They stepped through the gate.

Like Alice emerging into Wonderland, one moment they were in a cold cavern miles beneath the surface, the feel of the Colorado's icy winter having penetrated down even that far, then in the space of a single step, they were through the looking glass and somewhere else.

Daniel sucked in a breath of warm sunny air and felt the gateroom chill immediately begin to melt away. He looked out, blinking against the alien double suns, and smiled at the gentle heat radiating down from the high blue sky. Just like Alice--only with a REALLY good travel agent.

Daniel stepped to the side, making room as Sam and Teal'c came through behind him, both accompanied by a waft of cooler air.

"Oh." Sam sighed.

"Much better." Teal'c nodded in approval.

Daniel pulled in another deep breath. Yes, you could smell it, earth and grass baking under the sun. Not a hint of wet Colorado snow or icy road in sight, only summer as far as the eye could see. Hot and still.

"Some days I just love this job." Jack murmured as he raised his sunglasses against the dazzling afternoon light. Taking point, he made his way down the stone steps.

Sparring an extra glance back at the blue event horizon, Daniel moved to follow him.

Three figures waited patiently beside the DHD. Framed by the green field of wheat grass swaying back and forth under the high golden sun, their faces were impassive, their spears pointed skyward.

Daniel's steps slowed as he reached the bottom, he'd known to expect it, but still it was startling to see up close, SG-7's grainy black and white photos not having done them justice. Like something out of the flat lands of Africa, the Chindee were almost painfully tall, as they stood dressed in leather sarongs and earth-textured cloth. But more striking than the long limbs and willowy forms, or the gentle sepia toned swirls of tattooing that ran around wrists and neck, were their eyes. Black orbs with no whites showing at all. They were wholly dark, like the black of Jack's sunglasses, without a flicker of expression shining through. Impenetrable.

Facing those darkened gazes in real life, now tracking silently their descent, it struck Daniel with the vague feeling that one might not ever quite know what a Chindee was really thinking. An uneasy whisper worked its way past the afternoon sun and up his spine, at the sudden striking familiarity.

Jaffa.

Staring into the Chindee's eyes reminded him of nothing so much as the opaque eyeguard of a Jaffa's helm.

And Daniel had stared into the faces of enough of Apophis' merciless army to know.

As he came down the last step a warm breeze touched his face soothingly, reminding him as did the leather document case in his pack, that these were not Jaffa, and would never welcome any of the goa'uld kind. The Chindee had been more than candid about that, the past hundred years of their culture, their entire social system, was predicated on it.

Teal'c stepped down to Daniel and Jack's left.Then, Sam added her presence beside him.

All four of them waited.

Soundlessly the wind picked up and skudded across the tall grasses, ruffling wheat, hair and edge of clothes. The silence hung in the air.

As one the three Chindee touched their chests at midline and bowed only their heads, dark hooded eyes lowering to the ground.

SG-1 echoed the movement. As one they bowed.

"Respect To Those Not Of The Tribe." Daniel said, watching carefully their reflection in the briefing room's windowpane, eyeing critically the angle and level of uniformity the four of them made.

"That's it. The basic greeting bow."

Daniel straightened and glanced at the list in his hand. "Now, the Chindee have over a hundred and fifteen bows, each carrying a shade of meaning and degree of significance.I've managed to narrow it down to the ten or so most likely ones we'll need in order to simply not offend our hosts."

"The rest of the ones I've chosen are a little more complicated. But I think we're going to need to know at least these."

Daniel indicated that they should all attempt the next set.

Not surprising, Teal'c caught on fairly quickly.The ex-Jaffa's natural stance lending itself well to the defined movements.But Jack and Sam a little...er...less so. Their normally honed reflexes made awkward and stiff by the formal, almost balletic motions.

"No, Sam, more a thirty degree incline rather than a forty-five."

"Make it more curt."

"Okay, now that’s too curt."

"Ja-ack. You’d only use that gesture at a child."

"Yes, I do think...what do you mean that’s what you meant?"

"Would you please pay attention?"

Despite all the groaning and complaining, Daniel noticed with amusement how the others managed to still somehow practice the gestures on various and sundry over the next seventy-two hours. Jack taking particularly fiendish pleasure in their weekly meeting with the brass from the Pentagon giving them the nod of Ultimate Authority to Rank Classless Ones as he entered the briefing room.

Bow to those of respect.

Bow to those below and worthy of condescension.

Bow between equals.

Daniel'd forgotten his watch, dashing back to the locker room he'd stopped surprised as he caught the military man making the last one in front of the mirrors. Brow furrowed. Concentration fierce. Practicing it over and over again.

Now practice made it nearly perfect as Jack lazily stepped forward to stand directly in front of the Cha'dae, gestured, inclined his head, dipped it and re-straightened--Bow Between Equals. Just as smooth as you please. Like he'd been doing it all his life.

The Cha'dae inclined his head in acknowledgment of the honor.

"May I present, One's Right Hand.One's Left Hand." The Cha'dae, an older man with weathered skin and a face framed by brown tattoos gestured conveniently enough at the man and woman to his left and right. "And you?"

"Yes, well, one's team." Jack waved a deceptively laconic hand in the general direction of each of his own teammates. "One's captain. One's archeologist. One's big scary Jaffa." Teal'c raised an eyebrow at this description but inclined his head none the less.

The Cha'dae took them in, his black gaze resting wholly on each of them for a moment. It seemed to Daniel that the elder's eyes missed nothing. He held his breath. Had they gotten it right? Had Jack's hand waving been a shade too casual–-an insult? They'd practiced and practiced that first bow over and over again.

The wind gusted across the grass and was silent again. The air grew heavy.

Finally, the Cha'dae nodded once and inclined his head. "I see each of you," he stated quietly, and it was both literal as well as ritualistic.

"Welcome to our home. Please, come forward." His words acted as a signal for Left Hand gave Right Hand – Malla, Daniel would later find out was her name -- the garlands of flowers he held.

Her spear traded off to Left Hand, Malla paced forward, four strings of flowers swinging incongruously from her wrists. Like a tigress decked with garlands. Perfunctorily she draped a garland around Jack's neck, then kissed each of his cheeks. The gesture surprised Daniel. The Chindee were reported to see any touch to the face or neck as highly personal, intimate even. Areas considered vulnerable to goa'uld snake or goa'uld threat were not for casual contact amongst strangers. Yet ritual obviously demanded equals to be met as actual equals, to be treated as kin.

"Welcome to our home. Welcome to our tribe." Malla said with all the warmth of a check-out teller.Ritual demanded and must be obeyed, even if not actually desired.

The willowy figure moved from Jack to Daniel, her shadow fell across Daniel's face, her height momentarily towering over him. The shortest of the three, her long boned personage was startlingly equal to Teal'c's height. Carefully bland, keeping his palms face down and at his side, Daniel raised his eyes to meet her expression. And yet, Teal'c's looming had never made Daniel feel small. The tightly drawn mouth and stony expression told Daniel immediately she was not pleased to have them there. Not pleased to be sharing such familiarities with strangers of fact if not of ritual. The aquiline face could have been carved from stone. No, not pleased at all.

"Welcome to our home. Welcome to our tribe." Malla perfunctorily bent and placed a garland around Daniel's neck.

A grainy, sort of polleny scent. Strong and sweet smelling. If the color "yellow-white" had a scent, it smelled like this. Strung like popcorn along a length of twine, the star-shaped flower's perfume immediately filled the air and Daniel's nose twitched as he resisted the urge to sneeze.

With marionette precision, Malla kissed first one side of Daniel's face and then the other. Her mouth touched his skin. Dry lips brushing skin. Trapped between their two bodies, the scent of the flowers grew strong. Rising up. Familiar. Not unlike--Daniel closed his eyes for a second as her lips brushed his left cheek—but did not quite place the memory. It felt…like…like…the smear of lipstick on his cheek.

Daniel blinked his eyes open startled. Lipstick?

Unaware, the matron of the tribe stepped back from him, inclined her head, and then regally moved down the line to Sam where she repeated the gesture. Flowers, greeting, and cheek kissing. Then to Teal'c. Frowning Daniel snuck a peek. Nope, no lipstick on her.

And yet...he couldn't help but surreptitiously reach up and brush his fingers across the spot. They came away clean, no red smears.

He frowned. Red?

"Daniel?" Jack hissed.

Hastily Daniel brushed the non-existent smears off on his pants and went back to making the next set of formal gestures.

Taking a deep breath, he centered himself and found his place. The speech with its carefully chosen words fell smoothly from his lips.

Yet, unlike all the other times he'd practiced it, pacing agitatedly back and forth alone in his office, a rhythm without a song, this time he was aware of the others, of the solid presence of Jack at one shoulder, and Sam and Teal'c at the other. He heard himself say the words on not only his own behalf but theirs as well. Continuing through the practiced lines, a small part of Daniel noticed and caught the glance exchanged between Jack and Sam. And was startled by the look of pride reflected there. Pride for him.

Oh.

A warm flush glowed somewhere inside and he stood a little taller, paying extra attention to his enunciation. His body language. The shades of depth and meaning in the positioning of his hands. The Chindee were very specific about what constituted civilized behavior. Especially since those who were not civilized were classified as "it" and "its" did not get treated as equals.

The goa'uld were its.

Daniel stood straighter and spoke clearly the rhythm of the final line.

His team deserved better.

One speech concluded and like a dance, Malla and then Left Hand picked up the proverbial ball with their own response. Answering in an easy cadence, like liquid poetry.

And just and so, the first step towards cementing an alliance three months in the making was begun.

Tonight SG-1 would attend a feast, which would culminate in wrapping up the last of SG-7's hard diplomatic work. Work aimed at allowing the SGC to establish a small but essential beta site encampment near the Chindaen Stargate. And in return for this allowance, the SGC promising to defend the Chindee from any unexpected snakey visitors who should happen to wander by and try to assume command without an invite.

A somewhat significant honor, as Daniel earnestly pointed out several times to Jack, considering they were to sign off as the “official representative of the SGC and by proxy the Earth”. General Hammond deemed too important to risk on an off-world mission like this. Jack's only comment in response had been a rude noise and an observation that Hammond had been too smart to get suckered into another rubber chicken dinner.

Daniel's stomach rumbled, reminding him even rubber chicken would be something to look forward to. Pointedly noting that they hadn't eaten breakfast, or lunch, or even vending machine snack before leaving the base. In fact, each of the team had deliberately arrived hungry, since they'd been warned by SG-7's Lt. Kraemer that the feast was liable to last half the night since food and bonds of friendship were considered integrally tied in the Chindaen culture.

"A three hour, ten course meal is a small supper party to these guys. You know, just a few friends and a light snack." The lieutenant had laughed rubbing his stomach in rueful memory.

"Start practicing at the Home Town Buffet and don't stop," Johnson, SG-7's point man, had advised solemnly.

Formal introductions completed, their team was led along a pathway towards the dense forest bordering the grassy plain. Johnson had said the trees were as big as redwoods, but from where Daniel stood they only looked like bushy topped pencils, the kind with fake fur which school children spin between their hands.

Stepping over long grasses, Daniel walked beside Jack, who he noticed quietly rode his hand on his sidearm, larger weapons having been labeled inappropriate for said present mission. Jack's walk was laid-back, putting forth the idea of one merely being out on a stroll, but his eyes, restlessly watched the scenery, taking nothing for granted. For all the diplomatic trappings, and current P-90-less state, Daniel observed, Jack O'Neill was first and forever foremost a point man.

"So, where we going?" the colonel casually asked E'tan, the governor's Left Hand.

The overly tall warrior glanced down at Jack. "We are going to Makow. Where our contract will be settled."

"Makow, toward the sky.Makai, towards the earth." Daniel quietly reminded Jack. "It's the only two directions the Chindee feel they need."

"My cow and My kite. I know. I know." Jack waved him off.

Daniel made a face and shook his head.

"I saw that," Jack said cheerfully without looking back.

Daniel rolled his eyes. Sam nudged his shoulder and gave him a smile. The colonel was only messing with him. Yeah, he knew. But still, the Chindee were so darn particular about their customs. Offense was easy to give and easier to take. Bows to be exact. Hand gestures well measured. Faces carefully bland. The chest was the central line. Finger talk should be positioned along the central line. Touch the chest to agree. Point not outwards with the fingers. Touch not the face and neck of other than family as this was the vulnerable region. Politeness was an art form here and had layers.

Lots and lots and LOTS of layers, Daniel shook his head and sighed eyes burning from too many sleepless nights studying them all.

"Its" were shells. Honor-less. Parasitic.They certainly didn't get invited to dinner and they definitely did not get asked to sign treaties. Much as they might all joke, the none too distant memory of Apophis and his pyramid ships creeping towards earth still weighed heavy in Daniel's mind. The golden shields had flung back indifferently the strongest missiles earth had to offer. Making it apparent why they needed not only an alpha site but also smaller beta sites. It being not so much a matter of if another attack was coming, but more pointedly, when.

Earth and her people were vulnerable. It was best to make it less so, Hammond had quietly confessed to Daniel one late night over paperwork.

Daniel had personally seen the results of what happened when you didn't.

No one on the base ever mentioned it, but everyone knew.

It was why they were here now.

Fall back positions and beta sites.

Six, Hammond confided, at the very least. And twelve would be better.

This one would be the first, and most important one. The Chindee DHD having symbols on it which appeared nowhere on the Chulak based counterpart, rendering addresses far from any of Apophis' holdings.

Daniel glanced at those ahead of him. Or so they all hoped.

And that's why they need to behave just like regular people. Albeit regular people who had swallowed every last Chindee style anti-goa'uld Emily Post rule. His head ached from just thinking about all them.

Daniel resisted the urge to pull off his glasses and rub at his eyes.

So many rules.

So many gestures with their imagined meanings.

The scent of the flowers around his neck added to the mild pounding in his head. Surreptitiously Daniel palmed an anti-histamine from his front pocket and swallowed it dry before catching up to walk companionably beside Sam into the shadows of the trees.

They continued to follow the path. Soft brush and sapling-like bushes grew sporadically beneath the dense forest canopy. Pine needles scooped and laid by tribal caretakers lay along the flat surface and crunched pleasantly under their feet. Cool and green, the air had a moist sun-dappled quality to it.

Daniel tilted his head back, his hat slipping and catching by its string as he did. Like the Chindee the trees were alarmingly tall.Large trunks towered above them. Daniel squinted peering through his glasses into the high branches. But there was more than their impressive height to command one's interest, there were all the huts in the trees. Bell shaped, like wooden mushrooms, surrounding the massive trunks high above. Walkways and bamboo ladders connected them all. Easily forty, sixty, even eighty feet up, they clung amongst the massive limbs and trunks. It was like something the Anasazi might have built if they’d had a forest rather than rocky cliff sides.

Faint sounds reached his ears. People. Moving about the trees. Carrying water jugs, hanging dyed sheets of colored cloth, snapping them out and pinning them up to dry, hauling long ropes to raise and lower platforms between levels. Some platforms carrying unsupervised baskets or small piles of harvest goods. All safe and secure and far from the ground.

"Amazing," Daniel marveled.

"Indeed." From over his shoulder, Teal'c agreed, attention temporarily swayed from its habitual surveillance of the undergrowth for things less than benign, by two children running from one habitat to the next scurrying across intricately roped bridges, traversing the same length they themselves crossed along the ground. The bridges so sturdy and neatly spaced that the children could follow along in equal time. Giggling, they pointed and whispered, their dark eyes alight with excitement. They waved when they saw Teal'c and Daniel watching them. A woman came hurrying out, grabbing each child by their arms. She sternly whispered to them, her turbaned head bobbing. Solemnly now both boys stood straight and bowed from their lofty vantage point to them. Welcome to Wise Ones Not Of The Tribe From Junior Most Members of the Tribe. Or that's what Daniel thought it meant if he was reading the tucked in postures right. He tilted his head and made the Chindee hand sign of Acknowledged Honor. The children grinned. And Daniel couldn't help but smile back, completely falling out of mode.

"You are of much interest to our little ones." E'tan stood at his shoulder and observed.

"So it would seem."

"They are young and have not often seen strangers."

Daniel tried out one of the more complicated gestures, a funny mix of finger movements with a little tap to the chest as he said, "Then I am pleased to be the one to offer them such an opportunity as to expand their world, for it is difficult to form a prototype of thinking without an example present."

E'tan studied Daniel's earnest expression and exaggeratedly polite gestures for a moment, then inclined his head with something almost bordering on amusement crinkling the tattoo's near his eyes. "Very true indeed."

Daniel blinked, wondering what he done that had been so funny?

But E'tan turned away hiding any expression that might be there and yet still there was something as he said, "Ah. I see Eni Malla is impatient for us to continue. We must endeavor to reduce this state lest her discomfort at cultivating patience escalate into self-injury."

Malla's tight-lipped frown was obviously not one of the more difficult Chindee expressions to read, particularly as it was currently fierce enough to blast through forest walls. She stood at the head of the path with an air of one who suffering through guiding children, not particularly bright children mind you, who had wandered from the route to school forcing her to be potentially late.

If E'tan's expression was hinting at warmth, Malla's was still happily in the deep freeze.

"Eni Malla?" Daniel inclined his head towards the woman inquiringly, who had upon seeing their continued progress turned and marched onward, back ramrod straight. Daniel mentally pulled up the context from SG-7's briefing. "Of family?" he sounded out.

Daniel looked back and forth between Malla and E'tan putting the context together. "You're brother and sister?"

"Yes, it is my joy to say so." Daniel yet again got the sense that E'tan's dry words held a flash of carefully cloaked humor.

E'tan looked down at Daniel curiously, "You are surprised? All our warrior units are so. Is it not en'nessy with your people?" Along with E'tan's words came a complicated hand movement, one Daniel did not know, indicating Jack and the others. "Are these not your en'chala, your family?"

Daniel glanced over at Jack and the others. Was it that E'tan thought Jack was his brother? "No. Our people do not arrange their...um...explorers this way. This is my team. People who…uh...explore together for a…um…common good."

"You are alone?" E'tan looked disturbed by this idea. "No en'chala? None at all? "

"No. I have no family." Daniel thought briefly of Nick, but he had long ago accepted that the old man didn't want him in his life. He said with the careful matter-of-factness of years of long and painful practice. "None at all."

Jack looked sharply over at this.

"Then who guards your honor?"

"I assure you my honor is intact." Daniel paused, seeing E'tan's frown. He continued on cautiously, wary now. "Perhaps we mean different things by en'chala."

"Yes, perhaps we do." E'tan agreed doubtfully.

And an awkward silence fell.

"So." From out of nowhere, Jack broke in. "You're the Cha'dae's 'Left Hand Guy' is that a full time position or do others get to be his hands?"

E'tan answered shortly. "I have served the body for thirteen rotations."

"Impressive. The body must feel very proud."

E'tan gave Jack an inscrutable look, but said nothing more. Any hint of amusement now gone from the hardened warriors face. And Jack's own air of lazy casualness had vanished like so much smoke and mirrors.

Daniel eyes shifted between the two men walking in front of him.

They needed to be careful. He reached back and yanked his boonie back into place. Very, very careful.

They needed this too much.

Malla looked back impatiently, and seeing something in E'tan's expression that Daniel couldn't her seemingly perpetual frown deepened and she called. "Etan?" E'tan shook his head and made a negating hand gesture. But still he left Daniel and Jack's side to join his sister at the front. The path broadening out into a clearing full of other Chindee did not distract Daniel as he watched, the two warriors in the front as their heads dipped briefly together, almost touching, as E'tan murmured something to her, and Malla shot Daniel a frowning look. She shook her head and hissed a comment which might have been "No bene en'chala?" but just as easily could have been, "No bean enchiladas?" E'tan's black gaze glanced back inscrutable. Something inside Daniel stirred uneasily. "Pas'ne 'Team'." E'tan murmured back with a rippling shrug of his broad shoulders.

"The heart of their city," Teal'c observed quietly pulling Daniel's attention away from the alien siblings.

"What?"

Teal'c nodded upward as they entered an open space encircled by what had to be an ancient stand of trees.

Roped and planked staircases wound around and up, up, up into the bowers of the towering branches where multiple levels gathered around each mighty trunk like broad capped mushrooms. Some trees held three and even four different tiers. Some large.Some smaller. All interconnected by balconies and bridges. The entire Chindee village lay above them.

"Towards the sky. Towards the earth." Daniel noted quietly.

"Makes a kind of sense now." Jack muttered, looking up, up and up.

Below the trees, in the clearing a great amphitheater of sorts was formed.Seats and steps carved into the hard packed soil and loamy moss, led down to a central stone. It looked to be a speaker's circle, not unlike those in ancient Greece, where one could address large gatherings or perhaps performances of art or music might be held. Pathways spiraled out from the center of the amphitheater's gathering point creating spokes. Some of the pathways led to large bowled out centers of trunks and upward onto stairways, while others meandered into groves of cultivated trees just glimpsed beyond their larger guardians. Only one path led in the direction SG-1 had walked in from and back toward the Stargate.

There must have been some sort of silent signal, for when they entered the clearing several of the younger clan members ran and pulled long ropes with brass bells. The bells shivered far up into the air, filling the grove with their light ringing sounds. People hurried forward, climbing down from their perches, or dashing in from the grove. They gathered around SG-1. Several stared curiously, some impassively, many critically–eyeing them up and down. Very few spoke, but Daniel caught the finger flashes of private hand speech.

SG-1 stood lined up. Very much under review.

Daniel tried to look calm and sentient and not like an "it". He rounded back his shoulders working to ease the tension which had settled there under all the those dark stares and resisted the urge to tuck his hair back behind his ears wondering if he should have gotten a haircut before coming. It felt like being watched by a crowd of people all wearing sunglasses. Dark. Blinking. Inscrutable.

"I hate this." Jack growled.

The colonel grimly let his gaze wander across the faces of the crowd. "And, I'm starving." Jack added in aside as if that were a bigger insult. Daniel's stomach rumbled achingly in agreement. The flowers around his neck were beginning to become nauseating in their sweetness.

The Chindee were dressed in colorful sari style clothes, mostly in reds, and golds, and browns. Summer harvest colors. Leaves and flowers like those in the lei he was wearing were woven into some of the women's hair. One of the men in the back moved and a blur of blue caught the corner of Daniel's eye. He eyes made to follow the movement amongst the medley of warm tones. But there wasn't anyone there. No blue at all. Yet...he thought he'd seen a woman wearing a blue jacket. Only sober faces looking back from the crowd–silently watching. Waiting. Jaffa eyes. Daniel didn't realize he'd shuffled a step closer to Teal'c, until Jack glanced over. He lifted his chin, giving him a reassuring look.

"Greetings my people. It is with a glad heart that I see you have responded to my call as I bring to you new visitors." The governor paced forward, addressing the gathering, and Daniel schooled his face into polite attentiveness.

"Look everyone at what followed me home THIS time." Jack abruptly sotto voiced, impromptu translating.

Carter snorted but held herself still at attention. Daniel bit his lip and exchanged sideways glances with Teal'c.

"Look upon them now and know them all."

"If you're missing any silverware when all this is done, these are the guys to go after." Jack continued on gleefully murmuring.

"They have come through the great stone ring in the valley, an ancient obelisk which needs be regarded no longer as an outdated relic but rather as a device to travel from afar."

"You know that thing we used to play basketball with, guess what...it ain't for just making hoops anymore." Daniel bit harder on his lip, and Sam's expression was positively frozen in its attempt not to react.

"And as they are strangers their customs are not our own. Therefore, I ask that you respect their alien ways and do not take offense during their visit as they have not had the time to establish themselves and regard our customs as the last men of the Tau'ri did."

"This batch isn't really housebroken or anything so don't expect much."

"In their time here, we hope to establish agreements of trade. For services and goods, much needed by the people."

"We're going to liquor them up and see what we can roll them for."

"Therefore, we now adjourn to the Selectoriam where we will feast and share the cup of alliance making."

"Soup's on!"

***

The meal could have been stolen straight out of Errol Flynn's "Robin Hood" or maybe an elaborate rendition of "Twelfth Night". All they currently lacked was a band of merry men to be...er merry. The feast took place in one of the larger bell shaped rooms high amongst the trees, large rounded windows and doorways open to the air were framed by the view of leaves and flowering vines and night sky. Daniel craned his head, trying to see everything as they took their seats on cushions beside low tables. The Chindee governor held center stage at the head of the table. Malla and E'tan and their entourage of council members along with SG-1 sat along either arm.

Daniel swallowed as a platter of steaming fish, its head still intact and cheerfully winking at him, was presented and placed on their side of the table. He thought about palming a second anti-histamine as the first struggled to fight off the persistent tickle in his nose and the growing ache in his head. What was worse, the more he tried to ignore it, the more his stomach hinted broadly that, yes, it really did feel a little bit off now. A faint edge of panic coursed through him. There were twelve courses coming. The pungency of flowers and waxy candles mixing with the fishy lemony scent reached out to him beckoning - hard. Daniel swallowed. What had happened to hunger?

"Well, isn't that sweet."

His heart lurched, Daniel's eyes flew open at the woman's cold voice whispering harshly into his ear.

But it was only a serving girl reaching to place a clay cup on each of SG-1's empty plates. "It is very sweet."

Suddenly uneasy Daniel glanced around him. Several of the council members seemed to look away from him as he did.

Sam was on his left, her BDU covered knee brushing his under the table. Teal'c a mere cushion beyond. Jack sat on his right, within easy touching distance. Daniel was surrounded by people he trusted. Only his team. No one else.

Sensing something amiss, Teal'c glanced down over Sam's head. An eyebrow rose.

Embarrassed at his own reaction, Daniel shook his head.

Teal'c frowned, apparently seeing something in Daniel's expression. The Jaffa touched Sam's shoulder to get her attention opening his mouth as if to say something, but just then the governor began his opening remarks and Daniel in relief broke eye contact. "Now we shall all join in the partaking of the blood of trees, the very life source which nurtures and cares for our people."

"Blood of trees?" Jack muttered out of the side of his mouth.

"Maple syrup?" Daniel hazarded a guess, lifting the milky white contents with its "S" swirl of amber syrup to peer closer.

"Ah." Jack nodded.

Raising his drink the governor inclined his head, indicating the others should do the same and the buzz of voices fell. Bringing it to his mouth, the Cha'dae took a healthy swallow and announced to the gathering, "With this offering, the time of feasting and alliance will take its first steps toward the end."

As one a sea of dark unblinking eyes, black as sunglasses, turned expectantly towards SG-1. "To the end," they intoned.

Daniel tried to be charitable, thinking the Chindee really couldn't honestly know how saying stuff like that made one wonder if they were about to be poisoned and bravely raised his mug to take a deep drink.

Beside him Jack eyed his own cup and took a suspicious sip eyebrows twitching. But still Daniel noticed he remembered to raise it and make the proper head inclination. Not thirty degrees. Not twenty-five. But just some hair's breadth in-between. "Down the hatch." Jack opined solemnly to the crowd.

E'tan clapped his hands together and the feast began.

***

They hadn't been poisoned.

Although Daniel almost wished they had.

He stared unhappily at the full plate before him. A mound of rice gently blended with tender fish meat and plump little cranberries and pinenuts rested there. The rice was lightly dusted with something like cinnamon. Daniel poked at it with his wooden spoon. It was official. He was nauseous. What had begun as twinges were now full blown rolling sensations of custardy unease. The thing most bewildering was the food actually looked and smelled good, and his stomach still growled in hunger. In fact, it was practically speaking Chinese at this point. He dug his spoon in. The breezy scent of lightly braised whitefish hit his nose, and in total contradiction his stomach rolled. Daniel abruptly set the spoon down.

He was hungry. But maybe not that hungry.

"Is our food not to your liking?" Daniel looked up startled at E'tan's sardonic words, several of those nearest him stopped to peer over, dark eyes watching.

Stumbling, Daniel haltingly searched for the proper response as he made an abortive hand gesture into a reach for his spoon. "I was...er...merely...in contemplation over the bounty before us," he drew out awkwardly.

"In fact it's...uh...great. Best thing I've ever had." Daniel scooped a bite of the fish into his mouth. Chewing determinedly, he swallowed. Then froze. For a moment, he thought it wasn't going to go down.

Hastily, as soon as E'tan looked away Daniel took a giant gulp of the milk mixed with syrup, forcing it down.

From that point forward he stuck to moving the food around his plate and holding his spoon like he was going to eat any minute now, right after he finished this most engaging, utterly intriguing, gotta write it down in my diary, part of the current conversation. Yes, sir. Any minute now he'd be taking that bite. But gosh, oh golly, would you listen to what Senior Counsel Member Tall Guy In Charge of All Things Involving Knots was saying over there. Excuse me but a moment as I talk to him. Set spoon down. Pick it up again. All without letting it go anywhere near archeologist's lips.

Daniel took a deep breath and nearly choked on the waxy smell of food and flowers, his stomach giving an unhappy clench.He gripped the spoon tighter between his fingers and nodded encouragingly to the older man opposite him, smiling tightly, yes, please go on and on and on. Please.

Maybe he was getting the flu?

Fraiser had checked them all out before they'd left, and he’d been feeling fine. In fact during breakfast coffee number one, two, and three his stomach hadn't even given so much as a twinge. And exotic food, he glanced down then hastily away, had always been his thing. Sheep's intestines, weird spices, mustards that set your mouth on fire, bring them on, they were like his meat and potatoes. He'd never even had normal American food until he was, what, eight? Daniel took a shallow breath, holding on to the pleasant smile by the skin of his teeth, however, right now if he never saw plain old dappled rice ever again he'd be okay.

His current companion lifted a brown tattooed hand to signal the serving boy for more drink, and Daniel took a moment to sneak a glance at the others talking animatedly around him. Normally he'd be reveling in this sort of thing. Asking about the wall hangings, the dancing figures carved on the bowls, the symbolic purpose they served. Jumping in and smoothing any translation difficulties for his teammates. He'd imagined many things going wrong with this mission, unfortunately, not one of which involved his rebellious stomach. It was all he could do not to turn green and keep making interested noises.

Surreptitiously, Daniel peeked at his watch under the table.

Counting down the minutes until it was all over.

He took a shallow breath trying not to breath in any more of the scents and nodded encouragingly as the brown turbaned man turned back to him.

***

Daniel Jackson.

Archeologist.

Linguist.

Failed diplomat.

Daniel stared unhappily at the empty table setting opposite him and winced. He was pretty certain he'd driven his assigned Chindee dinner companion away by some form of rudeness. He'd done everything he could think of. Speaking of topics in the proper order. Keeping himself composed in a respectfully attentive position, nodding to indicate he was taking in the wisdom of the older man's words. Yes, knots were indeed very interesting. Tell me more. Being certain to not chew with his mouth open or wipe his nose on his sleeve - which weren't listed in the Chindee Rules of Appropriate Conduct, per se, but certainly should count for something. Daniel stared around at the various Chindee dignitaries who were taking the break in the meal to speak to each other away from the table, the SGC's business not being the only one at hand. The general was counting on him - Daniel winced, okay, hello, Mr. Egomaniacal, your table is ready - General Hammond was counting on all of them, the entire team, to pull this off. But still…

Daniel reached a hand down and fingered the corner of the leather document case leaning against his silk cushion ready for the moment Jack would need it.

The words had taken forever to figure out.

He'd started in his office.

But he just couldn't find the right words there so he'd moved to the cafeteria.

Teal'c and Sam had watched warily, as Daniel's books and SG-7's mission notes crept farther and farther across the blue tablecloth slowly nudging aside both their elbows and then their soup trays. Jack had taken one look and immediately rescued his endangered slice of cherry pie. Eating from the plate in hand, Jack pointed a fork at Daniel saying there was always the three story gateroom walls if Daniel's post-it note army continued its bent for world domination.

Actually, Daniel had ended up taking over the briefing room table instead.

All fourteen feet of it.

Which Jack discovered upon strolling in the next morning at zero eight hundred, freezing in astonishment. Apparently finding the right words took up a LOT of paper - like four or five reams of it.

Eyeing the growing piles in alarm, the colonel smoothly reversed his steps. Backpedaling as fast as possible declaring he had left the stove on somewhere. A maneuver Daniel couldn't help but comment on with a muttered, "Coward!"

To which Jack called over his shoulder an offer to send out a search party if Daniel wasn't heard from in a week. Heck, he'd even be generous and send in the marines.

They'd better be packing Starbuck's, Daniel shouted back, otherwise he couldn't be held accountable for what the paper troops might do to them. But the colonel was long gone, and the paper trail of words remained.

Somewhere around seven that night the general wandered out of his office heading towards the coffee pot in the corner. Considering his office's glass map window, he'd no doubt peripherally been aware of the hunched over figure at the conference room table for hours.

The older man took in more fully now the bent form as well as the large pile of crumpled discards shoved towards the bevy of empty Starbuck's containers at table's center. The general turned away shaking his head. Picking up a mug, he bent to read a lone yellow square of paper stuck to the wall above the coffee station where Daniel had puckishly written out. "Post-it notes one. O'Neill zero."

Hammond glanced over his shoulder amused and finally understanding the origin of the Starbuck's pile.

Not looking at what he was doing, the glass carafe slipped noisily back onto the hotplate, the general rescued it, but not before it clattered against metal. Daniel never stirred. Head resting on one fisted hand, the younger man continued to frown ferociously as he scribbled out notes in short sharp cursive across the legal pad.

It would seem Colonel O'Neill wasn't the only one losing the battle to superior forces.

The general moved to stand beside Daniel. Reaching past the hunched shoulders, he pulled one of the rough drafts from the pile. He read the paper, read it through twice, then frowning himself, Hammond slowly sat and blindly reached out to snag a set of post-it notes - the baby blue ones - and jotted down several extra phrases.

Without looking up, Daniel accepted the blue post-it which slid into his view. He read it, then stuck it next to his own yellow ones bristling across the edge of the latest version.

After a moment, another set of comments appeared - this time on baby doll pink. Blindly, without looking, the archeologist cum linguist reached out for those as well. His hand froze on the paper at a sudden realization as the paper did not immediately let go. His head shot up. With surprise Daniel noticed the general sitting beside him for the first time.

Hammond nodded and gestured to the stacks of paper covering every surface. Daniel grimaced and shrugged. Hammond inclined his head and raised both eyebrows, implying perhaps two heads might in this case be better than one. Daniel's expression was flummoxed, then a slow tentative smile spread across his face.

"Yes, sir. I'd like that." He spoke for the first time.

Then they settled to working in earnest. Daniel reading, marking out, revising.The general offering suggestions, adjustments, adding his own military phrasing. Both nudging the words to say what the SGC needed it to.

Until somewhere around midnight, after too many rounds of coffee refills and at least one attempt and now with a legal pad bristling with notes and cross-outs, they'd both decided it was as good as it was going to get.

"Dr. Jackson?" General Hammond called Daniel back as he'd stepped from the older man's office, the signed final version tucked in the leather case under his arm ready for typing in the morning.

Daniel ducked his head back in, thinking the general had thought of something to add that they'd forgotten. He stood there waiting, only to be left puzzling. Whatever Hammond had been about to say, something in Daniel's fatigue ridden face made him sweep it away with the wave of a hand, his eyes kindly. "Never mind, son. It was nothing. Go home and rest. I know you're going to do your best. You always do."

Yes, sir, his best.

Daniel fingered the leather case and took in the empty position across from him, then Jack's empty cushion beside him and Jack's equally empty plate. Daniel stared back at his own, food still waiting uneaten.

His best did not seem to be doing too well today.

Sam gently touched his elbow, her expression sympathetic. Beneath the table she opened her palm and offered him the contents.

"Rolaids--the keys to endurance. You wouldn't believe the number of official dinners it saved me from when I lived in Washington." She confided conspiratorially keeping an eye out for her own dinner companion, a Chindee counsel member who had spotted a colleague across the room and had just finished excusing himself with a flick of his many ringed fingers.

Daniel gave Sam a wan smile. "Thanks." Gratefully he took them, crunching the tablets. They were supposed to be mint flavored but they tasted like chalk. Crumbly and white in his mouth.

Sam glanced around the room to make certain no one was looking and then held out both hands. With relief, Daniel nudged his plate over towards her and let her neatly scoot several helpings onto her own. Now at least his looked semi-eaten off of. She gave him an easy grin. "Don't worry, Daniel. We light weights have got to stick together. Did you even see how many helpings the colonel had? Yikes."

"Oh, I don't know. In some cultures, being able to eat three helpings is a sign of great things?" Daniel drew out, absently stirring the stuff left on his plate in a spreading circle. Maybe he could hide some of it in his napkin next. Idly he drew the symbol for Earth.

"Really? Great things? Great BIG things?!" She couldn't help teasing.

"Sa-am!" But Daniel's mouth twitched.

Her comical expression made him smile despite himself. She grinned at him. This, along with the Rolaids, made him feel a little bit better, which was no doubt what Sam had intended.

A gong rang out announcing the end of the food, adding to his relief.

"Saved by the bell." Sam groaned. "Much more of this and I was going to have to start thinking about loosening my own belt."

The meal--meals if you counted all twelve of them each with ten minute intervals in-between - was finally winding down at what Daniel's watch was counting as 2 AM. The remainder of the guests began to rise from the table. Some left the great chamber to seek pursuits elsewhere, others formed small conversational groups in various corners of the room.

Some of them already were angling to speak to SG-1. Sam's dinner partner returned this time with a colleague and E'tan. Sam unfolded herself to greet them, her face turning serious once more as she concentrated on giving the greeting of incomplete communication just as Daniel'd taught her to. She gave a covert glance towards Daniel to make certain she'd done it right. He nodded encouragingly.

Daniel moved to back her up. He paused halfway through the motion. Okay, that was not pleasant. Silently gritting his teeth, he tucked an arm surreptitiously around his middle and finished rising. Not now. Please not now.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jack frown at him from across the room and make a bee-line towards him, but the governor calling Jack's name brought the older man up short. Jack's face twisted briefly in annoyance, then he wheeled around with his official "yes, I am a leader" face on. The Chindee governor gestured with his hand, and Jack followed him out onto the terrace, throwing a look past Daniel as he went.

Teal'c suddenly appeared at Daniel's side.

"Doing okay, Teal'c?" Daniel asked a little too brightly, trying to breath shallowly.

"I was about to ask the same of you, Daniel Jackson." Several of the ground level counselors made motions to approach Daniel, Teal'c lowered his eyebrows at them in frowning negation, and they abruptly found other directions to go in. Unfortunately, Malla, who had seemed to have Jack cornered for half the night, didn't choose to see or acknowledge the hint. She bore down on them both.

"I see you do not like our food. Where is the honor in denying it?" Her words not only snapped with displeasure, indicating her awareness of how Daniel'd been on the verge of insulting their hosts all evening, but also seemed to carry a secondary waspish meaning.

Daniel stiffened the false expression of brightness faltering slightly. "No. No, it’s…" making me sick to my stomach, "…fine. Truly. How could the...uh... Chindee offer but otherwise to their honored guests. It is a superior display of the personalities of the dishes. I am but merely regretful that my appetite is not up to the task."

The old harridan looked him up and down dark eyes disapproving, and all but sniffed. "Said prettily enough."

For a foreigner - was the part of her speech that went without saying.

She shook her turbaned head, then abruptly turned to Teal’c, who Daniel was startled to notice with a double take, was looming protectively and not a little menacingly at his side now. "You are a Jaffa are you not?"

"I am." Teal'c acknowledged equally imperiously. Definitely looming now.

Disapproving-Old-Barracuda-Right-Hand-to-the-Estate-of-the-People, met, Man-Who-Had-Been-First-Prime-to-a-GOD!

Both came out equal.

Malla raised an eyebrow.

"You have a son. Come tell me about this," she commanded.

Turning she swept regally through the crowd without waiting for acknowledgment simply expecting Teal'c to follow. Which after a sardonic eyebrow and several jerky hinting nods from Daniel, he did.

Sam excused herself from E'tan and moved to stand beside Daniel. "You okay?"

Why did everyone keep asking him that?

"Fine."

"I've got some stronger stuff in my pack I can go and get."

"No, it's okay." Daniel shook his head and tried to stand up straighter; trying to exhibit some of the enthusiasm he'd started the mission with. As he did so, he caught E'tan looking over at them expectantly.

Sam stared at Daniel doubtfully and opened her mouth to comment, but Daniel artfully countered with a speedy, "So, how's it going on your end?"

Sam grimaced. "I don't know."

"I don't know, good? Or, I don't know, bad?"

"It's weird. On the one hand, they're all very polite, of course, but there's something just..." She shrugged and made a face. "I don't know...just under the surface, I can tell they want to know something, but I can't tell what it is. You know?"

"Really? Like what?" All of Daniel's conversations had been incredibly stilted, with no true depth to them, they'd certainly not asked him any personal questions or much about Earth much to his surprise. One would think they'd be curious. In fact, Daniel'd been getting the distinct impression that the Chindee who were speaking to him were only doing so out of duty, putting up with a barely tolerated guest. It wasn't his eating or lack there of, the attitude had been there practically from the first minute he'd stepped foot in the room.

"I don't know. They're curious about us and Earth, of course. But almost every one of them wants to know more about my dad."

Daniel became interested despite his queasy stomach. "Because he's a Tok'ra?"

Sam glanced around and lowered her voice. "That's the funniest thing. I don't think so. I don't think they're looking for intel on our other alliances. They just seem to gloss over that part, and then the next thing I know we're off Dad and like whiplash we're back to talking about community based infrastructure and communication systems. But they've got this curiously satisfied look on their face. I can't figure it out."

"I don't know. Maybe we should ask..." Daniel paused, as they were interrupted by E'tan, bowing before Sam and asking if she’d like to see the gardens.

Looking nonplused Sam watched as E'tan then put his hand on his heart adding in the best courtly fashion, every inch the six foot seven rock solid warrior. "Surely it would be the greatest of my honors to escort a guest to our world and show them the beauty that is there."

Daniel watched in fascination as a faint flush crept into Sam's cheeks.

"Er...uh..." She stammered.

"Sounds like?" Daniel murmured helpfully.

Sam threw him a narrow-eyed look, clearly vowing future revenge, and plunged ahead. "Sure.I...why not? I mean..." She stopped, inclined her head and brought her hand up in the gesture of acceptance--hand to heart, then a smooth move outward, palm up and gently cupped. "I would be honored to be shown the forefather's gardens and learn of their native history."

E'tan's black eyes lit with gentle humor, not bothering to point out that Sam had used her right hand and not her left giving a somewhat different and decidedly more scandalous meaning to the gesture. Instead he said, "Then it shall be so." He looked over politely, ever the host. "Dr. Jackson would you care to join us?"

"No," Daniel drew out. "Thank you. I am honored but no. I believe I will go and assist Colonel O'Neill."

"I do not believe that is wise. But then surely I am not one to advise you." E'tan cautioned.

"Oh?"

E'tan made a gesture of information freely offered. "Yes, I do not believe your presence would be of benefit. In fact, it might harm it for the Cha'dae would then have to acknowledge you personally which would be awkward considering one's laws."

"One's laws?" Houston, I think we have a problem.

"Yes, our laws are firm about those who may address the Cha'dae. It must be people. People of good household and honor. Your Colonel, by the very rank he holds, one allows, an indication as such. However, it has been recently pointed out that although desired, perhaps, we may not necessarily make such similar assumption with the rest of his party." Meaning SG-1, Daniel realized. E'tan's stony facade somehow managed to convey great discomfort, even embarrassment, at this.

"I see." Houston, I think we may have a really BIG problem.

E'tan looked relieved. "Yes, it is good that you do. You have tried to honor many of our ways. That much is obvious. Please, honor this one as well."

"Thank you, for your information. I will take it in the spirit it is intended." Daniel agreed, treading carefully with his words and signing a gesture of acceptance of information of value.

Bowing them out, E'tan led Sam away.

This left Daniel standing looking after them, until they were lost in the crowd. A crowd that showed no signs of having any interesting in talking with him now that Sam and E'tan had gone. He sighed. Houston, any chance of swapping crews mid-flight because our mission specialist is crashing and burning big time here?

The night was almost over and despite everything he was still hungry. Terribly, nauseatingly, hungry. And confused. He glanced around him. Very confused. The Chindee did not like him. Fortunately the dislike did not extend to his team. Just him.

Daniel held onto his even expression as several people looked at him and then hastily looked away.

It was not his imagination.

A very young serving boy, no more than ten with a red surcoat and short brown hair, solemnly bowed before him and offering up cups of fragrant sweet tea on a tray. Dishearteningly even he wouldn't meet Daniel's eyes. Politely, Daniel thanked the top of his head and the child hastily moved onward. With no one to talk to, Daniel palmed the tea pretending like he might at some point drink it and watched the boy serve the others in the room. Which put him in the perfect position to notice the tyke surreptitiously sneaking a left over honey cake into his pocket when he set the heavy tray down for adjustment. He watched in distracted amusement, as the little figure snuck the forbidden treat away. No doubt to be consumed later.

Stealing treats. It was such a very human thing for the little Chindee child to do. In fact there'd been a time when even he had been hungry and greedily hoping for...

The cacophony of noise in the room seemed to escalate, pressing against Daniel. Several Chindee glanced over at him frowning. A heated discussion seemed to have arisen in one of the darker corners of the room by the dias. Swallowing, Daniel tried to nod and perform a proper acknowledgment, but this only served to increase the whispering as they turned their back to him entirely. Then again maybe E'tan was right, he thought holding himself stiffly, maintaining his smile, fresh air wasn't such a bad idea after all. He clenched his jaw, face aching. Right now in fact! Hurriedly Daniel retreated through one of the large archways leading out onto the moonlit terrace.

Once outside, he stumbled in the dark and caught himself on the terrace's railing. Grabbing onto it for dear life. Terrace or balcony - could it even be still called that after they were eighty feet up? Daniel wondered wildly as he caught a glimpse of the view over the side. He squeezed his eyes abruptly shut. They were VERY high up. Sucking in a breath, he promptly choked on the sickly sweet smell of flowers. His stomach heaved at the cloying scent. He fell back a couple of steps and gratefully leaned with his weight against the wall gulping in air. He would not be sick he silently told the thumbnail of blue-white moon. He would NOT be sick. If nothing else, he could prevent that final cap to the evening.

He dragged in air trying to breath without smelling.

Please don't do this. Please. He begged his rebelling body.

Hearing voices he rolled his head to the left and tried to focus outward. Down the long curve of the balcony he could see Jack and the Chad'ae framed in the golden light of the other doorway. Jack was holding out his hand to the Chad'ae. Awkwardly the governor took it and then after a moment Jack helped him shake it. Jack then made a more than passable attempt at one of the bows Daniel'd taught him - the one of Equal to Equal.

He watched as Jack executed the motion flawlessly.

Daniel tried to smile. At least that was one thing that had gone right.

Practice had made it perfect.

The tangling sound of wind chimes turning gently in the night air reached him along with the brush of a soft breeze. Waxy, white-yellow scent overwhelmed him, hitting him full in the face. His grip on his stomach tightened.

For the good of the mission, for the good of the team, for the sake of world peace, he would NOT under any circumstances throw up.

The flowers. His eyes searched the night. They were everywhere. He couldn't escape them. Bile rose within, twisting against hunger.

Turning away, Daniel stumbled around a corner and found a potted plant. The only good part of the next several minutes, was that his emptying stomach swiftly reducing itself to dry heaves. He knelt there, body shuddering, trying to be quiet.

God, he was really screwing things up.

An unexpected hand touched his shoulder, making him start violently, but it only rubbed at his back until the heaving subsided. Slow circling motions and a clam pressure against his shoulder.

Finished Daniel took the handkerchief that suddenly appeared and rubbed at his mouth. "Not surprising that something in those twelve courses didn’t agree with you. Course the fact that that’s kind of hard to do since I didn’t see you actually EAT anything." The familiar voice rumbled over him. Then inquired matter of factly, "So...nauseous?

"I'm fine." Daniel rasped. Tell everyone you were feeling a little nauseous but otherwise okay once. Just once. And then drop like a stone fifteen miles from the gate in the Land of the Light and nobody ever let you forget it.

A skeptical eyebrow went up but after studying Daniel's red eyes for a moment longer all Jack said was, "The party's wrapping up. We’ll get out of here soon enough."

"How'd it go?" Daniel asked, desperately attempting to pretend that being caught bent over a potted plant was normal.

"It was...interesting."

"Seriously."

"Yep," Jack nodded, "Seriously interesting."

"Ja-ack."

"Dan-iel." Jack helped Daniel get to his feet. The younger man staggered drunkenly but stubbornly waved off further assistance.

"I had to explain some things," things which in his current state Jack thought Daniel probably did not need to hear about. Jack gazed at the younger man. If he had been on his game no doubt Daniel too would have noticed Malla whispering into the Cha'dae's ear for half the night all the while throwing narrow eyed glances in Daniel's direction. The funny word "en'challa" coming up more than once. It took little imagination to wonder where the governor had been steered into forming the wrong impressions which he had later voiced to Jack. Very wrong impressions. Ideas that Jack had emphatically corrected. "I think we're good to go now." He merely said instead.

"You sure?" Daniel croaked.

"Nothing at all to worry about." Jack lied easily, not at all sure but knowing if it came down to choices, as the governor had delicately and then not so delicately implied, Jack knew which way he was going.

His team came first.

Screw the treaty. "They love us."

"Right. Uh-huh. Maybe if I try talking to..." Whoa. Okay. Dizzy now. Daniel staggered, but then waved away Jack's hasty grab.

"Okay, that's it. We're getting you out of here."

"No. The treaty."

"Daniel, screw the treaty. You're sick."

"No." Daniel stubbornly shook off Jack's hand.

"It's okay. They'll understand."

"No, it's not okay. And what if they don't understand." Daniel lurched to the balcony railing. He grabbed hold of it and held on for dear life. Gulping air. Jack took a step toward him, but Daniel's warning look stopped him.

"Why? Why this one? You've been obsessed about it." Jack added dryly, eyeing Daniel up and down, "More than normal."

When it looked like Daniel wasn't going to answer, Jack repeated, "Why this one?"

"Because I don't want to see it again." Daniel whispered, then looked over his shoulder at Jack who was pretending that he wasn't hovering while still managing to hover just in case Daniel took a nosedive. "Not ever."

Jack stared at Daniel, not for the first time deciding he really didn't want to know what it had been like to see the destruction of all their counterparts in that mirror universe.

"You think too much." He said abruptly.

"I know." Daniel nodded bleakly.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Daniel, you need to learn to relax. I'm talking serious time in Hawaii with Mai Tai's." He clapped his hand under the other man's elbow steadying him. "C'mon let's go get this over with, so you can go throw up in peace."

"I'm NOT going to throw up any more." Daniel insisted obstinately.

"Suure you're not."

"I'm not!"

"Okay."

And he hadn't, but it had been a near thing. Close enough that Jack had leaned over and asked all joking aside if Daniel wanted them to go back to the gate and dial Fraiser.

Not meeting Jack's gaze, Daniel, had just obstinately shaken his head and insisted it was only his allergies or maybe possibly the flu. He just needed to lie down and rest and everything would be fine.

It would have been a good plan, except for the fact that Daniel never slept well off world.

Actually Jack would say Daniel never slept well at all. But that was neither here nor there.

It wasn't as though Daniel didn't like to sleep. It was just that he had a lot of trouble shutting off his brain. He'd mean to go to bed but would get to thinking about things, and then thinking would lead to reaching for a notepad which would turn into pulling down a reference book for a quick peek to confirm a new line of thinking and the next thing he knew it was well past three A.M. and he'd be startled to find he was using the "Principles of Latin" as a headrest.

Daniel lay in his bunk by the window, where the white light of the moon cast a faint glow through the branches of the trees and listened to the gentle sounds of Jack snoring from across the room.

He glanced over at the dark shadow of the man. He envied Jack. He seemed to be able to sleep anywhere. Daniel suspected it was probably due to Jack's Special Forces background or all the special military training he'd gone through or something. He'd seen Jack sleep sitting straight up in a chair, arms crossed, or on one of the hard steel ledges of a teltac after a long mission.

But being able to sleep anywhere didn't mean one wasn't able to wake up on a seconds notice.

Daniel absently rubbed at a spot on his chest. He'd learned that bit of information the hard way.

He’d been swept off his feet and nose to gun barrel with Jack's '45 so fast that to this day he still had no idea quite how it had happened.

One minute he'd been reaching out for Jack's shoulder to tell him Jacob thought they would be in system in another thirty minutes, his fingers had barely brushed the khaki material and then he'd been spun and staring up nose to gun metal. Even cross eyed, the gun suddenly looked very big. So much so that he had barely even noticed the hard knee pressing the black kevlar vest they'd made him wear, bending it sharply into his ribs. For an instant a coldly feral look stared out of the familiar brown eyes.

And then it was gone. As was the gun.

A simple blink of the eyes and the dangerous stranger was replaced with Jack's face. A good natured shove, and his friend rolled to his feet, grousing and complaining about the odds of getting any decent coffee on the Jaffa ship. Stretching and yawning.

But the look had sent a rippling chill down Daniel's spine, making him glad, very glad, that some part of Jack while waking could tell it was Daniel. Could recognize friend from foe.

Friends and foes.

They came in all shapes and sizes.

Even the smallest of them.

Daniel stared through the window at the vine pattern of shadows dark against the moonlight, the barest hint of buds and star-shaped petals outlined amongst them.

His rebellious stomach had finally settled.

Most of the Chindee, except for Malla, had seemed to be genuinely thrilled in an austerely emotionally repressed sort of way with the idea of the SGC adding a protective layer between them and the snake demons. Daniel'd wanted to do everything right in cementing that feeling, in making a new alliance, building something good instead of always destroying or fighting and yet he'd managed to do it all wrong.

Sadly he realized now the others would have done a better job without him. Jack hadn't even needed the papers in the document case. They had proved useless, just meaningless words on parchment. The Chindee did not need those words they'd said.

And they'd said it just that way.

Not *those* words.

Daniel listened to Jack's even breathing. Trying to control his own.

How had he missed picking up that he hadn't gotten the words right?

They hadn't even wanted to touch the document case.

Their expressions looking as if Daniel had offered a folder with naughty sketches rather than one with official seals. Almost gratefully they seemed to have turned from him and spoken to Jack arranging for tomorrow's final meeting. The final decision to be made then.

Surreptitiously Daniel had slid the leather case back under the table. Hiding it from view. Shoving it away so it couldn't be seen. Knowing, it was by the sheerest luck the Chindee had missed or rather perhaps been too polite to point out that Daniel had not only not eaten their feast but somehow was sick to his stomach over their sacred flowers as well. Otherwise he didn't know what their reaction would have been. He'd said as much to Jack when they returned to their assigned room.

"Yeah, they're a real observant bunch. You'd think they'd see who was trying to make the effort here." Jack had growled as he'd dug around in his pack. "Bunch of tight assed over-tall wannabe basketball players."

"What?"

Jack pulled out his own bottle of antacids and thrust them at Daniel. Where Sam's had been plain and white. Jack's were tropical fruit flavored – six different ones to chose from. (Daniel wondered in bewilderment, was he the only one who hadn't thought to bring any?) Even Teal'c had solemnly offered two tablets in an outstretched palm-–traditional pink, of course. Standing over him until Daniel was dutifully chewing away at a banana and a grape tablet and swallowing another flavorless anti-histamine. Jack continued to scowl, arms crossed watching Daniel as he thought.

"You haven't been poisoned and you're not sick." Jack abruptly proclaimed obviously coming to a conclusion. "You're overworked. You've been working on this thing for over a week. Night and day. That's all anyone has heard about. Don't tilt your head that way. Don't bow that low. Don't cross the knife and fork on the plate when you're done. Don't. Don't. Don't. Don't walk and chew gum at the same time. It's all you've been doing all week. Making us perfect for these people. Making little lists and telling us how many million's of ways you've figured out we're gonna be offensive. I've got so many post-it's from you on my mirror I can't even shave anymore."

Hurt Daniel said, "You're point is?"

"My point is, when did you eat last?"

"This morning?"

"Coffee doesn't count."

"Last night."

"Neither do Oreo cookies."

Daniel opened his mouth to reply, only to have Jack hold up a warning hand, "It doesn't count if it came from a vending machine, from Sam's stash of chocolate, from Fraiser's secret Yoo-hoo cache or from anything they serve in the infirmary since none of that counts as real food. So setting those aside what was the last thing you ate."

Daniel frowned mutinously at him but remained silent.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Jack swung around, shaking his head, he dug around for a minute all the while muttering about the common sense God gave to lemmings and people with multiple degrees, he finally scooped up two packets from the items he'd dumped from his pack. "Here." He tossed the energy bars into Daniel's lap. "Try these. I think they'll make you feel better."

Gah. Shoe leather wrapped in foil. Daniel picked them up by the corners. Holding both out. "Thank you, maybe later."

"Not later. Now. Your stomach's hungry, Daniel. Get with the program. Speak the language. Your stomach is talking to you. I think your allergies or something are just getting in the way of you hearing it. So eat up. You want this mission to succeed. You want things to go better. Do what I say, forget about pleasing them and eat."

Jack then stood over Daniel arms folded until Daniel gave in and peeled back a corner of the foil to take a tentative nibbling bite just to get him to stop.

"Now," Jack added, a speculative gleam in his eye, "when was the last time you slept? Ah!" He held up a finger before Daniel could object. "Remember I know how to play this game, and I can out last you."

And that's how Daniel had wound up laying in bed and staring at the leaf shadows cast from the window listening to Jack snoring from across the room.

Daniel tentatively touched a hand to his stomach. No twinge of unease now greeted him. Weird.

Maybe Jack had been right, maybe, just maybe, he had been simply overly hungry and those energy bars had helped.

Daniel sighed, listening to the gentle breath sounds, and decided maybe that hadn't been the only thing Jack had been right about.

Tomorrow, the final set of ceremonies was scheduled. Along with another set of speeches. He could feel the outcome teetering on the edge. Despite Jack's growling that he'd set the Cha'dae straight on a few things. This time Daniel would work harder at it, this time he would find the right words for the Chindee to accept them.

To accept him.

He just needed to figure out what those words were.

Jack was right. He needed to rest. Then he'd get it right.

Yet, he'd been busy not falling asleep for the past hour.

Daniel rolled over, determinedly punching the square beanbag that they'd provided for a pillow.It slithered beneath his head with the small sound of rain. The hulls of whatever seeds were inside sliding back and forth. He plunked his head into it.

He was sleeping, Daniel told himself firmly.

He shut his eyes.

See, he was asleep.

***

There were a lot of sounds Jack O'Neill could live without waking up to, and Daniel's hoarse choking shout five feet from him was probably right up there in the top ten.

What the hell? The loud crash had Jack automatically yanking his gun from beneath the pillow and rolling out of bed to hit the floor. Skin prickling, he knelt there barefoot and swept the shadow. His brain catching up with his reflexes as he took in the empty wood walls and empty round doorway and the empty round window. Swiss Family Robinson tree house. Picky Emily Post mission. Daniel on the floor.

Jack thumbed the safety on and rose to move to help the room's only other occupant.

Daniel was sprawled beside his bunk. His arms flailed amongst a writhing tangle of blankets, but otherwise the younger man was harshly, grimly, silent as he fought to extricate himself.

Nothing was attacking Daniel except Daniel. He shoved the gun into his waistband and bent to help. Jack reached in and yanked Daniel out.

Daniel peered myopically around the room, taking in the shadowy shape above him and no doubt going through his own run down of Swiss Family Robinson - Emily Post Mission - Shouting Down the House. Embarrassment added color to the pale and shaken expression in moonlight. "Damn it," he said faintly.

Jack squeezed his shoulder. "Rough landing?"

There was a commotion at the door.

Teal’c with his staff weapon stood there barefoot and panting obviously having run up the ramp from the other hut, where he and Carter had been assigned. Carter also appeared with E'tan, her hair sticking up in funny directions, both suspiciously still dressed even though they'd all said their goodnights and bunked down several hours ago.

"Nothing to see. Daniel just saw a spider," Jack called moving to block the doorway.

"A spider?" Carter frowned in non-comprehension, she tried to peer past him. "Daniel?"

"Daniel, don’t move." Sam had cautioned suddenly as they’d been walking along the old crumbled corridor on the jungly P4X-927.

A large hairy mass had just plopped down onto the archeologist's back right in front of her. Daniel's hand had disturbed it from its nest when he brushed aside a set of vines in order to see more of the carvings hidden beneath.

"You appear to have gained a companion." Teal'c advised aiming his flashlight onto the shadowed creature which was moving industriously upward.

"Hm...what? Oh, hello." Daniel had murmured absently, his flashlight playing over the alien letters, then seeing the legs crawling over his shoulder. Daniel reached up and lifted it off. The spider's legs wiggling in the air, mandibles clicking, before he set it against the wall. Jack's flashlight tracked it as it inched itself away, hiding under more of the vines.

"Well, that thing had teeth and a backpack! In fact, I think it was getting ready to bite off your arm and take it home for dinner," Jack exclaimed.

"Um...not really."

"That thing was the size of most people's cats."

Sam remembered clearly Daniel's bemused expression clearly puzzled by the colonel's reaction. "It was only a spider, Jack, it’s not like it was a goa’uld or anything. Besides I spend most of my life digging into what’s the equivalent of prehistoric basements." He shrugged. "Running into a few spiders is part of the job."

"Well, that's a part of the job you can have."

Sam stared at the dark shadow of the colonel and the even darker shadow of Daniel on the floor beyond. "A spider?" she repeated doubtfully.

At her side, Teal'c sagely nodded. "Do you not remember Captain Carter of Daniel Jackson's aversion?"

Jack stared at her expectantly. Waiting. Waiting.

"Oh. Oh, right. Spiders."

"Yep. You know how they always freak Daniel out." Jack agreed cheerfully moving forward to block the doorless entry. "But it's gone now. No biggie." Jack signaled to Sam silently with his eyes.

She acknowledged the message with a slight inclination of her head, and moved to touch E'tan's arm drawing his attention away. "Yes, true. Everyone has something. Me now it's circus clowns. But that's probably not something you, um, have any experience with, right? So...uh...since we're not needed here why don't we get back to our walk." Her eyes lingered briefly on the doorway in concern before turning to him with a smile, expecting him to follow her.

E'tan looked back and forth between all of them, then past Jack's head. His height giving him an unfair advantage. Teal'c moved to block his gaze, a forbidding look on his face, and Jack twitched, rocked on his heels, mouth tight. Back off, they both seemed to radiate. Strangely, instead of being insulted, something approximating understanding seemed to cross E'tan's face. He inclined his head to Jack. "En'challa," the tall warrior stated cryptically with a strange sort of satisfaction as if something puzzling had just been solved.

"Right. En'challa. Komtrya. Whatever. Good night." Jack agreed heartily, his easy words not quite making it to his eyes.

"It is good to see."

"Yeah, nice to see you to." Jack made dismissing motions with his hands. Flicking his fingers in an unmistakable and imperious “go away now" gesture even if it were not Chindaen.

E'tan nodded once, in apparent satisfaction, and turned to walk away. After a hesitant moment Teal'c and Carter followed him their eyes signaling they'd want to talk later.

"Well, that was acutely embarrassing," came the muffled voice from behind him.

Jack watched as the others went down the pathway, and then started down one of the rope pulley systems before turning back to the room and Daniel. "Nah, you've done much worse things than that."

"Gee, thanks."

"What I'm here for."

Jack padded over to stand beside Daniel who sat on the floor, head in his hands. He knelt, briefly touching Daniel's shoulder. "You want to talk about it?"

"Not really, no."

Jack studied the bowed head a moment, then shrugged and squeezed the tense muscles under his hand. "Okay." Reluctantly he rose and moved away.

Jack stowed his gun within easy reach, and lay back on his own bunk, the ropes creaking under his weight. He shifted around, wriggled a bit, folded his arms beneath his head, got comfortable, waited a moment – and then proceeded to grill Daniel anyway.

"So this dream. It was a bad one, huh?"

Silence met him.

Jack glanced over at the bowed head, Daniel hadn't moved.

Okay, he'd try another tact.

"Hathor?"

A shadowy headshake.

"Apophis?"

No response.

He hesitated, then tried the big card. "Sha’re?"

Daniel's head came up outraged. "No."

There was a long pause, and then Daniel sighed, "No, nothing to do with them.It was about before Abydos and the SGC." He shook his head looking away. "Just stupid stuff."

Before the SGC?

Before Abydos?

That wasn't the answer Jack had been expecting.

It occurred to Jack that he tended to equate all the bad stuff in Daniel’s life as starting once he and all the aliens had come into it.Jack thought about that for a minute, not sure what the hell it meant but feeling uncomfortably guilty all the same.

He looked over and stared speculatively at Daniel.

Abruptly he said, "You know someone once told me that if you talk about things it might help make it easier."

Jack woke sweat slicked and icy skinned, still feeling the stinging bite of sharpened teeth against the base of his skull. The chill of rippling scales sliding against his skin. In a flash of pain, parting it and burrowing in.

Ripping the sleeping bag from him, he stumbled out of the tent, sweat quick drying against his body in the cold pre-dawn air.

Taking in the silence of the camp. Jack nodded towards Teal'c who looked over from his night watch position at the far end of the clearing. Sitting heavily on a log by the banked campfire. Even though he was awake he could still see it. Kawalsky's face twisting, his eyes glowing, skull cleaved in two.

He'd killed him.

Jack poked viciously at the flames with a stick. Over and over again.

His friend had already been dead.

But that didn't stop Jack's hands from twitching, wanting to reach up and again touch the smooth unmarred skin at the base of his own skull. No present from Chulak for him.

The gate only gave them the corpse. The poor bastard had already been handed a death sentence when the snake had burrowed its way into his brain, they just hadn't known it yet.

Jack dug harder into the fire.

He heard the slap of a tent flap, and Daniel came crawling out backwards.

Jack tensed refusing to look over.

"Couldn't sleep? Me either." Daniel commented easily as he sat down beside Jack. Which could have fooled Jack since Daniel had been dead to the world not five minutes after they had sacked out.

"It sure is cold here." Daniel rubbed his hands together and then shoved them deeper into his jacket pockets, hunching his shoulders for warmth.

Jack wasn't in the mood. But Daniel just settled down on the log, not looking at Jack, but rather at the flames. Jack would have told Daniel to go away to go back to sleep. But Daniel didn't say anything. And so Jack didn't either. And they just sat that way for a long time, both starring at the fire, as the stars slowly revolved above them.

After a while, Daniel bent down and picked up a small rock by his foot. Watching him Jack realized Daniel was bare foot. His toes scrunched into the sandy soil by the fire for warmth. Daniel rubbed the dirt away from the rock, studying it.

"You know," Daniel said contemplatively after a moment, not looking up, "there's this tribe down in the Amazon which believes that dreams are actually concrete energies." Jack watched him turn the rock over in his hands, rubbing bits of dirt free with his thumbs. "They believe they manifest themselves and are acted out on a different level of reality. Some levels good. Some not so good. To counteract the power of the nagne - the nightmare - they share them. And the sharing splits the nagne's power in half. So it loses the energy to harm." Daniel inspected the rock and Jack could see that it was gray and smooth, it looked like a river stone, but unexpectedly with a strata of some sort of harder white granite ribboning through it.

"Is this your way of asking me why I'm not sleeping?" Jack asked skeptically.

"Not really. I just thought you might find it interesting."

"Really?" Jack's voice was heavy with sarcasm.

Daniel shrugged. "I just thought it might give us something to talk about."

Inspecting it one last time, Daniel gave the stone an extra rub against the sleeve of his jacket and then offered it to Jack. But Jack just stared at it. Daniel smiled a quick flashing smile and shrugged as if it didn't matter if Jack took it or not, but he kept holding it out to Jack. Not taking his hand back. Keeping the offer open. And Jack could see that he would probably hold it there all night if he had to. "You never know. Sometimes talking helps. " Daniel said.

He'd had to fight to get it through decon., and the forms - good grief all the forms! - but the rock even now sat on his kitchen windowsill.

Jack looked over at the shadowed shape that was Daniel.

That stupid rock.

"There's no campfire. And we're too high up for rocks." Jack said.

There was a profound silence.

A light wind played in the branches of the trees overhead and somewhere wind chimes gently touched each other.

Jack didn't think it was gonna work, he started thinking about how stupid it all sounded to be talking about rocks, but then Daniel sighed, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes before looking up and saying, "Did you know that scent is the strongest trigger of memory? Studies have shown that it forms the strongest connection in the brains neural pathways. It bears links to all other senses sight and sound. People can often remember stuff by scent identification alone. In fact they've taken mothers and had them pick out their infants clothing from a stack of identical shirts even when the baby is only a week old."

"Huh?"

Then seemingly Daniel added in a non-sequitur. "Tube roses. Those white flowers, the ones in our leis, the ones that are everywhere, they’re tube roses. They grow on Earth you know. The scent is uniquely distinctive. Perfumers have been trying to replicate it for years."

"And, I say again. Huh?"

But Daniel was talking. This was good. Jack didn't know where they were going with it but he sensed they were circling in towards something.

It'd taken him a while to realize that. Where Jack liked to poke at fire with a big stick, Daniel rather beat around the bush with it first. Circling around things, until he felt comfortable enough to hit the real target and talk about what was actually bothering him. There was a real knack to it. Giving Daniel enough encouraging sounds until he worked his way to what was really at the center of something bothering him without getting distracted by all the extra shiny data he flung at you which wasn’t as important. So Jack lay there in silence letting him go on.

"Things change."

"Yeah." That seemed safe enough to agree with.

"Back when I was a kid things sort of changed a lot."

Jack frowned. This was more than Daniel having an inconvenient allergy attack or having a sudden half realization/half dreamt flashback revealing that Hathor’d forced him to lick scented oil off of her. This was serious. This was in the big NO space.

Since the Gamekeeper messed with their heads, Daniel and he had this sort of mutual exclusion contract. No talking about Daniel's dead parents. No talking about his own dead ki...no talking about Charlie. No talking about failed missions. Just no. It was good. It was comfortable. It was mutual denial.

"I stayed with a lot of people. There was this one place..."

Daniel didn't say home.

Jack noticed Daniel never called any of the places he stayed as a kid "home". It was a word Daniel couldn't seem to connect with. Even now, the musty loft apartment he'd picked out as a temporary and then not so temporary place to stay while they searched for Sha're, he only ever called, the Apartment. Never home. Daniel never went home.

Jack thought as a linguist Daniel might've noticed the slip, but he never seemed to.

Jack waited, holding his relaxed pose, hands tucked behind his head.

"There was this woman in New York. Lily. I stayed with her for a while."

The words were sparse. The sentences short and uninformative. Daniel might be the guy who spoke twenty-three different languages, only half of which Jack could discern from gibberish, but fortunately when it came to monosyllabic responses and long empty pauses, Jack was an expert.

"They worked her awfully hard. And things often ran kind of late, I guess."

A child wearily sat on a stoop. Sighing, he tugged the sleeves over his hands and rested his chin on fists. He watched the dark street. Waiting expectantly. Time passed, and he still waited. He’d thought it was late. All the cars had stopped passing and it was dark. But you couldn’t see any clocks from any of the spots he’d stood on tiptoe to peer into the windows from so he hadn’t been sure. Maybe his tummy had only made it feel late. Finally, he spotted her, the sky blue dress and white apron, navy blue coat flapping against her legs as she teetered on high heels up the street.

"She was a waitress. "

Jack lifted his head. "Like with the skirt and the apron and the hat? "

Daniel wrapped his arms around his knees and stared at his bare toes. He wiggled them absently against the floorboards."Yeah, the whole thing."

"Well, look what the cat dragged in. You waitin’ here for me to come home, honey? Well, isn’t that sweet." Bending down over him, she kissed both his cheeks like she was French, only she wasn’t French. She deliberately left two smears of her sticky cherry red lipstick behind, she always did that thinking it was funny. Only it wasn't funny.

He peered up. "She had trouble handling stress. You know how little kids can be?"

"Big stressors?"

"Something like that."

She was carrying a brown grocery bag. It clinked when she set it heavily down on the sink. She only drank from a glass. She said only alcoholics drank from the bottle. The smell was strong. The yeasty tang mixing with diner leftovers making his stomach growl harder. His mama had said to wait for permission before taking food. He could remember how he’d hop from one foot to the other in eager anticipation as Kasha had handed out the Turkish candies he’d brought back with him to the camp from his trip home. But Daniel thought if he kept waiting Lily might forget to share again. She forgot a lot when she was tired. At first his fingers had just run into cardboard and bottles of smooth glass. But then he felt the waxed white paper that the diner used for its doggy bags.

"I was particularly demanding as child." Daniel confessed.

"You? Demanding? Nah." But Jack's sarcasm hid a growing anger. The fewer words Daniel used the stronger the image Jack got.

She slapped a hand down on the bag, trapping his beneath it. "What do you think you’re doing? What-do-you-think-you-are-doing?"

She did that sometimes, spread out her words like she was speaking to someone who couldn’t understand. Daniel figured it was because when he'd first come to stay with Lily, he’d sometimes forgotten the English words for things and had used one of the funny different ones. He knew the right words now. He’d tried to show her he did. But he hadn’t explained it right.

"I take you in and struggle and slave away all day long to provide for you the best I can. And this is the thanks I get? You trying to steal from me? You can't give me five minutes to relax and put my day behind me before you start taking stuff. You got to have things now. Right now, isn't that right?"

"Please?" Daniel asked.

"Please give me some peace and quiet. That’s what please is for."

The smile. It was pretty. Until you looked at her eyes and saw how cold they were.

"Funny that it's her perfume I remember. It hung like smoke on everything. It didn't mix well with other scents."

She marched him across the room. He grabbed at her hand apologizing but she pulled it back as she yanked open the front door. She wrenched off the navy jacket and thrust it at him before slamming the door closed. He knocked and knocked but she didn't answer. He slumped down onto the cold stoop, she'd change her mind soon, after she had a few minutes to think about it.

He glanced toward the sky. The orange light from the street lamps hid the stars from him so that the sky looked empty. The street was empty too. Just him, no one else.

It'd never been just him in the time before. All their camps had always been so crowded. Research assistants, and grad students, interns and workers from the village, his mama and papa.

The cement was cold. The nights had never been cold back there in the desert either. Slowly he pulled the oversized jacket. Her perfume lay thick in the material. He wiggled his hands until he finally got them down the too long sleeves.

There'd always been a campfire. Laughter. Even in the tent at night he could hear the others talking. Sometimes there'd even been music, a guitar and singing would lull him to sleep. Not like here.

He stared down at the empty street wishing for someone, anyone to walk by. In the distance a truck starting its engine and then slowly he could hear it lumbering away.

There was no one coming for him anymore. No one except Lily.

He folded his arms around himself and waited for her. The scent of greasy food drifted up from his hands to mix with the heavy flowery scent used and made his stomach roll from painful hunger over towards nausea.

He'd leaned back against the door and waited for her to change her mind.

The reason their current mission was so damn important to Daniel was a whole lot clearer to Jack now. He thought with a clenched jaw. Crystal in fact.

What was it like to be the only one left at the end of your world - not once, but twice?

"The flowers." Daniel shrugged. "Weird, but I guess they remind my stomach of her perfume."

Isn't your stomach a part of you? Jack wondered, but didn't interrupt knowing if he did then Daniel would stop. And Daniel needed to not stop.

Daniel was talking about it like it was a not particularly interesting separate entity. Not like a part of him that was sending a message straight to his subconscious. Jack realized now what Daniel had been crying out as he'd tumbled to the floor.

Please.

Daniel leaned against the wall in the pre-dawn light, arms pulled deep into the heavily perfumed coat. He pretended the queasy rumbles of his stomach was some alien language. Chinese maybe. Or an odd form of Arabic. Somewhere in the early morning twilight his eyes finally drifted closed because a voice above him jolted him awake. Startled, he peered around, realizing it was full daylight.

"What are you doing down here, kid? Ain't it a little early to be waiting for the school bus?"

He blinked up and said quietly, "I'm waiting for Lily. She worked late and needed to rest first."

"Hell, she's gone to work. Marty's got her doing doubles today at the Waffle House. Better get to school or we'll have to fetch the law and drag you back home." Frank, their neighbor who was also a cop, laughed, a big deep laugh like what he'd said was somehow ironically funny. Daniel simply stared up at him, not understanding the words.

Jack, hands rested on his chest, fingers tightly laced together, staring blindly up at the ceiling.Listening. Listening. Holding himself back. Just listening.

"There were so many, I barely remember most of the places I stayed. Funny how memory works. And, yet it was her perfume."

"Yeah, funny." Jack agreed mirthlessly. Real funny. Funny enough to make you heave at the memory. In fact, funny just like the way Jack always puked at the first smell of curry.

"Does American want to talk today?" Spicy hot breath against his face following the curve of the guard's knife's blade as he played the flat of it down Jack's cheek. "Oops. I slip.Clumsy me."

Yep, a real barrel of laughs.

Jack considered Daniel. There was no anger in the other man's voice, which somehow made Jack all the madder. He took in the rest of the moonlit room knowing the one he really wanted to confront wasn't there. His narrow gaze lit on an object across the way.

Abruptly standing up, he strode across the room. Daniel's head came up and he watched in astonishment as Jack snatched up the vase with the white star flowers sitting on the little round table and pitched it out the open window. Fortunately there weren't any startled shouts of surprise as the clay contents crashed to the ground far below.

"I don't know about you, but I'm sick and tired of all the damn flowers around here."

Daniel blinked in surprise then blurted out, "I'm not eight anymore, Jack."

Jack came and sat down on the floor beside Daniel, he leaned back against the bunk stared about the room for a moment before meeting Daniel's gaze. "No, you're not. And, you're not alone anymore either." The words weren't just serious. They were deadly serious, anger still simmering somewhere beneath the surface. Daniel had the strangest vision of himself sitting alone on that stoop and suddenly there was another child, an older one, with sandy brown hair and mischief in his brown eyes, sitting down next to him.

The vision was strangely comforting. "Thank you."

And the child merged with the Jack beside him. Both looking over at him and raising an eyebrow as if to say, not a problem.

He gently tousled the head, like you would your kid brother. "It's what I'm here for." He repeated the earlier words. Jack’s hand slid down, and he rubbed at the lingering tension in the back of Daniel's neck, giving it a squeeze of reassurance.

Then the moment passed. A sardonic twist came over Jack's mouth and using Daniel's shoulder to push himself to his feet, he said, "Now how about getting some sleep? After all you wouldn't want to nod off during the bark eating contest or whatever is planned for tomorrow."

"Ritual marking of the allied is what Malla said." As Daniel got up and then settled himself onto his bunk.

Jack lay down and forced the beanbag pillow into a ball under his head. "Right. Ritual marking. These guys do love their rituals. You'd imagine they probably even have a ritual for..."

The smirk froze, Jack suddenly looked over asking suspiciously, "Hey, what do you mean marking? Marking like how?"

"Well..."

"You meant like with magic markers or something, right?" Jack frowned, suspicion growing. "Right?!"

"Er..."

His eyes narrowed, "Dan-iel."

Silence greeted him.

Jack plunked his head back against the slithering beans and growled to the ceiling, "Great. Just great. Well, these markings had better say 'Property of the United States Air Force.' That's all I'm saying."

***

Actually the tattoos had said that and a whole lot more. Written out in shiny lemon juice, which swirled over their arms and the crest of their faces and soaked into their skin. The whole process had taken over an hour and a half of meticulous detailing and then been washed away in the span of about five minutes.

Jack sniffed experimentally at his hands, yep, still lemony fresh, still smelling like lemon scented Pledge.

After all the hoopla, that's all it had taken.

Just some smelly Pledge.

Who'd have guessed?

No promised meeting. No long drawn out discussions. It was not what Jack had been expecting. He'd been expecting a re-hash of last night's debate. To be totally honest, he'd been more than expecting to be leaving royally pissed off today. Seeing the Cha'dae and counsel members look towards him and his team at breakfast and the gracious if startling offer to sign the contract Daniel had written right in-between morning groats and the ever present sweet tea had not just been a little startling.

Jack glanced over at the man beside him, who was talking with E'tan. Jack could tell Daniel didn't have a clue either as to why they'd been offered such an amicable final reprieve. His gaze shifted to E'tan, but Jack had his suspicions.

Now, following their entourage, he and his team were making their way back to the gate in order to act out their final set of - please, God, let it be the last - bows.

Jack tucked the leather case more firmly under his arm, he’d retrieved it from where someone had negligently shoved it under a table, the documents inside now signed, sealed, and bowed over. Up ahead, he could hear Carter murmuring to Teal'c about how she wouldn't be eating again for a month, Teal'c answering back that he too was filled beyond the level of comfortable capacity.

None of them were wearing the ceremonial leis.

He and Daniel had shown up without them as they'd all crammed into Teal'c and Carter's small quarters before breakfast. The captain had protested, "Sir...the ritual requires..." But Jack had cut her off with an abrupt, "Not this time." She slid her eyes towards Daniel and back, and made the connection. He could see the concern in their blue depths as she hesitantly agreed feeling her way. "I suppose so sir if that's…"

Teal'c interrupted with a stronger, "Indeed. The smell was most unpleasant. I believe it was beginning to produce an allergic reaction." It was a blatant lie. Teal'c didn't have allergies not with Junior on board. Daniel's mouth fell open, and Jack all but laughed.

"You do not wear our offerings." Malla noted now as they lined up for the final coup de bye-bye.

"Yeah, well, we go as we came." Jack shot back, eyes hard. Bitch.

Her eyes narrowed, Ignorant Dirt Dweller.

Jack's gaze didn't back down. Bite me.

The matriarch drew herself up in indignation. "This is a comment against our honor. It is an insult to our station. It is not to be. How dare you-"

She stopped at a hand on her arm from the Cha'dae. The older man indicated the aliens before him like they were an exhibit she had not studied carefully enough. "Now, Malla. The Tau'ri colonel is right. He has come honoring our ways. Now he must go honoring his own."

The governor inclined his head--Leader Of Many To Equal Of Rank.

Jack swept off his baseball cap and ducked his head the requisite fraction down, then not without irony he turned and angled it slightly lower indicating Leader Of Rank To One Of Lower But Respected Station at Malla and E'tan. They followed suit. They had to. Though Malla's lips were so tight they looked like she'd been sucking on something sour--for days.

Jack resettled his cap on his head and said to the governor, "My people will be in touch."

The governor inclined his head, his black eyes surely not twinkling just the slightest little bit. "We will be awaiting them with much anticipation, and perhaps another small offering of food."

Jack's lips twitched, the mind and stomach boggled at the idea of what the Chindee might consider a large offering.

Jack signaled Carter to dial up the gate and waited for her to enter the GDO code. Checking the device attached to her wrist, she gave him a thumbs up - good to go. "Everyone ready to go home?" Jack asked, gathering his team in by eye. He noticed Daniel studying something cupped in his hand. He walked over to see. It was one of those flowers. Jack frowned uncertainly. "Daniel?"

"It sounds good." Daniel looked up at Jack, then past him to where Sam and Teal'c were worriedly watching.

An easy hand offering him Rolaids under a table.

A large reassuring presence frowning away strangers.

A friend to talk with in the middle of the night.

Daniel's blue eyes traveled from the white petaled flower cupped in his palm to the skin of his wrist where just hours before intricate swirls of script had been drawn across his arm. The curlicues and foreign letters had culminated in a symbol. Despite the lemon juice having soaked in and been wiped away he felt he could still see a faint gleam of it there. He'd watched with interest as the Chindee had written the same symbol onto the base of each of the teammate's wrists too. All four identical.

En'chala.

Family.

Daniel let the dried blossom go, allowing it to fall away. Maybe it was something he had after all.

He gave Sam and Teal'c a quick smile. Then nodded to Jack, "Yes, let's go home."

Jack blinked. It looked like Daniel had finally found the right use for the word after all.

"Home. It sounds good, doesn't it?"

Jack slung his arm around Daniel's shoulders guiding him up the steps. Sam and Teal'c closing ranks on either side. "In fact, best word in the dictionary as far as I'm concerned."

"It does have a ring to it, O'Neill."

"So whad'ya guys say? Anyone up for Chinese?"

The others groaned.

"I hear the Golden Palace has got a great all-you-can-eat special going this week," Jack called as they walked over the threshold of the gate.

And, the Chindee below watched as they entered the blue event horizon.

Four together.

Going as they'd come.

~finis

Author's Note – Daniel's foster mother, Lily, first appeared in the Stargate novella "Fate's Reflection" by Yuma and has been used with permission.