Sam turned off the ignition and set the brake on her vintage Volvo.  For a long moment, she stared at her C.O.'s house, noting the several cars already parked in the drive and along nearby curbs. 

She took a deep breath.  This was bound to be the most unusual birthday party she'd ever had.  Either a huge hit or a disaster.  Oh, well.  If it was a flop, she could always blame the colonel.  It had all been his idea.

She had to admit, however, that she'd been fascinated ever since he'd returned from that Christmas trip to the coast bubbling over with stories of Daniel and his friends.  And she'd been astounded when she'd actually heard Daniel play his guitar.  So when, with her birthday approaching, O'Neill had hinted that it might be fun to spring a musical surprise on the rest of their friends, she'd been intrigued enough to go along with it.

How it had come to this, she had no idea.  A musical party.  Bring your own… instrument.  And here she was, without a musical ability to her name.  One song, carefully coached into her untalented bones by the world's most patient—and persistent—teacher.  God, maybe they'd let the Birthday Girl get away with a pass.

Shaking her head, she got out of the car and approached the door.  It was flung open when she was still ten feet away, revealing the grinning visage of her immediate superior.

"Carter!  Happy birthday!  C'mon in." 

As he reached out to tug her through the door, a taxi pulled up at the end of the drive.  The back door popped open to release a tall, curly haired man.

"Ian!  Welcome!  Why didn't you call for a ride!"

The man laughed brightly.  "Nah.  Figured you'd have your hands full."

"Here, Ian… meet the Birthday Girl, Sam Carter."

Sam couldn't have choked back the smile if she'd been ordered.  The man caressing her hand was completely lovely.  He was an inch or so shorter than the colonel, body thin and vigorous.  Riotous curly red hair was confined at the back of his neck, tumbling down between his shoulders.  His eyes were brilliantly green, and examined her with wicked appreciation.

"'Allo, love."  Oh, God.  The accent was deadly.  "Happy Birthday."

Maintaining eye contact, he grasped her hand and lifted it to his lips, placing a small kiss on the knuckle of her index finger.

Woo hoo!  Who cared about the music part.  She'd have happily consigned herself to a few hours of humiliation just for the fun she knew this man was going to provide.

"Thank you, kind sir," she teased back.

He laughed and winked at her, then turned to intercept the taxi driver, who had his head in the trunk.

"Hold on, mate.  Let me take those…"

Jack moved toward the trunk to help with luggage, waving a hand vaguely in the direction of the still open door. 

"Go on, Carter.  Get settled in; do the rounds.  Ian's staying in the guest room.  I'll get him taken care of, then we'll join the fun.  Still got quite a few folks coming, so we won't be getting any of the good stuff started for a bit." 

She exchanged a happy grin with him, cast one final lustful look over her shoulder at the rear end now protruding from the taxi's trunk, then headed toward the still open door.

Sam found herself stepping into a hum of chatter and disorganized scraps of music.  She paused for a moment to greet Siler, noting the big, apparently well-used guitar cradled in his lap.  All those hours stolen to work on her bike, and she'd never suspected a musical interest.  And Sergeant Streager, tuning his own strings.  She choked back a chuckle at the sight of the big Marine fiddling with a delicate looking little instrument—mandolin?  Who'd have thought!

Maybe this was a great idea after all.  All these people worked side by side, in dangerous and sometimes terrifying circumstances.  It might just be a wonderful thing to give them a chance to introduce this unsuspected side of themselves to each other. 

"Sam!  Happy Birthday!"  She turned just in time to be engulfed in the joint embraces of Janet and Cassie Fraiser.

"Hi, guys!  Glad you made it.  Oh, aren't we lovely!"  She laughed fondly at Cassandra, dressed in a tight sweater and very short skirt, hair and makeup obviously prepared with a great deal of care.  "When did you get so big, sweetheart?"

The incipient pout at implied criticism softened into an affectionate moue of reprimand.  "Not big, Sam!  Just… adult."

Sam lifted a skeptical eyebrow.  "Oh, yeah?  We'll see.  How about a bit of one-on-one next weekend?  Bet I can still spot you five and win."

Cassie obviously wrestled with her grown-up self, then grinned with the insouciance of youth.  "You're on.  You're also dead meat!"

Janet laughed.  "Oh, so grown up."  She kissed her adopted daughter and directed her toward the kitchen.  "Go find something to munch on, honey.  Who knows where tonight's entertainment is going to take us!"

The two women intertwined arms and moved slowly toward the glass door to the deck.

"God, Janet.  She's leaving us behind."

"I know.  Guess this is what you get when you get them already half grown… before you've figured out parenthood, they're all grown up."

"And you're so sorry you took her on…"

"Not!"

They laughed at their simultaneous exclamations as they stepped out onto the deck.  They were met by the sounds of a fiddle playing bits and pieces of a variety of tunes.  A young woman Sam vaguely remembered seeing in uniform in the halls of the SGC was apparently warming up her instrument.

"That sounds really great… Tailor, is it?  Airman Tailor?"

The fiddler lowered her bow and reached to shake hands.  "Yes, ma'am.  Joan Tailor."

"I had no idea we had a fiddler in our midst!  You know that one of Dr. Jackson's friends is also a fiddler, don't you?"

"Yes, ma'am."  Tailor's lips quirked in an uncertain smile. 

Sam smiled at her.  "I think we could be a bit more informal, don't you?  Seeing as how this is my birthday party."

"Yes, ma'am.  I mean…" 

Sam laughed.  "How about ‘Sam,' just for tonight."

"Yes, ma… Sam."  She smiled tentatively.  "I'd heard about the fiddler.  I hope we can play together a bit."  She flushed slightly.  "That's the most fun thing about fiddling… playing together.  Improvising."

Sam grinned at her.  "Well, from what I hear, Daniel's friend will be delighted with that idea.  At least two of you are going to have a good time today."

Tailor laughed, relaxing a bit.  "I hope so.  How did Dr. Jackson come to know a fiddler?"

"Met him in college, so I hear."  Sam and Janet pulled the young woman toward the house.  "Come on, let's get something to drink and find ourselves a corner somewhere before Daniel gets here, shall we?  Maybe later you can get them to tell you the story."

Laughing, the three moved back into the house, one of them still distinctly nervous in her exalted company.  They stepped into the open living area of the house just as Jack and his guest emerged from the back regions.  Airman Tailor stopped abruptly, staring at the two men.  Her mouth slowly dropped open, eyes widening in awe.

"Oh, my God," she whispered.  "Oh, God."

"Joan?  Airman Tailor?"  Sam shook her slightly.

"Th… that's… that's Ian C… Conrad."  Her voice was shaking.  Sam and Janet grabbed her arms and eased her down onto a convenient footstool.  "Ian Conrad…"  The worship in her voice was palpable.

"That's Daniel's friend from England," Sam said gently.

"Ian Conrad…"  Glazed hazel eyes attested to her lack of attention.

Sam and Janet exchanged amused smiles, then Sam gestured to the colonel, indicating that he should bring his companion over to the three women.

Tailor's eyes remained glued on Ian's face, seeming to grow larger with every step he took in her direction.

The young man quirked an eyebrow at Sam.  "And who might your lovely friends be, Birthday Sam?"

Janet slipped her fingers into his offered hand, returning his roguish smile.  "Janet Fraiser.  And you're Daniel's Ian."

"The same.  And… ?"  He tilted his curly head toward the seated woman.  The overwhelmed airman's head was tilted back at an acute angle, gaze locked on his face.

Sam bit her lip, trying desperately to contain her amusement.   "This is Joan Tailor.  She's a fiddler.  She's looking forward to playing with you."

His face creased with delight.  "Lovely!  Daniel never told me he had another fiddler for me!"

Sam shrugged ruefully.  "Well, I don't think any of us is sure just what we're going to hear.  We just sort of said, ‘bring anything you've got that makes music,' and crossed our fingers."

"Forging into the unknown…" Jack added, winking at his major.

Ian's bubble of laughter set them all off.  "Oh lord, an adventure!"  As their laughter calmed, he crouched down in front of the still-silent airman, voice gentling.  "Hey, love.  You gonna play with me?" 

She started, then whipped the instrument she clutched in her hands behind her back, shaking her head in panic.  "Oh, no.  I… I… I couldn't.  You're Ian Conrad!  I can't play with Ian Conrad!"

He grinned at her. "Sure you can.  Just another fiddler.  How do you think anyone gets to be good if they don't play with other folks?  C'mon…"  He urged her to her feet.  "We can go warm up.  Then we'll be ready to raise the roof when things get started, right?  And speaking of which…"  He slipped his arm around the now-standing woman's waist and turned to the colonel.  "Jack, you're gonna want to get Daniel set up and playing soon as he gets here.  Let him get one good look at this lot…"  he waved his free hand at the growing crowd of guests, "… and he'll never take that guitar out of the case.  Ambush him."

Jack laughed, handing the other man the violin case he'd been carrying.  "You got it.  Go off and woo your new friend here, but keep your ears open.  The three of you are our ringers—you get to start the noisy part of this festivity off."

Grinning and waving the case, Ian shepherded his dazed acolyte toward the back of the house.

"Wow!"  Janet shook her head.  "I guess I never adequately understood the meaning of the word ‘groupie' before.  That is one dazzled young woman!  Cassie wasn't that bad when she was obsessed with N'Sync!"

Jack grinned at the receding backs of the fiddlers.  "Well, I've sort of been following Ian for the last few months.  He's kind of like the Brad Pitt of the fiddling crowd.  And yes," he smirked, "there is indeed a fiddling crowd.  And he's one of their gods."

Sam shook her head as they moved back into the middle of the living room.  "I didn't realize he was that good.  I mean, Sir, not that your opinion isn't reliable…"

"Yes, Carter?"  His brows quirked upward, eyes suspicious.

"Well, Sir, you have to admit that you couldn't exactly be considered an expert on this kind of music, and you… well…"

"Are you implying that I might have been a bit too easily impressed, Major Carter?"

"Ah… not exactly… just… well…"  She scowled at him.  "Well, yes, exactly!"

His fierce frown shifted to a grin.  "You're right.  But I've learned since.  And, Carter, he is that good.  Which means that Daniel's that good as well.  You've heard him play, but you haven't heard him with Ian.  And Janet, I don't think you've heard him at all.  I hope you're both prepared to be knocked right on those shapely little butts, because I don't think you've ever heard anything like what you're gonna hear today."  He rubbed his hands together grinning in sharkish glee, looking around the room at the guests assembled.  "None of you…"

Janet and Sam exchanged an indulgent look.  Oh, the colonel was enjoying having his big secret to spring on the personnel of the SGC.

Janet prodded him in the ribs.  "Well, you just might be surprised once or twice yourself, you smug bastard.  Daniel's not the only closet musician here today." 

With an arch parting look at his suddenly speculative face, she pulled Sam toward an unoccupied half of the couch.

Sam was still giggling at his expression as she sank into the welcoming softness of the cushions.  "You, Janet?  Where's your… bassoon… balalaika… tuba… ?"

Her friend laughed.  "Nowhere.  He just needed taking down a degree or two.  Tell me—is Daniel really that surprising?"

Sam leaned back, tilting her head to gaze at the ceiling.  She recalled the first time she'd heard Daniel play—incredibly sweet, delicate music… intricate and very personal.  "Oh, yes."  She sighed reminiscently.  "But I have to admit that, considering what I've heard, I can't imagine him playing the kind of music a fiddler plays.  So maybe the colonel is right, and I'm going to be stunned right along with the rest of you.  Of course, nothing will compare to the… amazement… you're going to experience when I do my party piece.  You've heard me sing."

Janet's brows rose.  "You're going to sing?  Are you sure that's wise?"

Sam mock-frowned and elbowed the other woman.  "Yes, if I can't get out of it.  Actually, Daniel's been drilling me.  Spent hours and hours trying to make me sound like something other than a drain that's finally gotten unclogged.  It wouldn't be fair to him not to go ahead and humiliate myself."

"Oh, I can't wait.  I've heard you sing.  ‘Row, row, row your boat…'"

"Janet!"  Sam slapped a hand over Janet's mouth.  "Ixnay!  Tell me you didn't keep those tapes!"

A startled exclamation directed their attention toward the front door just in time to see Teal'c maneuvering through the suddenly too small opening, carrying a large, round object enclosed in a soft protective covering.

"Hey, Teal'c old buddy.  Ah… wanna find some place for your friend there to sit?"

"This is not a friend, O'Neill.  It is a karushna."

The colonel's brows tweaked.  "Oooo-kay.  And what's a karushna when it's at home?"

Teal'c's raised brows and tilted head did not compliment the other man.  "It is a musical instrument.  Were we not to bring such to this gathering?"

O'Neill's eyes widened as he examined the mysterious object.  "A… big musical instrument."

Teal'c nodded serenely, attention now focused on the cloth covering of his karushna.  "Indeed."

"Ah… just what kind of music does it make?"

The soft cloth fell away, revealing a large, round drum head.  Large as in at least three feet in diameter.  The body of the karushna was about ten inches deep, crossed on the back by a thick support with a centrally placed slot obviously designed to accommodate fingers. 

Teal'c carefully wiped the surface of the drum with a soft rag.  "It is a drum, O'Neill.  I am sure you have seen such before."

O'Neill scowled at the big Jaffa.  "Of course I've seen drums before.  Just never saw one quite that big."

Teal'c smiled and tapped his fingers gently on the taut skin of the karushna's head.  The soft sound was deep and throbbing, tickling the body right down to the center of every bone. 

"Wow."  Janet stood and moved closer to the Jaffa.  "May I look, Teal'c?"

He nodded graciously, holding the drum out so she could inspect its construction. 

"It's lovely!  Like a bodhran, only… huge."  She looked up at his proud face.  "Where on Earth did you get a skin big enough!"

He glanced around to assure that only SGC personnel were close enough to hear.  "Not on Earth, Dr. Fraiser," he said softly.  "Major Griff was kind enough to oblige when SG-2 accidentally killed that large herbivore on P2R 777."

O'Neill gaped at the Jaffa.  "You… you mean you tanned that thing… Just where did this take place?  I don't remember the stink…"

"We utilized an empty storage chamber on the twenty-third level.  The hide for a karushna must be very carefully prepared."

"So you made it yourself!  Incredible."  Janet gently brushed her fingers over the satin-smooth wood of the frame, then ran one along the inner brace.  "An amazing piece of work."

"I was most grateful for the assistance of Sergeant Siler," he intoned.  Siler raised his thumb in appreciation of the nod of gratitude directed his way. 

Shaking his head in bemusement, O'Neill waved vaguely toward the seated technician. 

"Find a place to sit, Teal'c.  So far, you're the entire percussion section, so be prepared to make a lot of noise."

"That should not be a problem, O'Neill."

As the big man moved majestically into the room, a commotion arose outside, in the front of the house.

"Yes!"  O'Neill's face was split by a grin.  "Daniel!  On your feet, Sam.  Time for more meet ‘n' greet."

As Sam hauled herself to her feet, the colonel grabbed one of the tall bar stools and plopped it in the middle of the living room.  He raised his finger in a classic forbidding attitude, rotating around to make sure all of the guests in the room understood.  Hands off; stool taken.

Sam shook her head as she passed the off-limits stool.  "Maybe you should explain, Sir?"

"Nope.  They'll figure it out.  Come meet the rest of Daniel's folks."

Daniel's folks.  Even now that sounded strange.  She'd always thought Daniel didn't have any folks.  Now he had them coming out of the cracks in the walls.

She trailed through the door behind the colonel.  There were actually two new vehicles at the curb.  General Hammond was being introduced to the two people who had arrived with Daniel, shaking the tall man's hand firmly, smiling sweetly down at the rather plump little woman.

Daniel turned from the greetings at the curb and hugged Sam enthusiastically. 

"Happy birthday!  You look terrific!"

She pulled back and smugly stroked her royal-blue suede jacket, Janet's early gift.  "Thank you, kind sir.  Introduce me?"

He pulled her toward the small group at the curb, touching the tall, balding man's shoulder.  "Jason?  Beth?"

They turned to him, affection sparkling in both pairs of eyes.

"This is Sam.  Sam, Beth…"  He leaned down to kiss her cheek.  "… and Jason." 

The small woman took Sam's hands and grinned up at her.  "Oh, my.  Daniel didn't tell me how lovely you were.  Happy birthday, my dear. "  She giggled mischievously up at Sam.  "And thank you for having a birthday party so we could come check out Daniel's digs"  She winked as she reached for Daniel's arm. 

Jason was also smiling at Sam.  "I really am going to have to have a talk with Daniel.  He didn't warn me.  Should have packed my big guns…"

To her mortification, Sam felt her cheeks reddening.  "Ah, well…"  Damn. 

"Hey!"  The colonel's shaking finger intruded between them.  "None of that sort of thing.  You want to make with the hanky panky, wait until tomorrow.  Don't spoil my party by making me have to chase after the two of you!"

"Your party!"  Daniel shook his head, stooping to remove a small instrument case and a round, cloth enclosed object from the trunk of the car.  "I thought this was Sam's party."

"Don't you believe it, Daniel."  Sam shook her head sorrowfully.  "He just took advantage of me having a birthday to throw his party.  I'm just a necessary evil."

Jason smiled and slipped his arm through hers, stooping to pick up the guitar case by his feet.  "Oh, I can't imagine that's true.  Let's go inside and discuss it, shall we?"

Sam glanced apologetically over her shoulder as he escorted her toward the house, trying to control her grin by clamping her teeth on her lower lip.  "Sorry, folks.  See you later…"

Vaguely, she was aware of the laughter behind her.

<<<<<>>>>> [02]

Sam looked up from introducing Jason to Janet and Cassie, just in time to see Daniel walk through the door and halt abruptly, wide eyes sweeping over the considerable crowd.  He took a step backward, right into Jack.  The colonel grasped his arm and plucked the round, suspiciously familiar looking object from suddenly slack hands.

O'Neill turned his head in her direction, catching her eyes and mouthing, "Find Ian."

Ian wasn't hard to locate.  The happy sounds of fiddles frolicking together had been seeping in from the deck.  She slipped out the glass door and waved, eyebrows high. 

"Daniel's here?"

"Yep.  And you've been summoned."

His eyes twinkled.  "Nobody summons me, love.  But I will deign to join the festivities."

He turned to the flushed young woman next to him.  "Shall we, lass?"  He offered his arm.

Expression still glowing with hero-worship, Tailor accepted, and the pair moved toward Sam.  They stepped back into the house to find Daniel sitting on the colonel's stool, face pale, eyes downcast as he tuned his beautiful guitar.  Jason stood in front of him, also tuning, and incidentally screening Daniel from a clear view of most of the crowd.

Ian hissed and shook his head.  "Too slow, Jack.  Too slow."

He looked around quickly, finding a seat for Joan, kissing her hand as he left her.  Then he joined Jason, standing close to Daniel, creating a private space for the three of them as they prepared their instruments.

"What was that all about?"  Sam turned to find Janet beckoning her toward the couch.

She tucked herself into the indicated space between Janet and Cassie, smiling and nodding at the General sitting at the other end of the couch.

"Daniel doesn't perform.  I guess it's one of those reflexive nervous things.  Ian said they need to get him playing before he starts to think too much about all the people."

Cassie giggled.  "You mean he's shy."

Sam joined her laughter.  "Essentially… yes."

"Well, like that's news!"

Their attention was diverted by a commotion across the room.  Beth's delighted voice chimed over Teal'c's deep tones, chattering excitedly.  She was stroking and examining his karushna.  His pleasure at her admiration was obvious.

They made a wonderful pair.  The top of her head barely reached his chest; he bent almost double to place his eyes level with hers.  She was soft and a bit plump, he rather overwhelmingly muscular and hard.  But they were obviously achieving a significant meeting of minds.

Beth lifted her finger, then looked a bit vaguely around the room.  Exclaiming in triumph, she hopped over and caught up the round, cloth enclosed object the colonel had left leaning against the wall beside the front door.  She tenderly removed the cloth bag as she moved back to Teal'c's side, revealing the tiny sister of Teal'c's massive drum. 

Janet's laughter quivered against Sam's side.  "A bodhran!  See, I told you."

Indeed, the small, hand-held drum was very similar to Teal'c's instrument.  His elegant brows arched in pleased surprise as he took the instrument in his hands, turning it over to examine the underside.  Sam grinned.  She'd never thought she'd witness the big Jaffa literally ‘chattering,' but his interchange with Beth really couldn't be described any other way.

She was still chuckling when Colonel O'Neill stepped into the center of the room, standing beside the three young men.

"Okay, folks.  Time to get this shindig underway!"  Hoots and laughter drowned him out.  "Hey!  I'm taking names, here!"  More laughter greeted his playful scowl, but the noise gradually abated.  "All right!  Now, I'm sure you've noticed that this isn't your normal, everyday sort of party.  Aside from the occasion…"  He gestured and bowed toward Sam, accompanied by more shouts and applause.  "Many thanks to Major Carter for admitting to one more year… though the exact total is classified ‘Need to Know,' and none of us has yet managed to demonstrate that need…"  He favored her with a jaunty salute, which she returned briskly.  "Now, time for a confession.  I definitely had an ulterior motive for bullying Sam into letting me throw this party.  I'm about to… Damn!"

The chime of the doorbell interrupted him again.  He glared fiercely at the guests.

"'Scuse me… I'll be right back.  You're not off the hook."

He moved quickly to the door, glanced through the peephole, then called to Daniel as he reached for the knob.

Daniel handed Jason his guitar and hurried to join the colonel at the door.  Soft murmurs and greetings wafted through the increasing noise of the room. 

Sam patted Janet and Cassie on their respective thighs and hauled herself out of her nest.  She reached the door just as Daniel crouched down to exchange a few signed words with the young girl who stood on the porch, tucked tightly into the side of a tall, elegantly dressed woman.

Jack ushered the new arrivals into the warmth of the house, gently stroking the child's head. 

"Hey, Sam.  This is Daniel's cousin, Cynthia.  We met in Denver when… well, you remember.  And this…" another stroke for the straight brown hair, "… this is Manda."

Sam smiled at the nervous looking woman and offered her hand.  "Hi.  Nice to meet you."

Cynthia returned the smile a bit hesitantly.  "I'm sorry… Daniel said you wouldn't mind if we…"

"Not at all.  Daniel did ask me first, and I'm delighted to meet some of his family.  We're happy to have you here. The more of us there are, the less likely it is anyone will notice when I make a fool of myself."  Sam winked at the other woman, happy to see her relax a bit.

Daniel stood, Manda in one arm.  "Sam…"

The child solemnly offered her hand.  Sam grasped it, and smiled into the serious face.  "Hi, Manda"

She was rewarded with a shy smile and the wriggle of expressive little fingers.

Daniel tilted his head and smiled at Sam.  "That was ‘Hi, Sam.'"

Sam exchanged a happy grin with the child, then stood back and gestured toward the crowded living room.  "C'mon and join the party."

The colonel rubbed his hands gleefully.  "Right!  Hey folks!"  The racket stilled.  "This is Cyn, Daniel's long lost cousin."  More hoots and laughter.  "And this is Manda.  Let's find the lady some place to sit, why don't we?"

Sergeant Streager jumped up from the armchair he'd been sitting in.  "Here, ma'am.  Nice and warm."

Cyn smiled hesitantly, and moved slowly into the room.  She nodded her gratitude to the big Marine, and sat, pulling Manda into the chair beside her.  He smiled back, then settled himself on the little stool that had been Airman Tailor's refuge.

The colonel returned to his bully pulpit position, still rubbing his hands together with eager smugness as Daniel slipped quietly back onto his tall stool, again sheltered by the standing bodies of his friends.

"All right, back to business.  This party… "  he waved his hand at the motley collection of instruments cradled by or sitting next to their owners, "… came about because of a discovery I made last Christmas.  And you're all about to make the same discovery."  The grin splitting his face was triumphant and excited.  "First, for those who haven't met them yet… I'd like to introduce Daniel's friends from his college days.  This is Jason Enright."  Jason grinned at Sam, then bowed.  "And this is Ian Conrad.  Watch out for him, ladies.  He's a very wicked young man."  Ian twirled an imaginary moustache, then flourished as he also bowed.  "And the lovely lady currently enchanting our friend Teal'c is Jason's mother, Beth.  The three of them took very good care of our Doctor Jackson before he was a doctor."

Daniel's cheeks pinked slightly as he looked up at Ian and Jason.  Jason nudged him with his hip.

"Bloody hell, Jack.  This your part of the entertainment?"

Jack shot Ian a stern look as the room resounded with laughter.  "Watch it, limey.  I know where you're keeping that fiddle tonight."

Ian shrank back in mock terror, raising a placating hand.  Jack nodded smugly, and turned back to his captive audience.  The second his back was turned the lifted hand morphed into a wagging, chattering ‘mouth.'  As the room exploded in laughter, O'Neill spun around to glare at the Englishman, who just grinned, hand continuing to natter on.

"All right, smart ass.  How about you just… play?"  He took a moment to grip Daniel's shoulder and smile into his face, then headed for the chair he'd staked out beside the couch, face suffused with anticipation and not a little pride.

"Right!"  Ian turned back to Daniel and Jason and lifted the fiddle to his chin.  "Let's get those butts out of those seats, shall we?"

The three men remained motionless for a long moment, then Daniel's fingers plucked a driving rhythm out of his guitar, Jason joined in with a deeper supporting line, Ian's bow flashed and began to dance over the strings.

Sam's mouth gaped open in astonishment.  She heard Janet's harshly indrawn gasp beside her.  The doctor was hearing Daniel for the first time.  Sam had heard him play, but…

Nothing could have been more unlike the sweet, gentle music she'd previously heard Daniel coax from his guitar.  This was… rousing.  Exhilarating, invigorating, intoxicating.  Her feet twitched eagerly, moved by an irresistible urge to drag her up and dance along with the three joyously intertwined instruments.

As they played, the two standing men moved gradually away from their companion, opening up their private little circle to draw the rest of the room into their ecstasy.  And that's what it was, no possibility of mistake.  All three of their faces were brilliant with joy.  Daniel's eyes were closed, his expression glowing with happiness. 

She understood Ian's instructions about Daniel now.  Get him playing, and he wouldn't care about the crowd, the listening ears.  Just the music.

Oh my God.  The music.  Sam drew her feet up onto the couch, tucking her knees under her chin, arms wrapped tightly around them to keep their rebellion under control, and gave herself to the amazing swell of the music.

<<<<<>>>>>

Jack felt his gut tighten with the same astounded happiness he remembered from that first magical evening in Jason's beach house.  He recognized this number as the first one the three young men had played back in December.  He also realized that, wonderful as that performance had been, this was better.  It didn't seem possible, but Daniel was better. 

Of course he was better.  Back then, he hadn't touched a guitar in five years.  Now, Jack could personally attest to the fact that those talented fingers were spending quite a bit of time each day caressing something other than Jack O'Neill, though Jack himself wasn't suffering.  And Daniel's little family of guitars had grown from the original two to five… three shiny new hard-shell cases sitting beside Jack's battered old friend, the high-tech case that housed the Katsuo, and the shabby old soft-shell that held Melburn Jackson's old Martin.  There was also a case that looked suspiciously like a violin case, just recently added to the row.

Though he never would have suspected it, he could recognize in retrospect that Daniel had been out of practice.  There was an additional crispness and clarity to his play now.  And he'd been messing around with some pretty adventurous stuff as well.  Jack figured Ian was in for a surprise or two before the party was over.

And of course, Jack's own carefully planned surprise was a resounding success.  He glanced around at the astonished faces in the room.  The various SGC members were all frozen in some expression of wonderment.  Even the phlegmatic Siler was gaping at the young man he'd worked beside for five years. 

Carter was rolled up into a little ball, rocking backward and forward, a silly, delighted grin on her face.  Janet was bouncing slightly, face glowing with wonder.  The general's pale blue eyes were totally round, matching the shape of his mouth.

And Cassie… Well, Cassie was staring at Daniel as if she'd witnessed him sprout wings and take flight. 

Jack mentally rubbed his hands together in glee.  Gotcha!

A final flying coda, and the wonderful sounds faded.  For a few seconds, the room was frozen in silence.  Then an eruption of whistling, stomping and clapping barraged the three men. 

Ian grinned and bowed, gesturing toward the other two men.  Jason mirrored the bow, and Daniel ducked his head, a sweet smile curving his lips. 

As the noise abated, the Englishman tucked his fiddle back under his chin and gave them a lead into another number.  The two guitars picked up the tune, and they were off again.  As the lively sounds swept over him, Jack became conscious of the murmur of Beth's fond voice.  She was leaning over toward Teal'c, apparently regaling him with tales of his team-mate's youth.

"'Ere, Mum!"  Ian's voice floated over the gymnastics of his fiddle.  "Stop yer natterin' and make yourself useful!"

Beth wriggled happily.  "I get to play!"

She lifted her little drum in her left hand, grasping a polished wooden stick with rounded, club-like ends in the other, then stood and moved into the space created by the three musicians.  Wielding her beater gently, she added a subtle, complex percussion to the ensemble.  Ian grinned and nodded, sweeping them into yet another variation of the tune.

They wound up the piece to more rousing shouts and applause.  Ian wrapped an arm around Beth, dropping a kiss on top of her head. 

"Lovely, MaBeth.  No more mutterin' in the background, now."

She grinned fondly up at him.  "You know I can still put you over my knee, don't you?"

He shouted with laughter and hugged her close.  "Any time you want, Mum.  Any time you want."

She shook herself as he released her, then slid back into her seat beside Teal'c.  "I think it's time for something silly, don't you?  Get it out of the way early?"

Jack quirked an eyebrow at the quartet.  "Something silly?"

Beth smiled fondly at him.  "Oh, yes.  A tradition."

Ian and Jason were nudging Daniel playfully.  "Gotta keep Daniel from getting too serious."

Daniel met Jason's eyes.  "Serious is good."

Jason pulled his mouth down in a disapproving frown.  "Not all the time, MummyBrain.  Time for something silly."

The room erupted again at the silly name.  Daniel ducked his head, then lifted his eyes to meet Ian's gaze.  Jack almost laughed out loud at the expression in those way-too-innocent blue orbs.  He realized Daniel had been waiting for this.

"Okay.  Something silly."  He ran the fingers of his left hand along the polished wood of his guitar's neck, apparently considering, then settled himself and played a light, skipping intro that reminded Jack somehow of Turkey in the Straw.  The other two men laughed and picked up the joyful little tune.

They tossed the light-hearted melody around among them, playing variations, modulating into different keys, teasing each other and the melody.  They slid into a minor key for another variation, and Jack realized that Daniel's approach had undergone a significant alteration.  Abruptly, the delicate little shadowings of the melody, the counterpoint and harmonic lines had given way to an impressive block chordal pattern.  His left hand leapt up and down the neck of the guitar, amazingly springing from bar chord to bar chord, finding each new location with absolute security.

Jason's shout of laughter and Ian's exclamation of, "Bloody hell, Daniel!" assured him that he wasn't the only one impressed.

"I do believe the gauntlet has been flung!" Jason laughed over the continuing music. 

Daniel's lips were curved in a taunting little smile, though his attention was glued to the neck of the guitar—a sure sign he was stretching his limits, as he generally played virtually without ever looking at his hands.

Jack cocked an eyebrow at Beth, who was rocking and clapping with delight.  "It's their game, Jack.  Their game."

Still puzzled, he shrugged, sat back in his chair, and went along for the ride.

Ian was still fiddling away, moving the music into what was obviously a transitional passage… a bridge to more mischief.

Lips twitching with humor, he pivoted as he played, eyes sweeping over the delighted guests until they fixed on the awe-struck face of Airman Joan Tailor.  "Yes!  ‘Ere, love.  Grab your fiddle."

The color drained out of her face, and she shook her head vigorously.

"C'mon, lass.  Listen to him…"  Daniel's fingers flew over the frets.  "'E's taunting me!  Help me out, here.  We've gotta gang up on him; come play that tune we were messing with earlier."

Eyes wide with horror, she yielded to the urging of the people around her and stood, moving slowly into the space Ian made for her.  He winked at her, smile bright and kind.

"C'mon, you'll be great.  Ready, now?"

Gulping, she lifted the instrument up under her chin and raised her bow in an obviously shaking hand.

"Courage, love."  He dropped his voice to a stage whisper.  "Daniel doesn't know this one.  Play it just like you showed me."

She nodded jerkily, eyes locked on his face.

"All right, ready, then?  Watch-watch.  I'll give you the mark."  Gaze fixed on her, he gave her two small nods, then a third sharp one, and her bow moved strongly over the strings, playing the opening vamp of a new tune.

She was good.  She didn't have the brilliance or the amazing precocity of Ian's style, but she was obviously well able to hold her own.  Ian let her play for several measures by herself, then joined her in a wonderful duet.

As the fiddles settled into the new number, Daniel's gaze shifted from his own hands to Ian's.  He was now playing straightforward chord patterns and arpeggios, obviously catching the chord changes by watching what Ian was playing.  Jason's deeper guitar covered the same harmonies and rhythm patterns. 

Joan's nerves had obviously settled.  She was now the fourth corner in their little musical square, and was having a wonderful time.  As the repetitions of the sections of the tune rolled past her, she began to attempt some of the more complex runs and trills that Ian was playing, with his enthusiastic encouragement. 

Daniel's face had settled into that disconcerting concentration-born fugue state that signified his formidable brain was fully engaged and focused on a single task.  His gaze never left Ian's hands.  Gradually, his playing shifted from the supportive rhythm and chording to snippets of harmonic line and descant.  Then, abruptly, his mouth relaxed into a smile and his eyes closed.

"He's got it!"  Beth's trill of triumphant laughter joined the joyous music.  "Too bad, Ian!"

And he did have it.  Daniel's fingers were now flicking over the strings, playing a third part with the two fiddles, sometimes playing melody, sometimes harmony.  The duet had become a trio.

Ian was laughing.  He pivoted around, pulling his eyes away from Joan long enough to scowl playfully at Daniel.

"Dammit, Daniel… you're a monster!  All right, time to put this to bed.  You with me, Joan?"

She nodded, cheek still tucked tightly against the fiddle, bow still dancing over the strings. 

"Okay, here's our coda.  Watch-watch, love.  Here's something to take home."

He bowed a flourish, then, obviously heading toward the finish, leaned close so she could watch his hands as he played a little descending passage—a fluttery little curtsey.  Rather than stroking the bow, he lifted it and rapidly plucked the strings with his left hand, high up the neck of the fiddle, creating a crisp, dry chuff with each tone.

Joan shrieked softly in delight.  He grinned and said, "Watch-watch!" as he repeated the little sequence.  Then turning to Daniel and Jason, he called, "Once more!"

They played through the coda again, and as his little virtuoso sequence approached, he turned back to Joan. 

"Your turn!"

And she did it, a bit clumsily, missing a few notes, but recognizably the same trick.

"Yes!  And once more…"

The final time was much better.  She laughed with joy, then followed him as he carried them all through the final cadence.

As the ring of the music faded, Joan bent over, hugging her fiddle to her chest and laughing in sheer delight.

"Oh, my God!  That was so wonderful!"

The guests were roaring with approval.  Jason, Daniel and Ian laughed with the young woman, hugging each other and all chattering at once. 

Amid the noise, Jack leaned over to catch Beth's attention. 

"What's this game you were talking about, Beth?"

She laughed and shouted over the racket.  "They've done that almost from the first.  Daniel does something outrageous on the guitar, then Ian tries to stump him."

"Ever do it?"

"Nope.  Daniel always catches up before Ian's finished."

Jack shook his head in wonder.  He remembered Ian talking about how much Daniel had pushed him; he began to see a bit of the reason.  And they thought it was all fun! 

"You want to play another, Joan?" Ian asked.

Her nod was at least as vigorous as her original refusal had been.  They chatted for moment, finding another tune they shared, then they were at it again.  After the first run through the song, Beth joined in with her bodhran, then Teal'c added the rumbling bass of his karushna.  Siler's fingers finally gave in to the urge to play, and his guitar joined Jason's playing the rhythm support.  Streager's mandolin contributed an obbligato over the top.  Ian's grin widened with each additional instrument.

"Yes!" he exclaimed as they finished.  "That was lovely!"

The room buzzed with chatter and good-natured laughter as the impromptu members of the ensemble were prodded and teased about their contributions.

Jack's grin felt like it was about to split his face.  This was terrific… even better than he'd hoped.

<<<<<>>>>> [03]

Cyn's head was spinning.  This was… unbelievable.  She was aware that she'd created a very tall pedestal with the name ‘Daniel' inscribed on its base, but this was beyond anything she'd ever suspected.

For a moment, she tried to imagine her own family engaged in this kind of activity.  God, not in a million years.  She remembered a few excruciating evenings listening to her sister-in-law massacre the first movement of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata on the piano, or enduring her dreadful niece's out-of tune singing as the little monster prepared for yet another pageant. 

This was what music was supposed to be.  Joyous.  Inclusive.  A celebration.

She looked around at all the strange faces.  And for a moment, she was overwhelmed by a sense of dissociation.  She'd severed her ties with the only family she'd ever known, and now here she was--an outsider, intruding into someone else's warmth and happiness. 

She tightened her hold around Manda's body, overcome by a fierce longing.  She wanted this.  Wanted to belong in this group.

Her eyes met Daniel's, and he smiled gently, affectionately.  And she felt that knot of loneliness loosen just a bit.

<<<<<>>>>>

Sam sighed with regret as the three young men made sounds indicating that they were ready for a rest. 

Transferring his bow to his left hand, Ian shook out his right hand.  He bowed in Sam's direction, blowing her a kiss.

"That's enough from us for a while, love.  How about some of these other guys picking up some slack?"

Daniel arched his back, then stood up from his stool.  "Oh, yeah.  This is a party, not a concert."  Nodding shy acknowledgement of the crowd's appreciation, he moved behind the coffee table to the small space between Cassie's corner of the couch and O'Neill's chair, carefully protecting his guitar as he slid down to sit on the floor.  Sam smiled a secret smile and pretended not to see the fingers that gently stroked his cheek.

"Siler, you've been sitting there hugging that guitar.  I've heard rumors about the blues."  O'Neill nodded encouragingly to the technician.

Siler's mouth stretched in one of his slow, careful smiles.  He returned the colonel's nod, and winked at Sam. Then his hands, nicked and scratched with the unavoidable consequences of his profession, began to caress the strings of his big guitar.  As Ian and Jason sank down to sit on the floor beside Sam's feet, the notes gained volume and confidence, then the melancholy tones of a melody eased through the chords.  Close against her side, Sam felt Janet's body jerk slightly as Siler softly said, "Saint Louis Blues."

Siler played through the verse and chorus twice, fingers sliding and rolling over the strings.  The sound and mood were completely different from the brilliant ring of Daniel's treble instrument, or the mellow solidity of Jason's.  The tune slid and swayed, weeping with melodic angst.  Bodies seated around the room on chairs, steps, pillows and floor rocked, irresistibly moved by the sweet sorrow of the music.  Siler's phlegmatic face softened, his mouth moving, hinting at the words he wouldn't sing.

As he rounded out the repetition of the chorus, Janet patted Sam's thigh, then stood and worked her way over to Siler's chair.  She touched his shoulder, raising an eyebrow in inquiry.  He cocked his head at her, mouthing a silent question.  She grinned, and said, "E, please."

Nodding, he completed his chorus, then improvised an impressively adept modulation, settling into a blues riff in the new key.  Janet sat down at his feet; as he reached the beginning of the verse, she tossed her head back and began to sing.

"I hate to see that evenin' sun go down…

Hate to see that evenin' sun go down,

Cause my baby, he done left this town.

If I feel tomorrow like I feel today…

Feel tomorrow like I feel today,

I'll pack up my trunk, and make my getaway."

A buzz of appreciation swept through the listeners as she eased through the melody.  Her voice was powerful and richly human, perfectly fitted to the lament of the song.  The southern influence in her speech suited the old song, warming and gentling the sometimes bitter mood of the lyrics.

"Got them Saint Louis Blues, just as blue as I can be.

That man got a heart like a rock cast into the sea.

Or else he wouldn't have gone so far from me."

As she repeated the final chorus, other instruments softly joined.  The sweet chime of Daniel's guitar was supported by deeper tones from Jason's and, surprisingly, a scuffed old instrument that had appeared in Colonel O'Neill's hands; a high, shivering descant trembled from Sergeant Streager's mandolin.   Slow, rumbling beats from Teal'c's amazing drum were joined by a lighter, livelier counter-beat from the much smaller drum in Beth's hands.  And finally, the two fiddles picked up the sighing tune, playing melody and intimate harmony.  They finished with a final repeat of the chorus, an impromptu orchestra.

Sam again tucked her feet up and wrapped her arms around her knees, rocking backward and forward in wordless delight.  Next to her on the couch, Cassandra was bouncing joyously, hand beating the rhythm on the padded arm of the sofa.  On the other side, the General was beaming, shaking his head in bemused astonishment. 

Siler's eyes met Sam's, his smile reflecting her face-stretching grin.  As the lament finally sank into silence, he lifted his hand from the strings of his guitar and tossed her a salute. 

"Happy birthday, Major Carter."

"Holy Hannah!"  She was laughing.  "Wow!"

"That's one hell of a set of pipes, Janet!"  Admiration glowed in Jason's face as he shook his head at the diminutive woman.  "Just where are you hiding all that."

She waved airily at him.  "Some day I'll tell you all about my secret past."

Sam leaned forward.  "Secret past?  So, just how did you finance medical school, Janet?"

The doctor laughed and winked.  "I'll never tell.  Let's just say that good ol' song is a good ol' friend of mine."

"As the birthday girl, I'm making an official request for an encore.  Please sing another one, Janet."

Janet tilted her head, then stretched up to whisper in Siler's ear.  An unaccustomed expression of surprise flashed across his face, then he grinned at her and nodded.

Janet stood and dusted off her long skirt.  "Remember, you asked for this."  She grinned at Sam, then nodded to Siler.

He played a brief, twangy little introduction.  As the notes sounded, Janet's compact body somehow assumed a vaguely enticing, come-hither attitude.  Her mouth curved into lush invitation, eyes half-lidded and promising. 

"I wanna be a cowboy's sweetheart,

I wanna learn to rope and ride.

I wanna ride o'er the plains and the desert,

Out west of The Great Divide… "

The room erupted with delight as she yodeled the chorus.  And again when Siler joined her in the final chorus, the two of them yodeling in deliciously teasing harmony.

"I want to pillow my head near the sleeping herd

While the moon shines down from above.

I want to strum my guitar, yodel-lay-ee-oo

Oh, that's the life I love!"

"Yes, yes, yes!"  Sam was shouting with delight as the song finished.  "Oh, Janet.  Talk about lights under bushels!"

The doctor accepted the accolades from Sam and the others in the room with practiced composure.  She patted Siler's shoulder, then leaned over to kiss his cheek.  Amid the laughter at his blush, she made her way back over to the couch.

Sam noted Daniel's eyes fixed on Janet, delight and speculation in his expression.

"Daniel?"

"Hmm?

She prodded him with her foot, making him start and twist around to look at her.

"Just what are you thinking about so energetically."

He smiled a bit vaguely, and looked up into Janet's face as she stepped over him. 

"Yodeling…"

Ian and Jason jerked upright.

"The hell you will…!"

"Not a chance, mate!"

Sam laughed at their simultaneous exclamations.  "What?"

"Last time he got like this the subject was, God help us, bagpipes.  He talked about the bloody things for two months before we finally diverted him.  And I wouldn't be surprised to this day to find a practice chanter hidden in the back of his underwear drawer.  The man defines stubborn…"  Ian handed his fiddle to Jason, hauled himself to his knees and folded his hands in Janet's lap, the expression of a supplicant on his face.  "Please, lovely Janet.  Please don't agree to teach him."

She laughed and patted his copper curls.  "For you, lovely man, anything."

Daniel wrinkled his nose at their antics.  "You really think I can't teach myself?"

Ian and Jason exchanged a look, then turned in concert to fix gimlet stares on O'Neill's face. 

Jason cleared his throat with intent.  "You just might want to take note, Jack…"

Keeping his gaze locked on the colonel's, Ian leaned back against the cushion of the couch, stretching his feet out in front of him.  "…Just keep in mind who gets to listen while he… practices."

Jack arched one brow, and fixed Daniel with a stern glare.  "Ah… no yodeling, Daniel.  And while we're on the subject, no bagpipes.  You can consider that to be an order."

Daniel cocked a speculative eye up at the other man.  "Can't do that, Jack.  I'm a…"

"Yeah, yeah, we all know.  You're a civilian.  But trust me, I'll find a thousand ways to make your life miserable if you don't follow this order.  Two yodelers on the base is at least one too many.  And next time I visit your place, I'm searching that underwear drawer."

Daniel was laughing.  "We'll see who makes whom miserable, oh Colonel.  We'll see."

"Thank God I'm going back to England next week!"

The room rang with laughter as Ian flopped his head back in Janet's lap, arm draped tragically over his eyes.

As Janet wriggled comfortably back into her space beside Sam, she nodded at O'Neill and the scuffed veteran instrument in his lap.  "And where did that little toy come from, Colonel?"

He looked vaguely uncomfortable.  "Oh, I kinda found it in the back of a closet."

"Ja-ack!"  Daniel's voice was gently scolding. 

"Well, I did.  So what if I sorta take it out and mess with it once in a while."

Daniel, wedged between Ian and the corner of the colonel's chair, smiled up at him.  "Play, Jack," he said softly.

O'Neill's grinning mouth twisted.  "I don't know, Danny.  No living person other than you has heard me play this thing since I was about sixteen."

"No escape, Jack."  Daniel gently slapped O'Neill's calf.  "You made the rules for this party.  You play.  And you sing, too."

"Oh, damn.  I really don't think these poor folks are ready for that, Daniel."

"Play.  And sing.  Or maybe I'll start those new lessons right now…"

Sam swallowed her chuckle.  No doubt who was going to win this contest.  She didn't think the colonel had any doubts, either.  The phrase, "around his little finger," sprang to mind.  O'Neill was sunk. 

He was still resisting, shaking his head, face losing color by the second.  A tiny bit of the laughter escaped.  Colonel O'Neill was bashful.  She'd never have believed it.  But he wasn't going to be given a choice. 

"Play, Jack."  The soft voice was implacable.  With a resigned sigh, the colonel settled the old guitar and began to putter with the tuning pegs, adjusting already perfectly tuned strings, frittering, delaying.

"Jack…"

O'Neill drew a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment, then blew the breath out forcefully and began to play.  A murmur of surprised pleasure rumbled through the room. 

Ragtime! 

He played through a medley of several familiar old tunes, wonderfully new as they were wrapped up in the irresistible rhythms of ragtime.  The colonel's style was laid back and comfortable, but his fingers slid through the twists and turns of the complicated, syncopated musical style with apparent ease—bass, melody and counter-melody playing with each other, bouncing gently off one another in a courteous aural dance. 

He finished the medley to delighted applause, directing a smirking grin at Sam, who was shaking her head in bemused astonishment.

"Jack…"  Daniel was prodding O'Neill's knee, mouth drown down in a playful frown.  "Sing, Jack.  No escape."

The colonel rolled his eyes, then started in on a lively vamp sequence. 

Daniel grinned.  "Yes!  Mandolin song!"

Jack's playful scowl softened to an indulgent grin.  Then he shook his head, took another deep breath, and sang.

"Biddly-um-bum-bum, biddly-um-bum…

Here comes the man with the mandolin.

Biddly-um-bum-bum, biddly-um-bum…

He'll fill you up like your ship's come in…"

Sam felt a bubble of laughter at the incongruity of the silly lyric bubbling out of her commanding officer's mouth.  His voice was a bit rough and definitely untrained, kind of deep and scratchy.  And absolutely suited to the style he chose. 

"All the kids foller, and they holler

Up to the window above,

‘Mamma, drop a nickel, and the man'll pick

A little… tune we love…'"

A few exclamations of pleasure punctuated the music as Streager and his mandolin joined O'Neill, creating a perfect descant over the deep tones of the guitar and the rolling comfort of Jack's baritone voice.

"Raggedy old minstrel, playin' a sweet tune,

Comes around every afternoon.

Lovable old fellow, wearin' a big grin…

Here comes the man with the Mandolin!"

A final little duel between the guitar and the mandolin, and they were finished.  O'Neill laughed, reaching out to shake Streager's hand.  The big sergeant was beaming with pleasure, exchanging words of appreciation with Jack and flushing a bit when he received them in return.

General Hammond's head was wagging back and forth.  "Colonel O'Neill, I find myself without adequate words.  Are you sure you aren't really Jack O'Neill's secret, look-alike second cousin?"

"Ah, that would be a ‘no,' Sir."  The colonel tipped his head, thinking.  "He can't play the guitar."

Shouts of laughter drowned out the rest of his words.  Sam leaned out and looked him up and down.  "You mean there's another one?"

He smirked and winked, then set the old guitar back into the stand sitting beside his chair.  "Just when you think you're safe—there he'll be.  And he can make a bomb out of toothpicks and eyedrops.  So watch your six, Major."

<<<<<>>>>> [04]

The music had stopped for the moment, the various musicians flowing as one toward the food-laden counter and the refrigerator.

Cyn glanced up at a tap on her shoulder.  Daniel's friend Sam was smiling down at her. 

"Hey, you two interested in getting something to eat?  The colonel has a great deck; and the sun is shining."

Cyn hesitated for a moment, then took the plunge.  She smiled back, signed her intent to Manda, and stood.  Moments later, the three of them had been joined by the small doctor with the wonderful voice, and by a pretty teenager.  They settled happily at a wooden table, hair ruffled by the breeze, eyes squinting in the bright sunlight.

"Cyn, this is Janet Fraiser, and her daughter Cassandra.  Janet, Cassie, this is Cyn, and this…" she paused to stroke Manda's head and meet the child's eyes, "… is Manda, Cyn's daughter.  Cyn is Daniel's cousin."

Smiling, Cyn shook hands with Janet, then dutifully with Cassandra, who was obviously feeling the dignity of her advancing years.  "Nice to meet you."

Cassie looked at the stranger, speculation bright in her eyes.  "I didn't know Daniel had any cousins."

Cyn felt her cheeks redden under her makeup.  "I didn't know I had a Daniel for a cousin, either.  We just met a few months ago."

Cassie's face fell.  "Oh.   That means you don't know any secret stories about his childhood, right?"

Sam laughed at the disappointment in the youngster's face.  "Now, why would you want to know stuff like that?"

"Blackmail material!"

Cyn started.  "Blackmail?"

Sam shook her head, still laughing.  "Don't worry, Cyn.  Not the serious kind."  She slipped one arm around Cassie's shoulders and stretched the other hand out to gently touch the cheek of the solemn ten-year-old still clinging to Cyn's side.  "Hey, Manda.  This is Cassie."

Cassie smiled down at the child with all the superiority of her fifteen years, and held out her hand.  Manda looked hesitantly up at her mother, who signed and spoke, "Daniel's friend Cassie."

Cass glanced at Sam in surprise, then turned back to the smaller girl.  "Hi, Manda."  She spoke with exaggerated slowness.

"Just speak normally, Cassie."  Cyn touched the teenager lightly on the shoulder.  "She's fairly good at reading lips, but if you distort the way you talk, she won't be able to understand."

Cassie looked up into Cyn's face, then reached out and took Manda's hand.  "Hello, Manda."  This time she spoke carefully, but naturally.

Manda smiled shyly and slowly shaped a short string of signs.

"That was ‘Hello, nice to meet you,'" Cyn translated.

Cassie's smile broadened to a grin.  "That's so cool!  Can I learn to do that?"

Manda nodded eagerly, then tugged on Cyn's sleeve and signed rapidly.

Cyn laughed.  "If you want, you've got a teacher, Cass."

"Cool!"

Cyn ruffled Manda's hair, then took a sip of her water.  "So, Sam and Janet, you… both of you… you work with Daniel?"

Janet grinned.  "Oh, yes, I think you could say that.  Though the less I have to work with him the better."

Surprised, Cyn raised her eyebrows.

Laughing, Sam stuffed a chip into her mouth.  "She's a doctor, Cyn.  She sees us most when we get sick or do something stupid."

Cyn stared at the blond woman for a moment.  "You… Do you get hurt very much?"

"Too much!"  Cassie's mouth pursed in a disapproving scowl.

Janet stroked her daughter's head apologetically.  "They do spend rather more time in my infirmary than I'd wish."

"Just what is it that you do?" Cyn asked, confused.  "I mean—what kind of trouble can you get into here in Colorado Springs, of all places?"

Sam's lips twitched into a secret little smirk, her gaze sliding away to watch a pair of birds quarreling in one of the trees.  "Oh, you'd be surprised."

Cyn opened her mouth to probe further, but was stopped by Sam's silencing finger.  "What we do is classified, Cyn.  Much as we all want to get to know you, we can't discuss it with you.  Sorry."

Disappointed, Cyn nodded, then applied herself to her sandwich, whose contents were showing signs of attempting escape.

"On the other hand…"  Sam's eyes glinted with laughter.  "There's you.  About whom most of us are embarrassingly curious."

Cyn felt her cheeks warm again.  "Um… what did you want to know?"

Janet smiled sweetly, "Oh, all the good gossipy stuff.  Starting with why it is that none of us knew any of your family existed.  We all thought Daniel's only relative was his… rather eccentric maternal grandfather."

"Hasn't Daniel told you?"  Cyn was concentrating hard on keeping that sandwich under control, which conveniently kept her eyes away from their intent faces.

"Not much," Sam laughed.  "Daniel has this strange delusion that nobody really cares about his personal life."

Cassie giggled through her straw, incidentally bubbling her soda.  "Yeah, like anyone would believe that."

Sam elbowed the teenager.  "Daniel does."

"I… well, Daniel and I have the same grandfather.  Daniel's father was my father's younger brother."

"But Daniel's father changed his name, right?" Sam asked.

Cyn nodded.  She glanced back and forth between the two women, teeth clamping down on her lower lip.  For some reason that made them both grin.

She took a deep breath.  These women were Daniel's friends.  He loved them.  And he wouldn't if they weren't kind, trustworthy people.

"Our grandfather… well, he's awful.  My whole family is pretty awful."  She smiled at their rapt faces.  "Daniel's father was the only one of Grandfather's children who had enough backbone to just leave.  Talk about putting the old monster's nose out of joint!  He wasn't even mentioned in the family when I was growing up."

"You mean he left… on purpose?"  Cassandra abruptly broke off the exploratory finger-wiggling she'd been exchanging with Manda.

Janet slipped her arm around her daughter's waist.  "Honey, some families aren't very happy; you know that."

"But he just left his parents!  How could he…"  The youngster was obviously upset. 

Tugging her daughter closer, Janet kissed her cheek.  "Some people just aren't very good parents, honey.  And sometimes the best thing for a child to do is… leave."

Cyn nodded.  "It was certainly the best thing for Jenson… um, Melburn Jackson to do.  He had a real life, unlike my father and uncle.  I wish I'd known him."

"So… what happened?  You know—when Daniel visited." 

How to describe that outrageous evening?  Suddenly, Cyn felt a bubble of laughter forcing its way up her throat.  "Oh, God.  What a show!  Grandfather never knew what hit him.  He was all set to flaunt Daniel in front of all of us.  Show us what worthless worms we all were.  Daniel just soaked us up, watched and listened as the old goat blustered and strutted.  Then he threw the whole thing into Grandfather's face, and walked out.  It was… it was like a stiff wind from the Arctic.  Clean, cold and inexorable."

"Yes!  I knew it!"  Sam was laughing with her.  "Trust Daniel.  Everyone thinks he's such a sweet, quiet little thing.  But push him the wrong way, and look out, Saint George!"

"Well, he certainly won that encounter."  Cyn ran her finger around the rim of her glass, smiling at the memories.  "And he tipped my life completely on end."

She looked down at her daughter, smiling into the dark, serious eyes.  "You know, you grow up in the envelope your family creates for you…" She pulled the child onto her lap, hugging tightly.  "I never even thought much about my father, or my grandfather, and the ways they did things.  Until I married.  Until Manda." 

Manda signed a question, and Cyn smiled down at her.  She freed a hand to convey reassurance, then again wrapped it around the small, precious body. 

"My husband is my grandfather's accountant.  Let's just say that… discovering what kind of businessman Edward Tyrell is was a bit of a shock.  Then… well, as he puts it, his ‘standards are high'—though I've got another word for it—and when Manda…" She paused and drew a deep breath.  This hurt never faded.  "Manda was the first great-grandchild.  She was born hearing impaired, and that didn't fit very well into his notion of what his family members should be like."

Janet exclaimed softly, wrapping her arm around her own daughter. 

Cyn smiled tightly.  "Yes.  I see you understand.  But… well, as I said, your universe is defined by your upbringing, and even though I was getting pretty unhappy, I never seriously thought I could just leave.  Until Daniel."  She kissed the top of Manda's head.  "He figured things out the second he walked into the room.  He… he talked to Manda.  Just ignored the old monster, crouched down and talked to her.  Do you know, in the ten years of her life, not a single one of her relatives has ever attempted to learn how to sign?  I'd love Daniel for the rest of my life, just for that act of compassion.

"I left the next morning.  Haven't been back.  My husband is still with the company."  She dropped her gaze to the remnants of her ambitious sandwich.  "I… I filed Wednesday."

"Ouch!"  Janet winced in sympathy.  "Now that's an experience I can identify with."

Cyn shook her head sadly.  "I love Ron… really.  But he just won't… I refuse to go back and put myself under the thumb of that old tyrant again.  If it's a choice between giving up my marriage and taking Manda back into that world, I'll make myself happy without him."

After a long moment of silence, she finally lifted her eyes, meeting the pained, sympathetic gazes of the other women.  "Ah… is this some sort of secret Air Force interrogation technique?"  She laughed self-consciously.  "I can't believe I just unloaded all of that on you!"

Sam smiled and reached across to squeeze her wrist.  "You're Daniel's family.  That makes you ours, too.  Welcome to our rather crazy ‘household.'"

"Right!"  Janet gave Cassie one final squeeze, then made cleaning-up motions.  "So let's get ourselves back in there before the General gives away our seats.  I hear guitars!"

Laughing, linking arms, the three women shepherded their two youngsters back into the house.

<<<<<>>>>>

Jack split a bag of chips between two depleted bowls, handing the refreshed snacks to Cassie and her new assistant, Manda, to be plopped into the midst of the floor-sitting guests.  They barely glanced up from their impromptu jam session.  Jason, Siler and Streager were anchoring the play-around, encouraging others to sing and play along with them as they skipped from tune to tune.  Fiddling festivities trickled in from the yard, where an impromptu clinic for two had Ian and Joan happily occupied.  Carter had pulled Cyn out onto the deck to help supervise the lessons.  Their laughter and suggestions punctuated the lively strains of the two instruments.

O'Neill shook his head, grinning in amazement.  Then he glanced over his shoulder as he felt the warmth of a body's presence close by his side.  Daniel, hands full of packages of pre-cut cheese and sandwich meats.

"They're having a great time," he chuckled in Jack's ear.  "Lots of surprises today."

Jack smirked into happy blue eyes.  "Only one better party I know of…"

"Jack, behave."  Daniel's smile turned mischievous.  He dropped his voice to a private level.  "You'll last a few more hours."

"I don't know, Danny," Jack mourned, shaking his head.  "You and that guitar… well, you know what that does to me."

"Try one of the ice bags.  It should take the edge off.  In the meantime, get those loaves of bread out so people can eat something other than junk for a while."

Jack sputtered in outraged laughter.  "Ice bag!  You little shit."  He grabbed loaves of three different breads, attacking the twist-ties securing their closure.  "You know I'll make you pay for that.  They won't stay forever."

Daniel's head ducked as he arranged the sandwich fillings on a platter.  "I'm counting on it, Colonel," he whispered, eyes studiously avoiding Jack's.

"Oh, yeah.  Go play that thing some more…"

Daniel treated him to one more loving grin, washed his hands, and obeyed.

Fingers busy with bread slices, eyes focused on a perfect rear end, Jack watched him cross the room to fetch his guitar.  Oh, yeah.

His task completed, he drifted back to his armchair, leaning back lazily and enjoying the chaotic musical festivities of the group on the floor, now augmented with his own guitarist.  Jason and Janet had been quick to scoot apart and make a space for Daniel, and he'd joined in the improvisational fun without hesitation.

"Hey, Uncle Jack."  Cassie leaned over the back of his chair, wrapping her arms around his neck.  "Got room?"

"For you, always.  C'mere…"  He pulled her around the chair and onto his lap, then lifted her small companion up to join them.  Manda gazed at him with her big, bright eyes, then smiled and patted his cheek.  Laughing, he shifted her slightly, tucking her snugly between his hip and the side of the chair.

There was no room on his lap; Cassie had grown so much that she demanded complete lap space.  Fortunately, she'd quickly given up on the tiny little skirt and changed into the jeans her mother had insisted she bring along. 

"You two enjoying yourselves?  Thought you were out helping with Airman Tailor's lesson."

"Oh, yeah!"  Cassie nodded vigorously, long hair swinging.  "But I don't think they needed my help.  Sam seems to be interfering enough.  So Manda and I decided to sneak off and attack the junk food."  She cuddled close.  "Everyone is just great.  My mom… wow.  I never knew she could do that!"

He hugged her.  "Just goes to show.  Us old folks have lots of surprises for you young things."

"You were great.  And Daniel!  He… he's wonderful."

Jack swallowed the laugh that struggled to escape.  Oh boy.  Incipient hero-worship warning.  He looked down as his sleeve was tugged, smiling at the mirrored adoration in Manda's face. 

"Hey, sweetie.  You like your new uncle, I take it?"  He was careful to look directly into her face as he spoke.

She nodded vigorously, and he laughed and snuggled her closer.  "Me, too," he whispered confidentially.

He settled Cassie comfortably against his shoulder, happily accommodating the suddenly bony elbows and knees of a rapidly growing teenaged girl.  He savored the chance to hold her; she wouldn't want this much longer.  Companionably, the three of them turned their attention toward the musicians' party in the middle of the room.

The group on the floor wrapped up their latest play-around with a riotous flourish and joyous whistles and shouts. 

"Any of you guys know ‘Last Winter Was a Hard One'?" Janet asked over the laughter.  "It goes like this…"

She sang a couple of lines, then Jason suddenly nodded.  "Oh, yeah."  His fingers picked up an accompaniment.  "I learned it as "Mrs. MacGuinness's Lament.  Doesn't sound much like a lament."

By the time she got to the chorus, the others were beginning to play along.

"So rise up, Mrs. Riley, don't give away to blues.

You and I will cut a shy new bonnet and new shoes.

Hear the young ones cry, neither sigh nor sob,

And wait ‘til times get better, and MacGuinness gets a job."

The song was oddly light and tripping, considering it was about hard, hard times.  The members of the impromptu ensemble were really getting into it.

"Bad luck to those Italians; I wish they'd stayed at home.

We've plenty of our own kind, to eat up what we own…"

"Daniel, take the break after the chorus!" Jason called over the music. 

Daniel nodded as they swept into the second chorus.  As Janet finished, the bright, lively tones of his guitar emerged from the background to dance over the melody of the verse, tripping lightly around the tune and improvising flirtatious embellishments. 

As he reached the last line, he called, "Sergeant Streager, you get the chorus."

"Got it."  And as Daniel rounded off his rendering of the verse, the mandolin's bright voice floated above the group to ping through the chorus. 

"How do they do that!" Cassie whispered in his ear.  "They don't even know the song!"

He chuckled softly.  "They're just da… darned good."

Janet laughed and clapped, then picked up the final verse as Streager finished the chorus.

"They work upon the railroad, they shovel snow and slush.

But one thing in their favor, those Italians don't get lushed.

They bring their money home at night and drink no dinner wine…

And that's something I would like to say for your old man and mine!"

Oh, rise up Mrs. Riley…"

They wrapped up the energetic little song with a rousing repetition of the chorus, several of the men joining in to sing harmony under Janet's wonderfully flexible voice.  As they played their final cadences, they broke into spontaneous shouts of delighted laughter.

"That was great!  Got any more, Doctor Fraiser?"  Streager's face was glowing.  "Just great."

Siler's voice broke through the noisy chatter.  "Doctor Jackson, that's one hell of a guitar."

Daniel's hand ran gently over the smooth patina of the face of his guitar's body; his face glowed with gentle pride.  "Thanks.  It was made for me, a long time ago."

"It's tuned high, right?"

"Mmm.  A fourth high."  He nodded, then sat for a moment looking at the phlegmatic technician.  "Would you, um, like to try it?"

A frisson of surprise swept through Jack.  Daniel was immensely careful of his beloved instrument.  Jack himself had been invited to play it only twice. 

Cassie leaned forward on his lap, Body tensing.  "I didn't think he'd let anyone else play it."

"Well, he's really protective; it's a precious thing to him, that guitar.  And musicians are pretty careful about stuff like that.  No one would ever ask to play it.  But if he offers…"

"Oh, yeah.  I'd love to."  Siler's rare smile curved his lips as he set his own instrument beside him on the floor.

Daniel handed the Katsuo carefully across the circle of musicians.  "Just… no picks, okay?"

Siler nodded.  "Right.  No picks." 

Sticking his flat-pick between his teeth, he settled the smaller guitar in his arms and stroked a chord.  His brows shot up at the discordant sound.

"Oh, sorry."  Color brightened Daniel's cheeks.  "It's tuned in drop-D."

"Oh.  Hmm."  Siler thought for a moment, then again fretted a chord and stroked the strings, this time producing a much more pleasing sound.  His face lit up.  "Shit.  Uh, ‘scuse me, Doc Fraiser."

She chuckled.  "No need to apologize, Sergeant.  I hear much worse on a virtually hourly basis."

He nodded absently, and continued to play.  "Damn, it just sings against your hands."

The pride in Daniel's smile was obvious.  "Part of that's the high tuning.  Those strings are… taut.  But it's a wonderfully made guitar."

Siler began to invent a tune, fingers flicking against the tight strings, and the other musicians gradually picked up on the sweet little improvisation.  Siler grinned, shaking his head as his meaningless noodling developed into a group performance. 

They played for several minutes, letting Siler experiment with the unfamiliar guitar.  As they began to wind down, Cassie suddenly smacked Jack's cheek with a quick kiss, then left him to drop to the floor and crawl into the circle of musicians.  Taking advantage of Daniel's temporarily empty hands, she slid into his lap, straddling her legs over his and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Hi, Cass."  He gave her a tight hug.  "Having fun."

"Lots."  She leaned back and eyed him speculatively, then pulled one hand from behind his neck to toy with the collar of his shirt.

"Um… Daniel…?"

"Yeees?"  He drew the word out, brows arched in teasing query.

"Daniel, do you suppose… I mean… would you…"  She huffed in frustration, gaze fixed on the top button of his shirt.  "Couldyouteachmetoplay?"

"I beg your pardon?"  His grin was wasted on the top of her head.

She pouted slightly.  "Could. You. Teach Me. To. Play.  The guitar."  She emphasized each word with a poke to that button.

"Oh!"  He feigned surprise.  "Play the guitar, huh?  Well, that's pretty much up to The Boss, here."  He tilted his head toward Janet, seated beside him on the floor. 

She turned her best pleading eyes on her mother.  "Mom?"

Janet looked doubtful.  "You know we're talking a lot of work, here?  And you're not going to be playing like Daniel next week.  Or next year, for that matter."

"Please, Mom?  I really want to learn to play."

Janet leaned back, balancing herself with a hand on the floor.  "What do you say, Daniel?  What's involved?"

He smiled and pulled the youngster close again.  "Basically, a bit of time each week for the two of us, quite a bit of practice time and, of course, a guitar."

"I can't play yours, right?"

"Right, honey.  I'm sorry, but you can't.  Some day maybe, but I have to be really sure you're going to treat it the way I want it to be treated first."

"That's what Jack said." 

Daniel cast a glance in Jack's direction.  Jack, in the process of lifting Manda up onto his lap, met it with a smile and nod.

"How much are we talking for the guitar, Daniel?"  Janet was rubbing Cassie's back, smiling into the begging eyes.

He tilted his head, thinking.  "Well, if she wants to play something like the way I play, we're talking steel strings, and that's a bit more expensive than a classical guitar.  She should start with standard tuning but if she eventually wants to play high-strung, she'll need one that's very well constructed, with a really strong body and neck.  If we get her a half-way decent instrument, we're talking probably four to five hundred dollars.  You can get one for quite a bit less, but if she really takes to it, getting a good instrument now will be better in the end."

"And how much did you pay for those new guitars lined up against the wall over there?" she teased.

He grinned, unrepentant.   "A lot more than four or five hundred dollars."

"That's what I thought."

"But she doesn't need that unless she really gets involved.  One of those is a six-string folk guitar, similar to what she wants to play.  But it's quite a bit bigger than what she'll want, both because she's smaller than I am, and because you really need a smaller guitar if you're going to tune it high; it's less likely to buckle under the strain.  Besides, I got that guitar so I'd have one around with standard tuning.  She could start out playing it, but at least before very long, you're going to have to get her a guitar of her own.  And if you decide to go with this, you'd better let me come along when you go shopping for the guitar.  You don't choose a serious guitar by the way it looks."

"Whew!  More complicated than I figured."  Janet ruffled Cassie's hair, an assault the girl suffered for the sake of the request on the table.  "Did you get all of that?  We're talking quite a bit of money, and Daniel's time as well.  You'll promise me you'll really work at it, right?"

"Promise!  I will!"

"All right.  Since Daniel's willing, we'll give it a try." 

"Yes!"  Cassie bounced, making Daniel wince as she squashed his legs against the floor. 

"I want you to promise that you'll stick with it, practice every day, for a year, before you decide that you're tired of it."

"I will.  I promise!"  Cassie gave Daniel another enthusiastic hug, then leaned across to offer the same to Janet.  "Thank you, thank you!"

She jumped up and skipped out to the deck, heading for Sam's voice and vibrating with the joy of her big news.

Jack shook his head ruefully.  He sincerely hoped Daniel realized what he'd just let himself in for.  Should be a good show.  He wondered if Daniel had ever tried to teach anyone to do what he did on that guitar.

<<<<<>>>>> [05]

"Whoa!"  Sam rocked with the force of the impact of Cassie's body.  "Hey, Cass!"

"Sam!  Daniel's going to teach me to play the guitar!"  The girl was jumping with excitement.

"Oh, boy.  Lucky Daniel.  Maybe I better have a little talk with him before your first lesson."

"Sam!"  Cassie bumped her hip against the older woman's, laughing with her.  "How long do you suppose it's going to be before I can actually play?"

"Honey, I haven't the faintest idea.  Daniel plays a lot, and has since he was a kid.  And he's pretty incredibly talented."

"Yeah."  The teenager deflated slightly.  "I'll probably never be any good."

Sam wrapped her arms around the girl and rocked her back and forth, laughing gently.  "Oh, sweetie.  Who knows?  Maybe you're incredibly talented as well.  And you don't want to play like Daniel.  You want to play like our lovely Cassie."

Cassie pulled free, laughing.  "Oh, there's that frustrated ‘Mom' thing.  Don't worry, Sam.  I don't think I'll be emotionally scarred if I don't become a guitar virtuoso."

Sam tugged on her hair.  "I'm sure you won't." 

The whoosh of the sliding door announced Manda's quiet arrival.  She slipped through the door and up to Cassie's side, tugging on her mother's sleeve.  Having gained the attention she wanted, she signed something to Cyn, face reflecting pleading eagerness.

Cyn's smile faded, and her brow wrinkled in consternation.  For a long moment, she didn't reply.  Then she slid down onto the plank surface of the deck and pulled Manda onto her lap.  Carefully, she signed a reply.  Some of the eagerness drained from Manda's face, and she responded with greater pleading.  Another long pause, then Cyn replied slowly.  Manda's face dropped for a moment, and when she looked up, her expression was again solemn and a bit withdrawn.  She nodded, clearly unhappy, and wriggled off her mother's lap.

Cyn tipped her head back against the rail.  "Damn," she whispered.

"What, Cyn?  What did she want?"

"She's curious about what Daniel's going to be teaching Cassie.  She wants to learn, too."

"To play the guitar?"

"Mmm.  Of course, she doesn't really understand what this is all about, just that Cassie's excited, and Daniel's doing it.  How can I pretend that she can learn to play a musical instrument?"

Some of the excitement faded from Cassie's face.  She stooped down to Manda's height.  "Hey, Manda.  Why don't you show me how to do some of those signs?"

After a moment, Manda nodded, smiling shyly, then looked at her mother for permission.  A sliver of eagerness was beginning to show through the sorrow.

"Great!  Come on… let's go inside."  As she tugged the child toward the glass door, Cassie glanced back over her shoulder at Cyn.  "Okay if I feed her junk food and juice?"

Cyn laughed softly.  "Fine, within reason."

The two women watched the mismatched youngsters skip eagerly back into the house, and shared a bemused smile. 

"I really hope Cassie can get Manda's mind off that guitar.  How much do you suppose they're going to be able to understand each other?"

Sam laughed.  "Well, that might just depend on whether Manda's old enough to have discovered N'Sync yet."

Cyn joined her mirth.  "Oh, then they aren't going to have any problems at all!  Considering she can't hear them, Manda's devotion is surprising, but no less complete."

Sam shook her head, grinning down at the boards of the deck.  "I'm sure I was never like that."

"Oh, Sam.  One way or another, I think we all were."

"Yep."  Sam gestured toward the door.  "Shall we follow them?  I'm getting a bit chilly, and Ian and Joan have already deserted us."

"I noticed that.  I'm not sure they appreciated our… help."

"Ingrates."  Sam winked and pulled the door open.

<<<<<>>>>>

After several riotously musical hours, things seemed to be settling down a bit.  For the moment, the instruments were all silent, the singing voices resting in preparation for later efforts.

Sam found herself happily sandwiched between Ian and Jason, sitting on the floor against the front of the couch and being plied with beer and munchies.  Beth, Cyn and Janet sat chattering behind them, and Daniel was again curled up beyond Ian—conveniently adjacent to the chair occupied by the colonel. 

Sam smiled up at the General as he returned from a trip to the kitchen, happily accepting the bottle of water she'd requested to dilute the beer.  There was a long way to go yet, and she had no intention of missing a minute of it due to a fuzzy head.

As she shifted forward to give the General room to seat himself in his corner of the couch, she became aware that Daniel was no longer paying much attention to the lively laughter and conversation the rest of them were enjoying.  His brows were slightly furrowed, eyes fixed across the room.  She tracked his gaze to Cassie and Manda, nestled together in the big armchair and apparently managing very efficient communication. 

She looked back toward Daniel, whose attention had shifted up toward the colonel.  The furrow was gone, and an imp of mischief was playing around the corners of his mouth.

He reached up and twitched O'Neill's sleeve, then gestured toward the battered guitar leaning against its stand on the other side of the colonel's chair.  Brows arching, the colonel obliged by picking up the instrument and checking the tuning.

As Jack fussed with the strings, Daniel stood and beckoned to Manda, smiling affectionately and shaping something with his hands.  Shyly, she returned the smile, then slid down from Cassie's side and, with considerable doubtful assistance from the bodies sprawled on the floor, made her way across the room.

Daniel routed Streager, who'd been crouching like a troll on the small footstool, then slid the stool into the spot Daniel himself had been occupying, tucked close beside the colonel's chair.

"Manda, honey, you remember Jack?"  His elegant hands shaped symbols as he spoke. 

Manda flicked her gaze away from Daniel and smiled bashfully at the colonel as she yielded to Daniel's attempts to seat her on the stool.  She nodded, small, thin hands deftly flying.  Jack's eyes shot up toward Daniel, who carefully shaped several symbols, pronouncing, "Hi, Manda," as he signed. 

O'Neill grinned, dropped his eyes back to Manda's attentive face, and mimicked the signs.  She laughed in delight.

"So, why's she laughing, Dannyboy?"

The other man grinned, shaking his head.  "Your signs are a bit… unusual."

"You saying I've got an accent?"

"Something like that," Daniel laughed.  Then he crouched down beside the little girl and took one of her hands in his.  Gently, he spread the fingers and placed her palm on the body of Jack's guitar.

"Play a few chords, Jack."

Obligingly, O'Neill strummed the strings, right hand shifting from chord pattern to pattern.

Manda's mouth dropped open in surprise.  She jerked her hand away and turned to Daniel, signing in rapid excitement.

He laughed and waved his hands.  "Slower, sweetheart!  I can't keep up…"

They exchanged a couple more bits of conversation, then he indicated that she should replace her hand on the wooden body of the guitar.  He slid to the floor on Jack's other side, easily within sight of the little girl.

"Jack, play ‘Trombone Charlie,' okay?  Make it nice and rhythmic."  He smiled across at Manda, flicked his fingers in Jack's direction, then signed and spoke, "Trombone Charlie."