Title: A response from Jack

Author: The Blonde Sheep

Feedback: Onlist or to beth_supersaint@yahoo.com

Rating: PG- 13

Pairing: J/D

Category: Slash, humour,

Date: July, 2003

Status: complete

Series: Sequel to 'A letter from Daniel'

Spoilers/Season: around season 3.

Archive: Area 52, WOMB, Cartouche, JackslashDaniel AlphaGate...anyone else just ask

Synopsis: Jack reads Daniel's letter and has a few choice words of his own to say to his archaeologist

Notes: A giant thank you to Sharon who managed to beta this so quickly for me. Thanks hun! All mistakes my own :)

Well, you asked for a sequel so you got one. Moral of the tale: be careful what you wish for.

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. I do not own the characters and indeed am only playing with them for a little while. I am not making any money from this and I'm still paying for everything I own so there's very little point in suing me. No copyright infringement whatsoever is intended. The story is for entertainment purposes only. At least I hope it's entertaining. The original characters, situations and story are mine. Please check with me first if you want to archive or link to this story.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A Response from Jack
By the blonde sheep
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


I stuff the reply to his letter in my pant pocket. Screw writing, I have to see him *now*. Vaseline?
Alcohol? Floods? Fires? That's the last time I let *anyone* borrow my archaeologist, especially a Marine.

I sprint down the corridors towards
Hammond's office. I need to get on that planet yesterday.  What the hell does Makepeace think he's playing at? What the hell does Hammond think he's playing at putting a jerk like that in charge of team within a top secret organisation?

I rap on the door, barely waiting for his permission as I barge in. I stand there looking stupid until he looks up.

"Colonel."

"Sir."


Silence.

"Can I help you with something?"

Huh. No good mornings, no how are yous...what's the world coming to?

"I need to go offworld sir."

His beady eyes stare me down.

"May I ask where?"

"Um P3..." I trail off. Damn them for giving these planets such stupid names. "The planet where Makepeace and his team have gone sir." Not to mention my easily led linguist.

"Why?"

"I have a gut instinct sir." I don't think I better show him the letter just yet.

"Gut instinct?"

I shrug. "Call it colonels' intuition sir."

"About?"

"I think they need me there sir. In fact I'm sure they need me there."

He sighs.

"Colonel Makepeace is quite capable of-"

"Oh, I know what he's capable of sir; that's why I *have* to go." I'm hoping I'm not coming off as
desperate and whiny.

"And may I ask what you plan on doing there?"

I swallow. I'm doubting he'll accept killing a few members of the SGC as a decent plan of action.

"Um..." This may take awhile.

~~~~~~

I tumble through the stargate P-90 at the ready in case any of these 'beasts' come to investigate the noise. I take in the wonderful view of trees, trees and yet more trees. Yep, there's no place like home.

"Colonel O'Neill?"

Ah, the famous Tim.

"
Birkett, " I acknowledge walking over to him. "How's the head?"

He throws a puzzled look in my direction, probably wondering how I found out.

"Um, it's fine sir."

"That's good," I confirm. "Best let Fraiser check it out though when you get back. You can never be too careful with head injuries."

"That's, uh, very true sir." He's looking at me as if *I'm* the one with a head injury.

"So..." I glance around. "Where's the rest of the team?"

"Baby-sitting the archaeologists at the cave."

Ah, my favorite pastime. I indicate he should lead the way.

"So tell me more about the cave markings." I wonder if they've worked out what kind of blood it is yet. I'm hoping it's animal and not archaeologist.

"Cave markings? I'm afraid I'm no expert sir."

Oops, forgot I was talking to a Marine. They're dumber than me, and theirs isn't an act.

"Never mind," I reassure. Remember O'Neill, he probably has concussion. "So I hear you've had an exciting time here."

"Not really," he shrugs. "Pretty boring actually, not as exciting as usual sir."

I raise my eyebrows. "What about the flood?"

He throws me that crazy look again.

"Flood? Um," he looks around as for backup; there isn't any. "We had a touch of rain yesterday."

"A touch?" I challenge.

"Yes sir. Just as we were scheduled to check in."

We come to a clearing where they've set up camp; there seems to be plenty of tents to me. Scott Marshall is there, sans cap. I walk closer to him and he immediately stands up.

"Colonel O'Neill, sir."

I salute him back while studying his hair. Nothing obvious from the front so I move around to the back.

"Um, is there something wrong sir?"

"No," I say slowly, glancing back at Birkett before looking at the ground.

The ground. I crouch down, my hands running over the flat surface. I stand back up, starting to jump up and down. Ground feels pretty solid to me.

"Sir?"

"
Just checking for earthquakes," I mumble stopping my gymnastics. "Say, can we get to that cave now?"

I having a feeling that my archaeologist was exaggerating slightly. They agree quickly leading me
there. They look pretty at ease given the supposed beasts that are meant to be roaming these woods. Yep, definitely exaggerating.

"So what did you eat last night?" I try conversationally testing my theory.

"Um, I had the beef MRE sir." Birkett glances at
Marshall desperately trying to decide if the real
O'Neill has been replaced by an alien.

"And I had the Macaroni cheese." Marshal looks just as suspicious. "Um, what did you have?"

I glare at him. "It doesn't matter what I had." Dumb Marines.

"Ok-ay. Sorry sir. Stupid question."

We walk rest of the way in silence.

~~~~~~~

We're greeted by Makepeace and some other grunt as we get to the cave.

"O'Neill." He looks wary as he should.

"Makepeace, a word."

He follows me.

"So, good mission?"

He eyes me on the defensive. "Depends what you mean by good."

"Interesting?" I prompt.

He shrugs. "If you're into babysitting a bunch of geeks."

I narrow my eyes at him. One of them is my geek so Makepeace had better tread carefully.

"Guess you brought a little something to help spice up the occasion."

"What are you implying?"

"Nothing," I say casually. "Oh, did those Men in Black get in contact with you?"

He raises his eyebrows at me.

"What are you taking?"

"No, seriously," I try. "Will Smith was trying to get in contact with you. They dialled earth but we redirected them to this address."

"We haven't received an incoming from anyone, O'Neill."

"Thought as much." I grumble, gesturing to the cave. "May I?"

"Knock yourself out."

Ignoring his none too subtle suggestion I head into the darkness intent on finding some answers.

~~~~~

The first person I see is Robert Rothman; I resist the urge to knock his glasses off his face...an impulse I often get when I'm on the same planet with the geek.

"Uh, Colonel." He looks worried. So he should; I'm good at intimidating people.

"Rothman." I offer a fake smile. "I heard you got lost yesterday?" I'm hoping I'm sounding more concerned than disappointed.

His brow creases. "Um, only a little. Went a little too far when I had to, uh, you know, excuse myself." He turns slightly red before sneezing. "Only gone for ten minutes and I made it back okay though."

I glare at him. Okay, so I'm sure Daniel's played me into a fool but I've gotta make sure.

"What about the Vaseline?"

"Vaseline?" he chokes.

"In your pack."

"
I uh, don't have any in my...you've been through my pack?"

"No. Just heard the rumours."

"Rumours?"
He looks confused and more than slightly worried. "About me and Vaseline?"

"
I've already said too much." With that I walk out enigmatically.

~~~~~~~

I've spotted him. In a tunnel on his own, his face illuminated by his flash light. Revenge is sweet.
Slowly I creep up on him; he's totally oblivious, completely absorbed in whatever ancient text he's reading.

Getting right behind him I move quickly, hitting the switch on the flashlight, plunging us into darkness as I pin him to the ground.

"What-"

"Bastard." I feel him relax completely.

"Hey Jack, what're you doing here?"

I can picture his innocent face in my mind's eye.

"I don't know. Might have something to do with a little letter someone wrote me."

I feel him let out a little laugh and I direct my weight onto my arms, letting him role over to face
me...despite it being dark, before I crush him again.

"Oh, you got that then."

His breath tickles my lips.

"Oh yeah," I breathe. "One question. Why?"

He laughs again underneath me.

"'Cause I was bored. This is the most boring mission in history."

This coming from someone who has fun spending hours digging in the mud? Must be boring. If I liked Makepeace I'd feel sorry for the guy.

"So you thought you'd turn a few more of my hairs grey?" I challenge. "That's mean."

I feel his hands stroking through the short spikes of my hair. Love it when he does that.

"I like your hair silver," he comments. "Besides, I thought it was obvious it was a joke."

I clear my throat, trying to regain my dignity.

"Oh yeah. Obvious. Knew it all along."

He chuckles. "Liar."

His accusation is sealed with a stubbled kiss. I sigh; my body moulding itself to his as I kiss him back. I missed him. Finally I pull back for air, reaching out a hand to locate his flashlight and flick it on. We squint at the brightness as I get off him, offering him a hand up.

"You honestly thought I'd get drunk with a bunch of jarheads while on duty?" he asks thoughtfully.

"No," I lie.

"And that I'd put your new boonie in danger?"

"No," I repeat.

"And," he says as realisation strikes, "that I actually thought compasses need batteries? Gee, thanks Jack."

Indignation is dripping off him. I offer him a smile trying to smooth over his ruffled feathers as I pull him into a quick hug.

"I thought you were still 'hyped' from the Marines."

His lips twitch despite himself.

"And I was more concerned about 'blood' surrounding the cave."

His lips twitch again as his fingertips play with my t-shirt.

"Turned out to be ketchup from Scott's burger."

"Really?"
I'm sure I've got that goofy smile on my face. How come SG-1 don't get burgers and chips?

"And what about Rothman?" I challenge with a raised eyebrow. "Something I should know about?"

He finally lets out a little laugh, his fingers leaving my chest to tug my head down for another kiss. "Only that he snores worse than you."

"Daniel," I warn as the jerk laughs again.

"We were sharing a tent anyway Jack."

He laughs at my murderous look.

"Two sleeping bags," he reassures quickly, slipping his arms around my waist. "And no Vaseline. Nothing like when we share a tent."

I let the last of the tension fade into a laugh, hugging him back for all I'm worth.

"Do you know how many strings I had to pull to come here?" I think I'm signed up for baby sitting
Hammond's grandkids until they're 21.

Daniel bats his eyelids, knowing exactly what effect they have on me. All's forgiven. "Worth it though, wasn't it?"

I answer him with a kiss.

"So," he asks after pulling away, "did you write me a reply?"

I look around embarrassed. "No."

"You did!" He laughs.

Seeing as I have no bag with me and my jacket was long ago abandoned it's pretty obvious where the letter is. Daniel's come to the same conclusion as his hands dive immediately into my pant pockets.

"Careful with the merchandise," I squeak as he withdraws the slip of paper.

"This oughta be good," he laughs.

He reads my letter laughing as he does before he suddenly freezes. "Who the hell's Ben?"

I laugh, devouring his lips in mine. Revenge is sweet. Keeping him attached I none too subtly manoeuvre us to the ground and switch off the light again for a bit of privacy. I happen to know this particular archaeologist does carry Vaseline on him.

~~~~~~~~~
Jack's letter:

Hey Daniel,

It's great to hear from you. Flood? Guess
Hammond neglected to tell me about that. You went after some snake bones...that's brilliant, well done. Glad to see we have you well trained and you know your priorities.

No I hadn't heard about the earthquake either, thanks for enlightening me. I'll be sure to read all about it in your mission report. Glad to hear you got over your fear of heights...ask Makepeace if he's over his fear of death yet. Oh, and glad to hear that the new boonie I got you has come in handy.

Such good news to hear you found Robert, would have hated anything happening to him. Let me stress again how happy I am that you introduced him to the whole stargate project. A full moon? Well, guess that helped provide plenty of light for your little adventure.

Um, yeah, remind me to give you a few more compass lessons, one on one. You'll learn all about the art of attraction. Glad to hear it was someone other than you that was unconscious for a change. Congrats.

Men dressed in black? That's funny. Perhaps Makepeace had foreseen the future and was planning his own funeral. Nice people those funeral directors.

Nine feet? Um, no I didn't know campfire flames could reach that high. That's pretty impressive, perhaps maybe even a record. I'll check that on the internet for you later. Glad to hear the forest didn't set alight, you'd hate to burn all those lovely trees, I mean we haven't got enough of them in the universe right?

That's good of Makepeace; a good leader always knows what to take for his team. I mean look at SG-1, coffee and chocolate fills most of my pack. How about we go buy your archaeologist books as soon as you get back? It could be a really fun trip. I'll look forward to it.

Gee, the lengths people go to to avoid MREs. Did you catch a beast? Did it taste like chicken... wait I forgot who I was writing to, everything tastes like chicken to you- and I won't even start on how  insulting that is. Wait? 'Where's *Teal'c*?' You wouldn't rather have *me* protecting you in the woods? Well, thanks for that vote of confidence.

Tell, Rothman he better be using that Vaseline on his cracked lips and no where else...screw it I'll tell him myself.

Yeah, we're all brilliant, all the better thanks to your letter. That blood? Most likely a combination of Maekpeace's and Rothman's. I'll investigate that for you further.

Love Jack

PS. Tell Makepeace if he's still unsure he can give me the C4 and I'll willingly give him a close up demonstration.

PPS. You remember my 'old friend' Ben? Well he was back in town for the weekend and had no where to stay so I let him stay at ours and on Saturday night he invited some 'friends' back. I won't tell you what they did but it was loud; needless to say I was invited to join in...oh and on a completely different topic we need to buy some more whipped cream...also it probably wouldn't hurt to buy some more of that chocolate flavored lube you like so much- turns out you aren't the only person who likes it.


end