Title: Rebirth, Part 4 - Mission: Impossible
Word Count: 10,010
Author: Alanna
E-mail: lone.drow@gmail.com
Added: January 31st, 2006
Edited/Revised: July 31st, 2006
Rating: PG-13 for a bit of language
Pairing: None
Category: AU, Drama, Angst, Humor, Friendship
Status: Complete
Season 7
Spoilers: A few for 'Fire and Water', 'The Serpent's Lair', but nothing you don't already know.
Synopsis: Jack didn't want to take Daniel in! *gasp* Now it's time for Operation: Under Skin Get
Warnings: Kidfic!
Disclaimer: Stargate SG1 and its characters are property of Stargate (II) productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money was exchanged. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations and story are property of the author. This story may not be posted anywhere else without the consent of the author.

Notes:Once again, this is unbeta'd; all mistakes are mine.


Saturday

"Daniel? Hey, Daniel...wake up, sweetie."

Sam watched as her houseguest of the past three days buried his face deeper into his pillow and moaned. She grinned in response, and tugged the blankets away from the curled lump that was the five year old's body. "Don't give me that--I have a surprise for you today...but if you don't want to go visit Col--Jack--then you don't have to..."

Immediately, shining blue eyes were burning a hole through her, and Daniel flashed her that dazzling, dimpled grin of his. "We're gonna go see Jack? Is he finished all his work now? He sure works a lot, doesn' he?"

Sam nodded, smiling through the O'Neill-related frustration that was making her blood boil and was murder on her teeth, which hadn't seemed to be able to stop themselves from gnashing together whenever the colonel had been brought up in conversation the last few days. The colonel had been using every excuse in the book not to see Daniel--he wouldn't answer any of the calls Sam gave him, and her hope that he would actually pick up and acknowledge that she was trying to get in touch with him had been eroding daily. Daniel asked after him every day, but everyone who did manage to get in touch with O'Neill each reported the same thing--the colonel maintained that he had too much work to do--he was sorry; he'd try to get over later on. 'Bullshit,' Sam thought. 'Enough is enough.' It was Saturday; the colonel would be home all day, and Sam had a few things to take care of while she had the last of her few days off. Colonel O'Neill was going to have a guest for the day, whether he liked it or not.

"How long'll I be there?" Daniel asked eagerly as he scurried around the small guestroom. "What're we gonna do? D'you think Jack'll take me for ice cream? I love ice cream; you do too, dontcha Sam? Choc'late 'nella swirls is the best--but I love other kinds, too, like the kinds you buy! I'll eat all my dinner and ev'rything, and Jack'll want me to visit all the time because I'll think of really fun games and stuff to play, losta more fun than work! How come Jack doesn' want me to visit him, Sam?" he asked suddenly, turning the conversation around in a sharp 180.

"Whoa, slow down!" Sam sat on the edge of the bed; she'd worried this was coming. "Come here a minute." Daniel quickly scampered up to her and she pulled him onto her lap, planting a kiss on his forehead and smoothing his rumpled hair back. "Okay now. What makes you think Jack doesn't want you to visit him?"

Daniel gave her a funny look before turning his attention to her thin silver necklace, twirling it around his index fingers. "Sam, I know he's mad at me," he said softly. "He doesn' like me anymore 'cause I let Rana help me."

"Daniel..." Despite the fact that, over the past few days, Daniel had been proving himself to be one of the brightest children Sam had ever met, it was still so strange to hear thoughts and observations that were so Daniel to her spoken in the hesitant, uncertain vernacular of a five year old child. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight, rocking from side to side a little. "Jack loves you, Daniel," she told him. "He just isn't really sure what to make of all this, that's all."

"D'you'n'Teal'c know?" The question was muffled by Sam's shoulder, but she heard the fear in his voice. She kissed the top of Daniel's head and chuckled softly.

"Not really sweetie; no," she admitted. "But Teal'c, and me, and Jack too--we all love you very much, and since this is obviously what you thought you needed to do, we're all going to be right here beside you. Understand? There's nothing you can do to make us stop being there for you."

Daniel sniffled softly, then nodded. "'Kay."

Sam squeezed him again and smiled, hoping her voice didn't sound as forced to Daniel as it did to herself when she said, "Good. Now, get some stuff together--you're going to be spending the whole day with Jack, and I'm sure that after all that work he had to do all week he's going to be more than happy to let loose and play!"

She held her smile until Daniel darted from the room, searching for more things to bring in his little backpack, and then she let it fall from her face, feeling the relief of muscles that had been forced into the same expression for too long. She was getting Daniel's hopes up far too high, a little voice inside her warned as she stood to lay out some clothes for him to wear for the day--the pessimistic part that told her this entire plan was a bad idea, that it was incredibly bold and incredibly stupid to force Daniel on the colonel when he was obviously in such a stubborn mindset.

Then there was the other part of her; the part that wanted to see everything smoothed out, as she'd always strived for in the past when things began to get rocky, when egos and opinions clashed between them. She wanted the SG-1 everyone always referred to with such respect and admiration around the SGC and on various alien worlds--the SG-1 who would kill or be killed for one another, who were one another's support, their backbone, their complements. She didn't want the dysfunctional-family-SG-1 that they'd all noticed--quite painfully--in the months leading up to Daniel's ascension. That part of her was certain that the colonel would see the light and come around...at least, it hoped.

"Sam, do I need my toothbrush?"

Sam dissolved into silent laughter at the earnest tone as Daniel called to her from the bathroom. "No, I think you'll be fine without it, sweetie."

He came running back with a few DVDs, stacking them neatly in one corner of his bag. "Are you going to be able to carry that?" Sam asked. He nodded vigorously. "Okay. I'll drag this out to the living room and start breakfast. Can you handle getting dressed on your own?"

Daniel blushed a deep red. "Yeah!" he said indignantly. "'M Not a baby!"

Sam chuckled and held up her hands in defeat. "Fair enough. Come on out when you're ready; I'll have pancakes waiting for you." 'If I don't burn the damn things--again.'

=====

Sam gave Daniel a wink as she knocked firmly on Colonel O'Neill's door. "Just let me do the talking," she said lightly, "and you...look cute." Daniel returned her smile nervously, standing slightly behind her and clutching his little backpack close to his chest. He kept his gaze fixed resolutely on his baby docs, looking up only when Sam tapped him lightly on the head. "Hey," she said warmly. "Everything's going to be fine. I promise."

She soothed his hair gently until his tiny nod and a brave smile set the plan in motion, corresponding with the wide front door opening, revealing the colonel, dressed in jeans and t-shirt, staring out at them--and appearing completely off-guard to boot. "Carter...?"

"Morning, sir!" Sam chirped. "Sorry we're late!"

"That's...okay. Late for...?" O'Neill's gaze flickered from Sam to Daniel and back again, completely dumbfounded.

"Yes," Sam said, as though it should be obvious. "It is Saturday, sir." She sighed heavily as the colonel merely blinked placidly at her. "The General did call you? He said he would."

"Call me for what, Carter?!" Sam felt Daniel flinch against her leg at O'Neill's raised tone, and she immediately gave his hair a light tousle of reassurance.

"Well sir, everybody--including myself--we've called all have things to do today, and the General told me you would be free to watch Daniel for the day."

"Oooooh," O'Neill drawled. "He, uh...didn't call. Actually, I have...you can't take...?"

Sam glared at him. "Daniel will be bored stiff, sir, if he comes with me. Womanly business and the like. We all assumed you'd be fine with watching him--I shouldn't be any later than eight or so. But of course, if you don't want to..."

"No," the colonel abruptly interrupted, no doubt mentally weighing the consequences from his friends and co-workers if he refused, but not sounding very happy about his own coerced agreement. "No, it's fine. I'll--I'll watch him. Just 'til eight o'clock, you say?"

Sam beamed. "Yes sir. Thanks a lot; we both really appreciate this!" She beamed down at Daniel--'Phase one, initiated'--and checked her watch. "God, I'm late! I've got to run!" She stooped to give Daniel a kiss on the cheek and another wink, which he attempted to return but only succeeded in blinking both eyes hard. "He still gets tired very easily," she told the colonel, straightening. "If he needs a nap, just plop him on the couch or something and stick in one of his movies. He'll fall asleep in no time."

"Okay..."

Sam kissed Daniel's cheek again. "Mind your manners," she teased, coaxing a smile out of him, and then she was moving, waving over her shoulder as she descended the steps. "See you later, Daniel! Have fun, sweetie; love ya!"

"'Bye Sam...love you too."

Okay. So maybe she didn't actually have anything to be late for--she was picking up Teal'c and they were both going shopping for some more Daniel-related goodies. Not even Daniel knew that--he wasn't even aware there had been a plan in the works. Sam felt a little guilty at leading him into this blind, but she also knew that little kids, when questioned directly, whether they had a secret to keep or not, would more than likely answer truthfully. If Colonel O'Neill found out she was only going shopping, he'd figure out something was up. She dared a glance back up to the porch as she unlocked the Volvo's doors, and almost laughed at the pitiful display watching her go--the colonel was slouched in the doorway, hands in his pockets, staring wistfully at the car. Daniel was ahead of him, hand about chest height, waving to her, a mixture of joy and trepidation on his face. She gave him a wave, blew him a kiss, and hopped in the car. They'd be fine, she told herself.

"Well..." Jack said when an awkward silence fell in the wake of Sam's car driving away. "Guess we can't leave you standing on the front steps all day. Come on in; you have breakfast yet?" He held the door for Daniel, guiding him inside with an absent hand on Daniel's back.

Daniel leaned into the touch slightly, already feeling better about this. "Ye--no. No," he said quickly, preceding Jack inside. If he could show Jack that he could eat all his breakfast; if he could show Jack he would try everything on his plate and eat it all up...Daniel smiled to himself, and carefully placed his backpack out of the way in the front hall. He tried to reach one of the hooks that one of Jack's coats was hanging on, but he was too small. He figured the floor just behind the rack was good enough--that way, neither he nor Jack would trip over it.

"All right; I was just gonna eat. You still like bacon and eggs?"

"I--I think so...Idano." 'Bacon and eggs'. He'd had eggs in Egypt, that he could remember...they'd tasted okay, but he remembered he'd gotten a little sick to his stomach after he'd eaten them. "Danny, you ate too much! Remember, you can't store food in a hump like the camels do!" His daddy had been lying down with him on Daniel's pallet, gently rubbing his tummy, teasing him about trying to be like the camels. Daniel thought he could try eggs again, just so long as he didn't try to eat so many this time. Bacon, on the other hand, sounded familiar, but he didn't remember what it tasted like, or looked like...

Jack sighed, and Daniel cringed; Jack was obviously tired of waiting for him to finish thinking. "Right. Come on; don't want it to get cold."

=====

Daniel cleared his plate and sat back, hand over his full belly. He grinned at Jack, who gave him a faint smile in return. "Thank you," Daniel said enthusiastically. "That's really good!"

"Yeah." Jack began clearing the table of their dirtied dishes and opened the dishwasher. "You always did like this stuff." He set the dishwasher and leaned back against it, facing Daniel. "So...how are things at Carter's place?"

Daniel smiled. "Sam'n'Teal'c let me stay up 'til eleven o'clock last night!" he said excitedly. "We watched all the 'Indiana Jones' movies! They're really cool--didjou ever see them?"

Memories of the four of them--himself, Daniel, Carter and Teal'c--all ensconced in various relaxed poses around his living room while 'Raiders of the Lost Ark', 'Temple of Doom' and 'The Last Crusade' played over and over again, Teal'c in control of the remote to better access his favourite scenes and play them back over and over, assailed Jack, and a profound melancholy washed over him before he firmly took it in hand, pushed it aside and tilted his head toward the living room, indicating the direction Daniel was to follow him. He preceded the boy out of the kitchen, coffee in hand. "Yeah, I have seen them."

"I wish you didn' hafto work last night," Daniel continued, tagging along. "It woulda been so fun if you'd'a been there! Teal'c made popcorn, and he put it on his ice cream! He eats weird stuff! Sam said you'd prob'ly try it 'cause you're ad..aven..avengeris?"

"Adventurous," Jack corrected absently. It stung, having to correct the pronounciation of the one person who would, under normal circumstances, run circles around the rest of them, vocabulary-wise. Damned if he'd let it show, though.

"That's it! Ad-ven-tur-ous," Daniel repeated proudly, trotting ahead of Jack and wriggling into a comfortable position on the couch. "What're you watching? D'you think we can go outside after?"

"Baseball highlights," Jack answered the first question. "And yeah, sure; I suppose so."

"Goody!" Thrilled at finally getting to spend time with Jack, Daniel bounced eagerly in his seat, watching the TV as a man in a grey outfit swung a bat at the ball another man threw at him and hit it, sending the ball flying way far back, over the heads of all the other people running around in the field. Daniel wanted to say something, to make himself sound knowledgeable about the games Jack obviously enjoyed, even if he didn't really understand what was going on, but glanced at Jack first--he was sitting back, slouching a bit, eyes riveted to the screen. He didn't look like he was very excited about the man hitting the ball way out over the red people's heads...but maybe that was a grown-up thing. Maybe grown-ups didn't...bounce. settled his bouncing, determined not to make any trouble, continuing to study Jack surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye. Daniel's stomach gurgled a bit, and he felt a burp rise in his throat. Doing as his mommy and daddy had always taught him, he let it go in his hand, but then his stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch, tightening his throat and spilling saliva into his mouth. His breathing automatically came shallower and more quickly, and he sat stock-still, panting through his mouth. "Um. Jack?"

"Hmm?" Jack drew his eyes away from the Yankees/Rockies game highlights and glanced at Daniel, who looked distinctly paler than he had five minutes earlier. Alarm bells started going off in his head. "What's wrong?"

"I--I think I'm...wh--where's your b--bathroom?"

"Damn it," Jack hissed. "Here, come on." He scooped Daniel up carefully and ran, barely managing to deposit the boy, minute tremors shaking his body, in front of the toilet before both Daniel's breakfasts made a violent comeback. Jack wavered behind him, hands half-outstretched, as Daniel clung to the sides of the toilet bowl, retching for endless minutes before he had nothing left to bring up and was reduced to painful-looking dry heaves and lurched his entire body forward every few seconds. Just when Jack thought maybe some flu bug had caught Daniel over the past few days and this bout with the porcelain god was going to be much more serious than he'd thought, Daniel drooped against the toilet, forehead pressed against the cool porcelain. "Here," Jack said quietly, finally making himself useful by snagging his bottle of mouthwash and helping Daniel rinse his mouth. Setting it back on the sink when Daniel spat into the toilet, Jack wet a washcloth and carefully wiped the sweaty little face with it. "Carter didn't tell me you were sick," he complained quietly. His 2IC was going to get it.

"'m not," Daniel protested, eyelids drooping, his bout of illness having drained what energy he'd had. "Ate too much."

Jack twisted his face in a disbelieving grimace but didn't respond to that. "You gonna throw up anymore?"

Daniel shook his head lethargically, looking up at Jack with wide, wounded eyes. "Uh-uh."

"All right--come on, I'll get you a movie to watch, and you can sack out on the couch for a while to give your stomach time to settle."

"'Kay..." Daniel reached both arms out to Jack, who paused, setting the cloth back on the sink before picking him up. Daniel didn't seem to notice his hesitation; he curled slightly against Jack's chest and closed his eyes as Jack reached out and flushed the toilet. Heart twisting with unpleasantly conflicting emotion, Jack carried him out to the couch and arranged him on it, facing the TV, ensconced in an afghan and surrounded by pillows. Wordlessly, he grabbed Daniel's backpack and pulled out the first movie he came across--"'A Knight's Tale'?" Jack muttered. Carter's idea of kidfare in movies? He searched for a few minutes more before giving up, finding absolutely nothing that he would be willing to suffer through watching, no matter who was staying with him or how sick they were, returning to the living room to stick in the DVD. He glanced over at Daniel, who was watching him, curled up on his side with his eyes half-open. The opening credits started on the movie and Daniel shifted, dislodging the afghan and letting his eyes settle closed the rest of the way. Sighing inwardly, Jack crossed to him and pulled the afghan back up, tucking it around him uncertainly.

Daniel's eyes opened briefly, and his gaze settled on Jack before the blue disappeared again. "Sorry," he breathed.

"What?" Jack whispered, but the boy was already asleep. With a sigh, Jack stood, turned the volume on the movie down, and headed to the kitchen to give Carter a nice, friendly phone call.

---

**Hello?**

Jack winced at Carter's saccharine-sweet, cheerful tone. "Carter."

**Sir! Is something wrong? How's Daniel?**

"Sleeping..."

**That's good.**

"...After he tossed enough cookies to strike jealously into the hearts of Keebler elves everywhere."

**What are you talking about? What happened?!**

"You tell me!" Jack hissed, keeping his voice low. "He had breakfast, chattered about God-knows-what for a few minutes and then puked."

**'Breakfast'?** Carter sounded surprised. **Sir, I fed him before we came over--didn't he tell you that?**

With a sigh--something, he realized, he'd been doing an awful lot of over the course of the past few days--Jack pinched the corners of his eyes with a thumb and forefinger. "No. No, Carter, he didn't. Now why would he pull a stupid stunt like--"

**Sir,** Carter said peevishly, **in case you've forgotten, 'he' is only five years old.**

"For cryin' out loud, Carter, he's thirty-six!"

**Has he done or said anything that seems remotely thirty-six, sir? Whether you like it or not, he is five, and if you'll pardon the insubordination, you've got to take whatever blinders you have on your eyes off, and drag the Stick of Stubbornness out of your ass. Daniel is a five year old child--a five year old child who absolutely idolizes you, even if it is for reasons that have not been made very clear to any of us over the past few days.** Jack's mouth hung open, stunned to silence, completely at his 2IC's mercy, but Carter continued. **He's been asking for you constantly for three days, and you haven't even made the tiniest effort to see him, or speak with him...he's just a little boy, and he wants the people he knows and trusts around him. Perhaps it's slipped your mind, Colonel, but this entire situation is a complete memory void to him. We are the only ones he recognizes in the mountain, in Colorado Springs--hell, probably in the entire country. We're his safe haven, and God forbid he wants to feel wanted in that safe haven. Whether you're mad at Daniel, yourself, or those...aliens,** her voice lowered considerably, informing Jack that she was in a public place, **you'd better snap out of it either way.** Carter seized a quick breath. **I can't--and won't--argue with you here, sir; I have to go. I'll talk to you later.**

The line went dead without any further ado, leaving Jack floundering, mouth working soundlessly. "Son of a bitch," he finally managed to squeak out incredulously, and he carelessly dropped the cordless onto his dining room table and slouched out to the living room, thoroughly--and unbelievably--chastised. No. Not chastised--ripped a new one would be the correct description for that--well, he couldn't really even call it a 'conversation', could he? Daniel was still dead to the world, and had turned himself around so he was on his stomach, face turned out toward Jack, his left arm wrapped around a cushion while he snuffled sleepily into the fabric. "Daniel is a five year old child--a five year old child who absolutely idolizes you, even if it is for reasons that have not been made very clear to any of us over the past few days." Frowning, Jack sat down in the plush armchair across from the couch where his little bête noire was currently sacked out.

...

Christ, but he was tiny. Jack watched the little bundle beneath the afghan fidget a little, unconsciously dipping his chin so he could rub at one cheek with his fingers. Jack tilted his head this way and that, trying, he supposed, to take in the anomaly before him from all angles, a bit bemused to find himself making a bit of a game out of superimposing what he remembered about the adult Daniel over the features of the child version.

Jack frowned when he discovered it was much easier than he thought it'd be--especially now, when Daniel was still. Quiet. Not going off like Tigger on speed...but even that had been a quality he'd always loved to hate about the adult, wasn't it? No matter how many rolled eyes, pointed glares or...verbal shut-downs, Daniel never seemed to notice--or, and perhaps more accurate of an assessment, noticed and just didn't care. There had been very little that would intimidate Daniel, and even less that would deter him from a train of thought or some in-depth study of some form of 'artifact'.

Personality traits...check, Jack acknowledged grudgingly. Physical traits...

The hands were far too small, far too stubby, to hold in them the possibility of growing to the strong, careful hands Jack had been witness to dancing over some ancient inscription, ancient carvings or hieroglyphics, pictographs...the child's fingers were too blunt to be able to carry out such delicate work as Daniel had set his life to.

Blunt--that seemed to be the word of the day. Blunt fingers, chin, nose...it all worked together to make Child-Daniel look round. Chubbily...cute. Cuddly. Jack shuddered. 'Daniel' and 'cuddly' were two words that would never be analogous--and if Daniel had ever thought for one second that somebody did make that connection, he'd probably kick their ass. Or at least try to. The man did have the worst sense of self-preservation...another tick in the Big-Little category. Jack had been--and still was--trying to be aloof without being...mean. Casual, noncommital responses, an excuse--no matter how lame--not to stick around...but this Daniel had the 'just walk away' sense the adult did.

Jack had to admit, however grudgingly, that Carter was right--about one thing, anyway, before that little tidbit got back to her. Daniel was a child, in more than just the physical sense. Jack had seen himself, even in the short, few hours he'd actually spent alone in the kid's company, that aside from the limited memory of Jack and the rest of SG-1 Daniel still held, there didn't seem to be any of the adult Daniel's memories at all--not even remote traces. Oh, the boy was smart, no doubt about that, but the knowledge Daniel had held, the Jeopardy!-contestants-would-commit-bloody-murder-for-it general knowledge about nearly everything under any sun, was gone, replaced by a child's curiosity and simplistic world views.

They had to figure out some other, better way to distinguish them, Jack thought. 'Adult-Daniel' or 'Big-Daniel', and 'Little' or 'Child-Daniel' wasn't going to fly forever. 'Danny' and 'Daniel' wouldn't work either--for one thing, Daniel had been called 'Danny', even as an adult; even if only a very select few people had been permitted to use the nickname...

Jack sat back. Why even dwell on it? It wasn't like it was his responsibility to find a way to think about the kid formerly known as Daniel without applying some form of hypenated prefix to his name.

On the couch, Daniel rolled lethargically to his back, muttering to himself, legs moving restlessly. A small smile broke on Jack's face--Daniel had done that as an adult, too--paced in his sleep. Usually it was off-world, or even when they were Earth-side, when someone forced him to go to bed when he was on a geek-driven roll. Out of habit, Jack leaned forward slightly, attuning his hearing to the soft mutters, prepared to wake the sleeper if a nightmare happened to escalate. He caught a few snatches of words in English, interspersed with Arabic and a smattering of languages Daniel would have known by this age, mostly nonsense, but he caught his name and Carter's, and his face fell when the words "stay w'you, Jack," reached his ears.

With a sigh, Jack sat back again as Daniel's movements slowed and the murmuring stopped, his doubts and skepticism replaying itself in his head, leaving him feeling more conflicted--betrayed and angry, yet ashamed--than ever. Years ago, when Daniel had been captured by Nem and false memories of his death had been implanted in the rest of SG-1, Jack had sworn to never leave him behind again, a promise reinforced after the unauthorized 'mission' to stop Apophis and Klorel from reaching Earth. Whenever possible, however possible, Jack had tried to keep his promise--and here he was, Mr. Hypocrite himself, railing against Daniel for breaking his promise, while Jack was doing precisely the same thing.

"Shit," Jack snapped, not even realizing he'd spoken aloud until Daniel stirred and drowsy blue eyes blinked open in confusion.

"Hm?"

"Nothing," Jack said quietly. "Go back to sleep."

Daniel blinked slowly before complying, pushing himself back onto his stomach, face mashed into the cushions. The afghan was displaced again as he moved, and Jack automatically reached over to fix it.

'Daniel chose this.' Carter's words echoed in Jack's head as he headed into the kitchen for a coffee refill. Okay. So Daniel had chosen to become a child again, and he wanted to stay with Jack. Rannia had told them that Daniel's pain stemmed from not having what--or who--he needed when he needed them the first time around. Assuming that referred to his formative years after his parents died, and dollars to doughnuts it did, then the 'someone' Daniel was missing were parents. Guardians who loved and gave a damn, unlike some of the foster parents Jack knew Daniel had been saddled with.

"The boy absolutely adores you; everyone in the infirmary saw that when you brought him in."

Daniel had fixated on him--Jack O'Neill, who had sworn he wouldn't put any child through his disastrous brand of parenting again. "Damn it." Jack swore softly, under his breath, remembering the moment of pure relief he'd felt, the moment of joy when Daniel had greeted him on the planet, had stuck to him like glue back in the SGC. Carter said Daniel had been hounding after him since she'd brought the kid home.

Resettling himself in the armchair, Jack studied what was visible of the little face--so strange, yet familiar--and found his eyes inevitably drifting to the ever-present photograph of himself, Sara and Charlie; to Charlie's face, specifically. It scared him a little, looking at Charlie--for so long after his baby boy's death, his ever-present companion had been the deep-rooted guilt and the throb of agony that pulsed in his heart whenever he thought about Charlie. The past few years, though, without Jack's even noticing it, that gut-deep pain was less noticable. The unconquerable ravine that had torn his heart for so long had begun to heal, patching itself up without Jack's knowledge or consent. Now here he was, idling on the brink of possible fatherhood yet again.

Jack had loved being a father; there was no doubt about it, and even in his strongest moments he would admit that he missed having a little person waiting for him when he got home, with all that unshakable faith and love--to have something to have to come home to. If Daniel had chosen to become a child again because he thought Jack would be best to provide what he'd lost...

But what would his resignation to the fact say about his loyalty to his best friend? How could Jack just stop fighting to get back what Daniel had been, forget the strength, the passion, the uniqueness that was Daniel?

This Daniel snuffled into the cushions, a little frown line forming on his forehead. Once again anticipating a bad dream, Jack watched as Daniel's eyes popped open, staring glassily at him. He didn't move. "Daniel...?" he ventured softly.

"I want choc'late and 'nella swirls," Daniel said clearly, and his eyes closed again.

Jack stared, dumbfounded, and then he snickered, determinedly covering up a full-blown laugh, and imagined the blackmail mileage he could get out of this when...if Daniel would ever return to the way he was. Cute...even he had to admit that was cute...

But to have virtually nothing but persistent cuteness to buoy the foul mood that just thinking about the future possibilities of Daniel as a child brought on? Jack considered a rough equation. Daniel as a child equalled many endearingly adorable, childlike moments, which in turn equalled decent blackmail material for Jack to torture Daniel with if slash when he ever returned to his former state. However, present circumstances dictated that Daniel would have to grow up on his own...which changed the equation, big time, for the blackmail material would have to wait until Daniel had reached an age to understand it and the friendship he and Jack had shared. That in itself would take at least thirty years...

Jack figured he'd have to leave Daniel a long-term memo, because in thirty years, it didn't seem likely he would be in any position to begin teasing Daniel again. It wasn't as though Daniel could ever be a member of the 'old' SG-1 again. Jack swallowed the lump that found its way into his throat. If he were to fully accept this child into his life, all of those morbid thoughts had to take a back seat. He'd have to put aside his own feelings of disappointment and anger to give Daniel what he needed, and at that very moment, Jack wasn't so sure he could do that. A big part of him still hated the sight of Daniel like this, hated to see him so pitifully dependent and inept.

'Can things be anymore screwed up?'

=====

"Ooooh, see that, Jack?!" Daniel bounced along excitedly at Jack's side, pointing out a Great Dane that passed on the opposite side of the street with its owner. "That dog's taller'n me!" He craned his neck around as far as he could to watch the dog disappear around the corner.

Jack chuckled as Daniel's grip on his right hand strained as he attempted to get as much range from the limited grip as he could. "Jack, c'n we get ice cream after the park? 'Sokay if you say no, though--Sam said I should ask or else no one'll know what I want. 'Sthat rude? I thought it was, so I won't ask for anythin' if you think it is too."

The smile left Jack's face as Daniel's determined-to-please attitude reasserted itself. He felt like a shit; it was so glaringly obvious that Daniel's uncertainty was Jack's own fault. 'He was never afraid to ask for anything as an adult,' the Bastard Voice in his head sneered. 'Chalk something else up to the 'Cons' side of the board.' Jack shook his head slightly and squeezed the small hand in his. He had some major fixing to do, whether he wanted to do it or not. "No," he assured Daniel, "Ca--Sam's right. You have to ask for things, even if the answer's no, or else everyone will just think you'll do anything, even if you don't want to. And yeah, I think we can get ice cream."

"Goody!" Daniel chirped. "'Cause I was thinkin', and I know what kind I want!" His enthusiasm subsided and he paused, looking up at Jack. "What's your fave-rit kind, Jack?"

Jack saw an opportunity here, and couldn't help but smile slyly. "Oh, I'd have to say chocolate and vanilla swirl," he replied casually, a larger part than he'd care to admit enjoying the sight of Daniel's eyes bugging out to twice their normal diameter.

"That's my fave-rit kind too, Jack!"

"I know."

Daniel was mystified. "How d'you know?"

Jack shrugged nonchalantly, tugging the boy's hand to get him to turn in the direction of the park. "Oh, I'm afraid that's classified, but...let's just say a little bird told me."

=====

Jack wondered if they even had playgrounds in Egypt. Probably not, he assumed--not where Daniel had likely lived, anyway, roughing it on digs in the middle of the desert. What fell under the category of 'fun' in a place like that, he didn't know, and had never thought to ask Daniel what he did as a child. In any case, Daniel took one look at the maze of playground equipment, milling with kids younger, older and around his age, and immediately began bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet, leaning forward, whether consciously or unconsciously, pulling Jack's grip on his hand taut again. "So," Jack said. "You wanna...?"

Daniel had his eyes glued to the castle-like structure built from dark, rich wood with its grey plastic accessories--accessories that, including tunnels and tube slides, must have looked incredibly inviting to a kid who spent most of his life in dark, closed-in tombs. "Yeah," he breathed.

Jack let go of his hand and waved him ahead. "All right, knock yourself out." He pointed to an empty bench a few yards away. "I'll be sitting right over there, okay?"

The realization that Jack wasn't going to play with him gave Daniel pause, and he chewed his lower lip anxiously, gaze still darting back and forth between his guardian for the day and the inviting playground. "You can't come over with me?" he asked nervously.

"I'm a little big for the playground equipment," Jack pointed out. "And look--there are all kinds of kids over there who you can play with. I know a lot of the kids around here; they're all pretty cool." That, at least, was true--Jack had spent a lot of time visiting Cassie when she started attending the local elementary school, and, being honest, he enjoyed spending time with the kids. Seeing Daniel's uncertainty, Jack awkwardly patted his shoulder. "If you don't want to play on the playground, we can just go get ice cream, okay? But at least give it a chance."

"O-kay..."

Daniel approached the playground looking like it was going to attack him, casting glances back at Jack every few steps. Jack nodded encouragingly at him, and grinned when Daniel chose a plastic feature made to look like a rock climbing wall, where only one other child was playing. He climbed it carefully, still watching Jack watching him, and stepped up to the smallest of the slides--an open one, not one of the tube slides.

The bright smile Jack could make out on his face as he coasted to the bottom gave Jack permission to take a seat on the bench he'd been eyeing, and he did so, leaning back in the warm August sun to contemplate his current situation.

And what a situation. Despite what Carter seemed to think, Jack wasn't completely naïve to the way her mind worked. You didn't work so closely with someone for almost eight years without picking up on a few of their quirks or thought processes. She'd gambled and won that he wouldn't say 'no' to Daniel in front of the kid; had guessed that Jack would be put so off-balance that he wouldn't be able to think up an excuse not to look after the kid for the day. Even when she'd stood on his doorstep, spewing her 'oh so sorry' tale of how all their friends and co-workers were too busy on a Saturday to look after Daniel for a few hours, how Daniel would be too bored to accompany her on whatever errands she had to run, Jack had known better than to believe her. Jack knew what she was trying to do, but he'd be damned if she was going to force him to see things from her point of view--and, it seemed, from the point of view of everyone else at the SGC. He simply had too much to work through before he accepted this at face value.

She was crafty, that Carter--but Jack knew her angle. Whatever she wanted to throw his way, he'd be ready for. It wasn't as though she was being very inconspicuous about what she wanted from him, and he would just have to be more careful about giving her any openings.

"Ja-ack!"

Jack glanced up, seeing that Daniel was hovering halfway between the playground and his bench. "Yeah?"

"C'n I go in the tunnel?" Daniel pointed at two 'towers' of the castle playground where a tan-coloured horizontal tube was suspended between them. Jack waved him on.

"Sure. Just be careful."

Daniel gave a little shout of delight and beat a path over to the castle where a half-dozen or so other children were happily sliding, climbing and swinging on the monkeybars, ladders, fireman poles, swinging bridges and other such distractions.

=====

D'you like the big slide, Jack?"

Jack pulled the brim of his hat up, surprised to find Daniel standing in front of him again, studying him closely. "I thought you were in the tunnel."

"I was, but a little girl came over so I gave her a turn."

"Ah."

"So d'you like the big slide?" Daniel was warily eyeing the tallest of the slides on the playground--a stand-alone fixture, nearly seven feet high, a closed-in spiral slide. There was a hint of curiosity in the depths of his blue eyes, though, and Jack correctly guessed that he was merely looking for a little reassurance about embarking on that 'big kid's slide'. He straightened on the bench, matching Daniel's solemn expression.

"Yup. Actually, the slides were always my favourite parts of the playground."

"Why?"

Jack blew out his cheeks, thinking. "Oh, I dunno--I liked how fast you could go, especially in the winter. We would always push snow down the slide before we would go down; we'd fly off the edge and have contests to see who could go the farthest. There was something cool about sliding down through the dark and then flying out into the open."

Daniel smiled eagerly. "'Sthat why you like flyin' planes? Sam said you always usedta fly planes."

Jack smiled back, albeit faintly. "Yeah, I guess that was the start of it." He gestured toward the waiting tunnel slide. "Go ahead--you don't want to get caught up in a big line waiting for all the other kids to go, do you?"

Daniel eyed the slide calculatingly for a moment more, before breaking into a wide smile and shaking his head. Before Jack could say another word, he took off toward the playground again.

=====

"Who're you?"

Having tired himself out on the slide and now in the process of finding a new source of entertainment, Daniel looked up in surprise as he walked under the monkey bars, seeing a dark-haired boy, older than he was by at least a couple of years, lying face-down on the top of them rather than hanging by his hands or knees as a couple of other children were doing. "I'm Daniel," he said with a bright smile. "What's your name?"

"Jason. Is that your dad?"

Daniel followed the older boy's gaze over to where Jack was sitting on the same bench he'd been occupying for the past little while, talking to a couple of other men, and gnawed his lower lip a little. There was little doubt that Jason had parents to take care of him, and even though Daniel loved Sam, he still missed his parents and the security and love he felt knowing there were two adults who would do anything for him. Would Jack really mind if he told one tiny fib just to keep the other kids from laughing at him for not having any parents? "Uh-huh," he finally said bravely, daring the other boy to say otherwise.

Jason scoffed, and Daniel decided he didn't like him at all. "He's not," Jason contradicted dismissively. "I know him--that's Colonel Jack. He comes to my school sometimes," he said proudly, "and he doesn't have any kids. Anymore."

"Yes he does. He does too," Daniel shot back, head still tilted back so he could glare up at the confrontational boy. "'Cause I am."

"Yeah right. Prove it," Jason sneered.

Daniel slid a furtive glance back over to Jack--two of the men he'd been talking to were gone and only one was left, sitting beside him and watching a little blond girl go down the twirly slide. "Okay," he said simply. Jack wouldn't mind. Jason was mean--Jack would be on Daniel's side just to teach him a lesson about teasing.

The boy on the monkey bars chuckled a little and allowed himself to slither between two of the bars, landing on his feet. Daniel flinched involuntarily when he took in the height of the other--he was a full head taller than Daniel. "Okay," the antagonist repeated. "Go on; prove it."

Without hesitating, Daniel marched across the sand pit of the playground and ducked under the wooden castle, taking a shortcut to the opposite side of the playground and the parents' benches. As he and Jason moved to just inside the concealing shadows on the opposite side of the castle, Daniel could hear Jack and the man talking.

"...little guy with you, huh?"

"Yeah, that's Daniel," Jack said. "He's staying with me..."

"Ah, that's great O'Neill. You adopt him, or what?"

Jack sounded a little put off by that. "No," he said quickly. "No, he's staying with a fellow officer. She had things to do today so I'm, uh..."

The other man laughed understandingly. "You got saddled with babysitting duties, huh?"

"Yeah." The two of them laughed quietly and Daniel turned away, face flaming, coming face-to-chest with Jason, who barked out a mocking laugh.

"Told you so!" he jeered. "Colonel Jack's just babysitting you! Babysitters don't wanna be daddies; that's why they're babysitters. They don't want kids of their own but they just borrow kids 'til they get tired of 'em!"

Daniel brushed past the other boy and ran back for the plastic tunnel which had seemed so inviting and mysterious at first, but now just seemed like a temporary hiding place to get away from the prying eyes of the cruel older boy and the condemning laughter of Jack and his friend. He settled himself right in the middle of the tunnel, dashing at his eyes and pressing his forehead into his bare knees. Why did he have to go and tell that boy Jack was his daddy? Now that boy would tell Jack the next time Jack went to the school, and Jack would laugh at him again, and the boy would laugh, and then Jack would tell everyone, all the other men he talked to...

No, he told himself, Jack wouldn't do that, because Rana said Jack was his best friend, had been his best friend even longer than Sam and Teal'c had been his other best friends, and best friends didn't laugh at each other. Even if Jack was just his babysitter for today, Jack loved him--Sam had told him so, had promised him.

He was being stupid. Jack wouldn't laugh at him--he wasn't laughing at him. Daniel hoped Jack hadn't seen him run away, because Sam told him to stay with Jack all the time, and Jack told him to stay out of trouble. He didn't want Jack to think he was making trouble. So, swiping at his treacherous eyes once more with grubby fists, Daniel crawled hesitantly out of the tunnel and spotted Jack wandering around the perimeter of the playground, no doubt searching for him. "Hey, there you are," Jack said, crossing the playground. "It's getting late; what do you say we head out and get ice cream, and then I'll cook up some dinner back at my place?"

Daniel looked around the playground to see if the mean boy was anywhere in sight, but he and Jack's friend were gone, so he nodded and stood up on the wooden platform, realizing he was taller than Jack up here. He started to reach out for Jack to help him down, but Jack was looking across the playground. "Want to take one more slide before we go?" he asked Daniel. "Go ahead; I'll wait for you."

Daniel blinked. He didn't really care if he had one more slide, but Jack said the slides were his favourite, so he probably wanted them to be Daniel's favourite too. "Okay," Daniel said, injecting more enthusiasm than he felt into the word. He crossed the shaky bridge to one of the twirly slides and sat at the top for just a moment before he heard the footsteps of another child on the aluminum stairs. Then he closed his eyes and pushed off, sliding quickly through the dark tunnel and getting spat out the open end. He couldn't suppress a giggle as he landed, but hurried to his feet and ran from the playground, secretly glad it was time to go home and hoping he wouldn't have to come back here anytime soon.

=====

"Hey, hold up."

Daniel paused and looked back, realizing Jack had fallen a few paces behind, hand on one of the shop doors. "Don't you want ice cream?" he asked, reading Daniel's questioning expression.

Right! Daniel skipped back to where Jack was waiting, a genuinely eager smile on his face. "You okay?" Jack asked as Daniel preceded him inside the small ice cream shop.

"Uh-huh," Daniel said, already on his tiptoes, nose pressed against the chilly glass of the freezer.

"Bit tired, are you?" Jack guessed.

"Little."

"Okay...you still want chocolate and vanilla swirl, right?"

Daniel nodded quickly. "Yup!" His smile widened as Jack ordered two of the same size cones--three scoops, compared to the two Sam let him have! Jack returned his smile as he handed off the ice cream cone, and Daniel immediately set to work on it, licking all around the edges to keep the ice cream from dripping down the cone onto his hand.

"Wanna race?" Jack challenged, holding the door of the ice cream shop open for Daniel, who was nearly cross-eyed trying to watch his ice cream as he licked it.

"Race...?" Daniel echoed uncertainly.

Jack nodded somberly. "Yup. First one to finish all their ice cream gets..."

"T'drive home?"

"You wish."

Daniel giggled. "Then whaaaat?"

"First one to finish up gets to...decide what we have for supper?"

Daniel made a face; that didn't really sound like a really fun prize; he wasn't feeling very hungry. But Jack was offering to start a game, and Daniel didn't want to disappoint him, so he broadened his smile. "Okay," he agreed.

"All right. Ready?"

"Uh-huh."

"Set..."

Daniel opened his mouth halfway, ready to stuff the ice cream in.

"1..."

"Okay."

"2..."

Daniel's jaw was starting to get tired!

"2 and a half..."

"Jaaaaacccck!" Daniel chastised, dissolving into a fit of giggles. Jack, seeing his opponent was incapacitated, quickly said "Go!" and began devouring his own ice cream.

"No fair!" Daniel shrieked, and started eating his extra-fast to compensate for Jack's cheating. He didn't get very far at that speed, though, and he stopped eating his at the same time as Jack, who was wearing a pained expression. "'Swrong?" he forced out through gritted teeth.

"Brain-freeze!"

=====

=====

Jack hefted Daniel's limp weight to one hip as he juggled the keys in his right hand, searching for the house key. He finally managed the lock and pushed inside, grunting with effort as he swung through and lightly kicked the door shut with the flat of his foot. Without bothering to toe off his shoes, Jack carried Daniel down to the spare room and settled the warm, pliant, sticky body on top of the covers. Leaning over him, Jack pulled the sandals from both small feet, spilling what seemed like a good handful of sand from the playground out of each one onto the floor.

Jack sighed and straightened, tugging at his own damp t-shirt with a grimace. Preach all they wanted about the miracle of parenthood, there were some things parents never quite got attached to...and a sleepy, clingy body plastered against a parent in the middle of a heatwave was one of those things. Daniel had dozed off mid-sentence shortly after the ice cream 'race', right in the middle of the sidewalk--victim, it seemed, to the fatigue that still dogged him from his time on the alien planet. Jack had had no choice but to carry him back to the truck, the kid's arms twining around his neck automatically, ice cream-y fingers pressed against the back of Jack's neck and an equally ice cream-y and sweaty face jammed against the side.

It was only four-thirty in the afternoon--plenty of time for a quick shower before getting dinner started. Daniel hadn't specified a preferred dish for supper, so Jack decided he'd just wing it and throw a steak on the barbecue for himself and a small pork chop for Daniel. There would be potatoes and carrots, so if the meat wasn't appealing, he could just pick away at some veggies.

He paused in the doorway and glanced back at Daniel, still sprawled on his back. It was mid-August, but would the kid get cold? Daniel had gotten chilled easily as an adult...

Jack shook his head and opened the small closet, reaching up to the top shelf for the spare quilt he kept, spreading it at Daniel's feet, counting on the assumption that if Daniel got cold he'd feel the warmth on his feet and move for it.

Maybe some things didn't change.

=====

"Sorry I'm late, sir," Carter said sheepishly, edging in the door Jack stepped aside to open. "Traffic was unbelievable."

"Hmm." Jack hummed noncommitally--and, he hoped, disbelievingly--and closed the heavy door behind Carter, keeping himself there, leaned against it with his arms crossed. "I'm sure it was."

"Sam! Hi Sam!" Daniel came running out of the living room and flung his arms--now conspicuously clean of the afternoon's ice cream excursion--around her legs in a hug that was enthusiastically returned.

"Hey there! Did you have a good day?"

"Yup! Jack'n'me went to the park, and then we had an ice cream race! Then we had supper, an' Jack lemme have a steak all to myself! I ate every bite, too!"

Carter shot Jack a look of mild approval, and Jack shrugged. "Actually, it was a pork chop."

Carter rolled her eyes at the deliberate misinterpretation of her look, and returned her attention to Daniel, who was prattling on about everything he'd done that day, including the breakfast fiasco. "Hey," Jack interrupted, knowing already that the kid could run on indefinitely if there wasn't some kind of intervention. "Sam's had a pretty long day today; what do you say you get her home and tuck her in?"

Daniel's face fell, and he glanced entreatingly between Jack--'Not the puppy dog eyes, kid'--and Carter. "If I go home, can I come back to visit?" he begged. "Pleeeease?"

Jack made an indecipherable noise, conscious of Carter narrowing her eyes at him. "Maybe Jack would like some company tonight," she suggested in a clearly daring tone. 'Well Carter, two can play this game.'

Jack ignored the wide, Entreating Blue Eyes of Death fixed on him pleadingly--not an easy task--and met Carter's challenging gaze square-on, making sure she could see that her gumption wasn't appreciated at the moment. 'Not this time.' "Actually, I've got a lot of things to do tonight," he said casually, not bothering to add 'Maybe some other time'--Carter could be like a hungry pit bull if you threw her a bone.

"Sir--"

You see?

'Focus, O'Neill. Lay down the law.' "Carter!" Jack slashed a hand through the air, intercepting the protest "Just...stop. Stop. All right? Stop. No matter how hard you try, no matter how many stunts you pull, you can't make this," he gestured between Daniel and himself, "work. You can't force this to happen. It's not gonna happen; he isn't who he used to be--he can't be, because practically everything that made him Daniel, he forgets!"

Carter's eyes blazed with unmitigated anger. "If you would open your eyes and look--"

"You can't make this what you want it to be, Carter!" Jack shouted. "You may just be able to jump in blind, but I can't this time. Do you understand that? As much as you want him to feel like he belongs here, that he can just slide his way back into normal routines and not get a second look, a second thought, he can't." On a roll, Jack turned his ire on Daniel, whose wounded, uncertain gaze flickered uncertainly and a little fearfully between the two warring adults. "You chose this," he said, jabbing a finger toward the boy, "not me. I don't have to accept this, and I sure as hell don't have to change the way I do things just because you wanted this. If she wants to drag you into all the little schemes to get me all buddy-buddy with you, let me just tell you this: don't. Even. Try. Who you were--not 'are'; were--isn't who you are now, and I need to do a hell of a lot more thinking before we take this merry little romp along the yellow brick road all the way to Oz."

"You're right sir," Sam said, forcing a calmness to her tone that she didn't feel; not by a long shot. "I can't make you get it through your thick skull that this is Daniel, and I shouldn't try anymore. Not because you don't want us to try, but because you don't deserve him."

"Sam...?" Daniel squeaked. He didn't care if Jack wanted him to be different; he could be--he wanted that warm, safe feeling he had knowing Jack was there. That was all. He'd do whatever he had to do to get it back.

But Sam had other ideas, and without another word to Jack, she grabbed Daniel's backpack, seized Daniel's hand, and pushed past Jack to open the door and lead Daniel out onto the front step. "Sam--" he begged, not understanding. What was going on? Why was Jack so mad at him? What had he done wrong? Jack was hollering about choosing 'this'--'this'; was 'this' about Rana helping him? Jack couldn't be mad about that; Sam told him Jack wasn't mad, but he was just confused. Now Daniel was confused, because people didn't holler when they were confused--at least, he didn't. And Sam didn't, because she'd told him that she and Teal'c were a little confused too...but they didn't yell at him and make him feel bad.

"We'll talk when we get home, all right sweetie?" Sam sounded a lot less scary now that they were out of Jack's house; her voice was quiet again, the voice she used when Daniel asked her questions that he would understand were hard for her to answer by the way she answered him. She didn't pull so much on his arm now, either; as they got to the end of Jack's driveway, Sam was walking at a normal speed, one Daniel didn't have to try so hard to keep up with. He didn't answer her, but turned his head in time to see Jack's front door close. Sam lifted him into his booster seat and buckled him in, giving him a kiss on the forehead and telling him things would be okay, not to worry...but Daniel didn't listen, and as Sam pulled the car away from Jack's house, Daniel felt a pang of horrible realization, something that might just have made Jack so mad that he wouldn't ever want Daniel to come back again; something Sam told him not to forget.

He hadn't said thank you.

=====

When Carter blew past him and shepherded Daniel out the door, Jack watched through a veil of anger as she marched Daniel down the driveway toward her car...then his senses kicked in and he closed the door firmly shut, blocking his view, and he slumped against the frame with a sigh.

If he didn't face it, it wasn't real.

If he didn't accept it, believe it, it would change.

He could change it.

Almost seven years ago, when Daniel had been presumed dead on Oannes, SG-1's memories futzed with to make them believe he was dead, Jack couldn't accept it. Something told him that what he remembered wasn't quite right, and he devoted every waking moment to trying to sort it all out. A few days later, a little worse for wear but safe and sound, Daniel was home.

The next year, when, trying to stop Apophis and Klorel from reaching Earth and Daniel had been mortally wounded on Klorel's ship, leaving Jack with no choice but to leave him behind, Jack had railed against the futility of his efforts to save Daniel's life. Hours later, he was squeezing the shit out of the younger man in the 'gateroom, celebrating a survival that seemed nothing short of miraculous.

Even when Daniel had ascended, Jack's refusal to grieve and accept the apparent finality of death paid off when Daniel proved he was still up to his old habits during Jack's...enforced stay in Baal's fortress.

All these years, the strangest situations...everything always turned out right.

It had been almost a week now.

Jack wasn't dealing, wasn't accepting.

So why wasn't it changing?

====

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