All publicly recognisable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret Productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognised characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Spoilers for The Curse

Rated PG –13

This story was originally published in Gateways. Many thanks to AJ for allowing me to be part of a vision, and many thanks to Jb for her invaluable beta-reading.

 

Tangled Webs - Another untold tale from the diaries of Dr Daniel Jackson

 

"Have you seen this?" Daniel Jackson marched across Jack's office and threw a brightly coloured magazine on top of the paperwork strewn in front of the colonel. Folding his arms, he positioned himself in front of Jack's desk, radiating a combination of anger and distress.

 

"If that's Fishing Weekly, I already subscribe," Jack replied lightly, trying to switch his brain from the technobabble of Carter's latest science report to the unexpected presence of what was clearly an emotional tornado.

 

Disguising his action by tidying up the papers Daniel's magazine had scattered, Jack took a moment to study his team-mate. With the exception of the reddened skin on his forehead, Daniel looked pale. Behind his glasses dark shadows underlined the weariness in his eyes, and three days growth of facial hair loaned him an unkempt appearance. All in all, he didn't look like somebody Janet would have signed back on duty. Jack fixed Daniel with a stern, yet concerned, gaze. "Aren't you supposed to be in the infirmary?"

 

Daniel dismissed the question with an impatient wave of his hand and a shake of his head. "I'm fine." He grabbed the magazine, flicking through a couple of pages before thrusting it back on the desk, tapping impatiently at the now open page. "Look!"

 

Jack's gaze fell on a double-page spread with the unimaginative headline 'The Curse Strikes Again!'. Lifting the left-hand side of the magazine, he glanced at the cover and shook his head. "Did Teal'c give you this?"

 

"It doesn't matter where I got it from," Daniel snapped. "Just read it."

 

Beneath the headline was an article on Sarah Gardner's disappearance and Steven Rayner's admission to a hospital in Egypt. Jack quickly read through it, wincing at the sensational style and wild assumptions about ghostly mummies and ancient curses but relieved at just how little the journalist actually knew about what had gone on. He closed the magazine and held it out to Daniel. "Could've been a lot worse."

 

"Worse?" Daniel stared at him in amazement. "It says Sarah is dead. Buried under the sand when the tomb collapsed." He made a frustrated gesture with his right hand as Jack continued to hold out the magazine. "You don't get it do you?"

 

Jack shook his head. "What is there to get, Daniel? The paper doesn't mention you or Carter. And the description of Fraiser… well no one is going to recognise her from that. They haven't even spelled her name right. That's good news - it means the official line has been swallowed."

 

"The official line?" Daniel snatched the magazine from Jack's hand, glaring at him. "Sarah's parents have been told their daughter is dead, and you sit here congratulating yourself because the official line is in print?"

 

Oh, so that was what was eating at Daniel. Jack gave a weary sigh. "Come on, Daniel. You know how it works."

 

"I do, do I?" Daniel's tone was belligerent.

 

Oh, here we go, the innocent civilian card. Jack squashed the thought almost as soon as it formed, mentally chiding himself for being uncharitable. It was perfectly natural for Daniel to be upset about what had happened to Sarah Gardner; the two of them had history even if Daniel claimed their relationship had never been smooth. Plus Daniel had just been released from the infirmary after yet another round with a goa'uld ribbon device. How many times did that make? Three?  No, four. What the hell was Fraiser doing letting Daniel loose when he still looked like a refugee from a war zone?

 

Jack pulled in a breath. "We didn't exactly have a lot of options, Daniel. Sarah went missing in the middle of a desert. The tomb collapsing was too good an opportunity…"

 

"What about Steven? He knows the truth."

 

"Not all of it. As far as he knows Sarah attacked him with some weird doohickey. Fraiser convinced him everything else was just the result of an over-active imagination To be honest I think he wants to forget about the whole thing as quickly as possible. Besides, he'd just be branded a nut if he starts running off at the mouth about the pyramids being alien constructions. You proved that to him."

 

Jack winced as the words escaped his mouth. Okay, that probably wasn't the best way of putting it, and he knew he deserved the exasperated noise Daniel made in response.

 

Daniel, however, clearly didn't want to be side-tracked. "That's neither here nor there," he retorted with just a hint of ice in his voice. "The point is…" He gave a frustrated sigh, apparently lost for words, then tried again. "The point is…"

 

"Yes?" Jack promptly carefully.

 

"The point is… Sarah's parents!"

 

Jack frowned, desperately trying to follow Daniel's thought patterns. Sarah's parents? He studied Daniel's face, taking in the expectant look tinged with an all-too-familiar expression of indignation. Any minute now he knew he was going to be on the receiving end of Daniel's exasperated teacher tone. Yep, here it was.

 

"Hope, Jack! I'm talking about hope." Daniel paced away from the desk. "They have a right to know there's still hope, don't they?"

 

"Daniel…"

 

"After all, we got Skaa'ra back." Daniel stated the fact as though it was the ultimate justification for whatever argument he seemed to think he was engaged in.

 

Jack scratched at his head, certain he was missing something vital in their discussion but not able to put his finger on it. "Yes…" he conceded slowly. "But only because of a whole heap of lucky breaks."

 

Another dismissive handwave from Daniel. "But we did get him back. So why not Sarah?"

 

"Daniel," Jack rubbed at his forehead. "What are you trying to say?"

 

"That there's still hope, Jack. Sarah isn't dead. She's out there… somewhere. That it's possible we could get her back. Telling her parents she's dead…"

 

Jack eyebrows raised as Daniel trailed off again. Surely Daniel wasn't suggesting the SGC should tell Sarah's parents the truth? The memory of Daniel rushing off to tell Catherine Langford what he'd discovered about Ernest Littlefield leapt unwelcome into his mind. Almost immediately though he reminded himself that had been different. Catherine already knew about the Stargate, had in fact been the one who recruited Daniel. No, Daniel understood about security. He wouldn't do anything that rash.

 

Realising Daniel was still looking at him, expecting some sort of response, he hastily pulled his thoughts back to the here and now. "You really want her parents to live with that kind of hope - never knowing whether or not she'll return to them?" A hint of impatience edged the sympathy in Jack's voice. "Come on, Daniel. You of all people know what that's like."

 

"Yes. I do." Daniel was growing more agitated. He paced to the wall, his right hand slamming against the rough paintwork to add emphasis to his words. His eyes were overly bright as he turned and held Jack's gaze. "And you know what, Jack? Living with hope - no matter how slim - well… well, it's a whole hell of a lot better than living without it."

 

Jack felt a pang of sympathy at the pain of loss displayed so rawly on his team-mate's face, but before he could speak Daniel continued with brutal determination.

 

"Do we have the right to deny them hope, Jack?" Daniel's eyes hardened. "What we've done… what we're doing, it's just… just…."

 

Momentarily thrown by Daniel's rollercoaster emotions, Jack felt a flutter of unease in the pit of his stomach. "You know you can't tell them anything, Daniel."

 

Daniel shot him a resentful look, making it perfectly clear he considered Jack had just stated the obvious.

 

Jack tried to change tack, uncomfortably aware he'd slid into the role of commanding officer rather than friend, "Look, I know you're upset right now…"

 

"Upset?" Daniel gave a hollow laugh before replying sarcastically, "Why should I be upset? It's just another routine week at the SGC…"

 

"Daniel, please." Jack threw as much appeal into the words as he could and was relieved to see the stiffness in Daniel's shoulders drop a degree. Almost immediately though his relief changed to concern as he saw Daniel sway, what little colour the younger man had draining from his face. Kicking back his chair, Jack was on his feet and half way around the desk before Daniel could react.

 

"It's okay." Daniel held up one hand, warding him off while rubbing at his temple with the other. "Janet warned me…"

 

"I'm taking you back to the infirmary…"

 

"No!" Daniel backed away. "I'm fine. Really. It was just a little dizziness." He gave Jack a brittle-looking smile. "I'll go back if it gets worse."

 

Uncertain whether to insist on Daniel's return to the infirmary, Jack hesitated, and Daniel used the moment to step around him and gather up the magazine.

 

"Daniel." His tone concerned, Jack held out his hand, checking Daniel's escape with the lightest of touches.

 

Daniel shot him an appreciative look. "Really. I'm okay." He tapped the magazine lightly on Jack's arm. "About this… you know I wouldn't…" 

 

"Yes, I know…."

 

"Just got a bit…" He rubbed at his temple again.

 

"I understand… I know you won't…"

 

"Absolutely." Daniel shot Jack another brittle smile. "You can trust me, Jack."

 

Jack nodded. "I know." Standing this close he was aware of how thin Daniel looked. Always slender, the past few days had taken their toll, putting unhealthy hollows in Daniel's cheeks. Jack glanced at his wall clock and saw it was almost one o'clock. "You had lunch?" he asked casually. "I was thinking of heading to the mess."

 

"Not hungry. Late breakfast."

 

"Oh... Well, how about coffee? Just to keep me company."

 

Daniel shuffled his feet. "I'm kinda busy, Jack. Lot to catch up on. You know how it is."

 

"Sure. I know." Jack's gaze drifted to his report-laden desk. "So... err... maybe later, huh?"

 

Daniel was already moving towards the door. "Sure. Later."

 

 *************************

 

Alone in his office, Daniel slumped into his chair and buried his head in his hands. God, what had he been thinking storming in on Jack like that? The colonel would think he was nuts. Was probably on the phone right now to Janet… Daniel groaned at the thought. He was so going to get it from her too. Sweet-talking that nurse into letting him out of the infirmary 'just for a few minutes, half-an-hour tops' had seemed like a good idea at the time. He hadn't meant to go AWOL for any longer; it was just… just he couldn't stand it another minute. All the concerned looks and the whispered conversations between nurses who didn't appreciate just how good his hearing was.

 

Have you heard about Daniel Jackson? Talk about cursed.  You know about his wife, right? And that female goa'uld, Hathor, she raped him you know - right here in the SGC. And what's-her-name - the destroyer of worlds. Linea. Yes, that's the one. She took him to bed and then threatened to kill him. So now, it seems there was an ex-girlfriend…

 

Oh yes, the SGC rumour mill was having a field day. A chance meeting with an ex-girlfriend and what happens? Oh, God. Sarah. Why you?!

 

Daniel pushed his chair back. Folding his arms on his desk, he rested his head against them. He was so tired, so very, very tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of losing. Tired of mourning. Tired of being on the receiving end of everybody's sympathy.

 

And then finding that article… and that photograph of Sarah. How had the journalist got his hands on that? Probably paid someone at the university to find a photo of her - but why that picture? Daniel could remember the moment it was snapped so clearly. They'd been at a party, and Sarah had been begging him to dance, but he hadn't wanted to. He hated dancing, hated feeling on display. So she'd dragged Steven onto the dance floor instead and made a point of flirting with him, draping herself around his neck and whispering into his ear. Something she said had made Steven smile, and then both of them had thrown back their heads roaring with laughter - and flash! A camera had gone off, and the moment had been captured forever - the instant in which Daniel knew from the way his blood had felt like ice that Sarah had been laughing at him.

 

The pain of the moment speared him afresh, bringing back memories of their relationship and the explosive argument that had ended it. He could hear her screaming at him. This is all your fault, Daniel. All your fault.

 

God, his head hurt. Opening his eyes, he reached for the bottle of Tylenol that always sat on his desk. Shaking out two tablets he contemplated them for a moment, wondering if there was any point taking them. He wasn't sure what Janet had been prescribing for him, but it was sure to be something a whole hell of a lot more powerful and effective than a couple of Tylenol. Perhaps he should just go back, face the music and the nurses' sympathy… He physically shuddered at the thought. No. He really couldn't face going back.   

 

Home. The word formed in his mind like a half-forgotten memory. He'd go home. Janet had made it clear he was going to be on sick leave for at least a week, so it wasn't really like going AWOL. He pulled open his desk drawer and retrieved his car keys. Pushing himself to his feet he spent a few minutes shoving books and papers into a backpack. As he gathered up the translation he'd been working on before he'd heard about Professor Jordon's death, his gaze fell on the magazine again - the pang of guilt that assailed him was so real it almost drove the breath from his body. His right hand closed around its gaudy pages, and he shoved it hurriedly into his bag. The seed planted during his conversation with Jack began to send out roots - maybe, just maybe, he could do something to set the balance right.  

 

*************************

 

As Janet Fraiser arrived on duty, the first thing she noted was the absence of Daniel Jackson, but as her gaze swept over the empty bed and the tray of untouched food on the bedside cabinet, she allowed herself a moment of optimism. Hopefully this meant Daniel had summoned up the energy to shower and shave, something she had been encouraging him to do for the past twenty-four hours. Almost instantly, though, her thoughts turned to other aspects of his well-being. If he thought showering was a valid excuse for avoiding the culinary delights of SGC catering… 

 

Striding towards her office, she caught the attention of the on-duty nurse. "Ellen, would you kindly tell Doctor Jackson to get out of the bathroom and eat his lunch before it petrifies into something no longer recognisable as food."

 

The nurse shot her a terrified look. "I'm… sorry, but…" She trailed away, apparently incapable of speaking.

 

"Spit it out, nurse." Janet was instantly authoritative.

 

"Doctor Jackson isn't here, ma'am." The nurse's pale skin turned red with embarrassment. "He asked me if he could just go and get something from his office and… well… I didn't see any harm… but…" 

 

Janet's gaze hardened as she finished off the nurse's sentence. "He hasn't come back, right? When was this?"

 

"About 11:30." The nurse swallowed hard. "I'm really sorry, I've check his office three times, and I was about to call you…"  

 

Janet waved off the apology. "It's not your fault. Doctor Jackson is hardly a candidate for patient of the year." She turned towards the door. "Get an orderly to replace that meal with a plate of sandwiches. I'll be right back with my errant patient."

 

***************************

 

"Gone? What do you mean he's gone?" Jack watched Janet pacing his office, wondering what he'd done to deserve having his peace and quiet shattered twice in one day.

 

Reaching the far wall, Janet turned to face him. "He sweet-talked one of my nurses into letting him go to his office and hasn't been seen since." The angry concern of her voice was reflected on her face.

 

Jack felt his own irritation rise a notch. "He told me he'd been released." He pre-empted her denial with a quick wave of his hand. Damn - Daniel could be a sneaky little bastard when he wanted to. Jack could recall their conversation clearly now. "Sorry. No he didn't actually say that. Actually what he said was that he was fine. I assumed that meant…"

 

"Well it didn't." Janet treated Jack to a blistering glare. "I've checked everywhere. His office. The labs. Sam's office. Teal'c's quarters."

 

"Front gate?"

 

As Janet's expression gave away her omission, Jack reached for his phone. After a brief conversation he banged the receiver down with more force than was necessary.

 

"Daniel left the mountain just after one o'clock." Jack pulled a face, then opened his desk drawer and retrieved his car keys. "Apparently he had time to make small talk with the guard but not to let his friends know he was leaving." He straightened up with a frown. "Let Hammond know what's going on. And tell him I'm already on my way to Daniel's apartment…"

 

"Wait," Janet said quickly. "I need to come with you."

 

Jack raised his eyebrows, not liking the urgency in her tone. "Why? I thought you were just keeping him for observation."

 

Janet looked somewhat abashed. "I was."

 

"But?" Jack felt his stomach flip-flop at her guarded tone.

 

"This is the fourth time Daniel's been a victim of a goa'uld ribbon device. On the face of it, he seems to have made a quick recovery this time, well at least once I got some compazine and fluids into him. The flight back from Egypt wasn't exactly a bundle of fun." She winced, obviously recalling an unpleasant memory. "But I'm concerned there may be unknown after-effects from repeated exposure…"

 

"What kind of after-effects?"

 

Janet gave him a withering look. "If I could answer that they wouldn't be unknown."

 

Jack let the sarcasm pass. "But unknown could mean non-existent right? You don't actually know there are side-effects, right?" He climbed to his feet, reaching for the jacket on the back of his chair. "Just covering your medical backside, Doctor?"

 

Janet bristled. "I nearly lost him to Ammonet, Colonel. You may have forgotten what a close call that was, but…"

 

Jack scrubbed a hand through his hair and reined in his emotions. "Sorry." The apology was quick and genuine. "Of course I haven't forgotten. I'm just as worried about him as you are."

 

Janet nodded, and pulled in a long breath. "So… let's call Hammond. Tell him the situation, and then…."

 

Jack reached for the phone. "Then we can argue over who gets to smack Daniel first when we find him."

 

************************

 

'You can trust me, Jack.'

 

Of course he could. Jack stood in the middle of Daniel's deserted apartment and cursed loudly. Damn right he could trust Daniel. He could trust him to do something stupid, like going AWOL with a scrambled brain. 

 

His heart sinking, Jack did a quick check of the bedroom closet, confirming the absence of half a dozen shirts and various other items of clothing. Daniel's laundry basket, while not empty, didn't contain enough to make up the balance, and the bathroom was lacking both toothbrush and razor. Shit!

 

Moving back to the living room, Jack glanced over to Janet who was rummaging through Daniel's desk. "Looks like he's planning to be gone for a few days. Find anything?"

 

"Nothing except a pile of unopened junk mail and magazines." She gestured towards the phone. "I've checked his messages - nothing out of the ordinary there either."

 

"Damn it." Jack's gaze did a circuit of the room "Where the hell would he go?" He moved to the desk and picked up the mail, hoping he might spot something, but Janet was right. It was nothing but circulars. With a frustrated sigh he tossed the pile back on the desk. "Wait a minute..." A gaudy magazine cover sticking out from an untidy heap of books caught his attention.

 

"Isn't that one of those awful magazines Teal'c has gotten into?" Janet peered at the front cover as Jack held it up to her.

 

"Yeah, it is." Jack tried to ignore the prickle of unease dancing on the back of his neck as he flicked through the pages and laid out the double-page spread Daniel had showed him earlier  "I just hope it's not more awful than it seems."

 

Reading quickly, Janet shook her head. "I don't follow."

 

"I told you Daniel was in my office earlier…"

 

"Yes."

 

"Well he brought this with him. He was pretty upset by it."

 

"And?" Janet prompted.

 

"Your unexpected side-effects theory," Jack said slowly, reluctant to put his suspicion into words. "I don't suppose that might cover not thinking rationally."

 

"I wouldn't rule that out. We know from before, Daniel struggled to come to terms with the memories Ammonet, or rather Sha're, managed to transmit through the ribbon device."

 

Jack winced, remembering his own scepticism at Daniel's insistence Sha're had spoken to him through a vision. More importantly though, he couldn't deny Daniel had been right - it was possible to communicate at least something.

 

"Colonel?" Janet's prompt broke through his thoughts. "What are you thinking?"

 

Jack blew out a long breath, fixing her with a worried look. "I really hope I'm wrong, but I think Daniel might be heading for Sarah's parents. And if he is, we have to stop him before he has a chance to do something he'll regret." 

 

************************

 

Stepping off the domestic flight from Colorado to JFK, Daniel hurried through the arrivals terminal and made his way to international departures, skipping baggage claim due to the fact his clothes were crammed into a small holdall. He glanced round the busy terminal unable to see what he was looking for until a quick word with a passing staff member put him on the right track. Moments later he was standing in front of the ticket desk for Kuwaiti Airlines.

 

To his relief he discovered a memory from his student days had served him well - the little-known airline did fly to the UK, and luck was with him; there was a seat on the next flight out, leaving in less than two hours. Hopefully if the SGC did a check of passenger lists, they'd start with the big American airlines; by the time anyone got round to this one he'd be safely in the UK. Moments later he handed over a large wad of cash and then, ticket in hand, headed for passport control and customs.

 

The international departures area was busy, just as Daniel had hoped. The aroma of coffee lured him straight to Starbucks where he purchased a large espresso. Duly armed he settled in a vacant seat to one side of the concourse and swallowed three more Tylenol along with a large gulp of coffee.

 

He rubbed at his temples, wishing the pain would ease just a fraction. The constant ache was making him feel nauseous, and the pressurised aircraft cabin hadn't helped any. Perhaps this wasn't a good idea. He really wasn't looking forward to the transatlantic flight.

 

So why was he doing it? Daniel shook his head at his own question. Because… damn, he really was having trouble keeping his train of thought what with his throbbing head and the pressing desire to just curl up on this seat and sleep for a week… because he owed it to Sarah. That was right. Somehow he just knew she would've wanted this.

Jack's voice echoed in his head. 'You know you can't tell them anything.' Daniel chewed his bottom lip. Jack was wrong - there was plenty he could tell them. He just needed to choose his words carefully. Sarah had always told him he had a way with words. He'd even written her a poem once, in the early days of their relationship when everything between them had still been simple. In the days before he'd been forced to… Daniel cut off the thought. What was the point of dragging it all up? It was as much ancient history as the tombs they'd worked on together.

 

He had to plan the here and now. Work out what he was going to say to her parents without accidentally letting slip some classified piece of information. And more importantly make sure he got a chance to say it. He glanced at his watch. Chances were the SGC would've noticed his absence by now. And that would mean Jack had probably already thrown a hissy fit on finding the half-empty closet in his apartment. Daniel felt another pang of guilt, this time for Jack. He was going to have some bridges to mend there when this was all over. Perhaps he should just be straight with Jack? He could call - let Jack know he was okay, that he knew what he was doing.  Yeah, right. Jack had already been on the verge of dragging him back to the infirmary - any mention of a trip to England and he probably would've been calling McKenzie. Daniel winced - no, that was unfair. Jack wouldn't go that far - he would however chew a strip off him.

 

Jack, Janet, General Hammond - Daniel groaned - when he got back he'd have to get one of those ticket machines that allowed people to form a line without actually waiting in place. Please take a number - you will be called when it's your turn to vent your annoyance on the archaeologist. And to think Sarah had accused him of never really caring about her…

 

************************

 

"So what have we got?" General Hammond addressed the sombre group sitting around the SGC briefing table.

 

Jack exchanged a quick look with Janet before speaking. "Little more than a hunch, Sir. We found this in Daniel's apartment." He spread the magazine and its offending article out on the desk.

 

"I believe that belongs to me," Teal'c said, leaning closer to inspect the magazine.

 

"Mind telling me what possessed you to give it to Daniel?" Jack couldn't keep his irritation out of his voice.

 

Teal'c's response, however, was calm. "I loaned several copies of the magazine to Daniel Jackson in the hope they would bring him some amusement." He craned his neck further forward and frowned. "This is a recent issue. I was not aware of its content."

 

Jack opened his mouth to make a retort about loaning things out before reading them, but General Hammond interrupted. "Colonel O'Neill, would you kindly explain how this article relates to Doctor Jackson's disappearance?"

 

As Jack did so in quick, concise sentences, Hammond was clearly working through the implications. Cutting across Jack's explanation he jumped ahead. "So you believe Doctor Jackson may be attempting to contact Ms Gardner's parents?"

 

"It's a possibility we can't ignore, sir."

 

Sam Carter leaned forward in her seat, catching the general's attention. "Sir, I took the liberty of checking Daniel's credit cards and bank account just after the colonel and Janet found his apartment empty. He withdrew a considerable amount of cash from his account straight after leaving the SGC."

 

"A considerable amount being?" Hammond asked.

 

"Over four thousand dollars." Sam gave him a meaningful look. "More than enough to travel for quite some time without leaving a credit record behind him."

 

"I see." Hammond considered a moment. "I presume we know where Ms Gardner's parents live."

 

"Scotland, sir." Sam supplied the answer instantly.  But if you're thinking of having him picked up at the airport… well, I wouldn't count on it. If Daniel paid cash for his ticket, it'll take time to track his name on a passenger roster. Plus, if he's figured we might try to stop him he may not take a direct route which would mean alerting security at who knows how many airports." 

 

Jack muttered a curse. "He could leave the US from virtually anywhere."

 

Sam nodded. "And while it's likely he'd fly into London Heathrow, we can't be certain."

 

Jack turned towards Hammond. "So assuming Daniel is heading for the UK and hasn't just holed up in one of the city libraries, in which case I am personally going to…"

 

"Colonel, your point?"

 

"Daniel has a considerable head start over us, sir. I think its time for plan B." 

 

"What are you suggesting, Colonel?"

 

"That you alert airport security both here and in the UK, while we…" His gaze took in Fraiser, Carter and Teal'c. "High-tail it to the Gardners' as quickly as possible."

 

*******************

 

As the plane touched down, Daniel lost the battle he'd been waging with his stomach and deposited his half-digested dinner into one of the paper sacs the airline so thoughtfully provided. Leaning back in his seat, he waved a concerned stewardess away and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the unwelcome feeling of cold sweat on his skin. God, what a flight. Despite being exhausted he'd barely slept more than an hour, the cabin seeming to alternate between too hot and too cold, and the thin pillow providing no comfort for his aching head.

 

As he pulled his bag from the overheard locker, he felt he was in a dream world. Snippets of Arabic pressed through the weary fog, years of familiarity with the language automatically supplying the translation, catching him up in surreal scenarios involving family weddings, visits to Buckingham Palace and business plans.

 

Finally escaping the plane and moving through the arrivals lounge in search of the gate for his connecting flight to Edinburgh, Daniel caught sight of a telephone. He peered uncertainly at his watch - wondering if it was too early to call. He had a feeling Sarah's parents were both retired, but he wasn't sure. If they were, an early morning call was unlikely to be appreciated. If they weren't, this might be his best chance to contact them.

 

Oh to hell with diplomacy - he was too tired to get his head around what was the best thing to do. Daniel dug in his back pocket and produced a diary, several years out of date. He flipped it open with one hand, revealing a page of telephone numbers; with the other hand he picked up the receiver. Wedging the open diary awkwardly between the phone and the wall he shoved his hand into his pocket for change and swore aloud as it occurred to him he didn't have any sterling coins. Almost immediately the diary fell to the ground. Daniel swore louder. Wasn't anything going to go right for him? He felt his temper rise at the unfairness of it all. He just wanted to make a damned phone call! Slamming the receiver down he dug in his pocket for his wallet and produced a five dollar bill. 

 

"Anyone trade me cash for the phone?" He tossed the comment towards a group of approaching travellers but was merely rewarded with suspicious looks.

 

As another group drew near, he tried again, trying to look as appealing as possible. Again he was on the receiving end of half a dozen cold shoulders. "Thank you! Thank you so much!" he called after them, wincing as the strident tone of his own voice interacted painfully with his headache. 

 

Totally frustrated, he shoved the bill back in his wallet and slammed the palm of his hand against the phone. Goddamn it! His gaze fell on the neat little VISA sign buried amongst the 'How to make a call' instructions. Of course! He yanked out his credit card, swiped it through the machine and hurriedly dialled the number. A ringing tone sounded. Once, twice, three times.

 

"Hello?" A rich baritone voice sounded in Daniel's earpiece. 

 

"Mr. Gardner?"

 

"Yes."

 

Daniel licked his lips nervously. "Hi, you probably don't remember me. My name is Daniel Jackson."

 

*******************

 

"O'Neill." Jack barked his name into the airphone.  "Do you want me to spell it for you, airman?"

 

Jack's temper had worsened during the day. All attempts to arrange an immediate military flight to the UK had been thwarted by some beancounter who apparently had a first-class degree in red tape and his head up his backside when it came to understanding the finer points of national security. Jack, Janet and the rest of SG-1 had ended up in economy class on a commercial flight. Admittedly Jack had been somewhat shy with details - telling Mr Red Tape they were attempting to track down an archaeologist with a fried brain courtesy of an ex-girlfriend who was now host to the Egyptian god, Osiris, wasn't exactly on Jack's top ten list of things to do before breakfast, but even so…

 

Damn it, but his knees hurt cramped in this small space. Why did airlines not appreciate the fact some passengers reached the staggeringly enormous heights of six foot plus? Sitting next to him, Carter gave him a sympathetic look as he glanced past her and across the aisle to where Janet Fraiser was curled up, sound asleep. Next time she complained about being small, he'd remind her she was the only one who slept on this flight. Sitting next to Janet was Teal'c, who looked even more uncomfortable than Jack felt. Oh, Daniel was so going to pay for this when they caught up with him.

 

"Colonel O'Neill?" It was Hammond's voice.

 

"Finally!" Jack couldn't rein in his frustration at battling through the SGC security systems to reach the general. "We made the flight, Sir. Any news on Daniel?"

 

"Yes, there is. I've just had word Doctor Jackson's credit card was used at London's Heathrow airport." 

 

Jack blew out a relieved breath. "At least we know we're heading in the right direction."

 

"That's not all, Colonel. He used it to make a phone call, and we were able to trace the number."

 

"He did?" Jack's stomach lurched. Why the hell would Daniel, who was carrying over four thousand dollars in cash, use his credit card to make a phone call? For the first time since Daniel had gone missing, Jack allowed himself to acknowledge the idea that Daniel just might not be firing on all cylinders, that Fraiser's concerns about Daniel's physical health - damn it, admit it, her concerns about possible brain damage - might be moving from conjecture to an all-too real medical scenario. And if that was the case, if Daniel really was losing it, the stakes in the game - both regarding Daniel's well-being and the possibility of him blabbing about the Stargate - just notched higher. The low-key kid-glove retrieval might not be a possibility. 

 

"Jack? You still there?"

 

"Yes, General." Jack pulled his thoughts back to the here and now. "So the phone call. He contacted the Gardners, right?"

 

"Yes. And by my estimate, you're five hours behind him."  

 

"Understood, sir." Jack pulled in a deep breath. "Plan C, sir?"

 

"It's in hand. I hope for Doctor Jackson's sake it won't come to that."

 

Jack clicked off the phone. In response to Carter's raised eyebrows, he quickly relayed the information.

 

"Five hours," Sam considered. "With a little bit of luck we can still intercept him before he actually meets the Gardners. Chances are he'll check into a hotel or something first, right?"

 

"Ordinarily yes." Jack pulled a face at his own thoughts. "But Daniel isn't exactly thinking straight right now."

 

"But that could work in our favour, sir." Carter's face was animated as Jack raised his eyebrows in question. "Think about it. How would you feel if a virtual stranger turned up on your doorstep looking like hell and raving about aliens and Egyptian gods? They'd probably call the local authorities before Daniel ever got a foot in the door."

 

Jack fixed Carter with a stern look. There were certain times when her enthusiasm for logic made her totally blind to the impact of her conclusions on real life. This was definitely one of those moments. "Well that makes me feel a whole hell of a lot better, Carter." The sarcasm dripped like acid from his tongue. "Forget going to the Gardners'… we can just head straight to the local nut house and collect Daniel."

 

Carter's face fell. "I didn't mean…" She slumped back into her seat. "I… "

 

Mollified by the horror on her face as realisation struck home, Jack softened. Besides he was hardly being fair to her seeing how he'd just been contemplating the very same possibility. "Forget it, Carter. It's not an issue anyway. General Hammond has initiated Plan C."

            "Oh?" Carter's eyes widened in question.

 

"He's requesting the co-operation of the British police. Assuming they agree to play ball, a round-the-clock watch will be put on the Gardners' house. If Daniel goes within a hundred yards of it he'll be picked up. I just hope he doesn't do anything really stupid if that happens."  

 

"The British police don't carry firearms as a matter of routine, Sir. At the very worst…" Carter flushed as Jack gave her a sour look. "Sorry, sir.

 

Jack leaned back in his own seat, staring up at the air conditioning vent above his head in frustration. "So do you think asking the pilot to hit the gas would get us there any faster?"

 

Carter managed a small smile. "Depends, sir."

 

"Oh?" Jack shot her a quick look. "Depends on what?"

 

"Whether you delivered the message or Teal'c."

 

Jack smiled ruefully as he followed her gaze to the glowering Jaffa, cramped in the seat across the aisle. "If it wouldn't result in us getting mistaken for hijackers I'd send him right up there, Major. Believe me, I would."

 

******************

 

They were waiting at the arrivals gate just as they had said they would, scanning the arriving passengers from the far end of the hall, faces apprehensive. Daniel had met them once but only briefly. They'd been in the States to visit Sarah, but their stay had coincided with a dig he was running, and he'd had less than two hours with them before having to catch a plane. He recognised them instantly, though, from photographs Sarah had shown him. They were in their mid-sixties, well-dressed in a conservative style, exuding the air of people who enjoyed long country walks. Sarah had obviously inherited her height and cheek bones from her father, but her curly hair came from her mother, although any hint of blonde was long gone on the older woman.

 

Having managed to replace his lost dinner with an airline breakfast and a surprisingly decent cup of coffee, Daniel was feeling somewhat better than he had in London. The pounding in his head had even eased to a level vaguely approaching bearable thanks to a couple of prescription-only migraine tablets a sympathetic fellow passenger had slipped him. He gripped his hand luggage firmly, took a deep breath and made his way towards them in as direct a path as he could through the other passengers.

 

"Hi." He smiled uncertainly and held out his hand to Mr Gardner. "I'm Daniel Jackson."

            Steel blue eyes seemed to penetrate right through Daniel as Mr Gardner looked him up and down before taking his hand. The man's grip was like steel.

 

He introduced himself, "John Gardner," and then nodded towards Sarah's mother. "My wife, Anne."

 

"Pleased to meet you again, Doctor Jackson." Anne Gardner held out a slender hand. "That all your luggage?"

 

Daniel glanced at the holdall he was still gripping in his left hand. "Umm… yes. Travelling light."

 

"Indeed," Mr Gardner commented.

 

The hint of disapproval wasn't lost on Daniel. Feeling awkward he shuffled his feet slightly. "It was good of you to pick me up."

 

Mrs Gardner smiled. "It was the least we could do. Any friend of Sarah's…" Her voice trailed off, emotional pain at the mention of her daughter's name all too clear on her face. 

 

Embarrassed, Daniel's gaze drifted to the horizon, and he desperately tried to think of some suitable response, but before he could offer any form of sympathy, Mr Gardner snatched the holdall from him. "Car's this way. Come on, Anne."

 

Mrs Gardner shot Daniel another small smile and then trailed after her husband, Daniel in her wake.

 

After the discomfort of the airline seat, Daniel was relieved to sink into the soft leather seats of the Gardners' Mercedes. As Mr Gardner turned the ignition key, Anne Gardner glanced over her shoulder at Daniel.

 

"You look exhausted."

 

Exhausted. Daniel had to admit to himself the word didn't even begin to describe his physical condition. He did, however, feel he was beginning to get a grip on the situation again now he'd made it to the UK without being apprehended by his worst nightmare - an irate colonel and a feather spitting medic. He nodded. "I do feel a bit… jet-lagged."

 

Anne smiled sympathetically. "I hope you won't mind but we took the liberty of booking you into a local hotel. We'd offer to put you up ourselves only we've just the two bedrooms and…"

 

"No, no, I understand." Daniel returned the smile with an appreciative one of his own. "You've done enough already. I'm sure the hotel will be fine. Thank you."

 

A quick nod and Anne turned her attention back to the road. They drove in silence, quickly leaving the city behind and heading out into the countryside. Despite his tiredness, Daniel fought sleep, not wanting to appear rude, but the soft leather and the warmth of the car were too powerful. His eyelids closed, and he succumbed to the bliss of pain-free darkness. 

 

Some time later, he jerked awake, confused and disorientated, as the car engine shut off. Peering at the large stone-built house in front of him, he rubbed at his eyes, trying to clear his vision before belatedly realising the fog was real. As Anne turned towards him and John swung the driver's door open, he gave up trying to figure things out for himself.

 

"Where are we?"

 

"This is the Craith Arms. Not exactly five-star but the best there is round here."

 

"The Craith Arms?" Daniel's eyebrows danced as he concentrated his thoughts. "Oh. We're not in St. Andrews, then?"

 

Anne laughed softly. "Heavens no. We moved from there six months ago. John wanted to be out in the country… so we came here. Actually we don't even live in the village - we're a couple of miles out." 

 

"But your phone number?" Daniel was feeling totally confused.

 

"We took that with us. Can't you do that in the States?"

 

"I umm… I guess so. Never really thought about it." Daniel pushed the car door open and stepped into the cold damp air. The fog was thick enough to obscure the exit from the hotel, the gravel driveway disappearing into the grey haze roughly thirty feet away. Daniel shivered slightly as the cold began to bite through his thin jacket.

 

John retrieved his holdall from the trunk and dropped it at Daniel's feet. "You'll come for dinner." It was more a command than an invitation.

 

Daniel nodded. "Thank you. Yes."

 

Anne was out of the car now, she tapped her fingers lightly against Daniel's bicep, the gesture one of gentle concern. "You look done in, lad. Get some sleep and freshen up. John'll collect you at six-thirty this evening."

 

Daniel nodded again. He stooped to pick up his holdall with his left hand, wincing as the action increased the pain in his temples. He straightened up quickly, his vision blurring then clearing. "You're very kind." He held out his right hand to John. "Thank you."

 

The older man stared down at the hand for a long moment. His reaction teetered dangerously close to the fine line between hesitation and rudeness before he abruptly shook Daniel's hand. "Dinner. Six-thirty. Don't be late." He turned away and got back behind the wheel of the car.

 

Feeling more and more uncertain, Daniel gave Anne one last quick smile and headed towards the hotel entrance.

 

************************

 

Climbing into the car, Anne Gardner shot her husband a quick look. "There was no need to be so rude."

 

John grunted. "Damn Americans. All mouth and trousers. What's he come all this way for anyway? He did nothing but cause Sarah misery when she was alive. If he's come looking for absolution…"

 

"John. Don't." Anne rested her hand gently on her husband's arm. "They lived together for over a year. You can't do that and not care for someone." As John made no response, Anne continued. "At least be civil to him. I'm sure it's what Sarah would've wanted."

 

By way of reply John slammed the car into gear and reversed sharply, preparing to turn back down the driveway. His gaze flickered towards the hotel entrance. "Civil? Very well. But only for Sarah's sake."

 

Anne gave a soft sigh of relief, her own gaze drifting to the hotel. Through the open door, she could just about make out the shadowy figure of Daniel Jackson standing by the reception desk. Whatever his reason for turning up in their lives, whatever his relationship with Sarah had been, there was something about the lad that had immediately tugged at her maternal instincts. She sighed again, speaking her thoughts aloud as was her custom. "If you ask me, that lad is unwell."

 

John gave another grunt. "I said I'd be civil. Don't ask me to care about his health." Hitting the gas, he turned the car out of the hotel grounds, heading for home.

 

**************************************

 

Inspector Smith was not a happy man. Just what did the powers that be think he was running here? This was St. Andrews not some New York city precinct. Twenty-four hour surveillance. Right! He really had the manpower for that what with car crime going through the roof and some nutcase terrorising the local female student population. There had been two rapes in the past week - that was where his men were needed. Not watching over some house to keep the United States Air Force happy.

 

Swallowing the dregs of a cold cup of coffee, he cursed roundly and then headed into the main office area. He was in luck - or not, depending on how you looked at it. Six of his men were here - four of them hunched over computers, two refilling their mugs from the coffee pot.

 

"Gentlemen," he announced. "I need volunteers. Anyone without a full case load please raise their hand."

 

A ripple of amused laughter went around the room. Nobody raised a hand, just as Smith had expected.

 

"Okay. Here's the deal. The United States Air Force has kindly requested our assistance with what they refer to as a potentially explosive risk to their national security."

 

"Oh yeah? The President been sticking it where it doesn't belong again?" called one of the men from the coffee machine.

 

Smith ignored him and the schoolboy snickering that accompanied the remark. "They want us to do twenty-four surveillance on a house and if this gentleman, one Daniel Melburn Jackson, comes anywhere near it, we're to pick him up and hold him in protective custody." He held up a computer-printed picture of Daniel.

 

The big mouth at the coffee machine spoke again. "Twenty-four hour surveillance? What do they think we are?"

 

"My thoughts exactly, Mainard," Smith replied. "However, in the interests of international co-operation, we need to show willing. Work out a roster so the house is covered between 8 am and 9 pm. And gentlemen - minimal force, please. Doctor Jackson is some sort of scientist. He isn't reported as being dangerous."

 

As his men made various disgruntled noises, Smith read out the address of the house. Almost immediately one of the men at the computers looked up.

 

"Hey. I know that address."

 

"Care to enlighten us as to how, Miller?" Smith asked.

 

The young man nodded. "My girlfriend used to live there."

 

"Really." Smith sighed. "Well no doubt she will get a vicarious thrill out of her previous home being the centre of so much attention. Get to it everyone."

 

*************************

 

"Damnit!" Jack cursed as he saw the departure screens announcing a delay to the connecting flight to Edinburgh. Doing a quick sweep of the crowded lounge, he spotted a uniformed staff member and pushed his way through the press of disgruntled travellers. "What's with the delay?"

 

The young woman smiled politely at him. "Where are you travelling to, sir?"

 

"Edinburgh."

 

"I'm afraid Edinburgh is fog-bound, sir."

 

"And that means no flights for how long?" Jack asked.

 

The woman tapped at the computer keyboard behind the desk, pulling up a display. "The delay is currently running at about four hours. But we have no way of knowing how quickly the fog will lift." Jack swore softly. "We are trying to keep everyone fully informed, sir. As soon as we have news…"

 

"Yeah. Yeah." Jack was already moving away. Rejoining Fraiser, Carter and Teal'c, he relayed the bad news.

 

"So we're stuck here for who knows how long?" Fraiser frowned, clearly unhappy with the news.

Jack's gaze swept the lounge again. "Maybe not."

 

Carter's gaze followed his. "Rental car? Sir, according to Sarah's university records, her parents live in St Andrews. I think we'd be looking at a ten hour drive minimum. And with the fog…."       

 

"Okay, okay. I get the point, Carter." Jack glared at her before turning his attention back to the departure screens. "I guess we just sit it out then." 

 

*************************

 

Daniel had made sure he was on time and presentable when John Gardner came to pick him up from his hotel, but nevertheless the journey had been awkward; all Daniel's attempts to make conversation were greeted with little more than monosyllabic replies. Now, as he prodded at his mashed potatoes, he wished he was anywhere other than sitting at the Gardners' dinner table. Anne had welcomed him warmly, piling his plate with enough meat and vegetables to feed a platoon of jaffa, but John was still presenting a frosty facade.

 

Daniel poked at the potatoes again, wishing the smooth texture of the vegetable didn't make him feel quite so nauseous. No way was he ever going to work through the mountain on his plate. If he was honest, though, the potatoes weren't the real problem. Neither was John, despite his stern expression and brusque line in conversation. No, the real problem was Joanne Gardner, Sarah's sister.

 

Two years younger than Sarah, Joanne not only bore more than a passing resemblance to her sister physically - the same curly blonde hair and delicate bone structure - she had the same facial expressions, and right now she was treating Daniel to a look that reminded him all too clearly of moments from the last few days of his relationship with Sarah, a look that screamed mistrust and anger. In fact she'd been treating Daniel to the same look from the moment she'd been introduced to him, and if Daniel considered John to be sparing with his words, Joanne was positively mute.

 

"More beef, Daniel?" Anne waved another slice of dark red meat at him.

 

Struggling not to heave, Daniel somehow managed a polite decline. He poked at the potatoes again. "I'm really sorry, Mrs Gardner, but I can't eat another mouthful. I guess my appetite is still on US time."

 

"It's alright, lad. Though you look like you need a few good meals inside of you." Anne rose to her feet and to Daniel's undying gratitude removed the plate of dreaded mashed potatoes. "You'll have some pudding, though? I've a jam sponge warming in the oven."

            Daniel shook his head. "Really. I'm sure it's delicious but…"

His words were cut off by Joanne banging her cutlery down on the table. "This is ridiculous. Do you think we could cut the happy families crap?" 

 

"Joanne!" Both parents turned shocked expressions towards their daughter, but she appeared unrepentant.

 

"What? It's not like he was still with Sarah. They hadn't been together for years." She turned cold blue eyes on Daniel. "And when they were, he made her life a misery."

 

"That's enough, Joanne." Embarrassment and distress vied for expression on Anne's face. She looked to her husband for support, but his gaze was on Daniel.

 

"I think perhaps Joanne has a point." John spoke softly. Holding Daniel's gaze he lifted his wine glass, sipped the blood red liquid then carefully set it back down.

 

Stunned by Joanne's accusation and the rapid deterioration of the situation, Daniel was desperately trying to pull his thoughts into some sort of sensible order. This was not how things were meant to happen. His carefully prepared speech scattered from his mind like petals falling from a dead flower. He opened his mouth to speak, thought better of it, and closed his jaws with an audible click as his teeth connected forcibly.

 

John's gaze pinned him in his seat, making him feel like an insect in a museum display case. "You said you had something to tell us, Doctor Jackson. Perhaps it would be best if you told us now."

 

"R…right." Daniel looked away, not knowing how to begin. Behind Anne he could see family photographs ranged along the fireplace. Pictures of the two sisters as young girls, then as teenagers, one of Sarah in a graduation gown, her fragile beauty enhanced by the radiant joy of her expression. Sarah had always enjoyed achievement. If you haven't worked for it, it's not worth having, was her motto. And work hard she did. First class degree. Top of her masters year.  Rumour had it she applied the philosophy to boyfriends too - apparently he was a difficult catch, too engrossed in work to notice the opposite sex. So was that all he'd been? Another trophy?

 

Anne's worried tone broke through his thoughts. "Doctor Jackson? Daniel?"

 

Sarah's face swam before him, but now her eyes were glowing with evil brightness. Her beautiful face devoid of compassion as Osiris used her body to demand information of him. Slender fingers obscenely strong around his neck. Pain spearing through his head as she raised her hand, the jewelled glove glowing with deadly light. A memory flash. An image not of his own making.

 

Frightened. Alone. Lost. Please somebody. Help me. I'm lost… lost…

 

Daddy!

 

Daniel's hand jerked involuntarily, knocking against his glass. Red wine spilled over his sleeve, staining the soft cream-coloured wool of his sweater. He stared at it, not comprehending what had happened or even where he was. Suddenly Anne was on her feet, fussing with a paper napkin.

 

"Oh, Daniel. Your jumper will be ruined."

 

"It's… please… don't worry about it." Daniel looked up and found John Gardner's cold eyes still studying him. He returned the gaze for a long moment. feeling an unexpected compassion for the man - for Sarah's father - despite the undeserved hostility being radiated across the table.

 

"I came to tell you…" Daniel hesitated, struggling to keep a grip on reality. Tell him what? Got to keep it safe. What would touch this man, this father? "…your daughter loved you very much." He licked his lips nervously as emotion flickered into John's eyes. Surprise? Grief? Anger? Daniel couldn't be sure, but now he'd begun speaking, words burst from him as though of their own volition. "She wants you to remember her… to never stop…" He bit down hard on his bottom lip, the pain pulling him up short as his mind shouted the words. '…Looking for her!' The way he had for Sha're. The way a father would for a daughter if he knew…

 

Oh God, he was losing it. He couldn't say that. He mustn't say that! He felt he'd stepped into some bizarre play where everyone knew their lines except him. He was expected to make it up as he went along, but every time he thought he knew which act he was in someone changed the scenery. Daniel sucked in a long breath trying to regain control.

 

John Gardner rose slowly to his feet, jaws clenched so tight his voice was barely more than a whisper. "How dare you." He rounded the table towards Daniel, his stance menacing. "You think we would forget her?"

 

"I…" Daniel swallowed, tasting the metallic flavour of blood in his mouth. "No. God, no! That wasn't what I meant."

 

Joanne rose to stand behind her father's shoulder. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

 

Shaking his head at the onslaught, Daniel studied the tablecloth for a long moment. When he looked up, his face was earnest, his voice pleading. "Somebody who cared for your sister."

 

"Well she didn't care for you," Joanne snapped. "She wouldn't have given you the time of day!"

 

Anger at the unfairness of it all flared briefly in Daniel. "No, you're wrong. When I saw her last we just… talked. Like old friends. Sarah…"

 

Joanne's eyes narrowed. "When did you see her?" Her right hand flew to her mouth in shock. "Oh my God. You must've been with her just before she died."

 

"W…w…what?" Daniel was taken aback, unable to figure out how Joanne had reached that conclusion.

 

Joanne's glare darkened. "I was in Chicago less than three weeks ago. Sarah would've told me if she'd seen you. She shared everything with me. Which means…Were you in Egypt with her?"

 

Horrified at the directness of the question, Daniel desperately racked his brain for some safe truth he could impart. "I… Egypt? I… umm… I went to Professor Jordon's funeral. I read about his death in the paper." He tried hard not to grimace, knowing he sounded about a million years from convincing.

 

"Right!" Joanne spat the word with contempt. "So let me get this straight. You turn up after four years - at a funeral of all places - and the first thing Sarah wants to do is tell you how much she loves her family?"

 

Daniel rubbed at his forehead. His headache was back with a vengeance, shattering his thoughts as fast as he formed them. "Want do you want me to say?"

 

"I want the truth."

 

"The truth." Daniel felt a rush of emotional pain. If only Joanne knew how desperately he wanted to tell her the truth. To tell her Sarah was still alive - trapped in a nightmare, yes, but still alive. Perhaps he had sold his soul to the military after all.

 

His silence merely fuelled Joanne's rage. She took a step forward. "You make me sick. Coming here, pretending you had some message…"

 

A plate crashed to the floor, shattering through angry words. All eyes turned towards Anne. The older woman looked distraught, eyes brimming with tears. "Stop it! Stop it all of you!" She fell to her knees picking up pieces of shattered china and glops of mashed potato with her fingers.

 

Mortified, Daniel stepped towards her. "Please, let me…"

 

"No!" John caught Daniel's arm. "I think you've done enough. Leave!"

 

For a long moment Daniel stood motionless, his gaze alternating from Anne's frantic efforts on the floor to Joanne's angry glare; the emotional assault accompanied by the physical assault of John's fingers digging painfully into the muscles of his forearm. The tension was broken by Joanne.

 

"Go!" she snarled, kneeling down beside her mother. "You've done enough damage."

 

"I'm sorry." The words were barely more than a whisper, squeezed past the heavy emotion choking Daniel. "I'm sorry." He pulled in a long nasal breath, straightened his shoulders, and then walked towards the door. As his hand rested on the cool metal of the doorknob he turned back towards the Gardners'. "Please believe me. I only wanted to…" He couldn't say the words. What hope could he offer to this family? Oh God! How could he have been so stupid? "I'm really sorry."

 

John Gardner didn't even look at him. "Get out of my house. And don't come back."

 

Bowing his head, Daniel left.  

 

************************

 

Delays, delays, delays. Jack felt as though the entire world was conspiring to prevent him from finding Daniel. Having finally reached Edinburgh airport, the team found themselves waiting in line for a rental car despite having reserved one before departing London. When they eventually made it out of the airport, progress was hampered by road works. As they crawled past a 70 mph speed limit sign doing little more than 25, Jack slammed his hand against the steering wheel in angry frustration, demanding to know if it was National Road Repair Day.

At long last, however, they pulled up outside the Gardeners' home - a grey stone terrace house with a well-kept garden. As Jack killed the car engine, he studied his surroundings, paying close attention to the handful of parked cars dotted along the street. The streetlights were already on, but it was still that ambivalent point between daylight and night, and from what Jack could see all the cars were vacant.

 

"Anybody see anything that looks vaguely like police surveillance?" 

 

Sitting in the front passenger seat, Janet shook her head. "Not a thing."

 

Jack sighed. "Neither can I. So much for the spirit of international co-operation."

 

Teal'c leaned forward, his gaze on the house. "What is your plan, O'Neill?"

 

"I figure the fastest way to find out if Daniel's been here is to go and ask." He pushed open the driver's door. "Wait here."

 

Climbing out of the car, Jack headed towards the house. A small wooden gate opened onto a gravel pathway. To one side was a neat area of lawn with a small pond in its centre; the other side boasted a bed of brightly coloured flowers. Stepping onto a small porch, Jack hesitated at the sight of two pairs of children's boots and a baby's buggy. He didn't recall any mention of the Gardners having grandchildren. Of course, it could be friends or neighbours…

 

He knocked on the door, then spotted the bell. Just for good measure he rang that too. Moments later shadows moved behind the frosted glass and then the door opened, revealing a young woman in her mid-twenties. The sounds of a crying baby reached through the narrow hallway, and Jack caught a brief glimpse of a toddler peering curiously around an inner doorway.

 

"Mrs Gardner?"

 

The young woman looked at him blankly, her attention clearly as much on her children as on him. "Sorry?"

 

"I'm looking for Mrs Gardner?"

 

"Oh right." Understanding flickered across the young woman's face. She glanced over her shoulder at the toddler. "I'll be right there, Tom." She turned back to Jack. "The Gardners don't live here anymore. They moved… let me think… back in February." She smiled apologetically. "Canadian, right?"  

 

It was Jack's turn to look blank.

 

The woman stooped to gather up the toddler as he joined her at the door. "Your accent. Canadian. The Gardners have family out there…"

 

"Oh." Jack smiled as he caught on. "Actually…" The denial died on his lips, his black ops training automatically kicking in. Cover story offered. Cover story taken. "Yes. I'm a cousin. Very distant - on Anne's side. I just figured… while in the neighbourhood." He shrugged casually. "So you wouldn't happen to have their new address?"

 

"Sure. Give me a moment. I'll get it for you."

 

She disappeared into the house, leaving Jack on the doorstep. Moved? In February? Jack fumed silently. Why didn't anybody think to check that? Daniel could be miles away.

 

The young woman reappeared minus the toddler. She held out a small square of paper to Jack.

 

He looked at the unfamiliar name. "Is it far?"

 

She shook her head. "An hour maybe. Do you need directions?"

 

"I have a map." Jack pocketed the address. "But thanks. You've been a great help."

  

*********************

 

David Miller leaned over and kissed the tip of Joanne Gardner's nose, before tracing one finger along the line of her cheek. His other hand ran down the length of her body, brushing along her naked thigh.

 

"Such a sad face on such a beautiful body," he said softly, leaning in to kiss her again.

 

Their love-making had been urgent, almost desperate. Joanne had arrived at his flat, clearly upset and just as clearly not wanting to talk about whatever was bothering her. Instead she'd jumped him, tearing his clothes off with a frenzied passion that both excited and scared him. David wasn't the sort of guy to complain about his girlfriend either initiating sex or being in charge during it. However, this style of lovemaking was becoming something of a pattern, and he had to admit he missed the slow, leisurely pace that had characterised their intimate moments before the death of her sister.

 

He sighed. One of his mates had said it was just Joanne's way of coping with the grief, of proving that she was still alive even if her sister wasn't. David wasn't a big fan of pyschobabble, but he knew one thing. If he could take away the pain for Joanne, if he could somehow make it better, he would do it, no matter what it was she needed. Of course his mate had laughed at him saying that. Yeah right, must be a real hardship having your girlfriend begging you for it. David shook his head - all his mates thought sex and love were the same thing. He knew different. His relationship with Joanne was more than just sex, it was about… her being part of him. He really would do anything for her.

 

As he studied her now, Joanne snaked a hand around his neck, pulling his head down and kissing his forehead lightly. "I'm sorry. It's just…" She untangled her legs from his and got out of the bed, reaching for her dressing gown. "We had a visitor today. An ex-boyfriend of Sarah's."

 

"Oh?" David's eyes narrowed, his mind immediately recalling the request for surveillance on Joanne's previous home. The two couldn't be related, could they? He shelved the thought, instead leaning back into his pillow, sensing Joanne was now ready to talk about what had been bothering her. 

 

"He just turned up out of the blue and Mum… you know what she's like… before I knew it she had him sitting at the dinner table like he was one of the family."

 

"So what did he want?"

 

Joanne pulled a face. "I'm not really sure.  I was expecting him to ramble on about how awful it was Sarah's gone, maybe something about never having a chance to put things right between them, you know the kind of thing. They lived together for a year but it didn't work out - all his fault according to Sarah. But instead…" She hesitated, clearly trying to sort her thoughts. "You know, it's not so much what he said that's bothering me as what he didn't say."

 

David frowned. "What do you mean?"

 

Joanne reached for the wine bottle sitting on the dresser before replying. She poured two glasses, handing one to David as she settled on the edge of the bed. "I can't explain it but… I just got this feeling he was holding out on us. That he knows something about what happened to Sarah."

 

David swallowed a mouthful of wine and looked at Joanne with mild surprise. "Are you suggesting he had something to do with Sarah's death?" 

 

She shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe. Now I think about it…" Joanne's face became suddenly animated. "A priceless artefact has gone missing. And everyone who has been linked with it also has some sort of connection to Jackson. Sarah. Her professor…"

            "What?" David straightened up. "Wait a minute. What name did you say?"

            "Jackson." Now it was Joanne's turn to look surprised. "Daniel Jackson. Sarah met him when she moved to the States. You know him or something?"

            David hesitated, not wanting to launch into a wild theory that would scare Joanne, and yet at the same time unable to ignore the intuitive prickling at the back of his neck. "No, I don't. Not personally." He paused, not sure how much more to tell her.

 

"And?" Joanne demanded.

 

A soft sigh escaped David. Joanne could be like a dog with a bone. Once she suspected he was holding out on her, she'd worry away at him until he came clean. He might as well be up-front. "We had a request to keep watch on your old house today and to pick up one Doctor Daniel Jackson if he went anywhere near it."

 

"Oh my God." Joanne paled. "A request from who?"

 

"The US Air Force."

 

"Well that doesn't make any sense. What would the air force want with an archaeologist?"

 

"I really don't know." He blew out a breath, frowning because he couldn't come up with an explanation. He shelved that thought along with the other one for now, instead prompting Joanne. "So you were saying… a priceless artefact went missing?"

 

Joanne made an exasperated noise. "Didn't you read that magazine article I gave you? The funeral of Sarah's professor coincided with a priceless artefact going missing."

 

"Oh right. I remember. And there was another death at the university, right after that."

 

"Yes." Joanne's face was agitated. "A librarian, I think. And then…" She hesitated before forcing the words out. "Then there was Sarah." She stared at David. "Oh God. What if Sarah found out Jackson had stolen it, and he was covering his tracks. He could've followed her to Egypt, knowing she would be working in that tomb, miles from anywhere…"

 

"Murder?" David breathed the word as he realised where Joanne's logic was leading. He could suddenly see himself as the hero of an international crime story - 'Local PC captures multi-murderer. "Do you know where he was heading after yours?"  Pushing back the quilt he began to pull on his pants.

 

Her expression surprised, Joanne nodded. "Back to his hotel I'd guess. Mum booked him a room at the Craith Arms."

 

"The Craith Arms. Excellent."

 

"David, wait! What are you doing?"

 

Tugging on his shirt, David turned to her. "I'm going to apprehend your visitor.  See that justice is done."

 

Joanne shook her head. "But you said the United States Air Force was after him, not the American police. That doesn't make any sense."

 

David hesitated. "No, it doesn't." He shrugged. "What does it matter who's after him? The important thing is we know where he is, and in half an hour he'll be in police custody." He reached for his shoes and tugged them on. When he straightened up, he found himself face to face with Joanne, distress stamped across her features. He reached out a hand and gently caressed her cheek. "I thought this would make you happy."

 

"It does. I mean, it would. It's just…" Her voice trailed away.

 

"What?"

 

"David, you're the one who's always complaining about justice being perverted by money. Or politics. Explain to me why the air force wants him?"

 

David considered a moment. "I can't."

 

"What if they're planning some cover up?"

 

A laugh escaped him. "You've been watching too much X-files." It was the wrong thing to do and say. Joanne pulled away from him sharply, a different emotional pain registering on her face. David was immediately contrite. "Jo, I'm sorry. I know you're upset over Sarah's death, but…"

 

She turned back to him. "If Jackson was involved in some way… I need to know. And I need to know now!" Angry tears welled in her eyes. "I couldn't bear it if he just went back to the States where some lawyer will drag the case out for years and years while he's walking around free."

 

"Jo…"

 

She shook her head, rubbing away the tear with the palm of her right hand. "I know. I know. Sometimes the bad guys win. You read about it in the papers all the time. It's just that this time, it's not a newspaper story, David. This time it's personal." She stared at him for a long moment. When she spoke her voice was filled with raw anguish. "I need to know the truth, David. That's all." 

 

*****************

 

A couple of miles. That was what Anne had said. Daniel hadn't really paid much attention to the journey from his hotel to the Gardners', but now he was getting up close and personal with Scottish countryside. People paid good money to ramble these hills, but he was definitely not enjoying the experience. And it sure as hell was more than a couple of miles. How long had he been walking now? He hadn't noticed what time he'd left the Gardners', but his body was protesting. Keeping up with Jack O'Neill while wearing SGC-issue boots was one thing. Tramping across the Scottish countryside in casual shoes with a timpani playing in his head and a heavy meal threatening to make a reappearance was a whole different ball game.

 

Damn it. He should never have taken that footpath. Why on earth had he assumed it would be quicker than the road? For all he knew some joker had turned the signs round, and he was in fact heading out into the hills, never to be seen again. Of course there were some people who might think that was a good thing. No, don't go there… Should've known he was running out of daylight too. Should've stuck to the road, tried to thumb a ride...

 

He thrust his hands further into his pockets, desperately seeking the scant warmth they offered. He was cold and wet, the fog-laden air having done a very effective job of soaking him to the skin - his lightweight cotton jacket providing no protection. Irritably he removed his glasses, wiped the moisture from the lenses and then put them back on. Well, that was useless. All he'd succeeded in doing was smearing them.

 

Useless. Just like him. Useless and stupid. Yeah. That pretty much summed it up. That's what he was. Totally stupid. All he'd succeeded in doing was making things worse. Upsetting Sarah's mother. Pissing off her father. And… He shivered as his thoughts turned to Joanne. He should have left well alone, should never have left the SGC. Doctor Daniel Jackson. Archaeologist and prize-winning imbecile. He should have it engraved on a sign for his office door. Jack would no doubt approve.

His head jerked up as he caught a glimmer of light in the distance, providing the perfect opportunity for his internal percussion player to crash the cymbals. Shit - very nearly lost his dinner that time…

 

Was it? Please, let it be. His pace quickened as he approached the corner of the field he was crossing. Yes! A gate leading onto a road.  Thank God! Wearily Daniel climbed over its metal bars and felt the comforting solidity of tarmac beneath his ruined shoes.

 

But now what? Left or right? He was totally disorientated and in the darkness there was no indication as to which way might lead him back to his lodgings. He fumbled in his pocket, pulled out a US dime and tossed it. Heads for left. Tails for right. It came down heads. Daniel peered up the featureless road to his left, still no clue as to where it might go. It did however incline slightly upwards. Shoving the coin back into his pocket he ducked his head down and turned right. The way his luck was going, following the coin would probably lead him bang dab into some sort of trouble. And at least this way he was walking downhill.

 

********************************

 

It was almost 10 pm by the time Jack pulled the car up outside the Gardners' cottage. Killing the headlamps he studied the small building.

 

"Talk about being in the middle of nowhere."

 

The middle of nowhere and a late hour. Hardly ideal for introducing themselves. Carter's voice from the rear of the car put his thoughts into words.

 

"Sir, don't you think it's kind of late to pay a visit?"

 

Jack glanced at Janet who was sitting in the front passenger seat. She pulled a face. "Sam's got a point. We may not be very welcome. But if there's any chance of finding Daniel tonight…"

 

"I'll go." Jack's hand was already on the door handle.

 

"Sir," Sam leaned forward. "Let me. A woman at the door at this time of night… well it might be less intimidating. Especially out here."

 

"You saying I'm intimidating, Carter?" Jack's eyebrows danced.

 

"No, sir," she responded quickly. "Just that I might be viewed as…"

 

A hint of a smile tugged at Jack's lips, as she rose to his bating. "It's okay, Carter. Go to it."

 

Jack lowered the window of the driver's door. The car was parked close enough to the cottage that he hoped he would be able to hear any conversation at the cottage door. He drummed his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel as Carter knocked on the door.

 

Several long moments passed, and then the door opened a crack.

 

"Hi!"

 

Jack could imagine the dazzling smile Carter delivered with her greeting. She was right, if any one could get information about Daniel at this time of night, it would be her.

 

"Mr. Gardner?" There was no response, so Jack figured the man must have simply nodded.

 

Carter plowed on. "I'm really sorry to disturb you so late, but my friends and I…" Carter gestured towards the car. "We're trying to catch up with one of our group who came on ahead. And he mentioned he might look you up."

 

The crack between the door and its frame widened slightly. As Jack caught a glimpse of a tall man in its early sixties, he leaned forward and waved his fingers in greeting. "Hi, how you doing?"

 

John Gardner favoured him with a sour look before turning his attention back to Carter. "If you're looking for Jackson, he's gone."

 

"Gone? Then he was here earlier?"

 

Gardner's gaze shifted uneasily to the car. "Try the Craith Arms."

 

"The Craith Arms. Thank you." Carter's gratitude was delivered to a closed door.

 

Turning back towards the car she grimaced.

 

Jack responded in kind. "Not exactly the talkative type, huh?" 

 

"No." Carter slid into the rear seat beside Teal'c. "We got what we needed though. Right, sir?"

 

Jack nodded as he turned the ignition key. "The Craith Arms. So help me - if Daniel isn't there, I'm gonna kill him." Jack caught sight of Teal'c's reflection in his rear view mirror as the Jaffa raised an eyebrow at the comment. "It's just…"

 

"A saying," Teal'c finished for him dryly. "However, I concur with the sentiment. This journey has, so far, been what you would call a wild goose chase." He shifted in his seat, obviously finding the small car suited his large frame about as well as the airline seat. "I too wish to have words with Daniel Jackson."

 

*****************************

 

David Miller could scarcely believe his luck as he recognised Daniel Jackson. The hunched-over figure of the scientist was making less than steady progress along the opposite side of the road but Jackson had glanced up as David drove by, providing a glimpse of glasses and jawline. It was all David had needed; Jackson was the spitting image of his photo, except the real-life version looked as miserable as hell. Not that the latter bothered David; if Jackson was feeling low so much the better. It would simply make the scientist an easier target for what he had in mind.

 

David sucked in a sharp breath, nerving himself up for what he was about to do. His initial idea of simply pulling Jackson in for questioning had sat heavily on his shoulders as he'd driven away from Joanne. Her distressed face was burned into his memory, his guts twisting as he heard her anguished plea over and over. I just need to know the truth. A crazy idea had formed, and before he knew it he was making a very different plan. Could he do it? Did he dare? Playing bad cop, good cop in the police station was one thing. But this?

 

This is personal. Joanne's words fluttered through his mind. Yes. He could do this.

 

The first part of his hastily conceived plan had been to drive to the Craith Arms and wait for Jackson to appear in the morning. He fully expected his quarry to have retired for the night. But no - here was Jackson, not only walking on his own, but in the opposite direction of the village. The last few skeins of uncertainty were replaced by determination as David smiled to himself. This was definitely the right thing to do. He believed in karma and, assuming Jackson had been involved in Sarah's death, it looked liked the fates were working to ensure Jackson got what was owing him.

 

Right now, though, he needed to do some quick thinking, adjust his plan to make the most of this opportunity. David hadn't expected Jackson to be delivered right into his hands like this. He barely resisted the urge to snicker at the thought of the scientist being gift-wrapped for him. It was too good to be true. All too easy in fact. The moment of amusement vanished as quickly as it had arrived; Joanne's misery pulling David's mood back to more a vengeful nature. Maybe there was even time for a little bit of pay back before the main event.

 

Pulling into a gateway roughly half a mile further on, David did a U-turn. Hitting the gas, he sped back towards Jackson. Sure enough, the scientist was still plodding along the road, his arms wrapped around his chest. Perfect! Other than Jackson, the road was totally deserted. Time to give Doctor Jackson a little lesson in precision driving.

 

*************************

 

Well that was stupid, Jackson! Two minutes down the road, Daniel was still berating himself for letting the car go by without even trying to stop it. He should've flagged it down. So it was heading in the opposite direction? So what? It wasn't like he had any idea if he was walking the right way or not. Stupid, stupid, stupid! This whole fiasco was turning into a catalogue of one dumb decision after another. Perhaps he should just get himself signed over to somebody's care like when he was a kid. Let somebody else make all the decisions, since he was clearly incompetent of even getting himself to his hotel…

 

Wait! Daniel turned his head as he heard the sound of a car in the distance, approaching from behind. Someone else was coming. Finally! A chance for a ride. Slowing his pace, he turned towards the noise, the water on his glasses splintering the two headlights into a starry display as the car approached.

 

The fog had thinned out now, and Daniel was confident his light-coloured clothing would make him easy to see in a car's headlights, but he wasn't about to risk standing in the middle of the road. He did, however, step away from the verge, facing the car head on; waving his arms, teeth chattering in the cold, desperately hoping the driver would take pity on him.

 

A sudden change in engine rhythm, the well-tuned growl notching up a level, was like a slap in the face to Daniel. Please no! Surely the driver wasn't going to pass him by. Daniel's hope plummeted - he really needed this ride.

 

The headlights were dazzling now. The car was accelerating. Devastated, Daniel half-turned, then spun back as the potential danger finally penetrated his exhausted brain. God! It was coming straight at him. For a moment he stood transfixed in the brilliance of the artificial lights as the noise rushed towards him - as several tons of metal accelerated… No!

 

Instinct kicked in. Daniel threw himself to his right, landing face down in a shallow ditch of muddy water as the car careened past him. He choked and spluttered as foul-tasting liquid forced its way up his nose and down his throat. Gagging on the bitter taste, he pushed himself out of the ditch and onto the grass. Oh, bad idea. Lying on his back, he coughed relentlessly as his lungs tried to expel the foreign substances he'd breathed in. Tears streaming down his face, he rolled again, somehow managing to push himself onto his hands and knees.

 

By the time he was capable of looking up, the car was long gone. Resting his head on the grass Daniel pulled in a long breath, trying to calm his shattered nerves. Dampness seeping through his pants made him climb shakily to his feet. He was shivering badly now - the combination of cold and reaction turning his limbs to jelly. As he stepped cautiously back into the road, a wave of anger washed over him. Of all the things to happen, he had to be on the wrong end of somebody's drunken binge. Son-of-a-bitch. Hadn't he been through enough today without some goddamn idiot nearly killing him? What was it Jack liked to say? Bad day. That was it. Well this went way beyond bad - this was all the way to disgusting. No wait. He could do better than that; he was a goddamn linguist. Vile. Yes, vile was a good description.  Or wretched. Or…

 

Fired up by his outrage Daniel wrapped his arms firmly around his chest, the action both for warmth and comfort, and resumed his trek, promising himself as soon as he got to his hotel he was putting as much distance between himself and this place as possible.

 

He'd barely walked for another five minutes when he saw the lights. His pace slowed as he studied the scene in front of him. No, he wasn't seeing things. Up ahead was the car - its front wheels up the grass, nose almost into the hedge. Damn it. He'd figured right. The driver was a drunk. As he drew nearer his desire to give the idiot a piece of his mind was tempered by the thought the driver just might be hurt. He was surprised, though, to see the car door was wide open. Had the driver run off?  Or had he somehow been thrown from the car? Shit. This could be more serious than he'd thought.

 

Concern now outweighing anger, Daniel skirted the rear of the car and leaned against the open door, confirming what he already suspected; the car was empty. As he straightened up, intent on finding the missing driver, a shadowy figure moved at the periphery of his vision. Daniel turned his head, mouth opening to offer some form of greeting. The words didn't get a chance to form on his tongue. Pain flared as something solid contacted with his jaw. He tasted the musty flavour of soft earth as he hit the ground… Then came the blackness.

 

********************

 

Jack rang the bell on the reception desk of the Craith Arms for a third time, his jaw twitching in irritation at yet another delay. While he was sure Scotland lived up to its reputation as a fabulous place for a holiday he was fast coming to the conclusion it was a lousy place to be archaeologist-hunting.  "Anybody home?" He leaned over the counter, trying to see into the small back office.

 

"Sir?" Carter nudged his arm, as a slim, dark-haired man in his mid-thirties hurried into the hallway from a door at the far end.

 

"Sorry to keep you waiting. There was a problem in the bar." The man scurried over, lifted a flap in the counter and quickly positioned himself behind it. His gaze flickered appreciatively over Carter and Fraiser before fixing on Jack. He smiled broadly. "Welcome to the Craith Arms. How can I help you?"

 

Exhausted by the events of the past few hours, Jack summoned up his last bit of energy and somehow managed to present a façade of politeness. He returned the smile with a weary one of his own. "We'd like two twin rooms with showers."

 

The desk clerk beamed at him. "You're in luck. We were expecting a coach party in earlier but there was some problem on the road, and…"

 

Just great. The one person Jack wasn't interested in chatting with wanted to engage in small talk. He leaned forward on the counter and spoke quietly so the desk clerk had to lean closer to hear him. "Two rooms with showers. View and chat optional."

 

The caustic comment didn't fluster the professional good humour of the desk clerk. "Of course, sir. It's late. You're tired. Room keys coming right up, sir."

 

"Thank you." Jack's gratitude was genuine. "By the way, one of our colleagues came on ahead. Doctor Daniel Jackson. If you could just tell us which room he's in?"

 

The smile faltered on the desk clerk's face. "Ah, sorry. Can't give out that information. Security and all that…"

 

Jack sighed. He'd been expecting that response, but it still got notched up with the one hundred and one other things that had ticked him off today. He tried but failed to keep the irritation out of his voice. "He is staying here, right?"

 

"Oh, yes."

 

"Then maybe you could call him down to the desk for us?"

 

The clerk nodded. "Certainly, sir. I'll be right back." Turning away, he headed into the back office and picked up the telephone. A few moments later he returned. "Sorry but there's no reply from his room."

 

"Of course there isn't," Jack muttered sarcastically. He turned to Teal'c. "Want to check out the bar? See if he's there."

 

Teal'c nodded. By the time Jack had signed for the rooms, pocketed one key and handed the other to Carter, Teal'c was back. "Daniel Jackson is not in the bar or the rest room."

 

Damn. It had been clear from the drive to the hotel there was nowhere else to go in the small village. So where the hell was he? Of course Daniel had probably rented a car… Shit. He could be anywhere. They'd just have to sit and wait for him.

 

He turned back to the desk clerk and nodded towards the door. "This is the only way in, right?"

 

"Yes, sir. But we do have all the required fire escapes and…"

 

Jack waved him down. "It's okay. I wasn't checking up on your safety record." He pulled the room key out of his pocket and tossed it to Teal'c. "You want to hit the shower? I'll wait here. With any luck Daniel will quit with the aboriginal walkabout before midnight."

 

Carter immediately piped up. "What if he doesn't?"

 

"Then he'll turn into a pumpkin!" Jack turned an exasperated gaze on Carter. 

 

"Sorry, sir." Carter ducked her head, grabbed her bag and headed for the stairs.

 

Janet favoured Jack with a disapproving look and then followed in Carter's wake.

 

Jack turned to find Teal'c watching him solemnly. "What?!"

 

"You are in need of rest, O'Neill. I will wait for Daniel Jackson." He held out the room key.

 

Jack glared at him and then sighed. "You're right." He took the key. "Thanks. But if…"

 

"I will inform you as soon as Daniel Jackson returns," Teal'c interrupted.

 

Jack felt his lips twitch. Damn it if Teal'c wasn't getting to know him better than he knew himself. Picking up his bag, he nodded his thanks and headed up the stairs.

 

***********************

 

Consciousness brought a myriad of uncomfortable sensations. Dark. Cold. An unpleasant musty aroma in the air, the sort of smell associated with the underground levels of a medieval castle - damp earth and the lingering perfume of decaying masonry. Daniel sucked in a sharp breath as his neck muscles protested his lifting his head and an all-too-familiar headache set up a pounding in his temples that would rival Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture. His natural impulse to rub at his forehead was pulled up short by an even more unwelcome revelation. Uh-oh! He was lying on his side with his hands tied behind his back; handcuffs by the feel of it. Fear leapt straight into his emotional pole position, quickening his heart rate and notching up the volume of the timpani in his head.

 

He squinted into the dark, trying to distinguish at least a shadow, something to give him some clue as to where he was, but the blackness was total. Damn, but it was cold too. It suddenly dawned on him that an awful lot of bare skin was in contact with the floor. Oh this was not good Not good at all. Somebody had stripped him to his underwear, and the handcuffs were a pretty big give-away that whoever it was probably hadn't done so out of concern for his being dressed in wet, muddy clothing. He'd had discussions with Jack about interrogation techniques. Stripping a victim was a quick and easy way of making them feel vulnerable.

 

Memory was flooding back now. An interminable walk trying to find his hotel. The relief at finding the road and then that drunken idiot… Oh God! Had it been deliberate? Had somebody tried to run him off the road and then decided to kidnap him instead? No. He screwed up his face in concentration. That made no sense. And besides who would want to?

 

A second wave of fear engulfed him, stealing his breath. Memories of Jack insisting he get a new security system for his apartment flooded back. Jack had been on edge for weeks after revealing Makepeace's betrayal and the whole NID conspiracy, convinced there would be some sort of backlash. Was this it? Oh God. Please don't let that be the explanation. Daniel was pretty sure he rather be the prisoner of a goa'uld than in the hands of some NID fanatic with a grudge. Or even worse - Kinsey. Jack had accidentally let slip the senator's threat to remove Daniel permanently from the SGC, and it hadn't taken much for Daniel to realise there were at least two ways to define 'permanently'. If he was caught up in some sort of payback, chances were he had nothing to bargain with - that he was just a pawn in some sick game. His mind began to supply unpleasant images of various parts of his anatomy being mailed to Jack day by day. Stop it! Stop it! 

 

Reining in his imagination, Daniel vowed he was never going to watch another late night thriller. Squirming awkwardly, he managed to lever himself into a sitting position, finding a rough stone wall to lean against. He had to stay calm. Needed to think. To figure out what he was going to do whenever the person or people who had grabbed him came back. He had to concentrate on the positive side. He was in Scotland. The NID would hardly bother to follow him all the way to Scotland. And he did still have his underwear. That had to mean something, didn't it?

 

He was cold, uncomfortable, frightened and alone. Plus he was only too aware his judgement had been a little… off over the past few hours. It was bad enough knowing he was in the hands of someone who didn't have his best interests at heart; knowing he couldn't necessarily trust himself either - a soft, somewhat hysterical laugh escaped Daniel's throat. Yeah, right! There was a whole hell of a lot to be positive about.

 

*************************

 

Jack was pacing. Five strides to the window. Turn. Five strides to the bathroom door. He was aware of Carter and Fraiser following his progress, Fraiser perched on the edge of the bed, Carter sitting on a small sofa. He glanced at his watch again; it was exactly 1 am.

 

"That's it. Let's do it."

 

Without a word, both women followed him from the room. The hotel was silent as they hurried along the hallway and back down the stairs to the reception area.

 

"Teal'c!" Jack greeted the Jaffa, who was sitting on a hard-backed chair near the entrance to the hotel. "Any sign?"

 

"None."

 

Heading straight to the counter, Jack banged on the bell. This time the desk clerk appeared immediately.

 

"Doctor Jackson's room. We need to know which one it is. Now!"

 

There was no friendly smile this time. "Sir, I already explained…"

 

Janet stepped up to the counter and fixed the clerk with the kind of expression that Jack associated with needles, invasive examinations and a lecture on being a good patient. " I have reason to believe Doctor Jackson may be in need of medical attention, and as I'm his doctor I would be extremely grateful if you could tell me what room he's in."

 

The clerk hesitated a moment, his gaze moving uncertainly from Janet to Jack and then back again. "That's a joke, right?"

 

Teal'c took a step forward, his face like granite. "There is no humour here."

 

The clerk swallowed. "Look, really… I'd like to tell you, but it's more than my job's worth."

 

"A man's life could be at risk," Janet said quietly.

 

Still the clerk hesitated.

 

Jack blew out an exasperated breath. "Look. Either you tell us which room or I go through this hotel pounding on every door and hollering his name until we find him. Your choice!"

 

The clerk stared at Jack open-mouthed, clearly unable to make a decision.

 

"Fine!" Jack turned towards the staircase.

 

"No, no, no." The desk clerk suddenly became animated. "He's in Room 305."

 

"You've seen him this evening?" Carter asked.

 

The clerk shook his head. "Not since you arrived, no."

 

Jack thrust out a demanding hand. "Key. Now."

 

The clerk's eyes widened. "I…"

 

"Don't say can't," Jack warned, his voice low and menacing.

 

Reluctantly the clerk turned to the board behind him and took down the key to room 305. "You didn't get this from me," he said thinly as he handed it over.

 

"Service with a smile," Jack retorted. "Want to tell me where to go?"

 

A muscle twitched in the man's face. Jack smirked. Apparently the man wanted to tell him exactly where to go but didn't dare.

 

"Up the stairs to the third floor. Follow the hallway. It's on the right."

 

"Thank you."

 

************************

 

The sound of a door opening set Daniel's pulse racing. The handcuffs jangled as he tugged instinctively against their restraint despite having already convinced himself struggling to free himself would only result in raw wrists. A powerful beam of light swept the room and then shone directly into his eyes, making him curse and turn his head away. Almost immediately the light was extinguished, plunging him back into absolute darkness, the aftershock still dancing across his retinas. Daniel bit down on the urge to blurt out a demand - to know who was there. That was what they wanted, what they would expect. Well, he wasn't going to play the game.

 

For several long minutes he sat through the silence, every nerve in his body thrumming in anticipation of the unknown. Ears straining, he desperately tried to identify where his visitor had gone - a whisper of cloth to his right, the softest of footfalls to his left. Was there just one person? Or two? Maybe three? He swallowed hard - fearing a fist in his guts or a slap across his face. Or worse.

 

The flashlight blazed again, barely inches from his face, blinding him; the brightness relaying fresh pain into his skull and notching his headache a few degrees higher.

 

"Hello, Doctor Jackson." A man's voice, low and quiet, the accent a soft Scottish lilt.

 

Don't reply. Don’t reply! Maintain some level of control over the situation. Refuse to play the game… A hand tangled into his hair, yanking him upwards, giving him no choice but to get to his feet, his knees scraping against the rough ground beneath him. As the hand released him, Daniel stumbled backwards; rough brickwork grazed the bare skin of his back but prevented him from falling. The solidity of the wall was too tempting to resist in his weakened state. He rested his right shoulder on its cold surface, twisting his body round and hunching over. The body language both signalled submission and offered a smaller target should his kidnapper decide to start hitting him. Plus, it got his face out of that damned light.

 

"That's better." The voice was little more than a whisper, the tone malevolent. "Don't you know it's rude to stay seated when someone enters a room?"

 

"What do you want?" Shit! The words escaped Daniel despite his intentions. The fear in his voice was painfully obvious to his ears. Double shit! Giving himself away here.

 

"What do I want." The statement was voiced with a thoughtful slowness as though it hadn't occurred to the invisible figure that he might desire something of Daniel. There was a heavy pause, and then, "What I want is information, Doctor."

 

Information? Daniel felt a flood of relief at knowing he could actually provide something other than body parts. Almost instantly, though, the question of exactly what information might be required came to mind, and with it the unwelcome conclusion that his refusal to deliver might still result in him losing vital bits of his anatomy.

 

"Cat got your tongue, Jackson?" The silence stretched again before the voice continued. "Perhaps I'd better explain how things are going to work, then you can reconsider your silence. See, I'm going to ask you few questions. You are then going to give me answers I like. Eventually I give you back your clothes and you go free."

 

Daniel swallowed. "And if you don't like the answers I give?"

 

A soft laugh stole out from behind the light. "Trust me, doctor, you want to give me answers I like. The alternative… well, let's just say, your life will become very unpleasant."

 

**********************************

 

It took all of a minute to search Daniel's room.

 

Jack made a direct line to Daniel's holdall. "Shirts - blue, white, plaid." He threw the last one in the direction of the waste basket. "Time he got rid of that." Impatiently he upended the bag. Wads of hundred dollar bills spilled over the rumpled bedspread. "Whoa! Found the cash. Guess we can safely assume he hasn't been mugged and left lying in an alley somewhere." 

 

Carter pulled Daniel's passport from the desk drawer. "Well, at least he hasn't left the country," she said, waving it at Jack.

 

"Finally managed to say something optimistic, Carter. Congratulations."

 

She ignored him as Janet returned from the small en-suite bathroom. "Razor and toothbrush."

 

Jack glanced up and caught the expression on Fraiser's face. "And?"

 

"There's a wet shirt hung to dry. Daniel wouldn't win any awards for laundry skills."

 

Jack winced. "He's been throwing up?"

 

Janet nodded. "The ribbon device always makes him sick. I was prescribing compazine for him. Chances are without it…"

 

"Damn." Jack sat on the bed and ran a hand over his chin, feeling the stubble. "Well, unless Daniel turns up, there's not a whole hell of a lot we can do until the morning."

 

Another nod from Janet. "I suggest we all try and get some sleep."

 

"I will watch over this room," Teal'c announced.

 

"No need," Jack replied immediately. "I'll crash here."

 

As the rest of the team made their way to their own rooms, Jack shoved the money back into the holdall. Collapsing fully dressed onto the bed, he stared up at the ceiling, his heart heavy. His annoyance at the fruitless search was beginning to dissipate; fear starting to creep into its place. Plumping up the pillow, he caught sight of a single dark blonde hair - one of Daniel's. He held it to the light, staring at it as though it could somehow reveal the answers to his question. "Where the hell are you, Daniel? You're scaring me here, buddy. And unlike you - my hair is quite grey enough."

 

*****************

 

Daniel slid wearily down the wall to a sitting position as his captor left him alone. Pulling his knees up to his chest, he rested his forehead on them; his hands were still cuffed behind his back, the fire in his shoulders reminding him they had been held in the unnatural position far too long.

 

He breathed out a long sigh of relief, only to have it turn into a cough. Great, that was all he needed. His chest was beginning to hurt, and his throat was sore. He was no longer sure if he was shivering from the icy cold of his surroundings or if the ache in his muscles was the precursor of a fever. Add to that the insistent throbbing in his head. Oh puh-leeze. This was not the time to get sick!

 

Daniel emitted a low soft groan of self-pity. He'd really got himself into a mess this time. At least he hadn't told his kidnapper anything of value. Now if he could just figure out who had grabbed him.

 

Sarah. All the questions had been about Sarah; making him go over and over the story of her death. So far he was sure he hadn't wavered from the official line.

 

Maybe it was the NID. Now that Makepeace was gone, chances were they didn't have a direct line into the SGC. And if all they had was the cover story…

 

But this didn't have the hallmarks of an NID job. For one thing he was sitting here unharmed. Cold, miserable, feeling as sick as a dog, yes. But his interrogator hadn't laid a finger on him. And, most telling of all, nobody had stuck any needles in him. If the NID wanted answers they'd have pumped him full of truth serum at the first opportunity. So…

 

Daniel sighed. His only clues to his captor's identity were the gentle Scottish lilt of the voice and the line of questioning. Neither of which told him very much. Right now, the only other explanation he could come up with was that he was in the hands of some crazy journalist, out to get a story by whatever means necessary. In which case, the guy was out of luck. Daniel wasn't about to provide the scoop of the century. Unless of course adding his dead body to the list of those already tainted by the Osiris curse pushed the story into the headlines.

 

Stop it! He reined in his morbid fantasy. Think positive. He'd been in worse scrapes. He'd escaped from Hell after all. Compared to that, this was… a walk in the park. He just needed to think. Somehow he'd find a way out. So what next? Daniel tugged at the handcuffs. No way they were coming off. The upbeat direction of his thoughts plunged to the depths again. Seemed his options were pretty much zero.

 

He pulled his knees closer to his chest, shivering more violently as the adrenaline rush from the interrogation calmed and the icy cold of his surroundings bit into his naked skin. There was still one faint hope. Maybe. Just maybe. Jack would come looking for him. Yeah, right. Except you've gone to great lengths to cover your tracks, Jackson. Shot yourself nicely in the foot….

 

******************

 

Jack pushed his untouched breakfast to one side and poured himself a second cup of coffee. Seven in the morning and still no Daniel. Across the table from him, Fraiser and Carter were poking at plates of scrambled eggs, displaying about the same amount of enthusiasm for food as he felt and both wearing glum expressions that perfectly summed up the sombre mood of the group. Only Teal'c was eating; mechanically working his way through a large plate of eggs and bacon. Lift, chew, swallow. Lift, chew, swallow. Jaffa training…

 

Jack shook his head, suddenly irritated with his own thoughts. Time to act.

 

"Okay, here's what we do."

 

Three forks hit the table. Apparently everyone - even Teal'c - was glad of an excuse to stop the charade of eating breakfast.

 

"Teal'c, you stay here in case Daniel shows. Carter, get yourself to the nearest police station and make a missing person report. Janet, you're with me."

 

The doctor raised a questioning eyebrow. "The Gardners?"

 

Jack nodded. "They saw Daniel last. They're our best lead."

 

************************

 

Part 2