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

"No!" Sam screamed the word as she rounded the shelter and saw the deadly tableau playing in front of her. A clear shot! She had a clear shot - but... was that a knife? What if... No, no time to think... Mustn't miss. Please God, don't let this miss.

Her hand flew up, her weapon already charged, her finger tightening on the trigger. Beside her, she heard Teal'c shout a negative - blue sparked from her zat as his hand impacted hers. What the hell? Why was he trying...? Oh God! As her hand jerked back up, preparing to deliver the second shot - the killing shot - to Daniel's attacker, she saw the first charge curl around her target, arcing across the man's shoulders and racing downwards - downwards over Daniel's back. The horror at what she had almost done crashed over her just as a sharp crack sounded next to her left ear. Daniel's attacker jerked violently and then collapsed to the floor, the electric charge still sizzling blue over both bodies. Shocked Sam's attention snapped to Teal'c, her gaze fastening on the small firearm in the Jaffa's hand. Behind her, Coburn was looking as shocked as she felt, staring as his empty right hand as though wondering where the hell his weapon had vanished too.

"Teal'c..." She didn't know what to say, the shock of the last few seconds almost overloading brain. Her right arm dropped to her side, the zat gun suddenly a deadweight. She'd nearly...

"Major Carter, we are about to be attacked." Teal'c's calm analysis of the situation snapped her back to reality.

The gathered mob wheeled round, saw the source of the deadly energy, and panicked. As some took flight, others hurled themselves in a crazed frenzy at the newcomers only to become victims of the zat.

Trying to disable rather than kill, Sam took out four prisoners with neat, efficient shooting, then felled a fifth with a powerful blow to his jaw as he tried to grab at her. Breathing heavily, she was finally able to focus her attention on her fallen team mates.

"Colonel! Daniel!" Sam covered the distance to them at a sprint, following Teal'c and with Janet and Brell barely a step behind her. Further back, Major Coburn held at bay those prisoners brave enough or curious enough to have followed them from the chute.

As Teal'c automatically took guard, Brell pulled to a halt beside him, apparently too wary of the Jaffa to approach any further. Sam handed him her zat and dropped to her knees beside the two men. O'Neill was sprawled protectively across Daniel; the younger man curled in a defensive ball. Neither appeared conscious. Daniel's attacker lay dead, face up and open-eyed with a contorted expression of pained surprise, one leg intruding into the intimate tangle of her team mates. Blood trickled from the neat round hole in the centre of his forehead.

As Sam reached out a tentative hand towards the colonel, Janet dropped down to the other side of the men, and the two women exchanged a look - one that telegraphed both fear and concern.

"I hit Daniel with the zat." Sam forced the words out, feeling physically sick.

Janet glanced at her sharply. "You saved his life, Sam. Now I'm going to need your help here."

"I... I can't."

"You must!" Janet's eyes narrowed. "I need you. They need you."

Sam swallowed hard and, with effort, pushed her unwelcome thoughts away; there would time enough to dwell on those later. "Just tell me what to do."

Janet nodded and then reached out a hand and gently touched O'Neill's shoulder. "Colonel O'Neill? Colonel O'Neill. It's me. Janet Fraiser."

No response. Sam felt her stomach contract in trepidation. Glancing up at Janet, she nodded as the doctor indicated they should roll O'Neill over, but as Sam gripped his shoulders he suddenly flared into action, flailing out at her with his right hand as he flipped onto his back.

Knocked off balance by a wild arm impacting with her upper chest, Sam hit the floor on her side, pulling in a shuddery breath as Janet took charge.

The doctor hastily squirmed around Daniel and positioned herself on her knees above O'Neill's head, leaning over him. "Colonel O'Neill!" Her hands gripped either side of his face. "It's Janet Fraiser. Colonel!"

Sam felt relief wash over her as O'Neill opened his eyes, blinking in confusion. She saw Janet's gaze sweep him from head to foot, clearly checking for obvious injuries.

"Are you hurt anywhere, Colonel?" Janet asked.

As O'Neill continued to stare at Janet, Brell answered. "He was stabbed a couple of days back. The wound isn't life-threatening, but the infection could be."

"Janet?" O'Neill struggled to lift his head off the floor as she released her grip.

"Carter?" He blinked with obvious confusion. "That you?"

"It's us, Sir." Sam gave him an encouraging smile, suddenly realising she was still sporting long brown hair, but the colonel's gaze had already drifted.

"Daniel..." he began.

Janet was already moving, apparently satisfied O'Neill wasn't about to die on her. "Checking him out now." Gently she rolled him on to his back,. "He's unconscious."

As Janet expertly began to check Daniel over, Sam caught sight of Brell, as the woman dropped down beside O'Neill with obvious familiarity.

Apparently oblivious to the scrutiny Brell shook her head at the colonel in good-natured disapproval. "You're one stubborn son-of-a-bitch, O'Neill."

Memories of Laira instantly curled from the past, but Sam angrily shoved them away, giving her attention back to Daniel.

"Internal injury," O'Neill whispered, rolling onto his side with a pained grimace. As three worried expressions focused on him, he hastily added. "Not me. Daniel."

Janet acknowledged the information with a nod. Pushing up Daniel's T-shirt, skilful fingers probed his abdomen and chest. "Sam, help me roll him. Not right over - just enough to see where this bruising goes." She indicated a patch or purple and yellow creeping around Daniel's left hip.

Ever the professional, Janet didn't react visibly to the sight that greeted her, but Sam muttered a soft curse as she saw the severity of the bruising on Daniel's lower back. She was no medical expert, but the obvious signs of physical abuse, coupled with O'Neill's warning of internal injuries, set off all her alarm bells. She rocked back on her heels, trying to be patient as Janet resumed her examination.

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

Suddenly everyone is busy. Carter and Janet are fussing over Daniel. Teal'c and Coburn are debating how best to move him - I hear their voices, low and anxious, the word 'chute' frequently repeated. And me? I'm lying here feeling as weak as a day old kitten and trying not to break down with relief at the knowledge my team is here.

Teal'c. Carter. Janet. Coburn. Rescue. I repeat the word over in my mind, savouring it. Rescue. I can't quite believe it. For some crazy reason, fate has ordained that my ass be pulled out of the fire again. Not that it didn't let me get damn well singed first though. And Daniel... God, his ass has been really fried. But we're alive. Thank God. We're alive. And now Janet's here, we're going to stay that way. You hear that Daniel? Don't you dare die on me now.

I suddenly realise Brell is watching me, but I can't quite figure out her expression, whether the smile on her face is one of admiration, exasperation or just plain 'glad to see you' relief. I decide it doesn't matter. What's important is that Daniel and I are getting the hell out of this shithole. Teal'c and Coburn are figuring it out right now - something about a stretcher for Daniel. They mention the chute again. Then the ship. Ship?

I motion to Brell. "They've got a ship?"

She nods.

"Ship as in... space ship or sailing ship?"

She shrugs and repeats the question to Carter.

"Space ship," Carter says. I raise my eyebrows in question and she obediently spills more information. "We're in orbit around Evesa's third moon." Her attention flicks straight back to Daniel.

In orbit? I try to absorb the information, managing a rather pathetic, "Oh."

Brell, however, doesn't seem to find the information in any way odd, so I quickly decide I'm sure as hell not going to either. It's not like I haven't been rescued via space ship before. There was that shuttle right after that little run in with Apophis. I stop that line of thought before it goes any further, remembering all too clearly how I'd believed Daniel hadn't made it back from that one. Well, he's making it back from this one. With me. Right where I can see him.

"You're going home, O'Neill." Brell squeezes my shoulder with something that seems dangerously close to affection.

"Gonna miss me?"

"After the hell you've put me through?" She smiles. "Yeah. I'm gonna miss you."

"Come with us." The words are out of my mouth almost before I've registered them.

Brell blinks at me in surprise. "What?"

What? Good question. I must be nuts... but what the heck? She deserves a break, even if she did let Daniel go on that idiot's mission, sacrificing himself to Kai. Can hardly blame her for that. When Daniel gets an idea into his head, nobody can stop him seeing it through. God knows, I've tried often enough. I repeat the offer louder. "Come with us."

She stares at me for a long moment. The surprise turning to delight and then... then she shakes her head. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm serious."

"You're delirious, more like."

I open my mouth to protest again, but she puts a finger to my lips, silencing me.

"Think about it, O'Neill. I'm a convicted murderer. I deserve to be here."

"But..."

"Where would I go? You think the Evesal authorities would welcome me back?" She shakes her head, but then smiles and looks around at the shelters. "Kai's dead. Shotak too. I know it sounds crazy but there's a chance for someone to pull this place together. Stop all this pointless feuding."

"Prison reform?" I raise my eyebrows and chuckle at the thought. "You're not serious? What about Migra?"

"He'll see things my way, wait and see." She looks at me fondly, but there's a sadness in her eyes. "What was it you said when you first landed up here? I've made my bed, now I have to lie in it."

I don't know why but I still can't let it go. "You sometimes get the chance to make another bed."

She laughs softly, "You finally propositioning me, O'Neill?"

Behind her I can see Carter leaning over Daniel. I pull my attention back to Brell. "I've had worse ideas."

She leans over me then and gently kisses my forehead, whispering in my ear. "You're definitely delirious. But it's a damn good fantasy. One I'll savour."

My chuckle dies in my throat as I see Janet's head lift. Oh no! I really don't want to see that expression. "Janet?"

She ignores me, looking instead at Brell. "Are there any medical facilities here?"

Brell shakes her head and Janet's gaze swivels to me, the emotional pain in them all too evident. Eyes glistening with imminent tears, she opens her mouth to speak, but no words come. I've never seen Janet Fraiser cry. To be honest I'm not sure I've even seen her close to tears. In public she's always one hundred percent professional. My gaze drifts to Daniel's battered face, denial coiling ready in my mind for whatever news she's going to deliver.

Carter's voice, low and emotional, fills the silence. "Janet?"

Janet looks away, pulls in a breath - her professional façade snaps back into place so fast it's almost audible. "Daniel has internal injuries. He needs urgent surgery." Her eyes hold mine, as though drawing strength from me, although God knows I don't have any - not for this. "He won't survive the two-day journey back to Evesa."

I close my eyes, trying to shut out the words. No way! I won't believe it. Not after all we've been through. Daniel is not going to die. No. No. No!

Guilt washes over me, the thought that I'm going to make it, while Daniel... My mind swirls, desperately trying to come up with a solution.... a passing Tok'ra... an over-looked Stargate... a miracle... Please, God?

"I can get you back to Evesa in less than two days."

My eyes fly open and I'm staring at Brell in complete and utter astonishment. "Did you just say...?"

"I can get you back? Yes."

"How?" Carter sounds incredulous. Can't say I blame her. I feel as though I've been slammed about the head one way by Janet and then whacked back the other by Brell. Perhaps Brell was right earlier? I'm delirious. None of this is real. Any minute now I'll wake up and...

"Long story." Brell throws the reply at Carter and then addresses Janet. "Just how much time do we have?"

Looking as stunned as I feel, Janet considers for a moment. "Six... maybe eight hours. Any longer than that and..." She gives a slight shake of her head.

The news apparently suits Brell's plans though. She indicates Kai's shelter. "Let's get out of sight. We can turn one of the pallets into a stretcher for Daniel while somebody retrieves Jeneath."

"Jeneath? What the hell do we need him for?" Carter demands.

"He's important," Brell replies icily, adding quickly as Carter opens her mouth to protest, "Look I could explain, but I don't have the time... or rather, Daniel doesn't. You just have to trust me, okay?"

"Funny, that's what Jeneath said right before he betrayed us," Carter retorts, her gaze sliding to me for direction. I give her a quick nod, okaying Brell. In response Carter's eyes narrow, apparently she doesn't like the idea one bit, but she says nothing.

Brell is still talking. "Yeah, well. Fortunately this time you've struck it lucky. I really am one of the good guys. Now if you two fix the stretcher..." she turns to Teal'c, her earlier wariness apparently forgotten. "Perhaps you and your friend here could collect Jeneath for me?" Her nod includes Coburn.

Now Teal'c glances towards me.

"Yes, she's one of the good guys," I confirm. "Do whatever she says."

He inclines his head with typical graciousness before moving off, and Brell finally turns her attention to me. "Need a hand up, O'Neill?"

"I'd prefer an explanation," I reply, nevertheless holding out my hand for her assistance.

With a smile she slips one hand beneath my armpit and hauls me to my feet, sliding her body under my arm before I have chance to embarrass myself by falling over. Her voice is little more than a whisper "Time isn't the only reason I didn't get into explanations, O'Neill. There's a lot riding on what I do next."

"I just signed my team over to you," I point out testily. "Figure that earns me a bit of trust."

She hesitates and then sighs. "Oh, what the hell. You'll find out sooner or later. Just keep this quiet 'til we're out of here, okay?" I nod quickly and she goes on. "Would it come as a big surprise to know I'm as military as you are, O'Neill?"

"As a matter of fact... yes," I say slowly, trying to swallow yet another bit of surprise news. "Isn't prison a rather unusual tour of duty?"

"Not when it's stuffed full of political dissidents and your mission is to report any snippets of potentially useful information."

"Oh." I manage to look at her as we slowly move towards the shelter. "Undercover operation?"

She nods. "And my employers won't be too pleased if I blow my cover. But if I can 'escape' with you then no one here needs suspect a thing. And I just might be forgiven for cutting the mission short if I deliver a catch like Jeneath. Hell, I might even persuade them to let you and Daniel go."

"Quite the little Miss Fix It." I can't seem to shift the feeling of unreality that's settled around me like a warm blanket. Shaking my head slightly, I ask what I suspect is going to be a dumb question. "So all that stuff about staying, and prison reform?"

"Funny how quickly things change, huh?" She glances over her shoulder, back towards Daniel. "Guess I've got kind of fond of your boy. And since I feel more than a bit responsible for the state he's in..."

As we reach the door of the shelter, Carter and Janet bustle out with partly dismantled pallet and strips of torn blanket. Brell frowns. "What's with the blanket?"

"Safety straps," Janet replies, adding quickly as Brell's frown deepens. "For Daniel's protection. The last thing he needs is another tumble. And since I can't guarantee he'll stay unconscious..."

Brell nods, shifts her grip around my waist and helps me inside. As she settles me on a pallet, something else crosses my mind. I reach out and grab her right arm, running my finger over the skin of her implant. "Let me guess. A fake?"

She doesn't deny it. "I was worried Jackson might've figured that one out. He was asking questions and... Well, to be honest, I get the impression he may be too smart for his own good sometimes."

"You noticed that, huh?" Before I can comment further, Carter and Janet carry Daniel into the shelter. He starts to stir almost before they've set him down, and Janet bends over him, one hand soothing his forehead.

"Daniel? Daniel, can you hear me?"

His eyelids flicker and then open.

She smiles encouragingly. "It's me. Janet. Don't try to move, okay. We've got you on a stretcher. We're going to get you out of here. Daniel? Do you understand?"

"Janet?" He whispers her name, disbelief in his tone.

Really need a rain check on this feeling of unreality. Got to do something for Daniel other than just lie here feeling sorry for him. I catch Brell's attention, get her to help me to my feet and make it to Daniel's side as quickly as I can.

"Hey, big fella. How you doing?" He looks awful. Skin far too pale, dark shadows beneath his eyes. The bruising on his face seeming even more livid against his ashen complexion, and pain is etched across his features as clearly as if someone had stamped the word on his forehead.

"Jack?" He blinks at me, looks back at Janet, and then focuses on me again. "Over?"

I frown, not sure what he means.

He swallows, grimaces and then tries again. "Is... it... over? Home?"

There's such a longing in the last word, I feel the emotion arc right through me; a primal need that I would give anything to fulfil for him. I reach for his hand, find myself hampered by the makeshift restraints, but manage to curl my fingers around one of his thumbs. I give it a fierce squeeze. "Yes, Daniel. We're going home."

"Thank you." The words ride on an appreciative sigh, and he closes his eyes again.

Thank you? Christ, Daniel. I'm the last person you should be thanking. I turn worried eyes on Janet, but she gives me a reassuring look. "He'll probably drift in and out of consciousness." She strokes his forehead once more and then turns her full attention to me, suddenly brisk and business-like. "Now, Colonel O'Neill, I think it's high time I checked you over thoroughly. To be perfectly frank you look like shit."

"That a medical term, doctor?"

"Not exactly." She smiles, then adds firmly. "But my medical advice is for you to get off your feet and back on that pallet."

Before I have chance to move, Teal'c and Coburn return with a wiry fellow firmly held in their grasp. They deposit him on the floor at Brell's feet and he topples over, revealing bound hands.

Coburn gives him a disgusted look. "He's all yours."

Brell doesn't look at him, turning instead to the rest of us. "Okay, here's the plan."

The plan turns out to be remarkably simple. One - get to the chute. Two - get up the chute and into the ship. Three - get the hell off this godforsaken lump of metal. Well, it sounds simple if you say it quickly and don't think about the 300-odd deranged prisoners between us and the chute.

Oh yes, there is a step four; something about Brell getting someone to pick us up using a top secret space vessel. Problem is, before she starts on the details, my unreality rain check decides to cash itself in. The shelter does a sickening loop around my head, and I suddenly find my nose has got up close and personal with the shelter floor. Shit!

"Colonel!" Carter is at my side, peering at me anxiously.

I peer back, and something finally dawns on me. "What the hell happened to your hair?"

"My hair?" She doesn't answer, glancing instead over my head and then slipping a hand under my armpit. Someone's else's hand slides beneath my other arm, and then whoa... The shelter really does loop as I'm picked up and dumped less than ceremoniously on the pallet.

"Colonel O'Neill. Why did you not tell us you were unwell?" Teal'c's voice sounds close to my left ear.

"Actually, Teal'c..." I hear Brell say something about a second stretcher. Oh no! No way in hell am I being stretchered out of here. I push myself up onto one elbow and find I'm now nose-to-nose with Fraiser.

Her hand feels up forehead. "You're burning up, colonel."

Smart woman, our doctor. I pull my face away. "I'll be fine. Just give me a minute or two."

She backs off with a frown and addresses Brell. "The sooner we get out of here..."

Brell nods. "No time like the present. O'Neill, you up to walking?"

"Yeah." I scrub a hand over my face. Truth is, I'm not sure how the hell I'm going to persuade my body to get off the pallet, but I'm way too stubborn to admit it. Fortunately Teal'c seems to be not only reading my mind, but is sympathetic to my plight.

"I will assist O'Neill," he says in a tone that defies anyone to argue with him.

Moments later we set off. Teal'c has one arm around my waist, taking more of my weight than I'd care to admit. We both have zats although the chances of me hitting anything intentionally are remote, my vision has developed an interesting special effect, nothing seems to be quite in focus. Brell is leading the way, Janet's zat gun in her hand, while Janet and Sam carry an unconscious Daniel on the make-shift stretcher. Bringing up the rear is Coburn - his face as rigid and set as Teal'c's, defying anyone to mess with us.

Fortunately the prison grapevine has done its work. Those prisoners brave or curious enough to pay us any attention take one look at the wrong end of the zats and slink back into the shadows, letting us reach the chute without incident.

At Brell's suggestion, Coburn is the first one into the chute, his mission to locate and destroy the beam mechanism. Five minutes later we hear the double discharge of a zat and then Coburn slides back down and give the all clear. Even so, I can feel the cold prickle of fear at the back of my neck when I step into the recess. A couple of seconds of that beam was more than enough in my opinion; I definitely don't want a repeat performance. Coburn has done his job though, and I set about doing mine - climbing up the smooth surface of the chute.

Ever tried to climb up a kid's slide? Well, think 200 feet, steeply angled and as smooth as glass. Then add in the fact I feel like shit and have about the same amount of energy as... a three-day-old piece of celery. I make it up 30 feet before my knees decide this is a game they don't want to play. Exit one cursing colonel in an ungainly tumble of limbs.

The team has a quick debate over the top of my head as I organise myself into something resembling a human body. Two legs, feet pointing forward. Arms still in sockets. Knee bone connected to the thigh bone... the thigh bone connected to the...

"Colonel O'Neill?" Janet's face appears right in front of me, her expression concerned. Her voice has a distant echo to it, and I swear she has three eyes - one of them bang smack above her nose. A small part of my brain, the part that is registering the feverish ache in my muscles, tells me I'm losing it. The other part - the much bigger part - doesn't give a damn.

"Janet?" I wonder if I ought to tell her she's growing extra body parts. Then again she probably knows. Damn woman always claims to have eyes in the back of her head. I try to focus on her lips, all four of them, as she speaks.

"We're going to get Daniel up first, then bring the stretcher back for you."

I frown, hold up my right hand and waggle my index finger back and forth. "No stretcher. I'm fine."

"Humour me, colonel."

I shake my head, about to protest, but the world does another one of those crazy looping things and the accompanying dizziness and nausea is almost overwhelming. I try to focus on Janet - uncertain which of the two versions I can now see is actually the real one. "A stretcher sounds... great."

Following a lot of huffing and puffing from Teal'c and Coburn, I'm in the stomach of a small space craft. Janet hurries over to me with a hypodermic in her hand.

"Found this in the ship's medkit," she says, swabbing at my arm before I can protest. Well, to be honest I can't protest seeing how I'm still tied into this damn stretcher. Janet babbles on, clearly glad to be able to do something useful at last. "Brell says it helped before. From what I can gather it's some kind of antibiotic mixed with..."

As she moves into medicalese, my gaze drifts past her to Daniel. He's lying on a narrow mattress positioned against one wall, a pillow beneath his head and a blanket up to his shoulders. Looks likes he's conscious again. Carter is gently rubbing his shoulder, talking as she does so, but I can't make out the words from here. What I can see is that Daniel is obviously in pain.

My gaze flicks back to Janet. "That medkit got any painkiller in it?"

She nods. "You need something?"

"Not me. Daniel."

"Oh." A guilty look sweeps over her face. "I'm afraid Daniel's going to have to grin and bear it. Brell doesn't know enough about to convince me any potential side-effects won't make his condition worse."

"You didn't bring anything through the 'Gate?"

Janet shakes her head. "We were information gathering. Figured my wandering about with a medical bag might look a bit odd." My expression must give me away because she quietly adds, "I know. I hate seeing him like that too."

"Let me out of this thing, will you? I need to talk to him."

Janet nods and sets to work on the home-made straps while I pass the time checking out the rest of the crew. Jeneath is huddled in one corner, a belligerent look on his face. Brell, Teal'c and Coburn are trying to figure out the ship's control panel - Brell complaining loud that she really should've done the history of space flight course. I smile at her sarcasm - seems I'm rubbing off on her. However, her claim that she can call up a rescue ship - a state-of-the-art rescue ship - doesn't fill me with confidence. I'm trying really hard not to think about the fact our preliminary reports suggested Evesal space science wasn't much in advance of Earth's. Funny how my fever-ridden mind can still manage to throw up unwelcome information. Well, I'm not playing that game... if Brell says she can get us back to Evesa in record speed than I am not going to question it - just in case saying it out loud makes it reality. Optimistic, that's me - the new Jack O'Neill. No more worse case scenarios. Well, at least not until Daniel is safe and sound...

A sudden scrabbling noise from the open airlock draws my attention, and I turn my head to see two prisoners are already in the ship and a third is about to exit the chute. For crying out loud! Didn't anyone think... I shout a warning, frustrated to find I'm still half-tied into the stretcher and far too weak and unarmed to act even if I weren't. Fortunately Coburn is none of these. Snatching up his zat gun he takes the prisoners out with brisk efficiency then, with Teal'c's help, tosses the writhing bodies back down the chute. From the grunts and groans that reach the airlock, those three were just an advance party. Coburn slams down the cover, then swears. "It won't seal."

"The hatch might not, but the airlock door will," Carter comments.

Teal'c strides back to the control panel, then turns towards Jeneath. "Which button?"

Jeneath gives him a cold look, and says nothing. In response, Teal'c stalks back to the airlock, grabs what looks like a crowbar and returns to stand menacingly over Jeneath.

"Which button?" he repeats.

Jeneath swallows hard, his bravado vanishing. "Third row, four in from the right."

Brell reaches for it and then hesitates. "How do we know we can trust him? It might be a self-destruct?"

"It will be what he says," Teal'c replies, his gaze resting on Jeneath with unveiled contempt. "He does not have the courage for self-sacrifice."

"I hope you're right," Brell replies softly, pressing the button. She sighs slightly as the airlock door begins to move into place, but then is instantly business-like again. "Okay, I think I've sussed the communication link." She glances towards Teal'c. "Do you think you can figure out how to fly this thing?"

Teal'c's response is to drop one hand on Jeneath's shoulder, haul the Evesal to the control panel and deposit him in the pilot's seat. "He will fly. I will supervise."

Brell smiles. "Okay. Get us off this station and head towards the moon." She turns towards the communication device, dons earphones and mouthpiece and starts sending out some kind of coded verbal message.

As the engines rumble beneath us, I realise Janet has finished loosening the restraints. I roll off the stretcher onto the floor and squirm over to Daniel, trying not to notice Carter's raised eyebrows at what is no doubt a less than dignified sight. Not that I really give a damn about my dignity right now. I'm more concerned about Daniel, who looks even worse close up. I give him a sympathetic smile "How's it going?"

He blinks up at me. "Oh. You know..." The words are breathed with a pained weariness. "Been better. You?"

"Been better." I settle myself on the floor next to him as Carter climbs to her feet and heads towards what looks like a closet. Moments later she's back, towing another narrow mattress and a pillow.

She gives me a wry smile. "Not exactly up to infirmary standards, but it beats the floor."

I roll out of the way as she drops the mattress next to Daniel, and then with minimal grace and elegance roll myself onto it. Carter slips a pillow under my head and then moves away, apparently sensing I want to be alone with Daniel. I gaze up at the ceiling for a long moment, not knowing what to say. Eventually I manage a sparkling open gambit. "Green. The ceiling's green."

"Yeah," Daniel says. "I noticed that."

"Makes a change from grey."

Daniel turns his head slightly, gives me an odd look and then contemplates the ceiling. " We should... put in a request." He pulls in a laboured breath. "For the... infirmary... ceiling..." Another breath rasps nosily. "Better than grey."

I nod. "Yellow? Always liked yellow."

Daniel pulls in another breath. "Yellow's good." He closes his eyes.

"Daniel?"

"Yeah?"

"We're going to get help. You've got to hang on for just a little while longer."

"Not... going anywhere, Jack."

"Promise?"

His lips twitch with just a hint of a smile. "You think I'm... going to give up my... boots... after all this?"

I smile and give his shoulder a gentle squeeze, appreciative of the effort it's costing him to speak. For the first time in far too long we settle into what I hope is a companionable silence, conserving energy and content to just be at each other's side.

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

Forty minutes pass. I know that isn't really a long time, but when your best friend is lying on the floor next to you slowly bleeding to death it can seem like an eternity. How do I know it's forty minutes? Well, one, because I've requisitioned Carter's watch, and two, because Coburn seems to think he's the speaking clock I swear if he announces the time once more Teal'c is going to deck him.

Every few minutes one or other of the women checks on Daniel. Janet reassuring him he's going to be just fine, despite the fact I can see from her face she's less than convinced. And if I can see it, I'm pretty damn sure Daniel can sense it, even if he does have his eyes closed more often than not. Carter doesn't say much, preferring to let him know she's there with soothing touches. And then there's Brell, who sounds more like a drill sergeant with her brusque instructions to him to hold on, but I know she's as concerned as any of us. I don't miss the way Teal'c's gaze constantly drifts towards Daniel either, and Coburn... well, like I said Coburn has become our resident time keeper and if that doesn't shout concern I don't know what the hell does. In fact, the only one who doesn't give a damn is Jeneath, but since we don't give a damn about him, that seems fair.

I'm just about to ask Brell what the hell is taking so long with her rescue plan, when I catch sight of a golden wingtip rising from the bottom of the front window. I stare at it in disbelief as more and more of the ship comes into view. "Errrr... Carter?"

She staring too, and she answers me over her shoulder. "Sir?"

"Isn't that..."

"A Tok'ra vessel. Yes, Sir."

Brell gives us a sharp look. "You know of the Tok'ra."

Carter nods. "I asked them for help when the colonel and Daniel were first imprisoned. They didn't admit to having a ship in the area."

Brell smiled slyly. "They don't." As both Carter and I raise our eyebrows, she goes on. "We... requisitioned it. They weren't very pleased."

Carter blows out a surprised breath. "I can imagine."

Brell glances in her direction, her voice cool. "Personally I thought the Tok'ra should've been grateful we returned their agent to them. My government doesn't take kindly to spies, no matter how well-intentioned their interests in us may have been." Before Carter can make any further comment, Brell busies herself with the communication device, her conversation once more unintelligible. After a couple of moments, the Tok'ra ship rises out of sight, presumably settling above us.

"Transportation rings?" I ask.

Brell nods. "Doctor Fraiser, Major Carter. You two go first with Daniel. The rest of us will follow."

I watch with relief as they move Daniel and his stretcher to the centre of the hold, disappearing moments later in a rush of light and noise.

"And now us," Brell says, helping me to my feet.

The five of us - Teal'c, Coburn, Jeneath, Brell and myself - form a tight circle and in the blink of an eye we're standing in the familiar surroundings of a Tok'ra scout ship come Evesal military flagship. We really are going home.

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

Well, when I say home, I mean home eventually. First stop is Evesa. After three hours and twenty-five minutes stuck in the small, over-crowded vessel, Fraiser is just about bouncing off the walls with nervous tension, her concern for Daniel increasing with every moment. Daniel himself is oblivious to it all, having slipped back into unconsciousness soon after we transferred. I console myself with the fact he isn't in pain, but to be honest I'd rather he was awake and lucid than lying there looking like he's only one breath this side of life.

The ship is manned by four Evesal military officers, who greeted Brell with a rousing cheer, clapping her on the back and congratulating her for sticking the mission for so long, before two of them transported back to the runabout to pilot it home. As they catch sight of Jeneath, their eyes light up and they take malicious delight in telling him about the interrogation they have planned. I'm extremely grateful not to be in his shoes - by the sounds of it, I had it easy. The unwelcome memory of Daniel's bruised torso leaps to mind. I must have a word with Hammond about introducing the Evesal's to the concept behind the Geneva convention.

Unfortunately Carter's questions about a goa'uld healing device meet with nothing but blank stares. The medkit does provide an IV, which Janet promptly puts too good use providing Daniel with much needed fluids, but it doesn't alter the fact that what he needs is surgery - and soon.

Three hours and twenty-five minutes, plus the forty or so minutes we've already spent on Jeneath's runabout... we're cutting it mighty damn fine towards Janet's six hour warning.

No surprise then that Janet and Brell hit Evesa running. In one crazy blur of action, Daniel is whisked away by an Evesal medical team in what I guess you could loosely describe as a helicopter, Janet and Brell riding shotgun; Janet to oversee the operation and Brell to make sure the Evesal authorities won't pull any dumb stunts, like reneging on their offer of medical assistance or tossing Daniel into some godforsaken cell somewhere. Not that I figure either of those scenarios will happen. Brell spent a large part of the flight in contact with the authorities on the planet surface explaining all that had gone on.

The moment we're clear of the Tok'ra vessel, Carter and Coburn, intent on contacting the SGC, promptly disappear with two more Evesal military before I can raise any objection to the team splitting up. Excuse me guys, but that's not a good idea. If you'd all just wait for five goddamn seconds while I catch my breath, I'll...

Damn it. Has everyone forgotten I'm still the ranking officer here? Left with only Teal'c to rant at, I allow myself to be assisted to a waiting vehicle. The goods news is I'm heading to the same location as Daniel; the bad news is while he gets to travel by airway express I get the less than luxurious version of an Evesal road ambulance. Not that I begrudge Daniel his 'go-direct-to-surgery' card, it's just that I'd be a whole hell of a lot happier if I was with him.

Under Teal'c's watchful eye, I suffer the journey with as much grace as I can muster; presenting the bumbling stretcher bearers with only the smallest of swear words, and even smiling politely as an Evesal nurse sticks an IV in my arm with less skill than Janet's worst prodigy. At least I know the stuff now dripping into my bloodstream works; the dose Janet gave me on the ship is already clearing the cotton candy from brain.

Which is why I'm able to turn to Teal'c and ask something that has been bugging me ever since Daniel and I had our first argument as guests of the Evesal penal system.

"So Teal'c... remember that little brain-drain incident?" I try to sound casual. "You know? Anise told everyone I was a goa'uld assassin and then tried to make up for it by trying to stick her tongue past my tonsils."

"A most unpleasant incident," Teal'c replies solemnly.

I stare at him a moment wondering if he means the assassin part or the tonsils. Since the description fits just fine for either, I move on. "Yes. Good. Glad you remember, 'cos see... there's something I just can't figure out and I thought... maybe you might know the answer." I hesitate, and then just decide to spit it out. "How did Daniel find out what I said while I was stuck in Anise's little torture chair? You know... the whole thing about preferring to die rather than leave Carter behind."

Teal'c doesn't bat an eyelid. "I related all that happened to Daniel Jackson."

"Want to tell me why?" In contrast to Teal'c's cool admission, the question virtually explodes from me.

"Because you did not."

I rub irritably at my forehead, trying to keep a grip on my temper and sourly wonder if the implant is still working.

As though sensing my frustration with him, Teal'c suddenly volunteers information. "Daniel Jackson had a right to know."

"Really?" The sarcasm is sharp enough to slice paper.

He fixes me with a firm look. "O'Neill, you were the one who explained the functioning of a team to me. Clearly the nature of your feelings for Major Carter influences the team. As do mine for you. As do Daniel Jackson's for me. As..."

"Yes, yes. I know all that." I lean back on the pillows the nurse stuffed behind me. "But what went on in that room was private. Personal."

"You are incorrect, O'Neill. When you failed to tell Daniel Jackson what happened I considered it my duty to tell him - as a member of SG-1," He studies me coolly adding, "And as his friend."

I flinch at his words, not wanting to read into them the accusation I fear is just beneath the surface. "You don't get it, do you? It's because I'm Daniel's friend I didn't tell him."

He hesitates, considers for a long moment, then shakes his head. "No, O'Neill. I do not... 'get it'."

Of course he doesn't. Why would Teal'c - a do-it-because-you're-told-to-and-don't-ask-questions kind of guy - see any problem in telling Daniel - Mr Analyse-everything-to-death-and-only-follow-orders-if-it-suits-your-world-view - Jackson - what I said. I pull in a sharp breath. Actually that's not fair. Daniel does follow orders - if he didn't I'd have booted him off the team long ago. No, the biggest problem with Daniel is that damn annoying habit he has of interpreting orders to mean whatever the hell he wants them to.

I suddenly realise Teal'c is still waiting for an explanation. "I didn't tell Daniel because I didn't want him worrying over it. Which, by the way, is exactly what he has done, thanks to you. What happened in that room was finished - done, finito. Carter made that perfectly clear, didn't she? She was the one that said it didn't have to go outside. I just didn't think Daniel would understand that. Things are never 'over' with him."

Teal'c's face hardens. "Daniel Jackson is your friend. He would understand."

"Well that's where you're wrong because Daniel is apparently convinced my judgement is a little... off... because of Carter."

He considers for a moment. "Personal feelings are a powerful force, O'Neill. Perhaps Daniel Jackson knows that more than any of us. Was not his whole purpose in joining SG-1 to find his wife?"

"Exactly!" I feel a quick thrill of vindication. "How many times has Daniel gone running off at the mouth - or just simply gone running off - because of his personal feelings? And have I ever thrown it in his face? No. Not once."

"So you have said before." Teal'c raises an eyebrow, then continues. "However, you accepted Daniel Jackson onto the team knowing his feelings for his wife. The situation with you and Major Carter..."

"Is irrelevant!" I interrupt with force. "We're professionals. Military professionals. Whatever personal feelings we may or may not have is irrelevant."

Teal'c studies me, his face as expressionless as ever. "Does not your own Bible say, the heart is deceitful above all things, O'Neill?"

I glare at him. "What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"Even though we may not admit to something consciously..."

Oh, I've just about had enough of this. "You think Daniel is right about me, don't you?" I can hardly believe I'm asking Teal'c, of all people, that question. "You think..."

He cuts me off. "I would trust you with my life, O'Neill. Today, just as I have always done."

"But you think Daniel wouldn't?"

He gives me one of those maddeningly inscrutable looks - I swear he spends his entire off-duty time studying Spock. All he needs is a pair of damn Vulcan ears.

"Teal'c?"

"It is not a question of whether he would or wouldn't. It is whether he should." Teal'c's gaze bores into me. "Should Daniel Jackson trust you, O'Neill?"

"Of course he should!"

"Then there is no problem."

He turns away, the conversation clearly ended as far as he is concerned. Me? I lean back into my pillows, shocked by his words. All this from one statement - one lousy statement dragged out of me under duress. It's not like I declared undying love for Carter in the middle of the Gateroom.

'We may not admit to something consciously...' Well Teal'c got that right. I sure as hell hadn't admitted to it consciously until then - never would've if it hadn't been for Anise and her goddamn mind probe thingy. But now I can't deny the feelings were there, under the surface. And if they were there... If they're still there...

The image of Daniel's bruised body leaps unwelcome into my mind, the needle marks on his arms, the haunted look in his eyes when he woke. Oh my God. Had I really let my subconscious feelings influence my actions, capitulating to the Evesals demands too quickly? Jumping at the chance to send Carter home? Blindsiding myself with the what was happening here and now instead of looking to the implications...

Had Daniel been right all along?

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

Teal'c and I are deposited in a small room with a bed and a hard-backed chair. A doorway leads into a small washroom. The stretcher-bearers do the bare minimum to ensure me and my IV are tucked up safe and sound, and then leave. Teal'c gives the chair a dirty look and announces he'll wait in the corridor. If he wants to leave me alone to my thoughts, he needn't be quite so damn obvious about it. We could just sit in silence.

After a few minutes a medic arrives, tuts and mutters over the hole in my side, and sets about cleaning and dressing it properly. He knows nothing about Daniel's condition and, from his surly expression, missed out on the bedside manner part of his training. I'm as glad to see him go as he, apparently, is to leave.

What seems like a lifetime later, Carter and Coburn appear. They've spoken to Hammond and pass on the general's relieved greetings. I think Carter can sense something is bugging me. She keeps shooting me worried looks, but when she eventually asks if I'm okay I fob her off, telling her I'm just concerned about Daniel. Well, it isn't like it's a lie. I am concerned. Waiting to hear if he's pulled through surgery is not one of my favourite pastimes. The real truth, though, is that Teal'c's words are eating into me. The scenes with the Evesals keep replaying over and over in my mind. Their questions, my reply. Their veiled offers, my counters.

Could I have done more? Was I too hasty? A sick feeling is creeping over me. I'd mentally accused Teal'c of being like Spock, but now I'm scared the description might fit my shoulders better. After all I'm the one denying my feelings would have any impact on my judgement. Could I have argued harder for Daniel's release? It was all so confusing - the Evesals were no amateurs when it came to interrogation techniques. Sleep deprivation. Non-stop questioning. Twisting words round and round until they made no sense. Stopping just short of out-and-out torture.

But I was trained to handle all that, wasn't I? Trained to cut through the crap and figure out what was best for my team.

'Give us what we want and we'll let the woman go.' God, they'd actually said that. Thrown it at me in the middle of a session. And I reacted to it. And knew immediately that I shouldn't have done. That they'd use it against me. Had they noticed? Please God, don't let them have noticed. Got to do something... Got to wind this up before they catch on, and figure there's an alternative way to use Carter as a bargaining chip.

Oh God! Daniel, I never meant for it to happen the way it did.

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

Waiting, waiting... Four of us crammed into a tiny room with nothing to do. We can't even play a decent game of eye spy. By the time we've done B for bed, C for chair and W for wall, we've pretty much covered it. Okay, so we could perhaps have tried to be a bit more imaginative, but our hearts weren't in it. All we really want to know is that Daniel is okay.

About an hour after Carter and Coburn's return, an Evesal medic comes in, and we turn hopeful faces towards him. But, he knows nothing about Daniel either.

He's carrying a small tray of instruments, and with my permission he shoots a syringe full of clear liquid into my forearm that numbs me from wrist to elbow, and then expertly cuts through the skin and removes the implant. It looks like a small, if somewhat angular, spider - an oblong body and eight fibrous legs that I'm guessing connected into my nervous system somehow.

"Can I have it as a souvenir?" I ask, as he stitches the wound and sprays it with a clear liquid which almost instantly dries into a skin-coloured covering. Impressive. Spray on skin. We could use that in the SGC.

He gives me an odd look which I rightly interpret as a no. Guess the Evesals want to keep that little piece of technology to themselves.

Then we're back to waiting... waiting...

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

"Janet! Thank God!" Carter almost leaps off the foot of the bed as the door opens.

Janet raises her hands, looking exhausted, as a bombardment of questions hits her. "Daniel's left kidney was lacerated. Fortunately for him, it was relatively small and the bleeding wasn't too severe, plus - the surgery went well. He's going to be fine."

Thank God! I might not be the kind of guy who often lets his feelings show, but right now I know there's a big goofy smile on my face. As for the others - the relief in the room is so palpable I can almost touch it. Even Teal'c is smiling.

As Coburn vacates the chair, Janet sits gratefully. "How you doing, colonel?"

I waggle the IV line. "Hell of a lot better. We should get some of this stuff. So when can we see Daniel?"

"Not for a while. He's still sleeping off the anaesthetic." She scrubs her face with her hands. "And when he does wake I want to get him back to the SGC as fast as possible."

Something in her tone sets my alarm bells ringing. "Janet?"

She gives me a reassuring look. "Don't worry, colonel. Daniel really is going to be fine. He'd suffered a tear in his left kidney, but fortunately it was relatively small. The surgery It's just that... well, to be blunt, the Evesal medical service isn't all it could be. In some things, they're more advanced than us - that skin dressing being one." She points to my forearm. "But in others..." She shakes her head. "When they stripped Daniel off and saw how small his appendix scar was they were amazed. Seems they've never heard of keyhole surgery. If I hadn't been around Daniel may well have ended up slit from..." She glances round, suddenly realising how horrified we all look. "Well, fortunately I was there and Daniel is going to be fine."

She climbs back to her feet. "I've told the Evesals we want to leave first thing tomorrow. Brell is sorting accommodation for you all. Now I'd better get back to my patient."

And with that she's gone, leaving us as we start to reminisce over all the other times Daniel has scared us half to death.

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

Janet wasn't joking when she said she wanted to get Daniel home quickly. It's barely dawn when Brell arrives in my room with the news that we can leave.

"To be honest I think the government wants you out of here as quickly as your Doctor Fraiser does." She gives me an apologetic smile.

"No complaints from me," I retort, trying to pull on my clothes while hampered by the IV.

Seeing my plight, she reaches over and disconnects the tube. "That better?"

I nod gratefully and finally look at her properly. She looks coolly efficient in the crisp uniform of the Evesal military, but she's still Brell. For a moment I can't place what it is about her that's so distinctive, but then she smiles and it hits me right in the forehead; it's that mischievous glint in her eye - the one that promises so much if I just had the guts to call her on it.

I feel my own lips tug into a smile. Maybe one day.

"What?" she asks.

I shake my head. "Nothing."

She lets it pass with a shrug. "You ready to go?"

"Brell." I reach for her arm as she moves past me, one finger brushing her forearm. "Thank you. For everything. What you did? Daniel... We owe you our lives."

"You got caught up in something that was not your business. I was just doing my job, O'Neill."

I study her for a moment. "Really?"

Our eyes meet for a long moment, and then she says quietly. "They'll be waiting for you."

And they are. The event horizon is already shimmering in the Stargate. I hurry towards Daniel, who is strapped tightly into an Evesal stretcher carried by Coburn and Teal'c.

"You okay?" I ask quickly. He still looks like shit, and is obviously suffering from the after effects of the anaesthetic. I squeeze his shoulder sympathetically, knowing how nauseous he's probably feeling.

He peers up at me groggily, wincing as he slurs out a few words. "Gonna be fine, Jack. Just want to get home."

I nod and take a step back, watching as the fluid blue light swallows the three of them. Carter goes next, her gaze sweeping over Brell, who is standing by my side. Close to the event horizon, Janet is waiting for me.

I turn to Brell, suddenly uncertain about how to say goodbye. Fortunately she has an idea of her own. She leans close and whispers in my ear. "I'm not going to forget that fantasy, O'Neill. That's a promise." And then she grabs me by the ears, pulls my head down and plants a wet kiss on my forehead.

For once in my life I can't think of a suitable response. No doubt smiling like an idiot, I head towards the gate. I glance back at where Brell is still watching me. And then, with Janet at my side, I step into the icy cold grip of the vortex.

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

Janet treats me to three days of rest, relaxation, and antibiotics in the infirmary before finally cutting me loose with a list of instructions on both my mental and physical care. Post traumatic stress syndrome - yeah, yeah, been there done that. Not that having experienced it before makes it any easier. Wearing a colonel's uniform doesn't make me immune to the emotional rollercoaster that accompanies the relief of knowing that somehow, despite the fact I don't deserve it, I've survived another round of hell. But I know what to expect and I have a whole host of defence mechanisms ready - including, not that I'd tell Janet this in a million years, a bottle of whiskey for those long nights when... well, sometimes I need to forget just for a few hours; and if it's a night when I'm not on duty the next day, well what I do in my own time is my business just so long as it doesn't affect the job.

Just so long as it doesn't affect the job - that's a good one. I may be careful to ensure my occasional use of alcohol doesn't become a problem, but I've been slapped hard in the face about how easy it is for other things to 'affect the job'. One sentence - dragged out of me kicking and screaming - and suddenly my team is falling apart.

Only that's not quite true. One sentence, yes. But one sentence on top of a whole shitload of other stuff. Like telling Daniel our friendship had no foundation, and then, as far as he knew, dropping out of his life permanently without so much as a goodbye. And then that whole fiasco on Euronda. Me shutting him down when his questions got in the way of my orders to get my hands on some decent technology. I should've told him about Hammond's meeting with Kinsey right before that mission. The one where Kinsey was threatening yet again to shut down the program if we didn't produce results - results meaning hardware. But I didn't - instead I took out my anger with Kinsey on Daniel. Not that Daniel was exactly playing softball, refusing to take my not-so-subtle hints that it would be good for him to shut up.

God, what a mess. No wonder by the time we got to Evesa, Daniel was doubting his importance on the team. And then... as though I hadn't kicked him below the belt enough already, I confess to a crime that lands him neck deep in shit while Carter gets a ticket home. Somehow, I don't think my protests that I didn't mean it to happen like it did are going to cut any ice. Daniel's an archaeologist, he likes facts. And the fact is, whether the Evesals were determined to imprison Daniel or not, I screwed up. And what it boils right down to is, it doesn't matter whether it was because I mis-read the situation, didn't ask the right questions, or reacted to something that I shouldn't have reacted to. What matters is that Daniel is feeling betrayed and with good reason. Congratulations, Jack O'Neill. You win the arsehole of the year award.

So why haven't I spoken to Daniel yet, considering his bed is just a few feet away from mine? Well, for one thing, Daniel spends most of his time asleep - his body concentrating its energy on healing the physical damage. For another, well, the infirmary is hardly the place for a buddy-to-buddy chat what with all these nurses fussing around, and Carter and Teal'c checking up on us every couple of hours. Going to have to pick my moment carefully for this one. Oh yes, very carefully.

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

"So Fraiser's finally letting you go?" I stroll into the infirmary, trying to look casual.

Daniel is struggling his way into a pair of dark blue sweatpants, which he ties so loose they're barely hanging onto his hips, and a zip-up sweater - comfortable clothes that require a minimum of effort to pull on and which steer well clear of the stitches in his side. Even so, it's obviously hard work, but I figure he isn't going to appreciate an offer of help. He peers at the sneakers sitting on the end of the bed.

"Laces." He pulls a face. "I'm not sure..."

This, though, he might let me do for him. "I could...." I nod at the offending footwear.

He glances at me, looking embarrassed. "You wouldn't mind?"

I smile. "Hey, I know what it is to have a hole in the side, okay."

He rewards me with a small smile, drops the sneakers to the floor, pushes in his feet and submits to me tying them up. "Thanks."

In response I pull my car keys from my pocket. "Need a ride home?"

He hesitates. "Janet's organising a staff car."

I try not to sound too smug. "I know. I'm it."

"Oh." He doesn't sound pleased. "You don't need to do that. I mean... you must have things to do..." He trails off, shuffles to the bedside cabinet and starts to shove his personal stuff into a small holdall.

I try not to feel brushed off. "Well, it was drive you home or write a report for the beancounters." I make out I'm still giving it serious consideration, then rattle the keys again. "Sorry, you get the O'Neill special."

"Okay, fine." His voice is neutral, but that in itself sends me the message loud and clear that Daniel would really much rather be on his own right now, thank you very much. A shiver of doubt snakes down my spine at the thought of my plans for when I've got Daniel out of the infirmary door, but I shake it off, quickly convincing myself that I'm doing the right thing.

It takes a while to make it to the parking lot. Daniel, his hunched posture protecting his sore side, isn't exactly Mister Speedy right now, and he insists on going via his office to collect some books - books which I quickly realise he isn't strong enough yet to carry. I end up looking like a pack horse because Daniel can't just limit himself to books when he spots a new shipment of artifacts that SG-4 brought back from their last mission. And, of course, we lose even more time because he has to fill in all the relevant forms - in triplicate - to take them off the base; the SGC may be the forefront of Earth's archaeological research but it's still military and not even Daniel can avoid all the red tape.

By the time we escape his office I've let vent more than a few sarcastic comments and we draw curious glances as we make our way through the corridors, a shuffling Daniel complaining that he would've been quite happy to take a staff car, and me, loaded with bags and artifacts and feeling guilty for not curbing my tongue, telling him it's okay, if he wants books he can have books. If he wants me to carry this object that looks very much like a bedpan covered in goa'uld writing then I'll carry the bedpan.

We finally make it to my car and I start to deposit Daniel's library on the rear seat. He hobbles towards the rear of the car.

"Wouldn't they be better in the trunk?"

"Nope," I say quickly, catching his elbow and steering him towards the front passenger seat. "Trunk's a bit... full."

"Oh." Daniel changes direction, but not without sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth as he turns, reminding me of just how sore he must still be feeling. His casual acceptance of my trunk comment warns me his brain isn't functioning on all cylinders either, but I'll take my breaks where I can.

With Daniel settled and his library and artifacts stacked, I finally slide into the driver's seat, fire up the engine, and put the SGC behind us. We've barely gone half a mile before Daniel's eyes start to close. Two miles on and he's fast asleep. I smile with relief and allow myself to have my first proper look at him. The bruising on his face has improved - the swelling almost gone, just the kaleidoscope of purple, yellow and blue swirling across his cheek bone. He looks much too thin, though, almost gaunt, and his skin is still far too pale. What he needs is fresh air, good food and somebody to make sure he rests when he's meant to instead of spending all the hours God sends with his nose in a book. Of course, he'd probably prefer it if the latter wasn't me, but I've decided that isn't an option because this is the perfect opportunity for me to hang around until I find a way to talk to him. And if he objects to my presence - well, I'll just tell him that Janet was rostering her nurses to do home visits. Fingers crossed he just might think I'm the lesser of two evils.

Two hours later the absence of the car engine alerts Daniel to the fact we've arrived. He opens his eyes, blinks at the view and then pushes his fingers into his eyes as though trying to rub the image away.

He rounds on me as he realises he really is looking at a small cabin in the middle of a wooded glade. "Where the hell are we?"

"Janet's cabin," I reply nonchalantly. "Thought you'd been here before."

He pushes the car door open and carefully climbs out. "Okay. Different question. Why the hell are we here?"

"Ah." I open the trunk and pull out a fishing rod. "Thought you might fancy a little spot of..." He glares at me.

"I don't believe this. You've... you've kidnapped me? To go fishing!"

"Hey, don't knock it." I gather up an armful of stuff and head for the cabin door. "What could be better for recuperation than a few days in the country..." Hampered by the stuff in my arms, I fumble with the key. "You want to help me here?"

"No! I want to go home. My apartment. Nice quiet place in the middle of town. Fish in a tank. That ring any bells with you?"

"Daniel..." His glare darkens. Okay, time to explain about the nursing roster. And how I'm using up my leave to care for him. And how the least he could do is let me enjoy a little fishing while I'm at it. Ever had one of those moments when you know you're skating on very, very thin ice? "I fed your fish," I finish lamely.

His expression about as sour as it can get, Daniel gingerly pulls himself up the steps to the cabin leaning heavily on the handrail, before snatching the keys from me. "What about my stuff?"

"Clothes are in the trunk. Books are on the back seat."

I drop the fishing gear on the floor of the cabin and head back to the car. "Why don't you make some coffee?"

When I come back in, Daniel is spooning coffee into the filter machine. I set a large box of canned food on the work surface next to him. "Think you could manage to put those in the..." The spoon clatters to the floor, coffee grounds spilling at our feet. "Daniel?"

His face has gone like chalk. He takes a step away from me, wrapping his arms around his chest, trying to hide the fact his hands are shaking. "Oh God. Sorry... I'll be fine. Just... just give me a moment."

My gaze falls on the box. Oh, shit! Canned food. What an idiot. I snatch up the box and stride out of the cabin, virtually throwing it back into the trunk of the car.

When I come back, he's got himself under control, holding a cloth in one hand and peering down at spilled coffee. He glances up at me. "Sorry. I can't..." He makes a little circular motion with his free hand down near his left hip.

I take the cloth from him and set to work on the floor. "I'm the one who needs to apologise. Wasn't thinking. I'll drive into town later. Get in some fresh stuff."

"You don't have to. Food is food, Jack."

No, it's not. Not when it comes in cans and sets off a host of unwelcome memories. I keep that comment to myself though, casually agreeing with him. "Yeah. But flashbacks aren't fun." I glance up at him. "That is what happened just then, right?"

He looks at me. "You getting them too?"

I nod. "I've had one or two. PTSD affects everyone, Daniel. Didn't Fraiser tell you that?"

"Yeah. Right before she started talking about the benefits of anti-depressants." He pulls in a long breath, and peers around the cabin as though wondering what else might set him off, but when he finally focuses back on me there's no fear in his eyes. I must look concerned though because he starts to explain. "It's just been a couple of flashbacks, Jack. The odd bad dream.... I don't need pills. And I don't need wrapping in cotton wool."

Despite his assurance, a sigh escapes me. "Perhaps this wasn't a good idea." I wave a hand at the cabin. "I just figured..." I trail off, knowing damn well what I'd figured. Perhaps I should drop the whole idea. But then again, not talking about Evesa won't do him any favours either. Why does everything have to be so damn complicated?

"Go on," Daniel prompts, colour seeping back into his face. He flicks the 'on' switch on the coffee machine.

I hesitate and then make up my mind to go for it. "I just figured we could use some time... just the two of us. Without those damn implants... or people trying to ..."

"Steal our boots?" Daniel offers softly. He leans towards the coffee machine and pulls in a deep breath. "God I've missed this stuff." His face takes on a guilty expression. "Janet said I shouldn't..."

"What Janet doesn't know..."

"Right." His gaze moves longingly towards the coffee. I figure it's taking all his willpower to stop himself from removing the jug and sticking his head under the slow trickle of fresh coffee that is now filtering through. "Just one cup..."

"Daniel?"

"Yeah?" His gaze is still on the coffee.

"The real reason I dragged you out here..." That gets his attention, but suddenly I don't know what to say. All my carefully rehearsed words have vanished from my head. "You saved my life. Back on Evesa. I haven't had chance to say thank you." I meet his gaze and hold it. "Thank you."

He colours slightly. "You'd have done... you did do... the same for me."

I laugh humourlessly. "Funny. I don't remember that bit. What I do remember is Shotak standing over me with a knife and somebody - you, Daniel - yelling 'no one touches my friend'." I turn away, unable to force out the words while he's looking at me with those intelligent eyes. "Daniel, I've done some stupid things in my life. But using our friendship the way I did... well, that wins the prize for being the dumbest."

He doesn't say a word and I'm forced to turn and look at him. He looks tired, but there's something calculating about his expression. It's almost as though he's weighing me up, trying to decide if I'm worth the effort. He gives a small sigh.

"Jack, if you're trying to apologise about that whole 'no foundation' thing, do you think you could get it right this time?"

Whoa! That wasn't quite the response I was expecting. What happened to all the errr... hummm... no problem... it's fine... stuff? My face must be reflecting my surprise because Daniel gives a small shake of his head before speaking.

"You don't get it, do you Jack? I mean I know I'm a linguist and have a major advantage over you but when it comes to words... but, well, in my book, apologies usually involve the word 'sorry'."

I stare at him for a long moment, wondering just what the hell he is on about. And then the penny drops. "Oh." Okay, so he wants it straight. Fine. I can do straight.

I pull in a deep breath. "Daniel, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't tell you what was going on with the Asgard and the Tollan. I'm sorry you wasted your time on that presentation. And I'm truly sorry, more than you can ever imagine, that I said our friendship had no foundation."

Daniel gives the smallest of nods. "Apology accepted."

Just like that? I blink, surprised by the suddenness. "Right. Good. So we're..."

Daniel winces as he reaches up to retrieve two mugs from their hooks beneath the cupboard.

I'm at his side in a moment. "You look exhausted. Sit down. I'll do this."

He doesn't argue, moving to one of the easy chairs and easing himself into it with the cautiousness of someone still recovering from surgery. "Jack, while we're on the subject of apologies. I said some pretty rough things to you on Evesa..."

I hand him a full mug, cutting him off. "Nothing I didn't deserve," I say quietly. He studies me over the rim of his cup and I hold up a finger, silencing his protest. "Remember when you told Makepeace you didn't trust my command?" His embarrassed look tells me he does. "That hurt, Daniel. Really hurt."

"Jack..."

"Ah - ah! I'm talking here. Thing is... now I'm not surprised. Fact is... there's a whole load of stuff I've kept to myself. Stuff I should've told you about. And for that... Daniel, I'm sorry."

He tilts his mug, takes a large mouthful and swallows. "The 's' word twice in one day, Jack? That's kind of worrying. Did Janet tell you I'm dying or something?"

"No!" The protest is out of my mouth before I realise he's joking. "That's not funny."

"Sorry."

He apologises but I know he doesn't mean it. Little... I clamp down on the less than favourable description. I really just want to get this over and done with. Two apologies down - might as well make it three in a row. Practice makes perfect...

"Daniel, I know Teal'c told you what happened in that... you know when..."

"I'd rather die myself than live without her?" Daniel supplies the words, his eyes narrowing, his tone distinctly cooler.

Okay. So maybe three in a row isn't going to be so easy. I peer into my coffee cup, suddenly finding the brown liquid extremely fascinating. "Yeah, that." My nerve goes. "Do you want a drink? I've got some whiskey..."

"Coffee's fine."

I squirm in my seat. "Right. That thing... that I said... while tied into Anise's brain scooper..."

"I know where you were, Jack." His eyes are cold, and he repeats himself for emphasis. "I know where you were and what you said. And I know that you didn't see fit to tell me. Did I miss anything?"

I glare at him. "Yes. You missed something! You missed the bit where I realised I was wrong."

"Wrong?" Daniel looks confused. "Are you telling me you don't have feelings for Sam?" His eyebrows shoot up his face so far they almost go into orbit. "'Cos if you are you're more deluded than I thought."

I wince. "No. That's not what I'm saying. I was wrong about thinking it wouldn't affect the team. No..." I hold up a finger again. "Worse than that. I didn't even think about it affecting the team because if I had, I could've done something about it. What I did was to deny it completely. Dismissing it as irrelevant... pretending it wasn't there."

"That why you didn't tell me about it?" Daniel asks quietly.

I nod. "Daniel, what can I say? I really believed I had it under control. That it wouldn't affect me... or my judgement. On Evesa... just for one split second, it did. And that was all it took."

He looks at me, then at his cup, then back at me. "So... what are you going to do about it?"

"Admit the truth to myself. That I'm not some kind of military robot. That I'm not... infallible. Apologise to you... for what you went through on Evesa. At the end of the day, Daniel, hand on heart, I don't think I could've stopped the Evesals throwing you into prison with me, but... I could've tried harder to prevent it. If we'd been playing poker, well... I folded too early."

Daniel breathes a long sign. "And what about next time, Jack?"

"Next time?" I pull in a long breath. What can I say? Make a promise I may not be able to keep? No. Not that. My mind runs back over what I've just said, over what I've learnt. "Next time, Daniel, I'll know myself better. My head is out of the sand. That's the best I can offer."

I barely manage to stop myself from wincing; it sounds so pathetic. What I'm really saying is 'trust me, knowing me for exactly what I am'. If I were Daniel, I'm not sure I would.

Daniel sets down his cup. "Jack, what I said about not trusting your command?"

I nod. Here it comes. He's going to quit the team.

He goes on, "Well, that was true. I don't always agree with what you do, or why you do it. But..." He looks me straight in the eye. "I trust you, Jack. I trust you to be you."

"You... trust me to...?" I have a nasty feeling I'm missing the point, and that this isn't the compliment I think it is. Sure enough Daniel doesn't disappoint me.

"I trust you to be sarcastic, infuriating, sometimes down right rude. I trust you to treat at least half of my ideas as though they're the ravings of a maniac and the other half as an total and utter inconvenience. But..." This time it's Daniel who holds up the finger for silence. "I also trust you to let me drag you clear across the universe chasing some dream you don't really believe in. I trust you to never give up on me even when I've given up on myself." He gives an embarrassed laugh. "I trust you to come looking for me even when you're so sick you can hardly move and I'm trying to save you I trust you, Jack, to be..." He suddenly looks totally embarrassed and the words tumble out of his mouth so fast I hardly catch them. "To be my friend, okay?"

I don't know what to say. I pull in a deep breath. Blow it out again noisily. Scrub a hand through my hair. And finally manage to say, "That's cool."

Daniel smiles and then yawns, wincing as he does so. He looks totally washed out. Picking up his mug he looks into it longingly. "Do you think I could just..."

"No." I cut him off forcefully. "What you can do is sleep while I go and buy some fresh provisions. Then I'm going to cook you the best meal you've had in a month, after which, you're going to sleep some more. And if you're very nice to me, I'll let you beat me at a chess this evening."

"Jack..."

"No protests. It's me or Janet's nurses."

"Okay. Okay. Whatever you say." He climbs to his feet and heads towards the bedroom. "You will bring my books in from the car, won't you?"

"Of course."

"And the artifacts."

"And the artifacts."

He pauses in the doorway. "Thanks."

I smile. "You're welcome, Daniel."

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

How many days had it been? Five? Six? Daniel had lost count. All he knew was that this was their last evening at the cabin. While he was probably looking at another week or so convalescing, Jack had duties to return to.

The break had been just what he needed though. It had been a long time since he and Jack had just sat and talked. And when the memories of Evesa had been too much to handle - the flashbacks, the sudden sweats, the cold feeling of dread brought on by the strangest of objects, such as the can opener - Jack had understood, had been there when he needed to know there was someone in the world who cared about him, and had left him alone when he just needed to work his way through the nightmares on his own.

They were sitting together now on Janet's decking. The small stream that past the cabin on its way to the lake sparkled in the late afternoon light. The sun was still warm, and they were enjoying the soothing sounds of nature and the warm glow of whiskey. Yet another forbidden fruit, Daniel realised, hoping Janet wasn't going to take a blood sample the moment he stepped foot in the infirmary in the morning.

Beside him Jack sighed. "Teal'c is never going to believe we caught that fish."

Daniel chuckled softly. "How big was it? Fourteen inches."

"Sixteen," Jack corrected. "Sixteen at least. Maybe more."

"Good job you were there. Never would've reeled it in on my own."

"That's what friends are for," Jack replied good-naturedly. "Damn fine fish. We should've kept it. Got it stuffed."

"No. I prefer knowing it's still out there. You could bring Teal'c here. Maybe catch it again."

"Good idea!"

They sat in contemplative silence for a long moment, sipping whiskey and relishing the last few hours of freedom. Daniel pulled in a long breath, enjoying the clean, pine smell in the air. Sure beat the infirmary. A thought suddenly crossed his mind. Should he? Did he dare?

He shot Jack a sideways glance. "Show you mine if you show me yours."

Jack almost choked on a mouthful of whiskey. Coughed, spluttered and somehow managed to get out a shocked, "Daniel?"

Daniel smiled, sipped his drink and, fixing the most innocent expression in his arsenal on his face, said, "Scars, Jack. Scars."

"Oh. Of course." Jack shot him a hopeful look. "Really?"

Daniel nodded. "You first though."

"Okay." Jack pulled up his T-shirt and revealed the knife wound he received on Evesa. Two inches across, it was healing well.

Daniel grinned, untucked his shirt from his pants and revealed Janet's handiwork on his left side. "Mine's bigger and..." He unbuckled his belt, yanked at the waistband of his pants and revealed his appendix scar. "I've got a matching one on the other side."

Jack made a disgusted noise. "Surgery scars don't count!" He stripped off his T-shirt and pointed to his arm. "Arrow wound."

Daniel's eyes narrowed for a moment, and then he also ripped off his shirt, turning to show off the top of his right arm. "Staff burn."

"That's nothing." Jack didn't even hesitate as he dropped his pants. "Staff burn. Right thigh. Much bigger than yours."

"Ah-ah!" Not to be outdone Daniel pulled off his pants and pointed to his right thigh. "Laser canon. Deep bleeding gash - needed 8 stitches." He looked up, coloured and then burst out laughing. "I can't believe we're doing this." He yanked up his pants and reached for his discarded shirt. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

Pulling his clothes back on, Jack joined in the laughter. He scooped up the whiskey bottle and poured two generous measures of liquor into the discarded glasses. "Well, if you can't show your scars to your friends who can you show them too."

Daniel gave a shy smile. "Yeah. If not to friends then..." He took his recharged glass from Jack's hand, hesitated for a moment and then tilted it in toast. "To true foundations, Jack."

Jack smiled and clinked his glass against Daniel's. "True foundations. Long may they stand."

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

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