm."

It isn't easy. We aren't saints. We bicker in our best of times, and we bicker with more of an edge, a snarkiness, in our worst, but after we bicker, we hold each other, we snuggle, and sometimes, we make love. Okay, and sometimes we just have hot, sweaty, lustful, needy, and even possessive, "you're mine, mine, mine" sex. (And if you ever see him, please don't tell Jack I used the word "sex." It's another game we play. He thinks I'm innocent and hesitant to talk about ... you know. Oh, gawd. Okay, so I am. Don't ask me why, just don't tell him I actually used the word -- "s-e-x.")

We do whatever is necessary to remind ourselves that we are more than our jobs, more than who we are trained to be, that we are one heart, sustaining each other as much as we are our individual selves. And again, this is what they don't understand.

My Colonel and I are more than our jobs, more than our philosophies of existence. Yes, I approach things from a cultural point of view. It's what I learned from my parents and my studies, and it's why I was hired to work at the SGC in the first place.

My Jack wasn't hired to be a peaceful explorer; he wasn't hired at all. He was ordered to destroy a world, and at the time, he just didn't care about himself or anyone else to give his actions a moment of thought. He was dead inside, and wanted to make that his permanent status as soon as possible. His son had died, and Jack didn't think he could go on. Truthfully, he didn't want to.

Everyone knows now that I had other ideas, and as I began the work that would transform "Jack" into "My Jack," somehow, miraculously, he began to breathe again, to see beyond the shadows.

So, the once cold and empty Colonel O'Neill became the leader of SG-1, a leader in every possible way. He's not the same man who went to Abydos that first time. It's part of him, but it's not the dominant part, not anymore.

My Jack wants to question now, but he still has to follow orders; that's his job, and sometimes those orders are unpleasant; and sometimes, those orders put us on opposing sides of the fence.

I suppose what most people at the SGC remember is the incident on Euronda. Jack telling me to "shut up" was far from his brightest moment, and don't believe for a minute that a little holding of my hand in public while offering an apology made everything hunky dory. We battled through that one a lot that night, but then, that's why they don't understand.

They can't see through that glass all the time. They couldn't see Jack that night -- his remorse at yelling at me and his pain as he lashed out at the injustice of our lives. It made my lover both sad and angry to admit that sometimes, in following orders to acquire those big-honkin' weapons, that he had to ... well ... turn me off.

Jack told me years ago that I was his conscience, that I helped him to balance things in his own mind. So on Euronda, when I, his conscience, openly questioned his decision, a decision based on very specific and direct orders to acquire those much-desired alien technologies, it left Jack having to go against what had been the essence of himself at one time.

The Jack of old didn't question the "why" of his orders. He just did them, especially when it meant the acquisition of weapons to help "the cause" being fought for, or the United States. At this time, though, Jack was in transition. As I said, he wasn't the same man who had gone to Abydos, nor was he the same man who blindly followed orders. Still, it meant a battle deep inside, and he hadn't resolved that battle yet, when he and I faced off across the table on the planet of Euronda.

He knew deep inside there was something wrong. To be truthful, he knew I was right, but he just couldn't admit that ... not yet. Having a feeling or misgiving about the place just wasn't enough, and he couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was that had been disturbing him, too.

The big moment, when I continued to question, and Jack insisted on towing the line, became more than My Jack could handle, and so he said the words, "Daniel. Shut up." A pin could be heard dropping at that moment, not to mention the sound of the anvils that tore through both of our hearts.

Yet, when we got home, I understood. I was angry when he did it, when he spoke those words. It was humiliating. I couldn't believe he had spoken them, there in front of potential allies and my teammates. I also knew, though, that his anger went beyond the surface words of hurt, that My Jack was hurting inside. I couldn't wait for that day to be over so we could go home and make it right. We did, too.

Did we argue? Of course, we did, but we also came to a better understanding of ourselves, our jobs, and the boundaries we need to be so careful of in keeping our personal and professional lives separate.

I'm not crazy, either, so I did make him grovel for a bit. Let's just say I had my way for quite a while after that, everything from my favorite Chinese food and historical documentaries which Jack watched with me in lieu of his usual sporting events. And, uh, yes, there were other benefits I'm a bit too shy to talk about publicly, but having my way was ... well, er, lots of fun!

They also don't understand the incident with the Enkarans. If we are so close, they ask, how could My Jack press the button? They don't understand his job. I do. They don't understand why I went back to the ship with Lotan, and why I stayed, to look for that precious alternative solution.

They don't always understand my job. Jack does. He may not like it, but he does understand. All they see is that I went on the ship, and that Jack pressed the button. They don't understand that my death is Jack's death, and vice versa. Remember, we have a pact, one we take very seriously.

What they didn't see were the oceans of tears shed that night, and for days afterwards, as we cuddled and loved. You see, we understand our "norm" of opposition. I don't like that my precious love would kill one civilization in order to protect another. I'm not sure I could do that, but then, I don't have to ... because I'm not Jack.

I don't want to be Jack, but I do want My Jack to be the man he is, because that is the man I fell in love with, the one who drives me crazy, who I argue with during the day, and sometimes at night. I don't blame him for pressing the button. He had to do it. I didn't have a death wish. I was only doing what I had to. I was doing my job, and My Jack knows that. Sometimes adhering to my true function isn't easy for either one of us.

Poor Jack! When he first saw me after the bomb exploded in the sky, he so wanted to take me in his arms and kiss me, and then kill me himself. I saw it in his eyes -- the anger that I had gone with Lotan, the love that flowed through him for me, the confusion created by his job and mine, the big question of "Why do we have to keep doing this?"

Standing there, though, in front of our allies, all he could do was ask me what I was doing, and while I wanted to devour his mouth and show him how glad I was that we were both still alive, all I could do was smile and tell him "we" had found a solution. Oh, and Jack was unhappy with me for that, too -- my use of "we."

He's proud of what I did, even if it makes him scream and get grayer by the minute just remembering what went down ... though he's pretty much as gray as he's going to get at this point. Gawd, he's sexy. I love his silver-gray hair, and those dress blues ... but that's neither here nor there at the moment.

I told Hammond that "we" had found the answer -- SG-1 to the rescue. My Jack wanted me to take all the credit, said I had earned it, but we're a team, not just he and I, but Sam and Teal'c ... we're SG-1, and everything that happens out there is a team event. We actually argued about that. It's a bit of a peeve for My Jack.

Jack knows how difficult it is for me that I don't get the recognition in my profession that others do for things that are ... wrong. Everything we do at the SGC is classified, so all my theories and efforts end up bound up in files at Area 51, or in the secured area of the Pentagon.

It bothers him, too, that it's easier for Sam to get credit for scientific breakthroughs than it is for me to gain an iota of respect for ideas and things that I first theorized or discovered, understood or translated, or whatever. Yet, for some reason, Sam can use the cover of deep space telemetry to somehow explain her theories. She can publish papers and be rewarded, while I watch from the background, even if it's something I had a hand in from the beginning.

Okay, I admit that it still bothers me just a little that I'm an outcast in my chosen profession, that I'm laughed at and dismissed as a nutcase, but amazingly, it bothers my lover even more. That's why when the Enkaran situation occurred, and the issue of explaining exactly how things happened in our reports came up, he was not a happy camper.

The love of my life wants to tell the world that I'm right. Actually, to put it in his terms, he wants to say "neener neener" to the society of scientists that has hurt me. Yes, My Jack can sometimes be a five-year-old, but I treasure the fact that he cares so much, that he wants justice for me. He makes me happy, and at the end of the day, what I realize is that what matters most is not what strangers around the globe think, but what he thinks of me.

I matter to Jack, something I didn't really believe for a very long time. Pushing that button almost destroyed him. True function of my job or not, it was my turn to cater to him for quite a while -- pizza with extra cheese, hockey games, and being used as a tasting ... oops, better not go there, but let's just say, I made My Jack a very happy camper as I indulged him for quite a while.

People don't understand as they reflect on what is visible through the particles of the windowpane that we are two men who are so thoroughly a part of each other that we need each other in order to breathe. Oh no, a cliche! My Jack loves cliches, or at least, he loves to tease me about them.

They think about the women of our lives. Most dismiss Shyla as the misguided soul she was, Hathor as the demon the universe knew her to be, and Kynthia and her marriage cake as the innocent, a victim in her own right. Few understand Ke'ra, and I guess that even includes me. Jack was jealous from the beginning, and I don't blame him. Chalk it up to grief, guilt, and stupidity. Even a genius is entitled to be stupid sometimes, isn't he? ... uh, aren't I? Good, because I was.

There wasn't any logic as to why I let myself be distracted by this blonde reformed destroyer of worlds. It was just fear, and I ran fast.

I wanted to say my brief infatuation with Ke'ra was grief from losing Sha're. After all, shouldn't I have wanted to die when she died, when the staff blast finally freed her from the clutches of Amaunet? I loved her ... right? So why did I want to live?

I once thought my dire loneliness would end because of the love Sha're gave me, and the joy I, too, felt for her. Why, then, didn't I want to die? I couldn't escape the question, so I continued to run from the man who had been so much a part of me for the last few years, and before I knew it, I was kissing someone we once deemed a monster.

Was it my grief for the death of Sha're, my questioning of why life still felt like it was worth living, or was it simply guilt, guilt that my love for her wasn't strong enough to save her? Or, maybe it was guilt over that internal struggle that I had been spared. I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened had I actually been able to bring her home. I wanted to run from that question, from that predicament that never happened, but for a while, it festered inside, so much so that I did run.

I ran as fast as I could from My Jack because he was My Jack, and because inside I knew ... I knew the truth. It was a harsh truth for me because I never wanted to hurt Sha're, but it was the reality. When I finally allowed myself to look inside, to answer those questions, I knew that even if I had saved Sha're, I would have left her behind, and it would have been my choice, my decision.

Gawd, that was hard, but you see, that bond that began years before on that very first day at the SGC, that thunderous yet silent bolt of electricity that had surged through pieces of Jack and I that we never even knew existed, had become unbreakable. It was an eternal charging and merging of the batteries that were our hearts and minds, and nothing could ever drain that love -- not even Sha're.

I could never leave him, not now, and that scared me, to realize that as much as I loved Sha're (and I did love her) I had chosen that once cold and empty Colonel to be my partner, chosen him before I even knew what that meant. How could anyone understand the guilt I felt as I came to grips with myself and the depth of my emotions for this warrior whose job is so fundamentally different from my own?

Not only that, but I had chosen Jack from the beginning. I lied to myself, and to Sha're, for almost two years. She died with the lie, and that haunts me. It will also disturb me that it ended the way it did, but then, to have told her the truth would have hurt us both greatly. I would have, though. My Jack ... he's everything to me, but after Sha're's death, as I struggled to discover the truth I had buried deep within me, I fled the happiness I had known. Who was I to be happy when Sha're was dead?

So, I ran from him, to Ke'ra. We kissed, and kissed again, and then I knew, knew in all my soul that kissing was all it was ... a few brief touches of our lips that meant nothing, that filled me with nothing. Ke'ra, no Linea, left that day as I told her that we never really knew each other. After all, we didn't. The one who knows me was waiting for me with open arms and a wreath of understanding that warmed my heart when I went home that night.

I apologized for being a jerk, for running. My Jack apologized for being jealous, for using Sha're to try and get through to me. He was going to say more, but I stopped him with a kiss, a slow, lingering capturing of his lips that soon become a hungered, desperate quest to try and make My Jack realize how much I love him.

We went to the cabin and there, though it wasn't easy, I revealed the full extent of my pain to him. He didn't understand exactly what I was saying at first, but finally, I got him to understand that I had chosen him before I ever realized there was a decision to be made, that even if Sha're had come back, I would still be there, with him.

My Love was speechless. He cried again. My Jack. It seemed he had always assumed there was no choice, that if we had rescued Sha're, I would have left him behind without so much as even a thought. He was so wrong.

They who don't understand can't see this. They never see these tears of joy and happiness, and sometimes of pain and sorrow, that My Love shows only to me, in our best times, and our worst times.

Those on the outside who spy in through the glass only get to see the Colonel, sometimes glib and snarky, but I see my soulmate who feels things as deeply and surely as anyone. We aren't so different, My Jack and I, in what we want; it's only how we get there that sometimes divides us.

I'm rambling. If Jack were hearing this, he'd probably be tuning me out, concentrating on, well, me, but not listening. He's a daydreamer, My Jack, but I'm not complaining. I simply give him his own personal briefing as he debriefs me on his daydreams, his very creative and often times ... kinky ... daydreams, I might add. It works ... for us!

Back to the point, which was what? Oh yes, the women in our lives. No debate on Sara. Jack loved her, as I loved Sha're, but that was over when Charlie died. They tried for a while, but they couldn't get beyond it. Jack was too bitter and guilt-ridden.

When he came back from Abydos, Jack wanted to try and piece it back together, but Sara had gone, and my man of action couldn't get himself to go after her and fight for her. He closed that chapter of his life.

He told me later that as much as he loved Sara, he had realized there was something greater out there for both of them. He wasn't sure how or why he knew that, because he still loved her and thought about her, and then I died, the first time, and Jack said that's when he knew that maybe there really was something greater, and as much as it surprised him, maybe that something was me. As for Sara, she had remarried, and Jack hoped she was as happy with her new husband as he was with me.

By the time I died the second time, I couldn't deny it either, and with the utterance of "Space Monkey," we entered the all-consuming reality that became Jack and Daniel, powerful, intense, confusing, and totally blissful. We gave up running from ourselves that night, tired of hiding our various hurts and pains, of burying the feeling parts of our beings to the darkest recesses of our souls.

We gave it up, and ran instead right dab inside each other's skin. We melded, joined, fused. Like the Grinch's heart that suddenly grew in size, our hearts suddenly became entwined, just as our fingers had been doing. It was scary, almost overwhelming.

My Jack was inside me, in more ways than one, and I was inside him, in the physical bond of our union, and in the mental nerve centers that make us who we are. We became Jack and Daniel; we were, we are, us, in a world where us has to be kept hidden behind closed doors and locked spaces. And that brings me to Sam, Samantha, Major or Doctor Captain Carter as she was introduced to me that sand stormy day on Abydos so many years ago.

Rumors abound about Jack and Sam, but the reality is, they are only rumors. I should know; I've helped spread them, with Sam's blessing, of course. She's one of a handful who know the truth about My Love and I. She admits she had a crush on her CO once upon a time, but she had one on me, too, only as I was married, she pushed it quickly out of her mind.

I was surprised when she told me, but Jack says I'm always oblivious to what people think of me. He says I'm lusted after by both men and women. I think he's crazy, but he's insistent, and very jealous and protective, and did I mention jealous? I've had to reassure him on more than one occasion that the only one I want lusting after me is him.

Reassuring my soulmate can be very stimulating, so while I still don't see why he gets in such a state about people like Major Davis, I honestly don't mind because it leads to the most wonderful moments of passion. Maybe I should send Paul a thank you note?

The Replicator incident and Paul's close proximity to me through that adventure was somehow relayed to My Jack. I'm not sure who told him, but somehow, he seemed to know all the details, and he was none too pleased with Paul, er Major Davis, placing his hand on my back.

He was just being supportive, but my obsessive Colonel was quite disgruntled, not with me, but let's just say Major Davis had some unpleasant surprises unleashed at him over the next few weeks. I don't think he knows to this day what hit him, or why he was suddenly reassigned to Elmendorf for a few months.

I'm afraid Paul was left out in the cold until I managed to reassure a certain Air Force Colonel that he was my one and only love, and that Major Whats-his-name was needed at the Pentagon where he could do his job, which really didn't involve being a liaison with Inuit, uh Eskimos, and unfortunately for Paul, that was more or less his assignment at Elmendorf. Poor Paul. He was essentially chilling out while chilling.

My Jack is full of surprises. I had no idea that he had the connections he did until Paul received his orders. Paul had mentioned the transfer during a phone call about a recent mission. When I told Jack, he seemed a bit too smug.

With a bit of bedtime finesse, I managed to get the truth out of him, hearing about one of his former Special Ops CO's who was now a General. Seems he owed Jack a favor or two for saving his life once, and my green-eyed love decided that was a good time to cash in the receipt, and hence, Paul's communing in igloo-land. I should explain that while Paul was assigned to Elmendorf, his actual location was a tiny outpost several miles away. He really was on his own and out in the cold in more ways than one.

I felt very guilty. It's just who I am, so I was finally able to convince My Colonel to let Captain, er Major Whose-its (the more I seem to forget about Pa...er, Major Davis, the easier it is to get my way) back into the continental US which is also why I made sure I was on that rescue ship when Jack and Teal'c were lost in space in a death glider. Paul would have been shipped off to Siberia next had he spent much more time with me at the SGC, but that's neither here nor there. I was talking about Sam.

They don't understand. Why would sexy, apparently straight Colonel O'Neill not be in love with his beautiful and very smart 2IC? As I said, Sam admitted she had a crush on him for a while, but that was all it was. She overcompensated later, trying very hard to please her CO, even ignoring her own doubts about some things.

The point is that she was much more interested in Martouf and Narim, and even Orlin, than she ever was in My Jack, and once she knew he was My Jack, she made sure I understood her feelings.

We're so close, Sam and I, and she didn't want any misunderstandings. I didn't either. She knew that there was something more between Jack and I after Hadante and the sarcophagus addiction. She told me later that when Jack took off my glasses and I hadn't even bothered to act like it was any type of invasion into my personal space, that she knew there was something more between us.

Then, when I was going through withdrawal from the sarcophagus, she was the first one, after Jack, of course, to come into the storeroom after I had escaped from the infirmary, only to find me was sobbing into My Jack's loving arms. She saw it all clearly then, especially when Jack's "screw the regs and I don't care who sees or thinks what" attitude took over.

He insisted on holding my hand almost non-stop to ground me into our reality, and then he got me through that nightmare practically single handedly by sticking to my side throughout the withdrawal and recovery to the point of not even allowing others to assist him in getting me whole and healthy again.

It was difficult, too. I felt so guilty. I let Jack, the man of my dreams, and Sam and Teal'c, my two closest friends, live in a hellhole while I feasted on the best the planet had to offer. (I really need to breathe here; My Jack must be right. Maybe I do talk to much. Breathe, Jackson, breathe!).

Sam finally told us she knew the truth about us after the incident with the orb that almost killed Jack. I was so distraught. I tried so hard to hide it, to pretend that seeing that thing through the chest of the man who makes my heart flutter and my spirit soar wasn't puncturing my heart and lungs, too. Sam did what she would continue to do later on, to help us, to protect us. She volunteered to take some of the heat, to serve as a distraction.

She talked quietly and softly to her CO, touching his hand gently as she prepared him for what was to come. She was worried and scared, too, but this was SG-1 and she knew that somehow we'd get through this, and when we did, she didn't want the rumor mills running amok with things that could destroy our lives, so she began the game, a game of misleading and deception, that My Love and I both agreed to later, when it was over, and she told us she knew the truth, and how she wanted to help protect us. (Gawd, I do need to learn to breathe, or maybe to just not talk so much.)

We didn't want Sam to risk her career, but she simply said as much as asked, "We're a family, and families help and protect each other."

We couldn't argue with that, so we went along with it, and when the dark came, Sam tried her best to use her true fears and caring to keep people looking at her, and not at me.

It worked because they don't understand and probably never will. It helps that we have turned out to be great actors. I abhor the game and its lies and untruths, especially where our family and friends are concerned. Playing the game, however, is necessary in that all of the deceptions and rumors the game generates help to protect my soulmate.

At first, I didn't think I could do it, but when My Jack's life is on the line, I can lie, er, act, with the best of 'em. I will not lose My Jack, my life, my soul, so if I have to use my dark side to get us through to the other side, I will ... and I have. Those who don't understand, who tend to underestimate me, or who make assumptions about me and what I'm capable of are often in for a big surprise.

All those military training games and exercises my sexy Irish lover has put me through, all of our covert private games that we've hatched to make it a fun and pleasant experience, have worked to our advantage. People usually see what we want them to, and when the NID started snooping around, we found out just how important our ability to hide in plain sight was.

The most difficult part of that particular undercover operation that threatened our relationship was its timing. Jack had just come back from Edora. Notice I said Jack. I was angry, and he knew it. No, I wasn't angry about Laira. She meant nothing to him, was nothing but a momentary escape, and just like people assumed there had been more to Ke'ra and I, they do the same about Jack and Laira.

He kissed her, and that's the extent of it. The gossips who want to insinuate more don't care about decency or truth, but that's their problem. My Love and I are secure in our universe.

Laira tried to mislead everyone, too. I realized, watching her, that she wasn't all that different from Shyla. Maybe we should introduce them; they could be best friends, and instruct each other in the fine art of manipulation and how to get someone to stop living their own lives to be with you.

I wonder what she would have done had she known that before the great meteor disaster on Edora, that after watching the falling stars, that My Jack and I had found a secluded place and made love? Poor Laira. She was so sure Jack was thinking about her during the fire rain. She was practically drooling over my lover. Sorry, Laira. His thoughts were on me, and boy, did he show me just how much that night ... right there on the cool grass of Edora.

As I said, I wasn't angry at Jack for kissing her or spending time with her, but I was furious with him for giving up. He gave up on me, didn't believe I would search the universe forever to find him. My Jack, and yes, he is My Jack, even when I want to shake common sense into him, has a horrible self-image.

People think I'm bad on that score, and okay, I have been, but my soulmate is equal to the task. He hides it better, but when it comes to reality checks, he thinks he's old, battered and bruised, and he wonders why I could love him so darn much that I can't think straight most of the time whenever he's around.

When he believed the Stargate was buried and lost to him, he thought that was it; no future; no more Jack and Daniel, and he didn't care what happened to him. He was just going through the motions. I was so pissed off at him.

I knew when I saw him for the first time when we went to bring him home that he was empty. His eyes had no shine, no light, not even for me. Sam was chattering on about how we finally got through, and he just walked away, from her, and from me, and went to say goodbye to Laira, spouting platitudes he didn't mean and would never honor.

Empty as he was, My Jack is a good man and has a loving heart. Even in that state, he didn't want Laira feeling abandoned without some kind of olive branch. He knew she wouldn't come to Earth, just like he knew he'd never return to Edora, at least not for her.

Sam didn't understand why he walked away like he did. She looked at me for answers, and I gave her one, "He's fine. I just don't think he was expecting to go home again."

I had to turn away. My hurt and anger at Jack's empty, but haunting eyes, was too much to see for the moment.

That night, Jack was full of his own guilt. He thought I would leave him, not understand about Laira, not believe that nothing happened, even if My Jack had given up like he had. I took him in my arms and held him, and that's pretty much what we did all night.

"You aren't leaving me?" he had asked.

"Jack, we're forever, remember? No, I'm not leaving you. I could never do that," I had responded.

His eyes were questioning, unsure. His guilt at giving up was great. He needed time to heal, and then I knew we'd argue, but it wouldn't be his first night home. We had other, more important things to do. We sat on the couch, clinging to each other, a few kisses, a lot of soulful and longing looks, but what we needed most was just the touch, of knowing we were together, of being grounded, our bodies connected as one.

Hours later, as I nuzzled further into My Jack's shoulder, he softly called my name -- "Danny?"

When I looked up, I saw my sweet love was back. No, he wasn't totally home yet, but he knew we were real, and that I wasn't going to leave him. We'd probably argue tomorrow and the next day about what happened, but we'd get through it, just like we had with everything else that had been thrown in our path.

"Bed," I had said, taking his hand and leading my life partner up the stairs to our king-size bed.

We made love, slow and tender, grounding each other even more, reminding ourselves that Jack and Daniel were always and forever, no matter what the Stargate threw at us.

We did argue the next day, and violently.

"You gave up on us, Jack ... on me! How could you do that?"

He couldn't answer the question, not really. Somehow, a part of My Jack died when he saw the Stargate had been buried. His logic escaped him. He got so lost in being lost that he forgot I would find a way to bring him home. So it took a while, but we got through it, like always.

You see where this is going? Good, because I've forgotten! Oh yes, the NID. My Jack and I were still healing from Edora when the General approached him about the undercover operation. My Colonel was in quite a quandary then. He couldn't say "no" to the General; the stakes were too high.

He also knew without a doubt that SG-1 and specifically me would be put in great danger as a result of anything he did. He was totally lost on what to do.

Geez, we were living together 24/7, hiding in plain sight, but no one on base knew it for sure except for Sam, and while we suspected Teal'c knew, there were only a handful of people outside of the SGC that had become family to us who knew the truth.

People like Catherine Langford, who did marry Ernest Littlefield after being reunited with him, Christa and Jacob Svenson, an elderly couple who had moved in across the street, Mark Kingston, first Jack's, and now our, lawyer, Frances and Crystal, the lovely sisters we had met on our first trip to Disneyland, and others, some of who found out almost from the beginning, and others only within the past year. Still, it was a short list.

So considering all of that, how was Jack supposed to protect me and play the undercover game without exposing us? He had to tell me; he had no choice, orders or no orders. He had to lie to the General, and he didn't like doing that. In fact, it still bothers him, that he lied to this man who was one of the few people on Jack's very short "I trust him completely" list.

My Jack thought about telling General Hammond about us, to try and explain, but with the General being so close to retirement himself, he thought better of it. "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" was a courtmartialable offense, and knowing about it and not acting on it was dangerous. Jack didn't feel like he had a right to impose that on the General, and afterwards, when he told me about all the debating he had done, I agreed.

One of the options, I learned later, was to break up with me, using Laira and Edora as a sword of hurt that would cut out my heart. My Jack couldn't do it. As much as he wanted to protect me, to keep me safe, he knew that letting me go with that lie, making me believe it, would literally cut out my heart. He might as well have handed me the same gun Charlie had found that miserable afternoon years before.

Jack knew he couldn't protect me by hurting me enough to make me go away, and honestly, I'm not sure he could have convinced me anyway. I'm a smart guy, and still healing or not, Jack and Daniel are forever and always, and as the "Daniel" of that statement, there's no way in Netu I could ever leave him or believe that he wanted Laira over me.

So, my courageous Colonel finally reached the conclusion, thankfully so, that to protect me, he had to be honest with me, and get me to play the game with him. It was an undercover, undercover operation, which I might add was thought up and honed while we were appropriately under the covers!

My Jack was never as serious as he was with me that night, that night before the madness began. I wanted to do more, but he was really scared for me, kept telling me I didn't understand the threat. Looking back, he was right, but I'm as stubborn as he is, and he's my life.

"Danny, please, you have to let me do this my way, and no matter what happens, you have to remember that I love you more than life itself. We'll get through this, but I need you to be safe, so ... just this once, don't argue with me, okay? Please, Angel."

My lover had tears in his eyes as he cupped my cheeks in his hands, and then he pulled me in for the sweetest and gentlest kiss he'd ever given me. He pulled me even closer, wrapping his arms around me, holding me like there was no tomorrow, and soon I realized, he was genuinely afraid there might not be a tomorrow.

"Please, Danny," he whispered again, and I knew I couldn't refuse him. This one time, I would go along and do it his way.

We covertly made sure that our house, er Jack's house, was back to looking like Jack's house where I sometimes crashed in the spare room. No major changes that would get people wondering, but little things that would mean something if someone was looking for blackmail material and the like.

My almost vacant apartment was reborn, suddenly full of life, fish and all. I had almost forgotten what it felt like to live there, to sleep in that bedroom, alone. We spent one last, covert night together, knowing that things were about to change for us for a while. The plan had to be set up, prepared to perfection, so our separation had to be longer than just the actual execution of the operation.

I had to work like a dog to come up with some argument for the Tollans as to why they should agree to an exchange of knowledge, fully aware that it was all for naught. So, our one very passionate last night, with mind-blowing sex to stop us from thinking, and then snuggling and cuddling to remind us how much comfort we get from each other, was everything we could make it.

And then we discussed the hardest part of the plan about to be carried out.

"Danny, we need to talk about a few things."

"I thought we had the plan set up?"

"We do, but ... I need to make sure you understand. When this plan takes off and everything breaks loose about me being one of the bad guys, the natural thing will be for one of my team to try and find out what's wrong, and ..."

"And that has to be me."

"For a lot of reasons. Our friendship, of course. Everyone knows we're best friends. Plus, you're just so ... stubborn that it'll have to be you."

"Stubborn?"

"You know what I mean. You'd dog me until you got to the truth. It's our history, Danny. We have to be true to what we've done in the past."

"I know. You're right, Jack. I'd never let you get away with doing the things this plan calls for without a lot of arguing and ... and nagging you to get to truth. Jack?"

"Mmm?"

"I wouldn't believe you. I know you. I ... I love you, and I'd just know there was more to it. I'd never let you lie to me like that."

There had been a bit of a love fest between us after that. This plan would be difficult for us. But after a while, Jack talked more about it, trying to prepare me about what to expect.

"The house will be bugged. I imagine they'll bug your place, too, and maybe even Carter's. I'm going to have to say things designed to ... geez, to hurt you. I don't want to do this."

"I know, but you have to."

"Danny, you don't understand. I'm going to have to hurt you, and it's going to be the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life, but it's the only thing that will keep you safe."

"Jack, I know that."

"Do you? Do you know that I'm going to have speak words that will cut away at everything we are?"

"Jack ..."

"You have to promise me, Angel, that you'll remember it's a game, a game I have to play in order to keep you safe. I won't mean a word of it. Promise me, Danny. Promise me you'll know the truth."

My Jack. He was so frightened for me, and he really was afraid I'd forget, but I never could. He is my universe. I was determined not to let him down. I made a suggestion he agreed to.

"Jack, I don't want you to tell me what you're going to say, okay?"

"Why? If we go over it ..."

"No. Jack, it's not just my life, it's both of our lives, and I think I need to make sure that my reactions are as true as possible. What we say needs to be as ... gawd, honest, as it can for that moment. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I do. You're right ... as usual."

"I promise, Jack, that I'll remember it's a game, and I'll do my part to keep you safe, too."

Of course, he was more worried about me than himself. It's par for the course. I guess it's like most couples. He worries about me, and I worry about him. Somehow, it balances out.

Oh, and you may have noticed the nickname, "Angel." My Jack has a thousand nicknames for me. Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration, but in all the years of our togetherness, he never ceases to surprise me with all the various terms of endearments that he comes up with.

Most know about Dannyboy, Plant Boy, and names like that, but ... after our first Christmas together, he started to call me "Angel." It was sparse at first, but then I almost died ... again, and since then, it's pretty much a regular thing. He says I'm his angel. Gawd, me .. an angel, but ... go ahead, shoot me, after all these years, it makes me feel warm inside every time he says it, and I'd miss it if he suddenly stopped calling me his angel.

Oh, geez. I'm blushing. It's a good thing no one can see me as I write this. Those who don't understand would be even more confused if they knew how easily just thinking about how My Jack fusses over me makes me turn to Jell-O, my knees weakening, and my heart just singing with love for him.

But we weren't talking about that, were we? Oh yes, the undercover operation. We were a rousing success, even if I do say so myself. I played my part worthy of an Oscar. Ask my Jack.

He almost cried in the middle of our debate, which would ruined the "scene." I was appropriately outraged at Jack's supposed theft on Tollana, and hurt by his disregard for the SGC and all it stood for during the post-mission briefing and everything that followed it.

Then we played out the scene at the house, the big moment when Jack would have to utter the words that would wound us both. My Jack was right. He said some things that were hard to hear, even knowing it was a game.

"Not much of a foundation?"

Wrong, Love, there is such a strong foundation that we're both going to survive this. His eyes. I'll never forget those chocolate brown eyes when he had to say those words.

He was full of sadness, on the edge of shedding a mountain of tears, so I tried to end it as quickly as I could. Without another word, I stood, grabbed my coat, and walked out, afraid to look back, fearing that if I did, we'd lose our resolve and end the game before it had really begun. To those who don't understand Jack and Daniel, it looked like My Jack had become Colonel O'Neill to me.

I raced to my car, shed a few tears, and then defiantly pulled out of our, er Jack's driveway to make my way to what I now had to call home, but as much as I love the apartment, it could never be more than just an apartment, because home to me is in Jack's arms, in My Jack's arms, no matter where we are.

So, the game played out. I stood in the control room watching Jack leave for Edora, scared to be any closer to this man who so owns my heart that I had to stay as hidden as possible to not mess up the game by suddenly throwing myself in his arms.

He knew I was there; I could feel him thinking about me, sensing me. I wanted to sound confident, upbeat. He was about to set out on the most dangerous part of his mission. He needed me to be strong.

"Don't worry, Babe, I'm playing the game. It's going to be okay," I spoke silently.

In telepathic-like reply, I heard, "Remember, Danny. Don't forget. I love you, forever and always."

Then, he was gone, and the days passed until finally, he was back. We had one final moment to play out for our audience.

"We drew straws; I lost."

I wish I had a camera to capture the look on My Jack's face forever in view. He was stunned, couldn't believe I would say such a thing, and then run off, out of the SGC and back to the apartment. It was over, almost.

We still had to wait a few days, for the aftermath to play out. Finally, Jack entered my office, where I was working late, again, trying to catch up on things I had let slide while playing out the game and worrying too much to actually translate anything more than my name. He slid his arms around me from behind, and I leaned into him.

"Home," was all he said. I looked up and saw the sweetest smile.

"Home?" I asked, and he pulled me up and led me out, back to our home for the first time since the nightmare had begun.

Who would have thought that a hardened Colonel like My Jack would be a romantic, but he is. They don't understand that part of him. I do. The truth is that both Jack and I romantic saps, full of loving fluff when it comes to each other. Anyway, when we got home, there was a fire blazing in the fireplace, the table set with candlelight, and even flowers with a card that said simply, "Thanks for remembering." My Jack! He had to work to plan that one!

I proceeded to show him just how much I remembered for the rest of the night, and the next day. Screw the SGC, we both called in sick. If they wanted to make something of it, let them! We took the day off, and stayed in bed, all day, loving, caressing, soothing, comforting. We were Jack and Daniel, forever and always. They don't understand. Personally, even though it may ruin my reputation, I don't care what they think or what they do or don't understand.

The aftermath of the NID plagued us for a long time. We had found bugs not just at home, but at the apartment, as anticipated. Every now and then, we'd find more. We realized we had to keep playing the game. Hiding in plain sight became a bit more difficult, and a lot more frustrating.

My Jack, my overprotective, possessive light of my life, told me one day we were going to have to pull back on our friendship. Intel said things were happening that we didn't know the half of. He was worried for me, again; almost as worried as at the beginning of the NID nightmare.

Jack had actually received threats, not on his life, but on mine, from people wanting things, suggesting things, that the time would come that if he didn't comply with their demands, I was going to become a victim, a dead victim, or maybe not dead, but wishing I were dead. My lover was scared, as scared as I had ever seen him, so again, we played the game.

As things developed, we thought we could keep it simple. We needed a diversion from the two of us, and although we hesitated, we decided to call in Sam for a favor. Actually, the decoy game had never stopped, but every now and then, we needed to escalate it. This was one of those times -- just like with the orb and while Jack was on Edora. That had been increasingly hard on me -- to pretend things were even close to normal while my lover was stranded off-world.

We spent three months trying to get him back, three months of caffeine and no sleep, at least for me, and I have to admit, even I heard the talk about the geek with the obsession for the Colonel.

It was just like when Sam and Jack had been trapped in Antarctica with the second Stargate when everyone knew I rarely slept and basically lived at the Mountain until they were home, only this time it was even longer, ninety days more so, and it was just my lover who was missing -- just ... my life.

I couldn't function much, didn't perform my job very well. My mind was on Jack, My Jack. I couldn't stop, though, no matter how many times General Hammond told me to go home or get some rest. I wouldn't leave, couldn't cease my efforts to find a way, not even after Sam came up with her own plan. That was well and good, but I wanted back up. Besides, doing nothing was killing me.

I was a mess. I looked tired and thin, and for good reason. I was. Janet Fraiser, the Chief Medical Officer of the SGC, really gave me a tough time.

"Daniel, if you don't go home and take care of yourself, I'm going to sedate you and feed you intravenously. Is that what you want?"

"Just a while longer, Janet. I think I'm on to something."

I always thought I was on to something. Little Napoleon, as we call Janet, was doing her best to mimic Jack, hounding me in my office, Sam's lab, the briefing room where I stood for hours staring at the starmap, and sometimes just at the Stargate.

"Daniel, you're losing weight. I'm going to have to take you off of active duty."

I didn't care. My only duty was to find Jack. I ignored her ... until that day I collapsed.

"I told you, Daniel. Why you never listen to me, I don't know."

Janet checked the IV's that hooked into me, pumping in nourishment of some kind.

"Janet, how is Sam doing?"

I could see the look of exasperation on her face at the question, but she answered. "She's on schedule, Daniel. I'm sorry about this, but I don't have a choice."

"What?"

That was the last word I was able to speak for three days. Little Napoleon kept me sedated while she pumped food into my system, and when she finally woke me up, she threatened to keep me there if I didn't promise to eat and sleep.

So I promised. I had to. But the reality was that if Sam hadn't started to mother hen me in Jack's stead, I probably would have been in the infirmary for the rest of Jack's stay on Edora.

Anyway, my physical condition and the reason for it was pretty obvious, so Sam knew she had to do something. She shed some tears and played the worried girlfriend, unofficially, of course. It was all a game to draw as much attention away from me as possible.

Once things settled down after Jack's return, we thanked her, for Edora, for understanding about the undercover operation, and just for being a great friend. She was totally surprised when we sent her on a seven-day vacation to the Caribbean, our treat. No one knew, of course, that we paid for it. They just thought she was on a regular holiday.

We were glad we did it because Sam had done so much for us. She tried to tell us it wasn't necessary, but we insisted, and it wasn't long before we were grateful that we had. As things turned out, we soon reached a time when we needed her and the decoy game big time, and this time, it could hurt.

"We can't explain fully, Sam, but we need people to think there's something going on between us, or that we want something to happen, but aren't doing it because of the regs. I wish we could say more, but this is really all we can right now."

"What is it you want me to do, Sir?"

"Just play along, Sam, if you can. I ... we don't want you to do anything you are uncomfortable with, but just do like you did when Jack was on Edora, or maybe flirt a little."

"You want me to flirt ... with the Colonel?"

"Come on, Carter. I'm not that bad, am I?"

"No, of course not, Sir, it's just ... it's just ... Daniel, he's yours."

Sam blushed realizing what she had said, and I did too. Actually, so did Jack.

"I hope so, and I'd like him to stay that way, and that's why we need you, Sam. The threat is real. If you don't want to, it's okay; we'll think of something else."

"Are you sure about this, Sir? I mean, couldn't the rules, the regulations, be thrown at us if we do this, and where would that leave you?"

"Oh, for crying out loud, we're not actually going to do anything, Carter. We just need you to cover our sixes with a little girlie action. Flirt. Bat your eyelashes. Something. If you need lessons, ask Daniel. He's an expert on eyelashes."

"Jaaaack!"

"You can't deny it, Daniel. You know that's one of your best seduction techniques."

"Jack, stop it," I squealed, slapping him gently but firmly in the arm.

"Let's get back to the subject, shall we?"

"Sir, Daniel, I'll do what I can, but Daniel, I want you to tell me if we, if I cross the line. Your friendship is too important to me to risk on nonsensical flirting that means nothing."

"Don't worry, Sam. Hopefully, we won't need it for much longer, but Jack thinks ..."

"Daniel," My Jack said sharply and with a warning.

He wanted to protect Sam, too, and the less she knew the better. We needed her to help us get through this, and she would be safe enough as long as we didn't involve her in the details, which was pretty funny since at that stage we didn't know much more than she did.

Little did we know we'd need her help so soon, but it wasn't much later that the zatarc thing came up. My "I'm not ready to retire yet" Colonel was never so relieved in his life than during that time, having realized what it would have meant for us had he and I been the ones together when the force field separated him from Sam.

The base ran wild with the rumors about those "feelings" they purported to have. Sam had hoped it would stay in the room, because she knew it would mean more teasing, and she'd been on the receiving end of quite a few anonymous jokes and pranks about her and the Colonel, but at the SGC, nothing stays silent, at least, nothing like that. It was absolutely the best cover we could have asked for.

"Love, had that been you on the other side of the force field, I'd be retired or in Leavenworth right now. You realize that, don't you?"

I simply kissed him hard in reply.

"Feelings," I crooned, "nothing more than feelings."