Title: Building Foundations

Author: Kerri (Moonshayde)

Season: Seven. Tag for Fragile Balance

Category: Gen, Friendship

Spoilers: Fragile Balance, slight references to Tin Man, Double Jeopardy, Fallen

Pairing/Character: Jack/Daniel

Summary: Both Jack O'Neill and his young clone begin separate paths of healing through the intervention of a shared friend.

Rating: PG-13

Thanks to my beta Celticcowgirl for this one!

Cheyenne Mountain

Now this is something you just don't see every day.

I stare with amusement at the sight before me. It appears that Daniel Jackson has left his cave for a few minutes. A rarity, at best.

Frowning, I study the younger man as he attempts to juggle a handful of books and paperwork, along with his coffee, as he patiently--or impatiently it seems--waits for the elevator.

Normally, seeing Daniel in disarray wouldn't have caused me to bat an eye. In fact, there is a litany of remarks at the tip of my tongue just waiting to be heard. That's wit and charm Jack O'Neill style.

But something is off. Just not right.

Daniel is suspiciously lacking his uniform.

Curious, I start to walk towards him, clasping my hands behind my back as I whistle softly.

"Where you headed?" I ask, trying to sound casual.

Daniel turns quickly, easily caught off-guard, as he fights his way back from whatever place his mind tends to wander. He doesn't answer right away, which surprises me. Instead, he just gazes at me pensively, pressing his lips together as he works his way out of his thoughts.

"I'm officially off the clock." Daniel finagles his hand between his books and the wall, deftly pushing the elevator button. "So I'm heading out for awhile."

I blink at him. Heading out? Going topside? Exiting the base?

I rub and poke at my ear, wondering if I should get my hearing checked.

"Excuse me?" I ask incredulously.

Daniel forces a smile. A patient smile. "Yes, Jack, I do have a life outside the base."

"Since when?"

"Since now."

"Huh," is all that I can mutter.

Granted, Daniel is still trying to get used to being part of the team again. Hell, he is still adjusting to being human again. All this Ascended and un-Ascended (or is it de-Ascended) stuff is driving me nuts. Not to mention the rate that Daniel has gained his memories back. All of it seems a bit odd.

Hey, but then again, what else is new? I travel to other planets for a living. Sure, that's normal. But "off the clock" has never really been a part of Daniel's rather extensive vocabulary.

Narrowing my eyes, I once again study the man in front of me, this time more warily. "Okay, and just who are you? Where you hiding Doctor Jackson?"

Ah, I just received the signature glare. And here comes the forced smile.

"Funny," Daniel replies.

I shrug. This conversation isn't over yet. I raise my eyebrows. "So?"

"So?"

"Whatcha up to?"

Daniel smiles again, but this time it's one of those deceptive, knowing smiles. Of course, I frown, suddenly more than curious as to what Daniel could have found so fascinating that it would take him away from his work.

The elevator opens and Daniel quickly steps inside. He presses a button, and smiles again.

Devious.

"Hey!" I call, taking a few steps toward the elevator. "You didn't answer me!"

Daniel grins. "Bye, Jack."

With that, the elevator door closes.

Sighing, and feeling a bit slighted, I stare at the elevator. I've just been snubbed. I make a mental note to hang around the elevators a little more often, and then maybe I won't feel so out of the loop.

I used to always be in the loop.

Colorado Springs

"Jon, you nearly forgot this."

Mrs. Peterson jogs up to me, huffing and gulping for air, as she comes to a halt. With a soft smile, she hands me a book.

"You can't complete your assignment if you don't have your text," she scolds lightly.

"And just how is a comparative study between the United States and Rome going to change my life?" I ask wryly.

She chuckles. "You tell me."

I roll my eyes and nod. Now, I remember why I hated high school.

"Thanks, Mrs. P," I mutter as I walk away from the school grounds and head for the sidewalk.

While I start to wonder what ever possessed me to go school in the first place, I stop short, knocked right out of my thoughts when I notice a familiar jeep parked outside the school. Along with the jeep is an all too familiar face.

I would have never thought seeing Daniel Jackson would cause my stomach to turn so violently.

"Hey," Daniel says quietly as he leans against the jeep.

"Hey," I reply dumbly, not exactly knowing how to answer.

Daniel. This is Daniel, for crying out loud. What the hell is he doing here?

Giving him a once over, I figure Daniel is as nervous as I am. With his arms crossed over his crest, his feet shuffling awkwardly, he is practically hiding behind the driver side mirror of the jeep.

What is his problem?

"Why are you here?" I ask, a little too harshly.

Not that I mind seeing him. Ah, he's already doing that pinchy face thing. I never realized just how much I missed that.

"Well, uh…" His voice trails off and he looks like he's having trouble finding the right words. A linguist. Geez.

"I just came by to say hi," he replies at last, forcing a weak smile. "So, hi, Jack."

I exhale and shake my head. "Jon," I say rather flatly. "Everyone keeps calling me Jon."

"Oh." I can tell this bothers him. "Is that what you want to be called?"

Something tells me he is being a little more than polite here. You wear your emotions on your sleeve, Daniel.

"No," I answer. Like it really matters anyway.

"Alright then, Jack, let's get in the car," he says so abruptly and authoritatively I nearly fall over.

I snort. "I take it you never learned that little rule about not accepting rides from strange men?"

He glares at me, but I know him better than that. With a jerk, he's already opened the door and behind the wheel. I have no idea why I even decide to follow.

Like a lost puppy, I muse sadly to myself, suddenly acutely hating my situation.

"I'm not strange," Daniel finally says, a little slow on the uptake. Leaning over, he opens the passenger side door for me, motioning to the seatbelt.

What am I doing?

"It's not my fault the rest of the world can't keep up with me," he states in that matter-of-fact tone of voice before slapping me with a silly grin.

Damn, it's good to see him smile again, I can't help but think, feeling that pain in my stomach return.

"More like the rest of the galaxy," I mutter, causing his grin to broaden. "So, hey, you never told me why I am lucky enough to be graced by your presence today?"

When he doesn't answer, I know something is wrong. That's how I always knew.

Suddenly, I get this overwhelming sense of dread and self-doubt. He's got that pained look on his face, that awkwardness that is a telltale sign that he doesn't want to discuss what's on his mind.

What if the Asgard never fixed this body? What if something was wrong? Maybe I was dying after all…

"What?" I ask, not able to handle the silence. "Loki and Thor up to more games? Joke's on me? Oops, we forgot to fix something else?"

He jerks, his eyes blinking rapidly. "What? No. No…"

"You aren't doing a lot to convince me, Daniel."

He doesn't answer.

Damn him.

Narrowing my eyes, I regard him carefully. He's definitely avoiding my gaze, having become completely absorbed in driving. It almost seems like a concentrated effort as Daniel checks for traffic before pulling from the curb into the street. I watch as the school disappears behind me.

A thought crosses my mind. Does he even remember how to drive?

"I know what you're thinking," he says off-handedly. Or was that defensively? "I do have most of my memory back. I remember how to drive."

"Obviously not," I retort, pointing ahead. "Because you're about ready to blow right through that stop sign."

"Huh? Oh."

Oh is right.

The car comes to a screeching halt and I find we are stopped in the middle of the street. Never mind all the angry parents honking their horns at us.

"That's enough," I mumble, shaking my head as I fiddle with the belt. "Give me the wheel."

"Um…I don't think so," he states, starting to move again. "I can drive. Just a little distracted. No big deal."

"No big deal? Hey, you can take your life in your hands but I'll be damned if you take me with you."

My emotion filled plea does not have the effect I was hoping for. Instead, he just chuckles and continues to drive away.

I decide to keep quiet for a few moments as he revels in his odd sense of humor. That gives me the opportunity to assess my situation.

Having Daniel pop up unexpectedly threw me for a loop. I mean, hadn't we all agreed not to see each other?

No, that was the other Jack O'Neill. The one that stole my life.

But Daniel just doesn't think like that. I can never figure the man out. It seems like every time I am about to solve the great mystery, there's a new twist and I am flung all the way back to the beginning.

Why would Daniel just show up and take me for a drive? I am not Jack. I am Jack, but not the real Jack. Not the one he would give a rat's ass about.

I bow my head, staring at my hands. Hands that are way too small for me along with a body that's too small for me. It's cruel, in a way, to have all these memories and feelings, and be nothing more than an incomplete copy. Sometimes I think it would be better for me to have no memory at all, or at least have the mind of a teenager. I think I would be happier that way.

I thought that I could deal with this. I mean, I have been through a lot over the years. Tough as nails Colonel Jack O'Neill, Special Ops.

But that's all been taken away from me now, and I don't have any of it anymore. Just the memories.

I can feel Daniel's eyes on me. Dammit, they should be on the road.

"Will you quit staring?" I snap, sinking lower into my seat. "While I'm sure I'm extremely fascinating to that scientific portion of your brain, I'd rather you watch where you're going, okay?"

Daniel blinks and nods, turning his head back to the road ahead of us. Great, he's hurt. I can tell. I can always tell.

"Hey, Daniel, I didn't mean—"

"So how are you doing?" he asks, interrupting me. "Are you being treated well?"

I sigh, rocking my head back into the headrest. "I am a pushing fifty but don't look a day over fifteen. Of course, I'm fine. Peachy."

He's quiet for a moment, though I can tell by the tension in his jaw he wants to rip me one.

"I mean your accommodations," he says almost carefully.

"Oh, you mean what does the Air Force do with rejects like me?" I answer sarcastically. "Well, at first they were thinking of having some people take me in, but it'd be a little weird to take care of a man who's mentally older than his 'adoptive' couple. But then again, I am too young to live alone." I know he's stressing. I can see those jaw muscles contracting harder. "So, you know, I got this place and the Air Force always has someone there keeping tabs on me. Beats the hell out of saddling me up with some couple that doesn't know the first thing about me."

"Hmm, yeah," he replies quietly.

Bad, bad thing to say. Stupid thing to say.

"Uh, sorry about that," I manage to utter.

"No, no offense taken," he says, turning the wheel of the jeep. We're on some secluded road now. "I just wanted to know."

Just wanted to know…geez.

"So, how's school? You getting along okay?" he asks, only glancing briefly in my direction.

"School is school, Daniel. I didn't like it the first time and I'm certainly not liking it the second time."

"Well, I mean, this is like a second chance, right?" he asks, turning the wheel slightly as we round a curve in the road. "You can do stuff that you wished you could have done differently, right?"

"Not exactly," I mutter, my thoughts turning to Charlie, to Sara. I couldn't even start over with Sara if I wanted to. Not with this body.

Daniel knows what I am thinking. He's a bright man.

"I didn't mean it like that," he mentions softly, guilt touching his voice. "I guess I didn't realize how hard you were taking this. All of this."

"Yeah." He's bright, but he can be clueless sometimes. "What's with all the questions?"

"I was…just curious to how you were doing, that's all."

Curious. He's curious. Everything fascinates this man. So, what? Am I just some new toy for Daniel to experiment with?

Of course you are, I tell myself dejectedly. Because you're not the real O'Neill.

"I take it you're not this curious with the real thing, huh?"

I shouldn't have said that. But it was out of my mouth before I had the chance to stop it.

"Excuse me?" The car stops, once again, in the middle of the road. He takes a moment to gather his bearings before he pulls off to the side of the road and turns to face me.

He's not happy. He knows what I'm implying.

Hell, might as well go for the jackpot, right?

"This some curious fascination for you? Clones, robots—It never ends with you."

"You-you think this is what's this is all about? That I came to see you because you're a clone?" His tone hedges on preposterous.

"Why else would you come?" I snap angrily. "You got the real one at home. I'm nothing more than a copy. A really messed up copy."

"You still can't get past that?" he asks incredulously. "After all these years, you still are stuck in the same mind set?"

"What?"

"Our robot doubles might not have been flesh and blood but they were real. They had emotions and thoughts and had lives of their own."

"No, they had our lives," I say pointedly.

Well, his life, I think, fuming.

"They still were alive."

"They were robots!"

"The human body is a machine," Daniel states, slipping back into professor-mode. He's going to jump into this whole lecture, I just know it, if I don't stop him.

"I get your point," I say, cutting him off. "But it doesn't change anything."

"Of course it does," he says defensively. "Our doubles had a right to exist as much as we do. As much as you do."

Daniel doesn't see things as black and white. He never has. In fact, we've hardly ever agreed on anything. We still don't see eye to eye. I assume it was the same way with our robot doubles too.

Daniel has this way of balancing me, I guess you could say. Never would have expected it. Never would have thought, back then, that I depended on him so much. Never had thought I would have missed it when he did his disappearing act. Never would have thought I could miss it all over again.

So, old man O'Neill has Daniel. Robot Jack had Robot Daniel. Who did he have?

No one. No one at all.

"I'm sorry," I mumble, gazing out into the woods. "I know you better than that." This is the problem. "I'm just angry."

The car starts again and we're moving, heading down the road and turning onto another one. Where is he taking me?

"I know you have some issues," Daniel tells me. "And I am not going to make light of them. I just thought…"

He doesn't continue for some reason. When I glance over at him, I am surprised to find he seems sad, a bit lost, kinda like when we'd found him on Vis Uban, memory free.

Before I can find something coherent to say, we stop, pulling up to a small pond. It's just a short walk from the side of the road, down a slope, with a nice little area to sit over the water.

I lean forward, frowning, still not quite understanding this little field trip of his. Maybe Daniel's gone psycho and he's about to dump me in the lake.

Watching too much TV, Jack? What else can I do? My life has been taken from me.

"Are you planning on staying in the car all afternoon, Jack?" Daniel asks sarcastically.

It's then I realize he's already out of the car and unpacked.

Unpacked? What the hell?

As I exit the jeep, I stare disbelieving at him, trying to process the sights I am actually seeing.

There stands Daniel, two fishing poles in hand, along with a tackle box and some other box.

Fishing? Daniel is taking me fishing?

Thoughts of a deranged Daniel return…

"Daniel, those are fishing poles."

Daniel frowns, looks at the poles like he's never seen them before, and gapes at them. "They are?"

I glare at him, shoving my hands in my pockets. Idiot. He's been hanging around with me too long.

That ache in the pit of my stomach returns. Damn.

"You always wanted to take me fishing," Daniel says, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "I figured, why not?"

"Colonel Jack O'Neill wanted to take you fishing. Old Colonel Jack O'Neill," I say, correcting him.

Daniel narrows his eyes and gives me this glare at tells me to shut up now. He's not going to hear it anyway.

"Fine," I say, hating that I am such a pushover when it comes to him. "Fishing it is."

I walk over to him, take the fishing poles, and tackle box, before heading down to the edge of the pond. While I start to check the lines and examine the kind of bait Daniel decided to choose, I notice that he's sifting through the other box, absently walking towards the pond as his brow furrows into a knot. At this rate, he'll walk right into the water without realizing it.

As he comes closer to me, I reach up and grab the box, causing him to snap out of his thoughts. He looks down at me, then the poles, before settling down to sit beside me.

"Whatcha bring?" I shake the box, noting the chips, a couple of sandwiches, some soda, and chocolate. Lots of chocolate…I frown, pushing the candy aside. "What? No beer?"

"Nope," he says, grinning. "Not for you."

"Come on!" I put the box down and glare at him. "You can't fish without beer!"

"Is that in the manual?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.

"Smartass."

"I brought some of your favorite foods," he comments, ignoring the insult.

"I noticed that." I did. I hated to admit that it was touching. The whole thing in fact.

I sigh, suddenly hating the other O'Neill even more. I've started to hate the Asgard, too. Couldn't they have at least made me an adult body? I know all the risks and the security issues, but I'm Jack O'Neill. No one would know. I could always lie and say that me and O'Neill were twins. I could have worked on the base, or something. I would have stayed out of his way.

I am not stupid, I know. That couldn't work. Moving on was the best option. Going back to school made sense. Becoming a different Jack O'Neill was my path. A second chance, like Daniel said. Or more like a new start. It's hard though when you have all the memories of a lifetime that you no longer can claim.

"Am-am I bothering you by being here?" Daniel asks cautiously, toying with the top of the tackle box.

What am I going to say? No? The truth is I don't want him to leave. I've never wanted him to leave. No matter how much it hurts seeing him here. No matter how much it stings knowing that he's really the friend of the other Jack O'Neill, and not me. It'll never be the same between us. Not anymore. But right now, he's the only link I have left to my old life.

"No," I say quietly. "Just stick around. It's not like it's killing me or anything."

Daniel forces a smile, but he knows what I am trying to say. I think he appreciates it too.

"How are Carter and Teal'c?" I finally ask.

"Good. They're good. SG-5 just brought back some…thing that Sam's been working on. And Teal'c has been a bit moody. We're not really sure why. He spends most of his time in the gym."

Well, there you go. I should be there, trying to figure out what's on T's mind. But I'm not. He's there instead.

"What about him?" I manage to say, trying to keep the resentment out of my voice.

"Oh, you mean Jack?" Daniel looks out over the water, taking a moment to think. His hesitation concerns me, and I'm starting to wonder what other problems my double could be causing. "He's doing fine."

Fine. I hate that word. It never means what it's supposed to mean. Which means, of course, things aren't fine.

I would know.

Things weren't fine when I was copied, and it had only been a couple of weeks, so why would things be fine now? No, I have been harboring some insecurity, some anger, and some resentment, especially towards Daniel. It's not his fault, or anything. The man lost his memory. But I guess I have been mad that he up and died on me. That he didn't even seem to want to live. Then he goes and becomes some glowy thing that never would drop by to just say hi. The worst part is the guilt though. Daniel gave up his immortality to help the Abydonians, and to help us. He broke his precious rules because I asked him. Just like that. He'd suffered a great loss for it, and now he's trying to regroup.

But I have my own weaknesses and I know I've started to grow distant. I don't want him to up and leave again. But I'm giving him reason to do so, right?

"You should be fishing with Jack," I tell him, opening a bag of chips.

He arches an eyebrow and regards me lightly. "I thought I was?"

"Don't give me that," I mumble while munching on some chips. "You know what I mean. With the real Jack."

"I am," he says simply.

He's just not going to let me win.

"Which begs the question," I start, choosing my words cautiously, "why aren't you fishing with the other Jack? I'm sure he'd love this."

Daniel's smile fades, and in that instant, I know. That prick is acting exactly like I knew he'd be. He's too much of a coward to take the first step. The idiot.

This brings up a whole new set of problems for me, though. I know why O'Neill is acting the way he is, but I don't know why Daniel is. We've got the same memories after all. So why didn't Daniel just go up to the other Jack like he did to me? Does he think less of me?

"Is this a sympathy visit?" I ask suddenly, feeling the sadness start to overwhelm me.

Daniel just stares, blinking at me before shaking his head quickly. "No. No, it's not like at all."

"Then what is it?" I can't help but be angry. It's not like my life is going the way I want it to right now. "Am I some sort of replacement? Too scared to go after the real thing so you come after me instead?"

Daniel glares at me, his cheeks on fire. He's fuming, I can tell. Usually, he would start yelling at me, gesticulating so fast his mouth couldn't keep up. Not this time.

He is treating me different, I realize angrily.

"Why did you bother to come here anyway?" I shout.

"Look, I know what it's like to lose everything. I know what it is like to have lost family and friends. I have lost my life over and over again." His blue eyes burned with an intensity that I forgot Daniel could possess. "No one should have to go through that alone. No one."

I'm silent. I can't respond to that.

His intentions are pure. He only came down here out of the goodness of his heart. Damn.

I know what loss is, too. I've lost Charlie. I've lost Sara. I've lost him. Now, I've lost my job and my friends. I've lost so much.

But Daniel isn't any different in that regard. He's lost his parents. He's lost Nick. He's lost his wife. He's lost his life. He's lost his memories.

He has most of his memories back now. And maybe I haven't really lost my friends.

I look down, grabbing one of the fishing poles, and push the lunch box out of my way as I sit right beside him. I place the fishing pole in his hands, and smile.

"Ever been fishing?" I ask him, keeping my genuine smile steady.

"No," he admits, his cheeks still pink from his outburst.

"It's easy. You just cast your line and wait for a bite. Then you reel them in. Carefully."

He nods, looking at the fishing pole like it's some ancient artifact. Wonderful.

We settle down, and sit together, not talking for a while, just munching on our junk. It's peaceful, I muse to myself, and I wonder why I hadn't ever forced Daniel to go fishing before. I'm actually impressed that Daniel managed to pick out some decent bait.

"So," I ask him, leaning back into a smooth rock, "where'd you get the bait?"

He chuckles and I know a story is coming. "Some bait and tackle shop in town. I honestly didn't know what I was doing, but the man there was very helpful."

"Mr. Durfee?" I am pretty sure I know who he's talking about.

"Yeah. I think so. But don't worry. I went in disguise."

I turn my head, suddenly amused, and stare at him. "Oh? Do tell."

"Better than that. I'll show you." Daniel wedges the pole between his legs, and reaches for his glasses, slipping them off his nose. He exhales, pausing for only a moment before he turns to face me.

Oh, it's laughable. I can't help but chuckle as I watch him make this face that teeters between ridiculous and sultry.

"That'll do it for sure," I say, shaking my head.

"That's what I'm thinking," he says with a grin.

"Your probably scared the hell out of old Mr. Durfee."

"Either that, or he thinks I have an intense passion for fishing," Daniel joked, patting me on the arm.

I smile, but resist the urge to pat him back. This is still all a bit weird. But I wouldn't change it. I wouldn't give away this opportunity, this surprise that has made me the happiest I'd been in two weeks.

There is something else here now, though. Just sitting here, with Daniel, knowing that he is here for me, just for me, and no other reason helps lift a burden off my shoulders. I don't feel as angry. I don't feel so alone anymore. I even start to feel a little sorry.

For the other me.

"Hey," I say softly, wondering if I should even try this. My own happiness is at stake here. But so is my own happiness, on the other end.

"What?" he asks, frowning slightly, putting his glasses back on his face and absently reaching for another candy bar.

"Are you ever going to talk to the other one? Jack, I mean." I pause noting that he looks uncomfortable. Maybe I am easier to talk to because I am suddenly smaller than Daniel. Or maybe because I am off to a new start. "You really should talk to him. I'm being serious here."

"I know. I will. Soon. Just-just not yet," he says, his voice painfully hollow.

He's feeling it as much as I am. God, I'm an idiot.

"Remember, Daniel, I'm just like him. I know exactly what he's been feeling and doing. If you can talk to me, you can talk to him."

It feels great having that superiority over the other Jack, even if it's for a fleeting moment.

"I know. I know this," he says in a way that leads me to believe he does, but just can't feel it. "And you're not some substitute, just so we're clear. It just doesn't seem fair what's been done to you. We shouldn't just turn our back on you." He pauses, and regards me cautiously. "Unless that is what you want, of course."

Yes and no, I want to say. It's painful to see him here, knowing that I can't interact with him in the same way the other Jack can. But I am glad he is here. I want him here.

I grin, snatching the candy bar from his hand.

"I'll take that as this is okay," he comments, reaching over for his candy bar.

I hold it above my head. "Oh yeah. But you should have brought more food. I'm a growing boy."

He snickers. "Fine. Next time, I'll be sure to bring a truck load of food."

I gape at him, not meaning to look so shocked. Did he just say next time?

"Next time?" I ask.

"Sure," he says, the grin never leaving him. "Same time next month. Good enough for you?"

Better than good enough. I thought this was a one-time deal.

"Fishing? You're going to actually come fishing again?" I shake my head. "You should be doing this with the other Jack."

"Eventually," Daniel concedes. "I'll make it up to him in a different way. But for now, this will be our thing."

I smile, feeling the tears in my eyes. I brush them away quickly, before he has the chance to notice.

Of course, he notices everything.

"It's my stupid teenage hormones," I say to him. "Don't think it's anything special."

"Of course not," he says with that knowing smile. "It's just the hormones."

"Right, the—"

"Hormones," we say together.

I grin again, and punch him in the arm. I think I can do this.

Our ride back is much better (and safer) than the ride to the pond. Daniel talks a mile a minute, rattling off about this and that, and how he is looking for a house and that Teal'c is going to help him move in. He even mentions there will be a party, care of Jack, and that I am invited to come, if I feel up to it. I decline for obvious reasons, but it's the thought that counts. And he promises to save me some food.

In turn, I tell him about school, and my homework, and how I hate it and long to fly again. We completely avoid the topic of girls and how weird it would be for me to start dating again, especially having the mind of a forty-something year old man. Talk about creepy.

As we pull up to my apartment, or rather the place I stay at under the watchful eye of the military, I start to think about the day and how just Daniel's unexpected act of taking me fishing has really changed my perspective on life.

I know things will never ever be the same between Daniel and me. He's old enough to be my father, but I have more life experience than he does. It's definitely weird, and I really miss the way we used to be.

At least the other me has a chance to rebuild their friendship in a similar way.

For me, well, it's going to be different now and I have to accept that. And I will. It will take me some time, but I know Daniel is there for me.

In fact, he always has been. From helping me break through my suicidal tendencies, to helping me with the Ancients' language that was downloaded into my brain, to my torture session with Ba'al, he's always been there to support me. Even when he's not there, he's still there.

"So," he says, putting the vehicle in park, "we're here."

I laugh. Everything out of Daniel's mouth sounds so dramatic.

"Yeah."

"You got everything you need?" he asks, checking the back of his jeep.

"Looks that way," I say, starting to open the passenger door.

"Hey, wait!" he shouts. Damn, I think, watching him pick up my history book. "You almost forgot this," he says.

"I was trying to," I say wryly.

He just shakes his head. "Now, what's so bad about Ancient Rome?" He starts flipping through the pages of the book.

"Well, for one, it's boring. I have to write a paper on comparing the US and Rome, or something."

"Sounds interesting."

"Sounds boring." I pause, considering a new thought. "If you're so interested, why don't you write it?"

He chuckles and hands me the book. "I'm not doing your homework," he informs me.

"Aw, come on. It's just one paper."

"I said I'm not doing your homework." He motions to the book. "Try it. You might like it."

"Trying to make me into your apprentice?" I joke.

"You never know," he says chuckling. "Maybe years from now, you'll put me to shame."

That would be the day. But it's amusing to think about.

"I should get going though," Daniel says solemnly. "I've got to head back to the base."

"You work too much."

"I spent my afternoon fishing."

"It was a good day."

"It was," he says warmly. "But we didn't catch anything."

"That's not the point to fishing. It's an art, Daniel," I emphasize. "It's an art."

He's not buying it.

I sigh, shaking my head as I exit the vehicle. He tosses me the book.

When I shut the door, he leans over towards me, across the passenger seat, like I wouldn't hear him if he stayed still or something.

"You call me if you need anything, alright?"

"Sure, but I'll be fine," I say. It's good to know the option is open.

"Okay. And I'll see you in a few weeks."

I can't wait. "Sure thing," I say, unable to hide my smile.

He grins back, waving, before his car pulls away from the curb. I watch him go, sighing once again.

Yeah, this is hard. It will be hard for a while. But I'm a survivor and I'll make it through. I always have.

And I won't be alone.

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Cheyenne Mountain

Dull, boring, dull. That was my afternoon. I had a meeting with Hammond, I pissed off Carter until she kicked me out of her lab, and I had some lunch with Teal'c. Now, I am heading back home, to my good friends the couch and beer.

First, I decide to take a peek at Daniel's office, though. Surely, he must be back by now. A guy like Daniel can't resist the pull of the Stargate. Nor can he resist my charm.

You can imagine my surprise when I reach Daniel's office and find it dark and empty. It reminds me of a cemetery, somewhat solemn like when Daniel passed away. Artifacts are everywhere, reeking an old musty smell. But there is no life or fresh blood in this place.

His office has been empty all afternoon.

Guess things just aren't the same anymore.

I used to always come by every night and attempt to pry Daniel away from his work.

"I must be missing something because I have no idea what you're so fascinated with."

Daniel's voice causes me to jump. I spin around, finding him watching me expectantly, holding a couple of books in one hand, and a cup of coffee in the other. He takes a moment to sip the coffee, eyeing me patiently over the rim of his glasses.

"I was staring?" I ask.

He grins and nods, squeezing between the doorway and myself. With a sigh, he places the books on his desk and finishes his coffee, tossing the cup in the barrel.

"You got to keep better hours," I tell him, shaking my head. "You take the afternoon off and you come here to work at night. You should be having fun or something."

"I'm having fun," is his reply.

I eye him suspiciously. He smells like dirt.

"So just where did you go today?" I ask him, shoving my hands in my pockets.

"Out," he replies flatly.

"Ah, I love it when you elaborate like that."

He arches his eyebrows at me. Usually, I would expect some sort of glare, but he doesn't bother this time. In fact, he looks pretty content.

What had he done this afternoon?

"Actually," he begins, checking his desk—for what I don't know—before turning to gaze at me. "I didn't come back to work. I just came by to pick up a few things and then I am heading out again."

"Ah," I say dumbly. I am taken aback for the second time today. Daniel going out again? What's going on? Have things gotten so weird between us that we can't stand to be near each other anymore? We used to hang out. In fact, all four of us did.

Okay, yeah, so we're part of a team. We work together. In fact, off-world we're inseparable. But on Earth? On base? It seems like we're in two separate worlds. Daniel and I always have different points of view on the world. We're like night and day. But that never seemed to matter.

I know I'm still a little angry with him dying on me. Resentful even. And I know that it's going to take him some time to adjust to being back. He was gone for a long time. But I know he's always been there for me. I'm happier that he's back than angry at him.

But there's just something…

I bring myself out of my thoughts long enough to see that Daniel's moved away from his desk and is heading for the door.

This would be a great time to say something, I tell myself. Go ahead. Break the ice.

"Have a good night," I tell him, lacking my normal exuberance.

"Yeah," he replies. Is he disappointed? "You too, Jack."

"Yeah, thanks."

I want to kick myself. I can only stare at him, watching him nod sadly, somewhat distractedly, as his hand clasps the doorway.

I turn away, wondering what the hell is wrong with me, and realize maybe there is no going back. Maybe this friendship thing we had going is really over now.

I notice he is still at the door, his head bowed as if he is concentrating deeply. Then, he inhales sharply, and strums the doorway before twisting around to face me.

"Do you want to go to a hockey game tonight?' he rattles off quickly.

I freeze, wondering if I heard right. "What?" I ask dumbly, feeling stunned now for the third time today.

He's nervous, and his gesturing, breathing in and out like he usually does before he goes nuts.

"I have two tickets to a hockey game tonight and I thought you might want to go."

So, I had heard right the first time. Imagine that.

"You hate hockey," I remind him. Like he doesn't already know.

"I know," he says.

"My favorite teams are playing tonight," I add.

"I know," he says again.

I am not letting this go. "The game is sold out."

"I know," he says yet again.

I feel like pulling my hair out. At once, I'm touched in a very-secure-about-my-masculinity way but I'm also wondering how he managed to get tickets.

I know he knows me well. It's like he can read my mind.

"I bought them earlier. Just in case," he informs me quietly.

Just in case. Damn, he's been waiting and waiting. Just in case. How long was he planning on waiting?

How long was I planning to be stubborn?

I glance down at my watch. We have enough time to make it.

"We can grab something to eat on the way," I tell him, coming to meet him at the doorway.

"So, it's a yes then?"

What? Don't play dumb. But I haven't really been very receptive to anything myself, have I? What if he's been reaching out since he got back and I've ignored him?

I hope not, I think to myself, walking with him to the elevators. I knew this whole friendship thing would take time, and it will still take time. I'm sure we've got many hurdles before us. But if neither one of us made the first move, where would we be a year from now?

It's going to take time, I tell myself. Not an overnight fix.

Thankfully, one of us decided to be courageous enough to take the first step.

"Of course it's a yes," I finally say, jamming my finger into the elevator button. "'Fraid you won't have a chance to change, though. You do know you smell like dirt and leaves."

"I do?" He sniffs at his shirtsleeve.

I roll my eyes, but chuckle. It's going to be an interesting night.

"Well, it will have to do," he admits. I have visions of him grabbing my car air freshener and rubbing it over his shirt.

"We could always buy you a T-shirt down at the center," I tease him. "Make you into a real hockey fan."

Surprisingly, he just shrugs, smiling, as he waits by my side. "Why not?"

I chuckle, and wrap my arm around his shoulder, taking a minute to tousle his hair.

Sure, why the hell not?

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