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Title: Memory’s Muse Notes: This is a crossover with MacGyver. I do ask you to suspend some belief here. Please enjoy the story. A major thank you to my betas, CarolS and Elektra Pendragon. And thank you Carolyn for volunteering to proof. And thank all of you who commented during the gestation of this story. It would not be the same fic without you. Disclaimer: I don’t own either Stargate
SG-1 or MacGyver. This was just done for fun. Memory’s Muse Jack had been out of coffee. That’s what had started the entire adventure. Jack would have rather slept in late and maybe have had a quickie in the shower. But Daniel insisted they go out for breakfast, a nice little place he had found slightly off the beaten path. He knew better than to go anywhere local, considering how shifty Jack got in public. It wasn’t Daniel’s fault. The other man deserved to be able to go out, but Jack couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched, that someone would know they were lovers by a single inappropriate touch or longing glance. He simply wouldn’t take the risk. Daniel drove them out of Colorado Springs, taking an exit off the interstate Jack had never noticed before. “And how exactly did you find this place?” “I like to drive, sometimes,” Daniel admitted with a shrug, though he didn’t explain any further. Jack had just nodded. Daniel was odd like that at times. They had only been lovers for six months, and that wasn’t long enough to figure out every quirk and idiosyncrasy, even though the two had been friends for six years. The café Daniel had found was located in one of those towns that shouldn’t exist any more, the kind depicted on postcards and in history books. Narrow streets were lined with orange brick buildings surrounded by faded metal railings. Tiny Victorian shops hugged the corners, which were still alighted with old iron light fixtures. It was the kind of place you could get lost in. Jack went up to the counter to pay, leaving Daniel munching on the last of his roll, when the man came up to him. “Mac? Is it you? After all this time! MacGyver!” Jack looked behind him, wondering who the man was talking to. The stranger was shorter than Jack, with shaggy salt and pepper hair, and a long moustache. He had a glint in his eye and wore a huge grin, his arms outstretched as if he meant to embrace Jack. “I’m sorry, you’ve got the wrong guy,” Jack said, not quite knowing how to take this stranger in his face. “Mac? It’s me, Jack Dalton.” The man was close enough to touch, and Jack took a quick step back. “Sorry,” Jack apologized breezily. “The name’s O’Neill, not Mac-whatever.” “Jack? Is there a problem?” Daniel’s soft voice broke into the encounter as he came up to stand beside Jack. “No, Daniel.” Jack left the bills on the counter, not waiting for the salesgirl to give him any change. “He just thought I was someone else.” “I could have swore…” Dalton shook his head. “You could be his brother.” Jack shrugged. Too bad he didn’t have any brothers. They left the coffee shop after that, and Jack didn’t think any more of the strange encounter. *** The dreams came fast and furious that night. He practically tossed Daniel out of bed, and when the sleepy man blearily asked him what he had dreamt of, Jack couldn’t tell him. Not that nightmares were unusual -- Jack had his share, though not usually while he had company in his bed. These were different; he couldn’t pinpoint the dreams to any particular part of his life; neither his time as a POW, nor that single gunshot that still echoed in his mind despite the more recent horrors in his life. Though nothing quite beat out the reoccurring ‘watch your friends get snaked’ dream. “I don’t know,” he said to Daniel. “It wasn’t bad really, just strange.” And now his head hurt. Jack dragged himself out of bed and into the bathroom. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, and it seemed wrong somehow. His hand stretched out and touched the glass, tracing the reflection of his face, as something whispered in his head. “This is who you are now…” The words jingled, like wind chimes in a storm, but he couldn’t explain where they came from. “Jack?” Daniel called. “Are you all right?” Jack thumbed open the cabinet and grabbed the Advil. “Yeah.” *** A week and a half later, Jack was home with one ankle wrapped up after a particularly annoying mission. Daniel had gone to the supermarket for supplies, and, most likely, to get away from an increasingly grumpy Jack. “Dammit,” he cursed, scratching at his suddenly itchy foot. The sprain wasn’t bad; it would, however, keep him off the mission roster for a week or so. It was just damn inconvenient, and if he had to be completely immobile he would end up shooting something. Still, he needed to keep the leg elevated, so he plopped it on some pillows and sat back on his couch. He had just gotten comfortable, and found a channel with something he could actually stand to watch, when the doorbell rang. “Dammit, Daniel!” he cried. Did the man forget his key again? Grumbling, he rolled himself off the couch and hobbled to the door, not bothering to grab his crutches. He pulled open the door, ready with a comment about Daniel forcing him to walk when he should be playing the invalid on the couch. However, he stopped himself when he realized the stranger standing on the step was not Daniel. The man bore a passing resemble to General Hammond -- short, rotund and bald -- but he was several years older, with deep lines around his face. His eyes were covered with fashionable sunglasses, and at his side stood a sharp looking golden retriever, a guide dog by the look of the harness. “Um, can I help you?” Jack asked the blind man. The stranger’s lips quirked. “I’m looking for a Colonel Jack O’Neill.” “That’s me.” Jack frowned. “May I come in? I’d like to speak with you, if you don’t mind.” “Look, what’s this about?” Jack had no idea what this stranger could possibly want. He knew only that his presence caused his gut to clench with foreboding, and he wasn’t sure why. “What, you selling encyclopedias or something?” “I’m not selling anything,” the man told him. “Does the Phoenix Foundation mean anything to you?” Jack started to say, no, not at all, I already gave at the office, when something clicked in his brain. The Phoenix Foundation was a research institution that was often linked with the government. Funny, he hadn’t thought of it at all until this man had mentioned the name. “Maybe,” he admitted. “All right, you’ve got me curious now, come in.” “Thank you.” The man entered. “Um, there’s a couch about six feet to your left. Have a seat.” Jack closed the door and limped back towards the living area, sitting across from the man and propping his foot up on the coffee table. The man made his way carefully over, feeling around the seat with his hand before he sat. The dog lay down at his feet at the gentle touch of his master but kept his intelligent eyes on Jack. Jack sat across from them. “So, Mr…?” “Thornton, Peter Thornton,” he finally introduced himself. “Yeah. Um, do you want something to drink or, something?” Jack asked. “No, thank you,” Thornton smiled. “I’ll try to be as clear as I can. A few weeks ago, you met a man named Jack Dalton. He told me that you closely resemble a missing friend of ours.” “Dalton?” Jack murmured, then the encounter at the café came back with a flash. “Whoah, I remember him.” “He’s unforgettable. Anyway, our friend, MacGyver, has been missing for fifteen years. The last time I heard from him, he was volunteering to test something for the United States Air Force.” And this has to do with me, how? Jack wanted to say, but he found himself suddenly tongue-tied. A picture flashed in his mind: a metal room, a chair, and a silver box. He shook his head, trying to dispel the image. Thornton continued, “I was wondering if you would come into our lab. If you do resemble MacGyver as much as Jack Dalton says…” “Oh, sure, I’m just going to walk into a top secret facility that officially doesn’t exist.” “Look, Colonel O’Neill,” Thornton began, reaching out with one hand, “Mac was my friend. I’ve never stopped looking for him. Both the Air Force and my higher ups have been quiet on this front, which usually means the person in question is dead. I can’t accept that.” “What was the project he volunteered for?” Jack asked, thinking perhaps the least he could do for this man was have Carter do some digging. If at all possible, he could tell him whether his friend was dead or not. “It was called Project Mnemosyne.” “And you can say that with a straight face?” Thornton laughed. “I’ll look into it, Mr. Thornton…” “Call me Pete, please.” “Well, ok, Pete. Is there any way I can reach you? Since you found me so easily…” Thornton dug into the front pocket of his jacket, pulling out a slim card. “If you know anything about the Phoenix Foundation, you should know that’s not surprising. Here, this is my information.” Just as Jack reached out to take the card, the front door banged open, and Daniel stumbled inside, two grocery bags in each arm. The guide dog let out one sharp bark. “For crying out loud, Daniel, my kitchen wasn’t that empty,” Jack grumbled, standing unsteadily. “I’ve got it.” Daniel let two of the bags drop to the floor. “Um, Jack, who’s your friend?” “Oh, this is Peter Thornton,” Jack introduced absently. “I was just leaving.” The older man stood, letting his dog lead. “Thank you for your time, Colonel O’Neill.” “Um, yeah. Let me show you to the door.” *** Jack would have forgotten to mention the mysterious project to Carter if Daniel hadn’t brought it up. Actually, they had ended up having to call Thornton after all, since Jack kept calling it “Project Memo-Sink” and Daniel was certain that wasn’t quite right. He brought Daniel with him when he barged in on Carter one week and one healed ankle later using the excuse that he needed Daniel to pronounce the name of that odd-sounding project. Who named Top Secret Air Force programs after Greek Goddesses, anyway? Unless it was a Project Xena -- that he could totally get behind. Truthfully, Daniel was just curious himself, and Jack couldn’t deny him. Besides, it was always good to have backup when venturing into Carter’s lab. She might try to explain something to him, and he could always use the time staring at Daniel instead of letting his eyes glaze over. He could get away with that here, oddly enough, though lately he had tried to pull away from Daniel at work, even letting it seem like they were fighting. Anything to dispel any rumors they could possibly be more than friends. Carter looked kind of busy, her hands deep in the guts of some sort of machine. That couldn’t be healthy, Jack thought. He didn’t hesitate from interrupting her. “Hey Carter, whatchadoing?” he asked brightly, hopping up to sit on the tabletop. “Reconfiguring the power source in this Naquada generator, sir. It’s very delicate work, I need to align the…” He held up a hand to ward her off. “Right, Carter. Keep up the good work. I was wondering if you could do me a favor…” Carter jumped back from the device suddenly. “Siler!” she called to the unobtrusive man working behind her. “Clear the lab! If I can’t get the reactor stabilized, it’s going to explode!” “Explode?” Daniel echoed from behind him. Jack had forgotten he was there for a second. He looked at the generator, and spied the plastic tubing on the table. Carter turned to Daniel and opened her mouth, but Jack pushed her aside and interrupted her. “Sir?” she asked. She watched, stunned as Jack picked up several parts from the table, and moved over to the Generator. “Jack?” Daniel tried to break in, but Jack remained focused, concentrating completely on the object in front of him. “Daniel, paper clip,” Jack demanded. “Um, here,” Daniel pulled one out from the report folder he had carried with him. Jack took the paper clip, carefully unfolded it, and stuck it into the generator. Sam gasped and stepped back, certain the machine was going to explode at any moment. Finally, he pulled out of the machine. “There, that should do it.” Sam peeked tentatively into the generator, to see that a sort of shunt had been created using the plastic tubing and the paper clip. “Yes, that should do for a temporary fix, at least until I can reroute the coolant leak…but, sir, how did you know how to do that?” Jack shrugged. “It’s no harder than hot wiring a car.” He rubbed his forehead feeling that headache coming back. He tried to shake it off. “Listen, Carter, I just wanted to ask a favor. I need intel on a top secret thing called Project Hermione…” “Mnemosyne,” Daniel corrected quickly. Sam paused, then went and grabbed a pen. “Ok, you’re going to have to spell that.” Daniel rattled off the letters, and Jack grimaced. “They probably don’t even need to keep it top secret. Nobody can find out what it is cause they can’t spell or pronounce it!” She grinned at them. “I’ll check it out. Anything in particular you want me to look for?” Jack thought for a moment. “Well, the timetable on that is at least fifteen years ago. And a guy named MacGyver.” Sam visibly started at that, “MacGyver?” “You’ve heard of him?” “Well, yes, of course.” Sam looked thoughtful. “His paper – ‘The use of ordinary objects in military field operations’ is practically required reading at the Academy. I think he was associated with the Phoenix Foundation…” “The Phoenix Foundation,” Daniel repeated. “That guy who came looking for you that day, he was from the Phoenix Foundation. What is that?” “What guy?” Sam asked, curious. Jack shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.” Sam turned to answer Daniel’s question. “Phoenix is a private institute that’s often contracted with the United States government for highly secret operations. Publicly, they’re just a research and development company.” Daniel frowned. “This just seems to be getting better and better.” “Carter, keep me updated,” Jack called, leaving the lab. He had paperwork to catch up on. He was confident in Carter’s ability; she could figure this out. *** He awoke with a start, his heart beating hard against his chest, and sweat icing his entire body. It was dark, and he was trapped underneath heavy covers. Tossing them aside, he moved to get out of the bed. That was when he realized he wasn’t alone. Another figure had been huddled under the covers. He gently pulled them aside, trying to get a better look at his bed partner. It might give him an idea of where he was. He caught sight of short hair, broad shoulders. A man? His bed partner was another man? He stumbled away from the bed, taking a quick look around the bedroom. Nothing seemed familiar. This wasn’t his place. Carefully, he made his way out of the room and down the stairs where he flicked the lights on. Something odd was going on here. He didn’t recognize the living room either. There were pictures along the mantle of the fireplace, mostly of a boy in various poses though the child didn’t seem to age past ten or so. There were also photos of a group of four people, dressed in oddly militaristic uniforms. He lifted one of those photos up, rubbing his fingers over the glass. One of the figures looked almost like himself… if he had aged about twenty years. No, that was impossible. He put the photo back down and whirled around the room, fighting down panic. Where was he? What was he doing here? He sat down on the couch, struggling to make sense of the situation, when he saw the tiny white card on the coffee table. He picked it up and sighed in relief. Pete. Pete would help him. There was a sound behind him, and he looked up. “Jack, are you ok?” Jack O’Neill blinked and nearly jumped off the couch. What the …? How had he gotten down here? “Must have been sleepwalking,” he answered softly, dropping the card in his hands to turn around and look at Daniel standing on the stairway, his eyes muddled by sleep. Jack smiled at that face fondly. “Let’s get back to bed.” *** The next afternoon, General Hammond called Jack into his office. That wasn’t so unusual. Jack couldn’t think of anything he had done to piss anyone off so he suspected this might have something to do with an upcoming mission. Hammond gestured for him to sit, as the general carefully closed the office door. “Colonel O’Neill, I was contacted by some fairly high officials. You’ve been looking into Project Mnemosyne.” Jack was surprised; Carter was usually better at covering her tracks than that. “That was fast,” he grumbled. Hammond sat in his office chair, shifting through some papers on his desk. “Apparently there’s some flag in the system, intended to apprise them if you personally had ever inquired about the project.” Jack could feel the hair on the back of his neck lift as a cold chill went through him. His instincts were always good, and now they warned him to be careful. “That doesn’t sound too good.” Now it seemed he had to write off Daniel’s sleeping over. If he was being watched, they couldn’t take that risk. “No,” Hammond agreed. “I want you to be careful, Jack. I don’t like the way the wind is blowing on this.” He could take the hint. Jack O’Neill would have a nice big target painted on him, he was used to that. What he wanted to know was why? “They didn’t happen to tell you what exactly the Project was, did they sir?” Hammond shook his head. “We don’t know what exactly we’re dealing with here.” “Yeah, and why exactly am I singled out for special treatment?” Jack grumbled. “Jack, you don’t remember being a part of this project?” Hammond frowned, his eyes searching out Jack’s, as if trying to read the answer there. Jack shook his head. “I’ve done a number of different jobs for the government, but this one doesn’t ring any bells.” “Unless you can’t remember it.” He sat back in his chair. “Now that’s just creepy.” Jack shuddered, thinking of his blacking out last night. He still had no idea how he had gotten from the bed to the couch. *** Despite Hammond’s concerns he had a job to do, and SG-1 had a mission scheduled for 1500. It wasn’t anything complicated, new planet, no immediate sign of any inhabitants, but a structure was visible. Short survey mission. Carter cornered him on the way to the Gate from the locker room. “Sir, I tried to find out about that project.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I know. It got back to Hammond. This is some scary shit, Carter.” “Sir, I’m concerned about the mention of your name in the reports I did access.” “Is there a problem, Jack?” Daniel asked, coming out of the room, pulling his pack over his shoulders. He really didn’t want to get into this in the hallways of the SGC, and he needed time alone with Daniel to explain why he would be sleeping by himself tonight. “Later. We’ve got a mission to do first.” Daniel gave him a long, hard look and Jack knew the archaeologist would make a point of bringing it up again. That was fine, maybe by then Jack himself would know what to say to him. Was it possible that he had been experimented on? His mind played with to such an extent that he couldn’t even remember the experience? And what exactly did the Phoenix Foundation have to do with it? “Carter,” he paused just outside of the Gateroom. “For a sec, forget about that project. Give me all the info you’ve got on this MacGyver character.” She quirked a half grin. “Right, sir, as soon as we get back.” *** Ok, a forest, trees -- this he could deal with. It was better than waking up in that strange house that was oddly familiar and yet not. Then again, he still had no idea where he was or how he got there. He looked down at himself and was shocked to see his arm curved around a large gun. He hadn’t used guns since his Army days, and had sworn them off ever since. Truthfully, the aversion to guns started long before then, when he was twelve and watched his friend Jesse die from an accident with his father’s gun. He had stayed with Jesse until he died. His head hurt, and he realized there was another reason he should hate the cold metal weapon at his fingertips, but he couldn’t quite remember why. He should remember; it was important, damn it. “O’Neill, are you well?” a deep voice intoned from his side. He turned and gaped at the tall stranger standing next to him. The tall black man was dressed in military gear, and would have fit in as a special ops officer except for the makeup around his eyes and the gold mark in the middle of his forehead. What was going on here? What cracked-up assignment had he gotten himself into now? “What?” he asked intelligently. “Are you talking to me?” “Indeed.” The man raised an eyebrow. They were interrupted by voices as two people came up to them, chatting amicably. His breath caught in his throat as he realized he recognized that man. He was the one in his bed last night. In fact, the other two looked familiar as well, from that picture he saw last night. “Jack, are you all right?” the young man asked, bright blue eyes concerned. He lifted one hand and reached out, not knowing why, just needing to touch make sure this was real. His fingers made contact with soft skin, and then there was nothing. *** “Incoming Traveler.” “It’s SG-1, sir.” “Open the Iris,” General Hammond ordered. SG-1 was not due back for a few more hours. Four people stumbled through the gate, O’Neill propped up between Daniel and Teal’c. “What happened?” Hammond asked as he entered the Gateroom. “Jack blacked out,” Daniel explained. “I did not.” Jack tried to shrug off his teammates, and nearly stumbled. “I just got dizzy for a sec…” “And you looked at us like you didn’t even know who we were!” Daniel retorted. Hammond held up a hand to stop their argument. “Colonel O’Neill, report to the infirmary. We’ll sort this out later.” *** Once again he was poked, prodded, injected and had shiny lights shone into his eyes. Jack didn’t so much resist as fail to contribute. He sat on the gurney, his arms across his chest, being his usual irascible self. Inside he was slightly worried. Daniel was right; he had lost time. One moment he and Teal’c were standing guard while the two scientists did their thing, and the next, all in the space of a blink, Daniel was suddenly in front of him. He had no memory of the archaeologist walking up to him, or the conversation they’d apparently had. Daniel and Carter were coming through the curtains now that the exam was over, and he had a really bad feeling about this. “How are you feeling, Jack?” Daniel asked, probably to lull him into a false sense of security. “I feel fine.” And he did. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with me.” “Don’t you think we should wait for Janet before you diagnose yourself?” Daniel asked, raising one of those lovely eyebrows of his. Jack could feel himself flushing with a different kind of heat and really hoped Janet wasn’t monitoring his heartbeat at the time. God, he couldn’t wait until he got out of here so he could wrap Daniel in his arms and do some private explorations of his own. Actually, he reminded himself, that probably wasn’t a good idea at the moment. “Sir, while you were, ah, busy, I did some searching on that person you wanted me to look into.” “MacGyver.” “Yes.” Sam looked down at the folder in her hands. “This is everything I could pull on him. However, the paper trail ends suddenly about fifteen years ago.” “About the time the guy disappeared.” She shuffled the papers and found the one she was looking for. “There’s one thing in particular that disturbs me,” she began, showing him the black and white print out. “This is Angus MacGyver, aged 32.” Jack took the page and gasped. “Sonavabitch, this guy does look like me.” “And, there’s more Jack,” Daniel said. “This is only a hunch really, but remember when I told you that Mnemosyne was a Greek Goddess?” “Don’t tell me.” “Mnemosyne was the personification of memory. Also the mother of the nine muses, which is interesting when you think about it…” “Daniel!” “Anyway,” Daniel interrupted himself, “if the project refers to memory, do you think it might be possible that you more than just resemble this MacGyver guy?” “Daniel,” Jack said. “I think I would know if I was someone else.” Daniel raised his eyebrows again. Jack tried to clarify. “I mean, I remember being me my entire life.” “You’re not helping.” Daniel shook his head. Sam broke in, “Until we’re sure what exactly Project Mnemosyne was, we can’t begin to speculate what exactly happened. For all we know, Colonel O’Neill has an identical twin brother he never knew.” “Thank you, Carter. I think.” Dr. Janet Fraiser made her appearance, clipboard in hand. “Well, Colonel, I can find nothing physically wrong with you.” “Thank you!” Jack snapped, ready to hop off the bed. She held up her hand. “That doesn’t mean nothing’s wrong. We’ve encountered strange phenomena before.” Sam decided to make a graceful exit then and waved as she left the curtained area. Daniel, bless him, stuck around. Jack sighed, and wondered if he was going to get his own personal invisible alien, just like Carter. “Do you think this might be like the time Jack had the Ancients’ knowledge downloaded into his brain?” Daniel asked, biting his lip thoughtfully. “Remember? He was building things and not knowing consciously why, though his subconscious mind did. This is kind of similar.” Janet shook her head. “I’ve double-checked the MRI scan and there is exactly the same pattern of brain activity that’s normal for Colonel O’Neill. This is something I can’t explain right now.” She turned to Jack. “I will release you, Colonel, but I want you off the mission roster, at least for the next few days, just to make sure this was just a fluke.” “Got it Doc. Can I go now?” Jack tried to keep the whine out of his voice, but was only partially successful. She sighed. “Yes, but I want you to take it easy for a few days.” “Understood!” *** Daniel drove them both to Jack’s place. He could tell Daniel was actually worried and his little fits of huffiness were just his way of showing that. While they were in the car, Jack brought up their problem. “You can’t sleep over tonight, Daniel.” “What? Why not?” Daniel sounded surprised and slightly hurt. Sleeping over was their refuge, the one place Jack felt free to be himself around Daniel. He could understand how his lover felt. Jack sighed; this wasn’t going to be easy. “Because I think I’m being watched. Hammond was told by some contacts that I was looking into project Hermione…” “Mnemosyne.” “Yeah, whatever. And that there’s some kind of flag on the record.” “Jack, this is sounding more and more strange.” “Ain’t that the truth?” “You think that maybe, you were experimented on?” Daniel asked quietly. “I don’t know what to think.” Though as time went by, it certainly looked that way. Great, just what he needed, something else making his brain turn into Swiss cheese. “Anyway, if I am being watched for looking into this project, I can’t have you in my bed.” “Yeah, that would be a bad thing,” Daniel agreed. He fidgeted for a moment, and Jack wondered if he was remembering another time, before they were lovers, when Jack had been forced to play for the surveillance devices and shut him out. Jack certainly was thinking of it. Not a good time for them. Daniel pulled into his driveway and cut the motor. “Dinner first? Then I’ll go back to my place?” “Sweet.” Jack grinned. They ordered pizza, and crashed out on the couch. Jack liked this, liked the companionship that having his lover near provided. It was what started them on the road to lovers in the first place. Jack took a long swallow of beer, feeling so mellow he even let Daniel have the remote control. He tossed a grin as the younger man selected some movie. Yeah, this was nice… *** Daniel turned away from the TV, meaning to share a joke with Jack, but the words froze on his lips. Jack was starring at him with blank eyes, just like he had been on the planet earlier. “Who are you?” Jack’s lips formed the words, but it wasn’t really Jack. “Jack, it’s me, Daniel,” he replied, his words soft and slow as if he was talking to a new alien species. “My name isn’t Jack,” the stranger said. He stood and began to pace around the living room. “Okay,” Daniel decided to play along. “What is your name?” He stopped at the mantle, staring at the pictures in the frames there. “MacGyver.” “MacGyver.” Daniel sucked in a deep breath of air. “Ok. MacGyver, what’s the last thing you remember?” He shook his head. “I volunteered for something. A project. Pete told me it was a bad idea, but I was fascinated by the technology…” Suddenly he gripped his head between his hands and groaned. “God, that hurts!” Daniel was on his feet and at his lover’s side. “Jack?” he asked hesitantly. Jack looked up at him. “Who the hell else would it be?” “Well, for a moment there, you were someone else.” Daniel gestured as he spoke. “You just claimed to be MacGyver.” “Fuck.” Jack made his way over to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a shot. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, Jack?” Daniel asked quietly. “Probably not.” Jack downed the liquid; it burned a trail down his throat. “Look, maybe I should stay over tonight,” Daniel began cautiously. “Unless you want to go back to base?” “Fraiser didn’t find anything wrong with me before, she’s not going to now,” Jack spat. “Jack.” Daniel placed his hand on Jack’s shoulder, afraid to show any more affection. If Jack had been involved in this project, then the odds were good they were under surveillance at the moment. “Stay,” Jack whispered. “In the guest room at least. Tomorrow we’ll have Carter take another crack at it. There’s gotta be some info we can get our hands on.” “Yeah,” Daniel agreed. “Tomorrow.” *** He woke alone this time, and he wondered briefly why. He crept down the hallway and heard slightly labored breathing. Gently he pushed the door open and caught sight of the man from earlier, curled tightly around a pillow. Daniel. That’s what he said his name was. Daniel was asleep. The card was where he left it, on the coffee table, under greasy plates that hadn’t been cleaned up yet. He found a phone in the kitchen, and dialed the number with hesitant fingers. “Hello?” A sleepy voice answered, and he winced. But it couldn’t be helped. “Pete?” he whispered. “MacGyver?” the voice cried incredulously. “Where are you?” “I’m not sure.” He looked around quickly, spying a phone book on a shelf near the phone. “Somewhere in Colorado Springs according to this…” He flipped it open and found maps, fortunately. “Can I meet you someplace?” he asked, tearing the maps from the book with a precise motion. “Phoenix has a satellite office in Denver,” Pete said excitedly. “I can meet you there.” “Give me the address, I’ll find it,” MacGyver promised. He scribbled down the address on a spare pad of paper, tearing off the top sheet. Now, how to do this? He walked back upstairs and opened the closet. There was a row of clothes, and they all seemed to fit him. Quickly, he dressed, stopping once as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. “What the hell happened to me?” he murmured, touching his face, his hair, the scar over one eyebrow. He heard the labored breathing pause as he walked past the doorway, then start again in one long snore. Sighing in relief, he went back downstairs, finding a wallet on the countertop. He flicked it open, and there was his face on a driver’s license with another man’s name. There was also another ID, for a military base. Fortunately, there was also a good amount of cash inside. He snapped the wallet closed slipping it into his back pocket. Quickly, he left the house, thinking he could walk far enough and then call a cab from a pay phone. He didn't want Daniel to know he had left. He didn’t know what to make of the younger man, not having enough to judge his character. Of course, Daniel had called him ‘Jack,’ so he must be in on whatever this was. He felt slightly uncomfortable recalling how he had woken up with the young man in his bed. Was Daniel his lover, or his keeper in whatever twisted situation he had gotten himself into? Maybe Pete had the answers. *** The security guard in the building was expecting him; and escorted him up to the twelfth floor, where Pete’s office was. Nervously, he knocked on the door. “Come in!” It was so good to hear that voice, at last, something familiar. He pushed open the door to the sight of Peter Thornton, sitting behind his desk, a guide dog at his side. The dog looked up at him and sniffed; seemingly satisfied, he put his head down on his paws. “Aw, Pete,” he sighed, realizing that his friend had lost his battle for his sight. “MacGyver,” Pete gasped. “It’s really you?” “I, ah, think so,” he scratched his hair idly, momentarily distracted by realizing how much less of it there was. “Although that’s not what it says in my wallet.” “Jack O’Neill,” Pete said. “Yeah, that’s what it says, but I have no idea who that is.” MacGyver moved further into the office, sitting at the chair in front of Pete’s desk. The dog continued to look at him, and he resisted the urge to pet him. “But you do, Pete. You can tell me what is going on. What’s happened to me?” Pete sat back in his chair. “What’s the last thing you remember?” He stopped to think, and stopped himself from answering ‘waking up with Daniel.’ “I volunteered for the Air Force Memory Recall project. I was testing a machine that could recall memories and display them on screen…” Peter frowned. “That’s what we thought too. That was over fifteen years ago, MacGyver.” He gaped, disbelieving. “Fifteen years…? How is that possible?” Pete ran his hand over the top of his desk, picking up a file folder, which he handed out to MacGyver. “This is what our R and D teams were able to find. That Memory Recall project turned out to be Project Mnemosyne. Basically they wanted to see if they could reprogram a person, turn him into someone else. Make a pacifist into a soldier. Then, put him on rotation and see how he does.” MacGyver paled as he flipped through the contents of the file. “And this is what happened to me?” Pete nodded. “Only things got a bit out of hand. Their creation, Jack O’Neill was perfect. Too perfect. He got married. Had a kid. Developed into a life of his own.” MacGyver swallowed hard. Married? With a kid? Then how did that explain Daniel in his bed? Where was his wife? “But I am Jack O’Neill?” “We have a theory on that.” “Please, share.” “We think what the machine and subsequent brainwashing succeeded in doing was mimic the effects of Multiple Personality Disorder.” “One personality develops, usually to take care of the ‘weaker’ or ‘vulnerable’ one. Sometimes the personalities aren’t aware that the other exists,” MacGyver mused aloud. “Right. And the researchers think that running into Jack Dalton two weeks ago was enough to help your personality come back into dominance.” “This is crazy, Pete,” he declared, tossing the folder back on the desk as he began to pace the office. “But it’s true, Mac. It’s 2002. George Bush is president…” “The Vice President?” “His son, actually.” MacGyver sat down again. “Can we fix this, Pete? I’ve been blacking in and out. I assume that’s when O’Neill shows up…” “We can try. But not right now, it’s late…well, very early. Have you slept at all?” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to go to sleep. What if I wake up someone else?” “Come on, you can stay in my hotel room. I’ve got an extra bed.” *** Daniel knew something was wrong when he was able to sleep way past 0800. Normally, Jack would have woken him up by now, usually with breakfast already on the table. Then again, he wasn’t usually in Jack’s guestroom either -- at least not for the past few months. While Jack’s manner outside of this house could be gruff and impersonal, Jack was the perfect lover within these walls. He refrained from dwelling on those thoughts. Daniel knew why Jack did it; understood the risks they both faced if they were ever discovered. But having Jack walk away from him, just because they were in public…well, he wouldn’t be human if he hadn’t been slightly hurt. Sleepily, Daniel made his way through Jack’s home, but couldn’t find Jack. He frowned when he caught sight of Jack’s keys sitting on the counter, minus the wallet Jack always placed beside them. On a hunch, Daniel dialed up the Mountain and asked if Jack had checked in. When security told him no, he asked to be transferred to Sam’s extension. “Daniel?” she asked, sounding surprised to hear him. He really should have been in by now. “Sam, I think we have a problem. Jack’s gone.” She cursed, and he held the phone away from his ear at the invective in her voice. “I have an idea,” she told him. “Get here as soon as you can.” He didn’t bother showering, pausing only to dress before heading straight for the SGC. Daniel met up with Sam in her lab. “We’ve got a meeting with Hammond,” she said, gathering up all the papers. “I take it you’ve found something?” That was a relief; he should have known Sam would figure this out. She gestured to the door. “I’ll explain in the briefing room. Let’s go.” They managed to grab Teal’c on the way there, and Daniel quickly filled their teammate in on how Jack had gone missing. Teal’c had frowned deeply, and asked how he could help. Hammond brought some files of his own into their meeting. Daniel was beginning to feel almost naked without files of his own. “You’ve got more information about Project Mnemosyne.” “Yes.” Hammond frowned. “And the more I learn about it, the less I like it. Dr. Jackson, why don’t you begin?” He shrugged. “I went home with Jack last night, to keep an eye on him. We were sitting there watching TV when suddenly he was someone else. He had no idea who I was, and claimed to be this MacGyver guy. Then, just as quickly, he was back to being Jack again. This morning he was gone. He took his wallet, but not his keys.” “His behavior was similar on P35-1123,” Teal’c said, folding his hands on the table. “Crap,” Sam murmured. “Major? What do you have to add?” Sam explained, “The Colonel had asked me to check up on MacGyver. I hadn’t found anything wrong with his background, except for leading a rather interesting life and disappearing off the face of the earth over fifteen years ago. Then I couldn’t get past any of the security on the Mnemosyne Project. I decided I was going about this the wrong way.” She passed out the papers from her folder. Daniel got it immediately. “So you did a background check on Jack.” Sam nodded. “And his background holds up. Until you start digging deeper.” “How much deeper?” Teal’c asked curiously. “This is a constructed background. It’s done very well, and it has everything, birth certificate, school report cards, death notices on Mary and Jonathan O’Neill, Sr. But little things don’t fit. Mary and Jonathan O’Neill existed, but their obituaries don’t list any surviving children. Tiny details like that can’t be fudged.” Daniel looked at the photocopied obituary in front of him and frowned. He struggled to make sense of what Sam was proposing. “So what exactly are you saying? All this time Jack…Jack’s been somebody else? He’s just pretending to be Jack?” “No, Dr. Jackson,” Hammond broke in. “Colonel O’Neill has no idea that at one time he was someone else.” “What do you mean?” Daniel asked, feeling his cheeks flush. This was just too much. What else could happen to Jack? “Project Mnemosyne sought to create the perfect soldier.” Hammond opened up his own folder. “The only reason I have access to this information is because of a friend of mine in the Pentagon. The project was hushed up before even George Bush, Sr. became president. The goal was to take a man with a certain set of skills and create another one, someone with those same skills, but who believed himself a member of the United States Air Force. Someone willing to do dirty jobs and possibly die for their country.” “But something went wrong,” Sam guessed. Hammond nodded. “Everything seemed to go well at first. Major Jack O’Neill performed well in the field. The problem came when he returned to the United States. He met one Sara Ashford, and they married after a six month courtship.” “Why was that a problem?” Daniel asked. Sam jumped in. “Their perfect soldier wasn’t supposed to have a life, was he? The more and more he became integrated into society, the less chance there was of turning him back into the man he was before.” “What these reports tell me is that the project basically created some kind of Multiple Personality Disorder in Mr. MacGyver.” “Making Jack a separate personality, but no less a person,” Daniel murmured. “But why is it breaking down now?” Sam asked. Daniel flashed back to two weeks ago. “Because Jack ran into an old friend of MacGyver’s…God, this is so strange. Why hasn’t this happened before? Has Jack always been under some kind of surveillance?” “Right now what we need to do is contain the situation,” Hammond said. “We have to find Colonel O’Neill and bring him back to the SGC to get him the help he needs.” “What if there’s no Colonel O’Neill left?” Sam asked quietly. “I mean, if the personality overlay is degrading, there might not be anyone left to help.” “No,” Daniel bit out. Not with Jack’s track record. The man always landed on his feet. “I don’t believe that. We have to help Jack, he’s just as confused about what’s happened to him as we are.” Hammond nodded. “Do you have any idea where he might have gone, Dr. Jackson?” Daniel frowned. Jack, yes, he had dozens of places in mind where Jack could have gone to escape, but he didn’t know MacGyver, and he feared that MacGyver was the personality in control at the moment. Wait a minute, what about that guy who came to visit Jack? “Peter Thornton. He was a friend of MacGyver’s. He came to see Jack once.” “Do you have any idea how to contact Mr. Thornton?” Daniel thought for a moment. “I think Jack had a card with his information. It might still be back at the house.” Hammond nodded. “Retrieve it, and see if you can get in touch with Thornton. Take Teal’c with you, and keep me apprised of any updates.” “Yes, sir,” Sam said, and Daniel nodded. *** Jack curled against his pillow, missing the warmth of a loving body next to his. Though he and Daniel rarely spent the entire night together, for fear of discovery, he had gotten used to having his lover around lately. Something was wrong with this pillow though; it wasn’t as fluffy as he expected. He opened his eyes and looked around dazed. This wasn’t his bedroom – hell, it looked like a sleazy hotel room. What the hell had he done last night? “Daniel?” he called out hopefully. “No, sorry.” Pete Thornton emerged from the bathroom. His dog, which had been lying at the side of the bed, scampered up to him. “Good boy, Buddy,” Pete praised the Golden Retriever fondly. “I take it the O’Neill personality is dominant at the moment?” Jack flopped back onto the bed. “It is way too early in the morning for this…What the hell are you talking about? The last thing I remember is going to sleep in my own bed, now I wake up in this sleazy hotel room…” He sat up suddenly and looked around for the rest of his clothes and shoes, trying to determine where exactly he was and how to get out of the situation quickly. Pete flushed, and he slowly made his way to his own bed, where he sat. “Let me explain what I told MacGyver yesterday…” *** Jack knew it wasn’t going to be good. He wasn’t sure how much of Thornton’s story to actually believe, especially when he got to the part about being only a construct. Thornton was saying that HE, Jack O’Neill, was not real, just a figment created by some twisted government minds. “This can’t be right,” Jack began once Pete had finished. “I remember my childhood, I remember growing up in Minnesota, my grandfather’s cabin…” Thornton latched onto that, “MacGyver is from Minnesota. That cabin belonged to his grandfather…” Jack shook his head. “You think I wouldn’t notice my own grandfather had a different name?” “MacGyver had no close family left, which is why he was such a perfect target for this project!” Thornton complained. “Well, except for his son…” Jack’s head snapped up. “His son?” “Sam Malloy…” Thornton replied. “I haven’t spoken to him in years, after Mac disappeared…” If Jack really had been this MacGyver guy, then this kid was really his son too. He swallowed hard. “How old is he?” Thornton shrugged. “About 29 or so now, I guess.” “Crap,” Jack swore. “You know,” Thornton began tentatively, “when I read your file, found out that you had married and settled down…well, it was like you had done the one thing Mac could never bring himself to do.” “Look, I am not MacGyver!” Jack finally exclaimed, aggravated with the entire conversation. “How do you explain the black outs, the lost time? Can you explain how you got here? The conversation we had last night? Come to the Phoenix Foundation Building with me, watch the video tape of yourself speaking as someone else!” Thornton smacked his fist onto the bed. “Damn it. It’s so easy to forget you’re not him, that you can’t just trust me like you used to do.” All the more reason to get this all straightened out as soon as possible. “Ok,” Jack agreed begrudgingly, “I’ll go with you to this Phoenix place. But I have to call my, er, boss first. Let them know I’m ok.” Thornton nodded. “I have a cell phone on the desk.” Jack nodded. He obviously hadn’t left the house with his own phone, or even his beeper. Crap, what if something had happened at the SGC? Then again, he wasn’t at his best at the moment, and if he wigged out while off-planet again, well then he couldn’t be counted on to do his job. He grabbed Thornton’s phone, and dialed the SGC. The signal cut out before connecting. He snapped it shut. “I can’t get a signal.” Thornton frowned. “That’s funny, it’s been working fine all week.” Something didn’t sit right, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. He picked up the room phone and heard only silence instead of a dial tone. “Stay down,” he hissed, looking around for his jacket. “Don’t suppose I brought my gun?” Thornton crouched down between the two beds, his dog at his side. “Mac doesn’t believe in guns.” Jack grimaced. “Well, that’s fine and dandy when I’m not being followed…” “Followed, by whom?” “Your guess is as good as mine,” Jack growled. He picked up a lamp, and parked himself behind the door. There was a crash, and the door swung open just as something flew through the windows. Jack brought the lamp hard down on the first guy through the door, and socked the second guy in the gut, fumbling to grab his weapon. They tumbled to the ground, Jack pinning the man easily. “Enough!” He couldn’t be everywhere, and couldn’t account for the woman who held a gun to Thornton’s head. She was dressed like the two goons who had broken down the door, in black jumpsuits that just screamed NID. “So much for a low profile,” Jack tossed. “There isn’t a person in this hotel who didn’t hear that window break.” She grinned. “It’s a simple robbery, Mr. MacGyver, or is it Colonel O’Neill?” “I’ll tell you my name if you tell me yours,” he said lightly. She grinned, tossing her dark hair over her shoulders. “Now that would be telling. You will come with us, or the old man gets it…” “Hey!” Thornton exclaimed. “And the dog,” the witch added. “I’ll go with you,” Jack agreed. “Just don’t hurt the dog!” “Thanks a lot!” “Let me just put on my shoes and get my jacket,” Jack sighed, resigned. He kept his hands visible as that woman watched him like a hawk. Her cronies had recovered, and stood guard at the door. When she moved to put the gun at his back, to direct him outside, he realized she was making a crucial mistake. They were going to let Pete go. *** “I’m afraid you can’t see Mr. Thornton without an appointment,” the friendly receptionist gave the disappointing news to Daniel and his team, consisting of Sam and Teal’c, both dressed a low-key as possible, though Teal’c’s fedora was stretching it a bit. “Can you at least tell him that it’s about Ja…” Daniel caught himself. “MacGyver?” The young woman’s eyes lit up. “You know MacGyver? They’ve been looking for him for such a long time. I’m Penny Parker, he and I were good friends and…” She began speaking in a rush, the words blurring together. Sam held up her hand. “If you could just give that message to Mr. Thornton…” “Oh, uh, sure!” she moved to pick up the phone. Daniel had taken the opportunity to look over the receptionist’s shoulder as she spoke. “Twelve,” he mouthed to Sam. Thirty minutes, a back stairway and one unconscious security guard later, they finally stood outside Pete Thornton’s door. Daniel raised his hand to knock, ignoring Teal’c raised eyebrow. Teal’c was right after all, if they had bullied their way up here, what was the point in politeness now? Thornton was on the phone, and his dog barked sharply at the intrusion. “Who’s there?” Pete demanded, holding the phone slightly away from his face. “My name is Daniel Jackson. We met at Jack O’Neill’s place,” Daniel began. “Do you know where he is?” Pete put the phone down. “I was hoping you’d get in touch with me.” *** The agents manhandled Jack into a nondescript white van, taking a moment to blindfold him before a blow between his shoulders dropped Jack to his knees. His arms were pulled behind him, snagging uncomfortably on his jacket, and bound tightly. They had patted him down for weapons beforehand, taking his Swiss army knife and wallet but leaving most of the usual crap in his pockets. Unfortunately, it was nothing he could quite reach at the moment. The cold barrel of a gun remained pressed at the base of his neck, reminding him to keep still. Jack tried counting the turns, but lost track after the fifth left or so. They were probably too well trained for that trick. If they were NID -- and all evidence pointed to that -- then they’d most likely take him to a nearby ‘safe’ location, and then either wait for until things blew over or for further orders. His odds of survival weren’t terribly great after that. Who knew what they thought was going on? Then again, if they were part of this Project Mnemosyne, all they might want to do was cut their losses and erase any trace of it ever existing. And that would mean erasing one Jack O’Neill. He would not let that happen. The vehicle came to a stop, and before he could tense up for any action on his part, a sharp blow under his ribs had him doubling over in pain and aching for breath. They didn’t give him time to regroup, dragging him out of the van. One arm curled around his neck in a threatening grip, as the muzzle of a gun was pressed hard against his back. He knew better than to move. It wasn’t quite time to make his move yet. They all but threw him into a room, and Jack rolled awkwardly, trying to get his bearings while blindfolded and bound. A gunshot caused him to freeze. “Remember we’d just as soon as shoot you as keep you,” the female agent hissed. Then the door slammed shut and he was alone. A few moments of wriggling later, and he managed to pull his bound hands up and over his feet and legs, so they were no longer trapped behind his back. He removed the blindfold and took a quick look around the room. They might as well have shoved him in a closet. It looked like a cleared out room, with grainy linoleum floor and fading gray paint. There was one dark stained window, and he got to his feet eagerly. He couldn’t see out the dark glass, and a cursory tug showed that it was stuck. Crap. They had used those new flex-cuffs on him. They weren’t coming off unless cut off. He tried experimenting by pulling at the plastic with his teeth. There was some give, but not enough. Dammit, he slammed his clenched fists against the wall. This was just what he needed, to be stymied by something as simple as handcuffs. Why couldn’t they be normal cuffs? That way he might have a chance at picking the lock. Jack slumped to the ground, leaning his head and back against one dirty wall. Something jabbed him in his side, and he went fishing to see what it was. A pen, in his jacket pocket. A fat lot of good that did him now…a thought struck him suddenly, and he uncapped the pen with his teeth. He had seen this movie once where a guy kept forgetting stuff that happened to him only minutes before, so he’d tattoo important bits of information on his body. Right now Jack was sharing his body with someone else, or, at least, that was how he chose to think of it. He needed to get a message to his other half, so MacGyver would know what was going on. He rolled up his pants leg and scrawled quick note on his ankle. *** Not again, MacGyver thought absently, once more waking up in a strange place with no idea of how he got there. He tugged at his hands and frowned, realizing they were tied together by white plastic strips. Hmph. He liked it better when he was waking up next to the warm body that was Daniel. Where did that thought come from? He was about to shift his legs into a more comfortable position when he saw the black print underneath his jeans’ pant leg. First thought was that he had somehow acquired a tattoo, and that didn’t make him happy. When he pulled up the fabric, he grinned. “Hi, I’m Jack. Nice to meet you. We’ve been nabbed by some nitwits called the NID. They are the BAD guys. Pete’s safe, I think. Get us out of here, would ya?” Well, that was interesting. He found the pen, discarded at his feet and scrawled a note of his own underneath it, the handwriting nearly identical. Good way of communicating with his ‘other’ personality; he wished he’d thought of it. First things first, get these cuffs off. He checked his pockets, but didn’t find much of use, except for a paperclip. Those captors had missed it during their search. He looked around the room, trying to find something he could use. There was a light fixture in the ceiling, and he frowned thoughtfully. Standing up, he realized he could reach it if he balanced on the windowsill. Using the paper clip and balancing as carefully as he could with his bound hands, he unscrewed the glass ball over the light bulb. There was a brief second of panic as he realized he couldn’t catch the ball with his tied hands, and he lost his balance, falling the few feet to the ground. He bit his lip against the sharp pain shooting down his back. The fixture fell with him, and he was able to cushion it with his chest. He wanted it to break, but he didn’t want to bring his jailors running with the clatter. He wrapped the fixture up in part of his jacket, muffling the sound before cracking it hard against the wall. The glass split in half easily. He tested the edge against the plastic, only to determine it wasn’t quite sharp enough. Thoughtfully, he ran a finger along the windowsill – it looked to be granite. If he ran the glass along it, he could sharpen the edge of this impromptu knife. Finally, he rested his wrists on the sill, awkwardly twisting his fingers till the glass touched the plastic, slicing it against the stone. With some luck, he would be out of here soon. *** Daniel paced with frustration. Pete Thornton had called in one of Phoenix’s experts, a psychiatrist named Nancy Higgens, to help them understand exactly what was going on with Jack. She was an older woman with mousy brown hair and thick glasses, dressed in a smart business suit. They had played a few rounds of ‘what do you know,’ since neither SG-1 nor the Phoenix employees could just give away top-secret information, not even to help someone they cared about. Now Dr. Higgens and Sam were arguing across the room, and Daniel had tuned out after the techno babble had stretched his limits of understanding. God, he knew how Jack felt when his eyes glazed over after listening to one of Sam’s or even Daniel’s own lectures. Dammit, he wished Jack were here, giving Sam that look that would make her switch into terms he could understand. Maybe even crack some bad jokes to break the tension. Daniel was aware of the rising sense of urgency, feeling like they were running out of time. He wanted to get moving, to go out and find his lover instead of sitting here talking about it. Part of his agitation, he knew, was fear that he wouldn’t see Jack again, instead he would be confronted by the blank eyes of that stranger: MacGyver. From all accounts, MacGyver wasn’t a bad guy. He’d seen the files Sam had pulled up, marveled at the genius of a man who did everything from weapons testing to amateur archaeology. To think he and Jack were the same person…well he couldn’t imagine his Jack willingly traveling to South America to look for treasure, or trying to find the Holy Grail. No matter what he might have in common with MacGyver, Daniel would sacrifice that man in a heartbeat to get his Jack back. “You don’t understand,” Sam was telling Dr. Higgens. “Both personalities can be integrated …” “It’s impossible Dr. Carter,” Higgens said coolly. “If my calculations are correct, the two personalities will continue to degrade, culminating in much more rapid periods of ascendancy for both personas, until neither are coherent.” “Wait a minute,” Daniel broke into the argument. “Are you saying we could lose them both? That after a while there will be nothing left to save?” Higgens nodded. “And it’s going to happen soon. I don’t know how the overlay lasted this long.” “We have to find Jack,” Daniel said, facing both of them, though he had no idea where to start. Sam met Daniel’s eyes. “I think I know of a way to help him.” He tried to follow her train of thought and gather the reason as to why she was staring at him so intently. The Tok’ra, of course. “Sam, are you thinking your, uh, dad could be of some help here?” She quirked a grin at him. “I’ll need to contact Hammond.” Probably to get clearance for Dr. Higgens, no matter how unpleasant the woman was. She was, after all, the closest thing to an expert they had. All they needed to do now was find Jack. As if on cue, Pete Thornton stepped back into the conference room with his guide dog, a young aide at Thornton’s side holding some papers. “Good news; they’ve found him.” “What?” Daniel nearly jumped. “How?” “I planted a tracer on MacGyver’s jacket while he was sleeping, just in case O’Neill decided to leave. An insurance policy if you will. It’s turned out in our favor. They have finally stopped moving and we have a fix on their location. An abandoned industrial warehouse outside of Denver.” “Then let’s go!” Sam had stood and put a restraining hand on Daniel’s arm. “You and T…Murray go with the Phoenix operatives. Higgens and I will go back to base. When you find him, bring him straight there.” “Dr. Carter?” Pete broke in. “Are you sure that’s wise?” “I can save both of them, Mr. Thornton,” she said confidently. Daniel hoped she meant it, because he wasn’t confident of anything right now. *** Jack looked down at his suddenly freed hands, blinking in astonishment. He hadn’t gone to sleep that time, merely blinked and he was in an entirely different part of the room, broken glass at his feet and the plastic ties shredded at his fingertips. God, it was getting worse. He hadn’t been out for more than a few minutes, he noticed, double checking he watch. Then he remembered his leg note and drew up his pants leg to check for any return messages. “Nice to meet ya Jack. I’ll take care of the bindings. You get us out of here. P.S. Who is Daniel?” Jack sighed and looked around for the pen to write back. Then he stood and stretched, wincing at the shooting pains climbing up and down his back. What had MacGyver done to his body? He looked up and noted the missing light fixture and sighed. There went one guess at least. Unfortunately none of the shards of glass left over could function as a good weapon. He’d have to find some other way of getting past his captor’s guns. Jack figured he was as ready as he was ever going to be and stood up against the door, placing his ear against the wood. He could hear voices on the other side, low and muffled. He tried counting the tones and guessed there was about two guys out there. Cake, if this went down like he wanted it to. He picked up the largest piece of glass left over and stationed himself just behind the door before he slung the glass as hard as he could against the window. It made a satisfyingly loud crash as it struck the stained glass. And just as Jack had hoped it brought the henchmen running. The door opened as one of them ran through, and Jack slammed it back into the man’s face. Before the guy could recover, Jack kneed him in the stomach and then hit him in the back of the neck. The guy was down and out. “Dave?” the other guy called. “What’s going on?” Idiot, Jack thought as the jerk entered the cell, gun first. It was a simple matter to slam his fist down on the wrist and knock the weapon to the floor. Then he twisted the man’s arm behind his back and put him in a chokehold. “Where the fuck are we?” he demanded. The guy tried biting his arm, but Jack only squeezed harder until the man dropped, unconscious at his feet. He took a few minutes to use the unconscious men’s belts to tie their arms behind their backs, using their own socks to gag them. That should buy him some time. He pocketed the two handguns; one in the back of his jeans, the other he kept lowered and ready for action. The hallway seemed clear, and he carefully made his way down it, making sure the door was closed and locked behind him. With the two goons knocked out, it seemed that Jack was alone in the building. He needed to get out and call Hammond. He still had no clue who had nabbed him or what they wanted. Without that information, the best thing he could do was simply fade away and get back to either the SGC or the Phoenix Foundation. Something wasn’t right. All his instincts were on full alert as he made his way through the empty building. There was a reason there were only two guys on his ‘cell.’ There were at least four in the group at the hotel, and the other two were nowhere to be found. He managed to make it outside when he saw the sniper on the roof. He ducked behind some boxes and an abandoned car. This looked like an old junkyard, or warehouse or something. It was too quiet, and any sound he made would let them know exactly where he was. As he calculated the odds of hitting the sniper with the handgun, he heard the sound of approaching wheels on gravel. A car was driving up the path towards the main building. Hmmm, if he could make it over there, maybe he could hitch a ride. He peaked over the edge of the boxes to see men in dark suits get out of the black Buick. The woman who had held him at gunpoint earlier exited the building and shook hands with the newcomers. So that’s what they were waiting for, eh? This worked just fine. They would follow her into the building, and if he could manage to get to the car unscathed, he could drive away from this place. All he had to worry about was the sniper on the roof, and since that guy had the entire yard around the long building to cover, he could probably run across while he was patrolling the other end. Jack eased closer, trying to cover as much ground as possible while he was hidden by the boxes, crates and debris. Damn, there was about 30 yard of open ground before the next bit of cover. He looked up and watched as the sniper walked in the opposite direction. Tensing, he started to run… MacGyver looked around him in confusion, once again not having any idea where he was. He remembered being inside, working to undo the plastic ties that held his wrists together. Now he was outside and waving a gun around. He heard a shout and a sharp, familiar pain struck his right shoulder, knocking him to the ground. Oh, so that’s what he was doing, he thought, getting to his feet and running for cover, leaving the gun on the ground behind him. He dove behind some boxes, clutching his bleeding arm. Damn, it hurt; no matter how many times it had happened to him nothing could dull the intensity of a gunshot wound. The throbbing ran up and down his arm, effectively numbing one half of his body. He had to get out of here, with luck the adrenaline coursing through him would keep shock from setting in. He heard shouting; they knew where he was. He needed to move, now. MacGyver staggered to his feet and began to run, just trying to be someplace else when they came looking for him. Dust rose up in front of him as bullets scattered across the ground like lethal rain. He stopped, raising his one good hand. When the going got rough … surrender. *** When Jack opened his eyes he was tied to a chair, and a piercing pain shot down his right arm. Goddamn MacGyver, that bastard had gotten him shot. He glanced around the room into the angry faces of his kidnappers and the strange men in suits he had glimpsed outside. Shot and captured again. He’d have to have a few words with MacGyver. As soon as his hands were free so he could write on his leg again. He began writing the note mentally, “You idiot, didn’t anyone teach you to duck?” One of the men in black stepped forward; he was an older dude, with wisps of white hair clinging to his forehead. “Now, MacGyver, I believe we should have that chat.” “Um, sorry, you’ve gotten the wrong guy,” Jack half shrugged and then winced. Goddamn bullet! “Ah, Colonel O’Neill, I was wondering when you’d make an appearance.” The guy grinned, revealing a set of mismatched yellow teeth. “Crap,” he muttered. “Look, I’m probably bleeding to death here, so can we get this over with?” “You are not bleeding to death. I patched you up myself.” “And you are?” Jack snarled. “Dr. Alan Von Schmidt.” The man stalked across the room, over to a table where a briefcase was set up. Jack couldn’t make out what else was on the table. “We last met over ten years ago. Of course, you were someone else then. I helped create you, Jack.” “Fuck you,” he snapped, unable to think up an appropriately snappy comeback. The girl with the gun grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. “We don’t have time for your bullshit, O’Neill.” “And I have no idea who you are, or should I just address you as the wicked-witch of the west?” She pulled his head back harder and raised her other hand, as if to backhand him. “Katrina, enough,” Dr. Schmidt’s voice carried across the room. She grinned down at Jack before releasing his head and moving away. “What do you want from me?” Jack gritted out. Schmidt turned away from the table, a loaded syringe in one hand. Crap, that wasn’t good. “Project Mnemosyne needs to be closed, and you are the last loose end. I cannot believe how they just let you run free.” The doctor tapped at the needle, squirting a tiny amount of clear liquid into the air. “I can’t believe you’re just going to kill me,” Jack forced himself to say. “Going to all this trouble just for that. Shame, really.” “Kill you? Oh, not yet. Not at all.” The doctor reached his side and plunged the needle into Jack’s uninjured arm. “Well, perhaps. The O’Neill personality will need to be wiped. After, of course, we debrief you on where you’ve been these past 5 years.” “Fuck,” Jack tried to jerk away from him, but he couldn’t move, as immobilized by the rope around the chair as by his wound. “You’re crazy, all of you!” The doctor turned his back on Jack, walking towards the table once more. “There is no need for that, Colonel. Now, shall we being with 1994?” *** Daniel didn’t exactly understand what the Phoenix Foundation was, or how they happened to have a helicopter and operatives equivalent to a swat team, but he was certainly grateful. He reminded himself to take advantage of his security clearance later and do some digging when this was all over. “Ready, Murray?” he called over the sounds of the churning blades of the aircraft. They had landed just outside of the complex and were met by several police cars. All this was apparently arranged via Thornton, who was back in Denver waiting on their word. Teal’c merely inclined his head to one side, as he often did. He was wearing a green bandanna to cover his tattoo, and Daniel wished Jack were there to make the requisite Rambo joke. Simpson, one of the operatives working with them, spoke into his radio quickly. “They’ve found them, Dr. Jackson. We’ve got the swat team surrounding them now.” “Let’s go,” Daniel followed the young man into the building, Teal’c at his side. They didn’t have any weapons, hence the reason for the swat team. Though he was content to let them lead, Daniel wanted to make sure Jack was okay for himself. Simpson led them up a set of stairs until they reached a closed door. There were operatives flanking the doorway. One nodded and then turned and broke down the door. The other operative and Simpson were right behind him, guns at the ready. “Drop your weapons! Hands in the air, now!” Daniel waited a heartbeat, then darted into the room. He swallowed hard at the sight of Jack, bound to a chair in the center of the time room like out of an interrogation scene from a bad movie. Jack’s head lolled to one side and drool oozed from the corner of his mouth. Daniel moved to his side and touched his cheek. “Jack?” he murmured. He caught the sight of blood oozing through the sleeve on Jack’s shirt and called to Simpson, “Get the paramedics in here!” “Daniel?” Jack opened his eyes and tried to make eye contact, though he couldn’t quite manage it. “Easy, Jack, we’ll have you out of here as soon as possible.” Daniel tugged at the ropes binding Jack, frowning. Then Teal’c was at his side with a knife. “Allow me, Daniel Jackson.” “Thank you.” Together they helped Jack get free and eased him to the ground. He was starting to twitch, and Daniel feared it was the beginnings of a seizure. He stepped back to allow the paramedics carrying the stretcher. They, too, were employees of Phoenix. As Jack was being strapped in and settled, Daniel turned to take in the rest of the scene. He had hardly noticed the operatives that had come in through the windows as well and now had all of Jack’s tormentors in handcuffs. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with,” a young woman was shouting. “We work for the United States government. This is an authorized operation!” Daniel wanted to smack her. “How is torture authorized?” he challenged. “He volunteered for the project,” she explained. “That makes him government property. And for the record, it wasn’t torture; it was cleaning up a mess.” “And playing with a man’s life!” “Daniel Jackson,” Teal’c broke in quietly. Daniel turned away and allowed them to lead her away. Teal’c was standing by the table set up in the corner of the room where a briefcase full of tiny bottles of various drugs was set up. “God, what did they do to him?” Teal’c pointed to a used syringe. “I believe that will answer your question.” “Simpson! Can someone wrap this up? We’ll need to know what they stuck in Jack.” “Sure, Dr. Jackson.” Simpson directed two of his men with some hand signals. Daniel moved to where the paramedics were wheeling Jack out. “We have to airlift him to Colorado Springs.” One of the EMTs turned and glared at him. “Are you kidding? The nearest hospital is only five minutes away.” “If you take him to an ordinary hospital, he’ll die,” Daniel protested, though they hadn’t stopped moving. “Daniel Jackson is correct.” Teal’c had followed them. “You WILL take Colonel O’Neill to Cheyenne Mountain.” Thank god for Teal’c. “And you can confirm that with Pete Thornton.” They were headed for the helicopter. ‘Hold on, Jack,’ he pleaded mentally, ‘Just hold on!’ *** “His vitals are stable for the moment,” Dr. Janet Fraiser apprised the rest of SG-1, Peter Thornton, Dr. Higgens, General Hammond, and Anise of the Tok’ra in the briefing room. “Although Colonel O’Neill still hasn’t regained consciousness.” Sam watched in amusement as Nancy Higgens and Anise continued to glare at each other. Higgens and Thornton both had gotten clearance to be brought into the lower levels of Cheyenne Mountain. She had been initially surprised, but found the secrecy surrounding the Phoenix Foundation rivaled the SGC, and employees needed a comparable level of clearance. “Is he stable enough to try the device?” Sam interjected. That was the purpose of this meeting after all, to determine what could be done to help one Colonel Jack O’Neill, once known as MacGyver. “I still don’t know what you hope to accomplish with this,” Dr. Higgens broke in, looking more than perturbed. “The drug Dr. Schmidt gave him will remove all traces of the O’Neill personality.” “Jack has just as much right to live as MacGyver does,” Daniel said coldly, staring at Higgens until she looked away uncomfortably. “But you’re forgetting MacGyver hasn’t lived for fifteen years,” Thornton put in quietly. Sam stood and switched on the overhead projector. “Some of you are familiar with the Tok’ra memory device. I believe using this machine, in conjunction with the drugs originally formulated by Project Mnemosyne, can help integrate the two disparate personalities.” General Hammond turned to Anise. “Do you believe this device is capable of doing this?” She appeared to think it over. “It is possible, General Hammond. I believe Major Carter is attempting to compare this situation to that of a symbiote and its host.” “That’s exactly it,” Sam agreed. The device had helped her integrate the memories of Jolinar; it could do the same for Colonel O’Neill. Hammond turned to Janet. “Dr. Fraiser, I’m waiting for your input on this.” She frowned. “I’m willing to let Sam try, as long as I continue to monitor his vitals.” He nodded. “Then you have a go. Dr. Fraiser, Major Carter, keep me informed.” *** Daniel sat in the chair next to Jack’s bed in the infirmary. He had beat out Teal’c for the spot, and Sam kept jumping around, double checking the instruments and generally annoying Anise who was working the equipment. “You have to make it through, Jack,” he murmured. “Because you have got to see this.” He hated that he couldn’t touch Jack, not in front of the others, when they were so closely monitored. A gentle pat from a friend would be fine, but what Daniel really wanted to do was hold on to Jack’s hand and not let go. He didn’t want Jack to forget him; he didn’t want to lose his lover. But even more than that, he didn’t want Jack to lose himself. “C’mon, Jack.” *** He knew this place, this dark, humid cell. He was bound, chained to the wall like some kind of animal. Four months of his life lost to this place and nothing could make him forget it, especially the smell, the stink of unwashed bodies, and the stench of raw sewage. The door swung open, and at first he thought it was them come back for more. As if breaking his fingers wasn’t enough. Maybe they’d work on his legs next. Light shown from the door, illuminating the figure coming towards him. It was himself, but younger, stronger, better. “Come on, Jack, let’s get you out of here.” This place was familiar too. Long associated with laughter and pleasant memories. Now he sat on his son’s bed, contemplating the revolver in his hands. So cold. No matter how he warmed the metal between his fingers, the gun remained icy in his grasp. Much like his son’s body… “Jack. Let’s get you out of here.” And there he was again -- him, but not him. For a moment he accepted the comfort, losing himself in the embrace of this intimate stranger. His other self. Let him bear the burden. Jack was tired, so very, very tired… “No!” he sprang up shouting, pushing his false self away. Now he stood in the shadow of the one thing that had given meaning to his life. The large ring of the Stargate towered behind them as he stared MacGyver down in the Gate room. “I won’t let you do this. I want to live, dammit.” “What about me?” MacGyver challenged. “Don’t I have the right to live too?” Jack turned away from him, staring at the Stargate. “What I do is important.” “I could do the job better, you know that.” “Right, Mr. Afraid To Use A Gun can defeat the Goa’uld.” “You don’t know anything about that.” The Gate room faded away into the wilds of a forest. Jack knew this place, recognized the way the light filtered off the soft trees and into the clearing. It was home, Minnesota. He whirled around, wondering why they were here, of all places, when he saw the four boys walk past. He didn’t have to ask; he just knew, suddenly, why this place haunted MacGyver. He saw the kids play with the gun, and he wanted to shout, to tell them to stop that! Even though he knew this was just a memory, he needed to stop this. One of the boys, Jesse, that’s right, it was Jesse, lifted the gun, aiming at a bird. “No!” another boy shouted, knocking the weapon out of his hands. The gun struck the ground and fired. “No!” And they were in Charlie’s bedroom again. “If you had known, remembered what had happened to me and my friend, why I hate guns,” MacGyver whispered. “I can’t change the past,” Jack told him, aware of that truth that had taken him so long to accept himself. “Yes, I wish I wasn’t so goddamn stupid that day. I wish to God things were different. But it won’t make a bit a difference.” “I could forget all this,” MacGyver murmured absently, walking around the room, picking up a framed picture off of the dresser. “You won’t be able to forget,” Jack told him. “Besides, there were good things too.” “Like when Charlie’s little league team won the series that year,” MacGyver put the picture down and turned to face Jack. He grinned. “Kid was so damn proud. Hell, I was damn proud of him.” “I…we have another son.” “Pete told me.” “This was what I wanted, you know. To retire, settle down, have a family.” “You’re almost convinced,” Jack decided, looking into his own face, into MacGyver’s troubled eyes. “Daniel.” “Wondered when you were gonna bring that up,” Jack said and turned away. He ended up walking into the bedroom of his current house. Damn, this whole room-changing thing was getting him dizzy. MacGyver sat on the bed, running one hand along the bedspread. He clenched his fingers in the fabric, and Jack could feel the memory. “What is this, Jack?” Daniel asked, crossing his arms across the chest and looking up at Jack from under those eyelashes. “You’ve hardly spoken to me in days, and now I’m suddenly invited over for a beer like nothing’s wrong?” How could he tell him? Jack wasn’t even sure of it himself. He just knew that he ached for Daniel, like an itch he couldn’t scratch on his own. At first he had discounted the desire, pushing it away and trying to concentrate on Daniel as co-worker and friend. But when friendship started to turn into something more… It was like this when he fell for Sara, a slow burn that started as sexual attraction and was kindled into something more. He couldn’t tell Daniel that; he couldn’t talk about things like that. So he did what he’d been fantasizing for months: grasped Daniel by the shoulders and planted a wet, sloppy kiss right on his lips. Well, kind of, he missed and hit Daniel’s chin straight on. Then when he pulled away, he tripped on a bit of throw rug behind him and fell on his ass. Daniel tried to hide his grin but couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling up. Soon he was chortling as he reached down to help Jack up. Well, if the man was going to be that obvious, Jack was just going to pull him down on the floor with him. “You could have told me,” Daniel all but giggled into his neck. “I couldn’t,” Jack tried to explain, reaching up to kiss Daniel again. This time was different. Their mouths met, and Daniel parted his lips, inviting Jack inside. He didn’t know how sweet it would taste, kissing another man like this. Daniel was all angles and edges, pressing him down into the rug with his urgent lips. Jack gave into his impulses, reaching up to run his fingers in Daniel’s thick hair, pressing the other man against him. Daniel returned the favor, and it seemed as if he was trying to climb inside Jack. Jack remembered that night fondly, as they tumbled into the bedroom, gently undressing each other. He got to explore Daniel’s body, to caress and tease him into pleasure, and then lay back and let Daniel do the same for him. “I love him,” Jack told MacGyver simply, the one thing he could admit to himself, in his own head, that he couldn’t say out loud. MacGyver started to speak, then stopped. “You do, don’t you? We do…” He seemed almost surprised. “And you have a life with him. I’ve never had that with anyone…Let’s do this, then.” “It doesn’t bother you? That he’s a man? Took me a while to get over it!” MacGyver stood, “So why should I waste any more time trying to ‘get over it’?” Jack met his double’s eyes and nodded. He stepped forward, reaching out with his hands until they touched warm shoulders. MacGyver wrapped his own arms around Jack, and he found himself falling into darkness and light. *** “Dan’l?” Daniel snapped out of the half-doze he was in. “Jack? Jack!” He got to his feet, the files in his lap falling to the infirmary floor. “Sam! Janet! He’s waking up!” It had been hours since Sam had tried her drug/machine combo. Janet had reported that Jack had dropped into a heavy REM state. All they could do was wait for him to wake up, and now, it seemed, he had. Janet stepped in the room, moving to Jack’s bedside with her penlight in hand. “God, doc.” Jack tried to push her hand away. “Jack!” Daniel couldn’t help but say again. Jack turned to him, and his eyes softened. “Sort of,” he sighed. “Sort of?” he echoed. Sam entered, finally, with Anise just behind her, holding the control panel for the memory device. “How are you feeling, sir?” Sam asked, leaning over to touch the tiny circle tab on Jack’s temple. “That’s an interesting question.” Jack tried to sit up, and Daniel moved to help him. “I think what she’s trying to find out is whether you’re Jack or MacGyver,” Daniel added. “Both.” “Both?” Daniel and Sam said at the same time. “It would appear that Major Carter’s theory was correct,” Anise broke in, her deep voice breaking into their moment. “The memory device in combination with the course of drugs developed by the Tauri known as Von Schmidt appears to have resulted in an integrated personality matrix.” “Yeah, thanks for stating the obvious,” Jack snapped with an incredulous look on his face. He turned to Daniel. “Who invited her?” “Everyone out!” Janet cried. “I want to examine Colonel O’Neill. You can all wait in the briefing room for updates!” Daniel allowed himself to be ushered out of the infirmary, but he hung around the hallway anyway, alternately crossing his arms and letting them swing free as he paced. Jack’s words hadn’t reassured him; in fact they had worried him. A shiver ran down his spine as he realized he had lived this before, had seen Sha’re’s body taken over by another’s will, another personality. Stop it, he told himself, this was different. Jack still lived, still reigned in his own mind. This was more like him becoming Tok’ra, not taken over by a Goa’uld. Just like Jacob taking on Selmak to save his life. Even so, Jack was no longer the Jack he had known and loved for the past few years. What did that mean for their relationship, everything they had worked to build for the past six months? Would this MacGyver honor their past? Or would he deny Daniel? “Daniel Jackson,” Teal’c’s warm tones distracted him from his musings. “Oh, hi Teal’c.” He stopped his incessant pacing. “I had heard O’Neill was conscious,” Teal’c stated. He gazed at Daniel, his dark eyes penetrating. Daniel found he had to look away. “Yeah, but Janet wanted to take a look at him. There’s going to be a briefing as soon as she’s done.” “We should be grateful he was returned to us,” Teal’c said with his usual insight. Dammit, he was right, Daniel thought. Here he was, worried about their relationship, when he should just be happy Jack was alive and sane. Janet chose that moment to exit through the infirmary door, holding a clipboard in one hand. She raised an eyebrow at them both, and Daniel lowered his eyes guiltily. “How’s he doing?” She shrugged. “He’s a bit overwhelmed at the moment. I’ll discuss it at the briefing. Come on.” *** Janet stood in front of the projector screen, aware that every face in the room was intent on what she was about to say. Good thing she didn’t suffer from stage fright. When General Hammond gave her the nod, she began. “Thank you for your attention. Colonel O’Neill’s vital signs are completely stable. He’s recognized me and responds to basic facts about the SGC. He also claims to have all the memories of Angus MacGyver.” “So the machine worked,” Daniel put in, playing with a pencil on the briefing table. “It wouldn’t have without the drugs which altered his brain chemistry,” Sam pointed out. Dr. Higgens picked up her folder and frowned. “Speaking of that, what exactly is going to happen to Dr. Schmidt and his research?” Hammond took over. “Dr. Schmidt’s research will be destroyed and all ties to Project Mnemosyne severed. This will not be done to anyone ever again.” “With all due respect sir, how can you be sure of that?” “We can ensure it,” Pete Thornton broke in. “Project Mnemosyne was a partnership between the Phoenix Foundation and the Air Force. The people involved in the deception will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. I won’t let this happen to anyone else.” Hammond nodded. “General Jumper at the Pentagon has also given me his assurances.” “He’s your friend?” Daniel asked. “The one who told you about this damn project in the first place!” “It was something left over from the cold war, Dr. Jackson,” Hammond tried to explain. “Jack O’Neill merely got lost in the ensuing years.” “What’s going to happen to him now?” Daniel asked, taking the time to meet everyone’s eyes across the table. He wanted them all to know what had been done to Jack. “I mean, you’re all saying it’s over, that the research won’t be used again, and t-that’s all fine and good. But what about Jack? What about his life?” *** Epilogue “The temple we saw on the UAV is just over that rise there,” Daniel pointed to the gently cresting hill in the distance. “I could check it out while Sam takes her samples, uh, Jack?” Jack sighed, adjusting the strap on his P90. Daniel always sounded unsure now when he said Jack’s name, as if he couldn’t depend on Jack to respond. He couldn’t blame the other man; hell, he was slightly shaky on the fact of his own identity himself. Teal’c had put his finger on the problem when Jack had entered the briefing room just that morning. “Welcome back, MacGyver-O’Neill,” he had intoned with his usual equanimity. Jack had taken a month’s worth of leave, trying to put back together the pieces of his lives. He had spent most of that time alone, except for basking in the pleasure of having Pete as a friend again. It had been good to catch up with him and debate the wisdom of contacting his older son. He hadn’t called Sam Malloy yet, but the phone number Pete had procured glared at him from its place of honor on his fridge. Jack had cringed at Teal’c’s effort to get his name right. “Um, just O’Neill, T, please.” “Well, now, isn’t that what we’re here to determine?” Hammond had asked, as he sat at the head of the briefing room table. Carter and Daniel had taken their seats as well, since Hammond’s presence had signified the beginning of the meeting. Jack had tried to meet Daniel’s eyes across the table, but found his lover wouldn’t quite look at him. He had frowned, he had hoped for Daniel’s support at this briefing. “It should be a short meeting then,” Jack had quipped. “I’m still me.” Hammond had just looked at him, and Jack had looked away, not willing to see the truth that was there. Fortunately that remark seemed to have gotten a smile out of Daniel, always a good thing. “We have a lot of material to cover, Colonel,” Hammond had begun, opening up the folder in front of him. “Frankly my superiors need to be convinced you can resume your duties as commander of SG-1.” “If I could do it before, I can do it now,” he had protested. “Nothing has changed.” “Nothing? I’d say having the first 40 years of your life wiped out and re-written is something,” Daniel had put in softly. Jack had shrugged. “Then I’m even more qualified. I’ve done sensitive missions for the government; I have degrees in Physics and Chemistry. Hell, I’m twice the man you had before.” “There is the matter of you having never actually attended the Air Force Academy,” Hammond had pointed out. Ok, now that was a big one. “I have all the knowledge they programmed into me. You know this; I passed all the qualifying tests you asked me to take. If the charade’s lasted this long, no one will question it now.” “Speaking of that,” Carter had interrupted the standoff, much to his relief, “I’m curious why the effect hadn’t worn off sooner. Especially with the number of times your brain has been scrambled one way or another…” “Oh, it did. Break down, I mean,” he had said, aware that all eyes were on him. “When I had the Ancient’s knowledge downloaded into my brain. I just couldn’t tell anyone about it. When the Asgard fixed me up, they put me together exactly as I was before, overlay personality and all.” “Which is why it lasted until you met Jack Dalton,” Daniel had guessed. “I think it could have held through that, Daniel, it was when Pete came over that it really started to get weird.” Jack had rubbed his forehead tiredly. “Just don’t ask me to explain it.” “Are you experiencing any head pain, O’Neill?” Teal’c had asked. “No, I’m just sick of all these questions. Fraiser cleared me. I passed the tests. What exactly is the problem here?” Hammond had closed his folder. “PG5-238 is on the mission schedule. MALP reports show an uninhabited planet with a temperate climate and one set of ruins.” “Sounds like fun, sir.” “You get one chance, Jack.” Hammond had looked at him. “I can’t put SG-1, this base or this world in danger.” “Understood.” Unfortunately he hadn’t gotten the chance to square things with Daniel before they went through the gate. He hoped he had convinced Hammond that he was the same old Jack O’Neill, with bonuses. This milk run of a mission would be his one test and best chance to prove that. “Ok,” he said now, “Teal’c, you’re with Carter. Daniel and I will check out the temple. Check in every twenty minutes, ok?” Daniel just gave him a sideways look, then started walking towards the rise. Jack nodded to Carter and Teal’c before following the archaeologist. “So, ah, what do you think you’re gonna find in there?” He tried starting a conversation, painfully aware of how awkward that sounded. Working with Daniel on SG-1 was one thing, but he wasn’t sure himself where exactly they stood. He knew he wanted to resume their relationship, but he wasn’t sure if Daniel did. Daniel shrugged. “The structure doesn’t appear specific to any one culture, so until I get closer I-I’ve no way of telling. Unless you have any insights, or if, rather, MacGyver does.” “Same person, Daniel.” “I’ve heard you’ve been on a few archaeological digs, Jack.” There was something light in Daniel’s voice, and he was glad to hear it. “A few,” he admitted. “But don’t you dare tell anyone else.” Daniel quirked a grin at him, and Jack smiled back in relief. The temple came into view, and Daniel was right, it didn’t look unique in any way. In fact, it was a sort of stout, square-ish structure, covered with overgrown leaves and ivy. His mind supplied the name of some of the plants, and he recalled once how he had used the sap of something similar to create tranquilizer darts. He smiled to himself, fondly remembering Harry, his grandfather, who always seemed to get brought into another of Jack’s messes. Shaking his head, he focused on the temple again. The closer they got, the easier it was to make out some bronze colored stone underneath the greenery. “Let me check it out first.” He stopped Daniel at the doorway. Daniel didn’t protest, though he followed at Jack’s back. The light on his P90 glanced off of the dim interior of the structure, revealing stone walls with carvings visible under the dust and overgrowth of plants even inside. In the direct center stood a slightly raised circular dais, which looked ominously empty. Each corner was decorated with a tall vase and a sconce in the wall, though any torches must have long since rotted away. “Is it clear?” Daniel asked at his ear, and Jack fought back the shudder at feeling that warm breath on his neck. “No giant spiders in the corner, it’s clear,” he shot back. “Giant spiders?” Daniel asked absently, moving to the long wall in the back, where the most writing was visible under the ivy. “What B-movies have you been watching?” Jack grinned, and his radio clicked into action. After a bit of static, he heard Carter’s garbled voice. “-k in, Sir.” He hit the button. “Carter, you’re coming in fuzzy.” Maybe the temple was causing the static, he thought, heading for the entrance for better reception. As he walked there was a definite click as his foot grazed something on the floor. “Crap,” he muttered, stilling. “Jack.” Daniel whirled from his work and met his eyes. Great, a booby-trap, how cliché, he thought absently, trying not to move. Maybe they could put something heavy on the trigger…But the rumbling had already started. Damn, triggered ‘on’ not ‘off.’ He leapt at Daniel, tumbling the younger man to the hard ground as the entire temple shook. Rocks slid from the roof, covering the entrance and engulfing them in darkness. He held on to Daniel until the movement subsided. “You ok?” he whispered, using his hands to check out the younger man. “You’re heavy, Jack,” Daniel grunted. Jack smiled in the darkness and leaned down as if to kiss the other man. Daniel pushed him away. “Find our flashlights,” he muttered. Ok, kissing a bad idea at the moment. Jack rolled off of him, flicking his radio. “O’Neill to Carter, come in.” Static. “Teal’c?” More static. “Great.” Daniel had found his flashlight and was shining it at his face. “Got one.” Jack picked up his gun and tapped the light; it appeared to be out. He frowned at it, contemplating trying to fix it, before remembering he had an extra light in his pack. “I’ll work on these walls, Jack, maybe there’s another doorway hidden under here,” Daniel said from across the room. Jack flicked on his extra light. “I’d say there might be another room or something. This room looks much too small compared to how this place looked from outside.” He moved towards the entrance, wanting to check out how bad the rockslide was, when he stopped, nearly tripping on the dais in the center. Something glittered around the base when his light hit it, and Jack kneeled, wincing at the sudden pain that shot up one leg. He ran his finger along the writing and frowned. This looked familiar. “Flamma,” he tried. “Dilucesco, inlumino.” “Wha…?” Daniel began just as a bright light appeared, hovering in the center of the little alter, illuminating the rest of the chamber. “What did you do, Jack?” Daniel made his way over to the dais, and Jack frowned at the way he was limping. “Did you hurt yourself, Daniel?” He shrugged. “When you knocked me over, I think I twisted my ankle.” “Crap. Sit down and let me look at it.” Jack grabbed his arm and helped Daniel down to the floor. “But what did you do, Jack?” Daniel protested, trying to look past Jack and at the platform. Jack pulled up Daniel’s pants leg. “The writing on the circle, it’s the same as that of the Ancients. I remembered that it’s similar to Latin and I was able to remember enough of the language to figure out what the word for ‘light’ was.” Daniel winced as he probed at the ankle. “It looks like you sprained it. Want some Advil for the pain?” “Jack, I’m fine…” “Daniel.” “Fine, give me the pill.” Jack grinned and went fiddling in his pack for the drugs. He went still as Daniel said quietly, “You’re different.” “I’m still me,” he protested, handing over the pill and his canteen. Daniel swallowed the pill, gazing at the canteen thoughtfully. “Are you sure about that?” Trust Daniel to not pull any punches here. “Daniel,” he said. “Jack.” Daniel looked up at him, handing back the canteen. “I came by your house a few times…” That surprised Jack. “You didn’t ring the doorbell?” “I knew you needed time. But I wanted to see that you were ok.” “Oh. Um, thanks, you know.” Jack sighed, running a dirty hand through his hair. Daniel smiled, “You certainly haven’t gotten any more eloquent.” Jack shrugged. “I keep telling you I haven’t changed. I’m just more me, now.” “You know my brain’s been scrambled a few times too,” Daniel said, after a moment of silence. “Want to share, Jack?” Jack looked away, not sure exactly how to explain. “It’s all in my head, Daniel. I kept having to figure out what was real and what wasn’t. How much was programmed into me and what was just me. And then I had to push down all those things that weren’t Jack O’Neill so Hammond wouldn’t think I’d gone nuts when I came back to work.” “So you got rid of MacGyver?” Daniel’s voice was puzzled, as if he was honestly trying to understand. “Like I said, I am MacGyver.” Jack gestured with one hand, touching his chest. “Except for the past fifteen years, that’s who I am. It’s what I remember. Everything is so clear now, so sharp.” He clenched his hand in a fist and turned away, settling his gaze on the odd script along the base of the lit altar. “And I have to live with the things Jack O’Neill has done.” Daniel was quiet, and Jack figured he had probably shocked him into silence. He couldn’t explain to Daniel exactly the process that led him to his point, letting him be the man Daniel had fallen for. They weren’t ready to approach that problem, if Daniel was just getting his head wrapped around the fact that Jack had lived another man’s life. “How’s the ankle?” he asked suddenly, retreating from the topic, and not able to face Daniel’s silence. “Um, it’s a bit better, t-thank you. Maybe I should get back to work?” Daniel moved as if to stand. “We, Daniel, we should get back to work.” Jack moved to help him up, supporting Daniel’s right arm. “You think if I said ‘back door’ in Latin it’d open one up?” Daniel chuckled weakly. He limped over to the dais and frowned. “This is obviously some kind of Ancients’ technology, but it doesn’t match the writing on the wall.” “Maybe the walls were built around the circle thingie,” Jack suggested thoughtfully. “A local population, worshipping something alien? We’ve seen it before on Earth.” Daniel shook his head, “But what about the light function? Why make it light up unless there was a dark room in the first place? And what did you trigger to cause the rockslide? Maybe there’s a symbol with a clue.” He limped around the circular dais, his brow furrowed. That was his ‘don’t bother me, I’m working’ look, and Jack stepped back, allowing Daniel to do his thing. “Choose? Make a choice? It’s saying something about making the right decision. Of course, without any references or notes, I’m just guessing. This isn’t like reading regular Latin….” Jack looked up, eyes alighting on one of the four vases in the corners. “Hey, Daniel, what about those vases?” Daniel looked up from his perusal. “Huh?” “Don’t they look like they could just fit on that thing?” He walked over to one and ran his hands over the surface, cleaning off centuries of dust. “Hey, there’re symbols on this one.” “Let me see.” Daniel rushed to his side. He pulled a brush from his pocket and began cleaning the front of the tall vase. “Jack, this is a gate address.” “Well, what do you know? Let’s see what the others say.” He stopped to grab a free brush from Daniel’s kit on the floor before working on the vase in the opposite corner. Finally, after a few moments of working together, he and Daniel had uncovered the surface of each container. “They all have different addresses.” Daniel frowned. “This has to be the choice we must make.” “Do you recognize any of them?” Jack asked, curious. “Hmm.” Daniel limped back to his pack and pulled out one of his journals. “I keep a record of addresses that might come in handy…” Jack waited while Daniel paged through the well-worn volume. “Of course!” Daniel murmured. “Hmm?” Daniel pointed to one of the vases. “This is the planet where you got the knowledge of the Ancients.” “Ah, yes, fun.” Jack frowned. “You think that’s the one?” Daniel frowned. “Well, it is the language of the Ancients, right?” “But you don’t recognize the other addresses?” Jack asked. “No.” “But you really think that’s the one?” “Yes.” ‘Trust me,’ were the unspoken words. And Jack had to trust him now, showing that he did value and depend on Daniel’s expertise. They were re-building their relationship, brick by brick, and hopefully the foundation would be just as strong as it was before. “Ok, let’s get this puppy up there.” Jack bent to pick up the indicated vase. It wasn’t that heavy, though there was definitely something inside it. He set it carefully on the center of the little altar, dampening the light just a bit. He stepped back warily; making sure Daniel was behind him. Nothing happened. Daniel sniffed in the dusty chamber.
“Well, I guess that wasn’t the right one…” Jack shook his head, glancing at the walls. “No, it is a choice…Daniel, those sconces, they must have once held torches, right? One over each vase?” “Jack… that’s it.” Jack looked for his pack, then sorted through it until he found what he was looking for: a book of matches, always handy to have. He lit one and tossed it inside the vase. With a roar, the flame caught and rose into the air, causing Jack to jump back and shield his eyes. There was a rumbling noise, and he was certain the walls were going to come in on them. “Jack!” Daniel called, and he turned around and watched as part of the back wall slid open. “Sweet,” he murmured. “Get your pack, Daniel, we’re out of here.” “Let me tape this room first.” Daniel picked up his video camera and frowned. “On second thought, never mind, the lens is busted.” “Yeah, I’d like to get moving before the fire eats up all the air.” Jack hefted his pack on one shoulder and moved to grab Daniel’s. “I can carry it myself, Jack, the ankle’s not that bad.” Despite his words, Daniel leaned on Jack as they walked through the door, the light from his flashlight lighting up the stairway beyond the chamber. It seemed to go on for a while, so they took each step carefully. No need to rush this and make Daniel’s leg worse, or risk falling into who knows what. “So,” Daniel began, and Jack knew he was in trouble. There was nothing on the walls to distract the archaeologist, so he was persisting in his second favorite subject of choice. “What did you mean back there? That you had to live with the things Jack’s done?” He shrugged with his free arm. “Special ops,” he explained breezily. Daniel nodded. “And killing my son,” Jack murmured. Daniel stopped moving and Jack almost fell in mid step. “Jack! It wasn’t your fault!” He stepped back up to Daniel’s side. “I know that if I had been the man I should have been, I never would have had a gun in the house, never mind leave it in a place where he could find it…” Daniel reached out and touched Jack’s cheek, running a finger along his jaw. “Is this what you did for the past month? Berate yourself for past sins?” “Daniel,” he whispered, closing his eyes at the caress. “Am I one of them?” “Huh?” he asked stupidly, snapping his eyes open to try to read the expression on Daniel’s face. “Am I one of the sins of your past? A thing you have to live with.” “What kind of question is that?” Jack asked angrily, gripping Daniel’s shoulders tightly. Daniel half shrugged. “I don’t think it’s an unreasonable one. I mean, I don’t know MacGyver, who he was, what kind of hang-ups against homosexual relationships he may have had in the past…” “Stop that. Stop talking about MacGyver like he’s a different person.” “Why not? Just before you spoke about Jack O’Neill that way.” Daniel did have a point. “Daniel.” “Jack. Do you know who you are?” “Goddammit,” he swore, cupping Daniel’s face between his hands as he leaned forward and pressed their lips together. Daniel grunted; then opened his lips and Jack sucked at the bottom lip before pushing his tongue inside. If he didn’t know who he was, at least Jack could be sure of how he felt. Daniel moaned and pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against Jack’s. “Um.” Jack chuckled. “Yeah, same here.” “Jack, that doesn’t answer the question,” Daniel said, and then sneezed. “I know.” He adjusted Daniel’s glasses fondly, and then took his arm again. “C’mon, we have to get out of here.” Daniel focused the light back on the stairs, and they resumed their trek, making careful time along the dirty and broken steps. They only stumbled once, when the stone crumbled beneath their feet. But Jack got his footing back quickly, and Daniel hung on tightly, nearly losing the flashlight. Finally, the steps ended in a narrow room, once again covered with writing along the walls. Daniel shone the light on the writing, looking puzzled as they walked. They followed the passageway to a dead end. “Dammit,” Jack murmured. “I’ll work on the translating,” Daniel said absently, going back to where the writing began. Jack pulled out his own light. The dead end looked like just another of the walls with that strange writing over it. He looked closer and noticed something odd. “Daniel, can I borrow one of your brushes?” “Hmm?” The archaeologist made his way to the back of the room and handed him the large one. “What is it?” Jack brushed some of the much away. “Do you see this? It looks like the Ancients writing, under this pictographic writing.” Daniel nodded. “Yeah, I noticed that. That’s actually common, when one culture supplants another.” “So we’re dealing with two different cultures here?” “But I’m pretty sure it’s just the technology of the Ancients. Like the Goa’uld, they’ve borrowed things without necessarily understanding how it worked.” Daniel pushed up his glasses and looked at the writing thoughtfully. “I still haven’t had any luck with the second script however.” Jack ran his fingers along the wall and paused. “Daniel, this is a door.” “What?” “Feel the tiny imperfections here.” He took Daniel’s hand in his and guiding the fingers along the crevice he had found. “How do we open it? I don’t see any vases here.” Jack followed the crevice around the wall, trying to figure out how exactly the door worked. “Well, you can’t read how, since the original script is all but obliterated under this graffiti. If I’m understanding this correctly, this door opens upwards, kind of like a garage door…” “And?” Daniel stepped back, just watching Jack for the moment. “I’m going to need you to be my light.” Jack pulled off his pack and began pulling items out. “What are you doing, Jack?” Daniel knelt next to him. “I’m going to create a controlled explosion, enough to maybe lift that door a few inches.” Jack pulled the strap from his gun over his head and began stripping down the P90. “I didn’t think you carried any C4 in your pack,” Daniel teased. “I need a controlled explosion…” Jack murmured. “And I need some kind of a lever…” He moved busily to work, ignoring Daniel who did as requested and kept the flashlight directed where Jack needed it. First he grabbed the Swiss Army Knife he had added to his kit along with the standard issue survival knife. He selected one of the blades on it, setting it to one side. Then he cautiously pulled out several bullets. “Daniel, can you get me some large rocks? Maybe from some of the broken steps? I can hold the light…” Jack barely noticed when Daniel returned; he was so intent on his work. He merely took the largest rock and used it as a base to slice open several of the bullets, carefully extracting the gunpowder. “Jack, uh, what are you doing?” Daniel asked softly from his perch over Jack’s shoulder. “Getting us the hell out of here,” Jack responded absently. “You do realize you’ve taken apart your gun?” Jack looked up. “I don’t have anything else long enough to act as a lever and I needed two…hey, can I have your radio?” “Huh?” “I’m going to need some spare parts…” He continued working absently; tearing out strips of duct tape from his pack. When Daniel handed over his radio, Jack quickly pulled out the screwdriver attachment on his knife and opened it up. He was aware of Daniel watching him as he set up the contraption at the base of the door, making sure the edges of the gun, er, lever, were wedged as far under the edge as he could possibly get them. “Take cover,” he told Daniel, lighting the match. Jack ran to Daniel’s side and covered the man with his body as the explosion rocked the cavern. It had worked just as he had hoped. The force of the explosion had pushed the levers upwards, lifting the door a few inches. The heavy rocks he had put into place, kept that door from falling back. And light shone from the space between the door and the floor. “You ok?” he asked Daniel, easing his weight off the younger man. “Yeah.” Daniel nodded, coughing slightly. Jack took him at his word and then went to test the door. If he pulled with all his strength, he could nudge it a few more precious inches higher, enough for Daniel to squeeze underneath. He turned around, not surprised to find Daniel right behind him. “You go first, then hold the door for me, ok?” They pushed the packs through first -- or rather what was left of them after Jack had done his MacGyver routine. Then he made sure Daniel was out. He heard the younger man gasp from the other side of the wall and frowned. “Hurry up, Daniel!” Daniel pulled on the wall and Jack slid across the floor, it was a tight squeeze no matter which way he tried it. Once on the other side, he sat up and laughed. They had come out on the other side of the hill overlooking the Stargate. Turning, he saw that the outside of the door was covered with tall grasses; no way to tell it was anything but part of the hill. He grabbed his own, still intact radio.
“Carter?” he barked into it. Her voice sounded relieved over the radio. “Colonel! Teal’c and I are at the rockslide! Where are you?” “In front of the Stargate. We found a backdoor.” *** Carter and Teal’c joined them in front of the Stargate, looking a bit frazzled. “We were about to go back to the SGC for help,” Carter explained. “Especially when you didn’t answer on the radio.” “There must be something about the temple that messes up radio waves,” Daniel mused. “But I never heard of Ancients’ technology doing that…” Jack forestalled Carter with a hand. “Yeah, I know, valuable stuff, yadda yadda. We’ll see if we can get a team out here to prop that back door open and check out the stuff inside.” “Thanks, Jack,” Daniel said, then moved to dial up the gate. “Sir, your pack? Your P90?” Carter asked. Jack just smiled at her. “The use of ordinary objects in military field operations, Major.” “Of course, sir.” “Jack!” Daniel’s voice caught his attention, and he realized the Stargate was dialing in. “In the forest, take cover, now!” They watched from behind greenery as the Stargate opened and spit out Jaffa, more Jaffa than they could hope to fight through. Jack counted at least 50 and cursed under his breath. Especially when the group looked like they were setting up camp. He signaled his team to follow him deeper into the forest. “Teal’c,” he whispered, “what do you think?” Teal’c inclined his head. “It appears to be a survey party. The Goa’uld will often send out parties of Jaffa to find new planets to conquer or mine.” “And tests show this planet is high in Naquada, sir," Sam broke in. “So, they’ll be in for the long haul,” Jack mused. “How long do we have before they try a sweep of the forest?” “It would be standard protocol before they retire for the evening.” Hmmm. That gave them some time. He needed to review their options and what they had on hand. Jack looked around -- trees, plenty of trees. A plan began to crystallize in his mind. He turned to Sam, who was giving him the strangest look. “Carter, give me your P90.” “Sir?” she cocked her head to one side. “C’mon, Carter, I took mine apart in the temple. I’ll need yours for my plan…” “What are you planning?” she asked. Ah, that was his Carter, never able to pass up knowledge. “MacGyver-land,” he said with a grin. *** Jack put his team to work. Sam he had set up the P90, since she seemed to want to hang on to her side arm so much. She had perked up when he described what he had wanted her to do. “I can calibrate my radio to act as a long range remote. That way we can spring the device from far enough away that we won’t need to give away our position,” she said absently, regarding his careful setup of the weapon on a branch, with twigs and duct tape providing the stabilizing force. He just needed her to figure out a way to cause it to fire from a distance. “Great idea, Carter. Carry on, Major.” Teal’c gathered heavy logs throughout the forest, while Jack showed Daniel what he wanted to do. “You still keep string in your pack, right?” “Um, yeah,” Daniel went fishing for it. He showed Daniel where he wanted the string set up and took the grenades to set up himself. Jack went to find Teal’c to see how the Jaffa had gotten along with his task. “Teal’c, how’s it going?” Teal’c eyed him suspiciously. “You will not dismantle my staff weapon, O’Neill.” “Geez, Teal’c, I had no intention of doing that.” Yet. “Besides, we’re going to need some cover on our way outa here. Just wanna check up on those logs you brought over…” There was little similarity between this
obstacle course and ‘MacGyver-land,’ the one he had created to help train
Phoenix operatives. This little maze was meant to maximize damage, to
keep the enemy Jaffa occupied for as long as possible. And, Jack thought
as he showed Teal’c how he wanted the grenades set up, maybe confuse them
enough to think they were dealing with more than just four people. He and Carter circled around, carefully avoiding the traps set by he and Teal’c, until they moved into a position directly across from the Stargate. From here they had a good view of where Daniel and Teal’c would make their approach. Jack waited until they were in position, Teal’c signaling them subtly from across the clearing. He nodded at Carter. “Now.” She pushed the button on the remote, causing the jury-rigged P90 to fire a burst of bullets. The Jaffa looked around for the sound and one of them, probably the leader, shouted ‘kree!’ Just as planned, the first group entered the forest. The explosions they triggered showed that they lacked imagination and sent more of their fellow warriors in after them. They ran right into the first set up, a string set at chest height which would trigger a conveniently placed grenade. The Jaffa that followed set off the traps along the way, causing logs to fall on them or explosions to blast the bases of trees, which would came tumbling down. All in all, it caused chaos, since the Jaffa could not predict where the next attack would be coming from. Jack began counting, waiting until the numbers dwindled enough for them to make a break for it. So far, so good, he decided, readying his ‘zat and heading into the clearing, Carter at his side. The remaining Jaffa had their attention divided between them and the forest, the distraction giving Teal’c and Daniel time to run out and dial the DHD. Jack kept firing and moving, trying to keep himself from being a target. He fired twice when he had to, avoiding the third disintegrating shot because there simply wasn’t enough time. One Jaffa would go down, and he was ready and aiming at the other that had come to take his place. Teal’c stood guard in front of Daniel, covering them long enough for Daniel to dial and enter the GDO code. The Stargate whooshed into existence, and Daniel shouted, “Let’s go!” They ran, firing behind them and dodging staff weapon blasts. Jack was the last one through; he needed to be sure all of his team was safe before he could allow himself to dive through the Stargate. Jack ended up rolling onto the ramp of the Gateroom. “Close the Iris!” “Colonel O’Neill?” Hammond asked as he entered the Gateroom. “What the hell happened?” “Oh, you know sir, just another one of those days…” *** Jack sipped at his ginger ale thoughtfully, sitting back and watching his team interact. He had invited them over to his place for pizza after work, and they all showed up together. He had hoped this wouldn’t turn into a ‘gang up on Jack and ask him questions’ session, but that hope had turned out to be fruitless. First Carter had started in on him, quizzing him about his paper and professional career. He answered her the best he could, saying that he just used what he found. That’s all it had been about really, thinking up new ways to use what was already at hand. The more he thought about it, the more he considered he hadn’t really changed at all. He just found different ways of doing the same thing. He had responded by cornering her about her initial hesitation on the planet. “You were ordered to relieve me of duty if I tried to pull something like that, weren’t you?” Carter had the grace to look embarrassed. “If you became irrational sir.” He shook his head. “Carter…Sam. I am the same, but I’m different too. I can still do this job, but you have to meet me half way. We all worked well before, but we’re going to need some adjustment time.” Teal’c inclined his head. “We are still willing to follow you, O’Neill.” After that, Teal’c had put Star Wars on, so he got some few moments of peace. Teal’c seemed to just understand and had made up his mind to not treat Jack any differently. He appreciated the Jaffa’s silent support. It was funny, he thought, half watching the movie, how things did come full circle. He had never been the type to settle down, and had always surrounded himself with good friends instead of family. Now it seemed he had both in the same package. “Want a beer, Jack?” Daniel asked, returning from the kitchen. Teal’c and Sam had left for the evening, but as usual, Daniel had stayed behind. He shook his head. “Found I don’t really like the taste any more.” “Um, ok. Coffee then?” Daniel dithered in the doorway, as if he didn’t quite want to come into the living room. “Sounds good.” He stood and followed his lover into the kitchen watching him set up the coffee maker. Daniel looked nervous, and he couldn’t blame him. After the intensity of their mission, Daniel would have time to think. Maybe reconsider their relationship. “Daniel?” “Jack,” Daniel paused, then switched on the coffee maker. “What’s bugging you?” Daniel turned around to face him, crossing his arms over his chest. “What isn’t Jack? All during the mission you kept insisting you were you, and then you, you figure out Ancient puzzles, design a Jaffa obstacle course, take apart your gun, and hell, now you don’t even like beer anymore?” He did have a point. “Ok, so maybe I am different, a little. I thought we went over this. You thought it was cool that I was interested in Archaeology…” “I know that because I read MacGyver’s file. How much have you told me yourself?” “I haven’t had the chance to tell you.” “You’ve had an entire month. You’ve been avoiding anything even close to talking about this. I have no idea who you are anymore, Jack. Can I even keep calling you Jack?” “Dammit Daniel,” Jack began, meeting his intense eyes, “don’t you understand? I love you!” Daniel stopped in mid step and shook his head in disbelief. “Um. Wow. Um. I didn’t think…You’ve never said that before.” “What the hell did you think this was, Daniel?” “Jack, think about this, you’re not yourself…” He couldn’t face this one moment longer. Jack turned on his heel and walked away. He was halfway up the ladder to his deck before he realized it. It made sense; this was the place where he had found refuge before. There was nothing like looking up into the universe, gazing into the infinity of space and feel so small and yet, so large at the same time. Funny, this had been something he had enjoyed as MacGyver as well. It wasn’t long before Daniel followed him up, and Jack breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the footsteps on the ladder. He started speaking before Daniel could get far. “I remember sitting up here after you stayed on Abydos the first time. I would look up at the sky and wonder what you were doing. I remember that Daniel.” “Jack.” “I remember when Charlie was born. How we brought him home in a blue blanket my mother knitted. I remember how we buried it with him when he died. And I remember how it felt when I first met Sam Malloy, when I first knew I had a child in the world….That’s when I knew who the fuck I was, Daniel. I had left something important behind. It made all the hard stuff worth it. All the times I had to betray someone or watch a good friend die. I remember everything. And you think I don’t know who I am?” “No, Jack,” Daniel said softly, moving forward to slip his arms around Jack’s waist. “I don’t know who you are. But, I, I want a chance to learn.” Jack turned himself in Daniel’s arms, cupping his lover’s cheek with one hand. “Daniel.” He brushed his lips across Daniel’s, not wanting to push for more before the other man was ready. Daniel opened his mouth, letting Jack in, and he let himself fall into Daniel, letting the world compress into just this moment, just he and Daniel alone on his deck. “Hallo up there!” A familiar voice cut into the moment, and Daniel pulled away with a start. Jack reached out and grabbed his arms. He knew that voice. He released Daniel and moved to lean over the railing. “Dalton, what the hell are you doing here?” “Miss me, Mac?” Jack Dalton waved from the ground before he started climbing the steps. “I suppose it could be worse,” Jack grumbled. “At least you didn’t have to steal all my belongings to get my attention.” Dalton grinned as he made his way on the platform. “It’s good to see you, Mac. With your head screwed on straight.” Jack shook his head and shook Dalton’s hand, patting him hardily on the back. “Well, I don’t know about that. What brings you out here? Just checking up on an old friend?” Dalton didn’t even have the grace to look embarrassed. “It’s really simple Mac, I’m in a bit of trouble.” “No surprise there.” “It involves the Russian mafia and a Golden Retriever…” Dalton stopped when he saw Daniel. “Oh, uh, hey kid.” “Kid?” Daniel repeated. “Daniel, this is Jack Dalton, a childhood friend,” Jack introduced, moving to sling one arm around Daniel’s back. Daniel looked at him, his eyes widening in surprise at the gesture. Jack couldn’t blame him, there was a time he wouldn’t even look at Daniel in public, in case anyone could see in his face how he felt for his lover. “Dalton, this is Daniel Jackson.” “Hey, nicetameetcha, Daniel.” Dalton waved. “Mind if I borrow Mac, I mean, um, Jack for a bit?” “Actually, I do mind.” Daniel folded his arms. Jack raised his eyebrows at him. “If you think you’re just going to take Jack away to deal with whatever problem you’re having…” “I see Mac has been talking about me!” “I’m coming with you.” Daniel finished. Jack started, “Daniel, you…” he stopped when he saw the look on his lover’s face. Yeah, Daniel needed to come with. He needed to be part of MacGyver’s past life. So Jack just grinned and said, “Let’s get the coffee and the travel mugs. This had better be good.” “Sounds like a plan, Jack!” End Go back. |