Author's Note: This is inspired by the end of the BtVS episode, "Out of Sight, Out of Mind" but it isn't a crossover and is definitely Stargate SG-1. Small vignettes of the past, they will get longer in time. But I probably won't explain much of what they mean other than to say they are pieces to the puzzle. Goes with both movie and show, though this Jack may be more like movie Jack. I haven't quite got a handle on the series' Jack attitude. And there are some major differences. Let me know what you think. 656-scene change.

Alternate Universe.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything; barely even own the plotline since it was inspired by something I saw on another show.

1973.

Sitting under a large tree, an ageless student rested, curled around a large book. To the left side, an unfinished cup of cocoa waited patiently for the drinker to stir and remember it. On the other side-the far side of the campus, a dark car rolled to a stop.

The window hissed as it unrolled in the cool air and two gentlemen looked out, studying the students that passed by and mingled near. "That one."

"Are you sure? The student seems rather passive for our needs."

"I am," he replied, somewhat testily. "Look at the position of the head. That student is aware of our observations."

Keen, hawkish eyes flicked towards them and an almost contemptuous sneer crossed the lips. With a barely discernable gesture, the car started driving away, only to stop half an hour later at the city limits. The occupants were stunned but unharmed.

"Any questions?" the calm voice covered the shock almost completely. "Make no mistake, that student is our new Jonathon O'Neill."

The student turned back to the book, dismissing the men and the car from mind easily. But knew what was about to be asked and nodded, bowing to the inevitable change. This life would end and a new one would begin. A thin brow arched, thinking over the name whispered on the breeze. "Jonathon? Call me Jack."

1985.

Jack O'Neill stepped into the cool night air, breathing in Colorado's fresh pine air. Any minute, Sara would show up and give him a ride home. Hopefully. Since she had started some remedial medical courses, she had a tendency to forget things. Also, she was dating Charlie Kawalsky and that had a tendency to blind her mind to anything the classes had forgotten to erase.

"Hey, old buddy. You going to stand there all day? Or do you want a lift home?" she teased, pulling up beside him.

"Hey, when are you going to get a decent car? I know you can afford one." Tossing the bag into the back, Jack climbed into the front seat.

"When you get a life," she retorted. "Glad to be back on our soil?"

"You have no idea," he waited a few more minutes but the car remained idle. Giving in with a sigh, his hand reached for the seat belt.

"You know the rules, flyboy, no belt, no movement." Sara smirked, pulling out once she'd heard the click as it slid into place.

"How was your date with Kawalsky?"

She sighed, "it was a bust. As usual. We were called away before we even got seated."

"Anything I should be prepared for?"

Her head shook, "no. It was just the bigs bringing in some round disc for storage at the base. They needed brains and brawn-not just brawn."

"Cute, Sara, real cute," he groused. "I know it won't be intimate but why don't you two come over for dinner to celebrate my return? I promised, nothing take-out. It'll be home cooked."

It didn't take her more than a second to decide. "I'll call Charlie and ask. Any incentive for him?"

"Nothing fancy, he can bring his own beer." They shared a grin. Charlie's taste in beverages was legendary-and lousy. Jack himself wasn't much of a drinker. To much opportunity to lose control over himself and the situation. Besides, alcohol had a tendency to slow his reflexes down, a dangerous thing for a man who was both Special Operations and Search and Rescue.

"That'll have to do. Honestly, Jack, you need to get more from life than this." Sara semi-scolded him as she gestured to the bleak looking apartment building. "You really need more than work to fill you up."

Jack opened the door and grabbed his bag, feeling no offense at her words. This was an old argument between them. It only showed how much she cared for him, "I do. I have friends and my cabin."

"One day those things will no longer be enough for you."

With an enigmatic smile, Jack closed the door and leaned into the window. "You'd be surprised by how little I really need, Sara. Call me when you get home and thanks."

"No problem, Jack." Waving jauntily at him, she drove off.

Entering the apartment, he made a quick search and was satisfied that all was as he'd left it. Picking up the stack of mail, he sorted through it idly. It looked as though tomorrow would be his day to work on bills, he mused, heading down the hall for a quick shower. After that, he went into the kitchen, intent on finding food.

Pulling out a skillet, he fried some bacon and scrambled a few eggs. As he walked into the main room, he pressed the message button on the phone, knowing Sara wouldn't be calling him for a few more minutes. Besides, she'd want to call 'Charlie' first, so he wasn't going to worry over much about missing her call.

"W, its D. Call me. Its about P and F."

Hearing that voice caused Jack to choke. Thousands of memories swamped him and he barely managed to pull them in and bring his mind back to the present. D. Now that was a name-and a person-he hadn't thought of in years. Deciding to wait until after Sara called, he wrote the number down and erased the messages.

"Jack, I'm home. Charlie thinks it's a great idea. See you around 7. And Jack? Don't make pancakes like last time. I expect a real meal." Before he picked up, he heard the dial tone.

For a second, he considered calling and harassing her for the shortness of the call. But then reconsidered his actions, common sense taking over. Sara did not leave short, almost terse messages unless she wasn't alone. The last thing he wanted to do was interrupt any moment she and Kawalsky might find to be alone.

Instead, he called D. "I got your message. And I go by Jack now, remember?"

"It's about time you called, I left that message a month ago. Where were you?"

"Oh, a few places. Doing any number of things that don't concern you in any way," Jack's answer was typically evasive. "What's wrong?"

D accepted the reply with grace, they'd known each other way to long to bother with what others considered polite behavior. "W, I mean, Jack, I hate to ask but could you come up for a while? Its important."

"I can't for at least 2 days. Tomorrow's my debriefing and physical. If I'm cleared, I'll have a few days of downtime." He replied, "no earlier than that, I'm afraid."

There was a long pause before he heard a deep, long drawn out sigh. "That'll have to be enough. Just don't pull any of your usual shenanigans with the doctors. I need you here, Jack."

It was Jack's turn to sigh before conceding. D wouldn't have called if it was not important. He never did. After exchanging a few more words, they said good-bye. Jack made a list of things he'd need for the next two days. Shopping was in order.

656

As he, Kawalsky, and Sara shared a meal, they kept the talk on neutral subjects, not willing to jinx the moment. It was also what Jack needed to restore perspective on an otherwise pointless and painful day. The briefing had gone well, considering what they had been talking about, while his medical exam was relatively painless. He was clear for the next seven days, but needed to remain in close contact with the phone.

Knowing that he would be going up North, he made sure to clear it with his superiors first. They had given him a very reluctant leave-but he needed to tell them his travel arrangements so that they knew where he would be at all times if they had to recall him. As it was, he very reluctantly gave them D's number.

"What do you plan to do with your vacation?" Kawalsky asked during a lull in the conversation.

"Visit some old friends," he replied, a mischievous twinkle in his brown eyes.

"You have others? I'm hurt," he placed a hand over his heart as though to stem the pain.

Jack laughed and rose, "why don't you put something on while I clean up and bring out some dessert."

"Mmmm...I could get used to having a Jack O'Neill as my personal servant," she teased, "how much do you charge?"

"More than you can afford on a military pay check," he grinned.

Since they would all be having an early morning, they watched an hour-long program before calling it a night. Jack double-checked his place before packing a small bag and going to bed.

In the morning, he took a taxi to the airport, having managed to get a flight out to Washington once he'd gotten the all-clear signal. One of the perks of being in the higher up regs of the military was the ability to arrange for last minute transportation anywhere in the world. And he knew this from personal experience having had to do it many times in the past.

"D! Its good to see you," Jack enthusiastically hugged his old friend.

"I just wish the circumstances could be better, Jack." The unfamiliar name still stuck on his tongue, even though seeing this new version of his friend made it easier for him. "That all you've got?"

"Of course. Don't need much, you know that," he chided.

There was a tiny smile to acknowledge the words, "you're right."

"I learned from the best." They were silent until they reached the house and were seated in the library, Jack then turned the conversation towards business. "What is this about P and F?"

"They, and we, are in danger."

Quirking an eyebrow, Jack asked a silent question.

His friend nodded, "more than that. It's the summoning."

Jack whistled, this was so beyond bad, it fell into the category of sheer madness. "And what? Does he think he won't be opposed?"

"He does. That's why I got in touch with you."

"D, don't tell me he's going to force our vows! It isn't time."

"I know," his voice was reproachful.

"Have you called the others?"

"I received no reply," he sighed. "That's why I was so anxious to get you up here."

"Okay, I'll find P, you get F. She always responded better to you," he was sly.

His friend ignored that. "What'll we do if he's got them?"

"Get them back. Or kill them," it was a cold answer.

D nodded, "that's what I like about you. There's no room for gray areas."

"There can't be if I want to live," he answered grimly.

656

"Thanks for everything, Jack." D said as they drove to the airport. "Wish you could stay longer. This promises to be one brilliant celebration."

"I can't, D. But thanks for thinking of me."

"I always think of you." He watched him head up the ramp, "and Jack? Its Adam now." With a laugh at the flummoxed expression on Jack's face, he left.

Flying home, Jack sighed. One of these days, he was going to get his own plane. Relying on the availability of others bothered him. It would also go a long way towards easing his fear of heights.

"Ladies and gentlemen, due to a slight problem with the engines, we are going to land soon. This will only put us an hour behind schedule. We thank you for your patience."

Swallowing down a burst of irritation, Jack settled in to wait. What he knew was really troublesome is that the General was expecting him tomorrow morning. And this delay promised to make this an overnight stay. He would have to call and let them know what was occurring. Hopefully, they didn't expect him to be able to control the weather. Although, he thought with a grimace, they certainly expected him to be quite the comeback kid.

Closing his eyes, he started to work on his breathing exercises. In his mind, a picture formed of a cabin by the lake. Fish gleamed in the early morning light as they danced around a baited hook. Off in the distance, there was a slight movement as squirrels jumped from tree to tree and birds twirled in the air.

Slowly, he relaxed into the scene, feeling the peace enter his body and sooth his mind-until a rather strong force jolted his arm and startled him.

A fierce scowl crossed his face and he turned the full force of it onto the perpetrator-who was utterly oblivious to it. Under other circumstances, this would've angered Jack but there was something about the kid that stopped him. Some faint sense of…an indefinable memory.

"Where is it? Where did I drop it? It was right here a minute ago, I think," the young man mumbled, his books and papers jostling every which way.

Clearing his throat, Jack waited for the young man to turn to him. His seatmate continued to search through his items fruitlessly. "May I help you?" he finally asked, avoiding another elbow.

The youth flushed as he realized he'd almost hit him. "No, that's all right. I'm sure I'll find it in a moment. Sorry to bother you." He went back to his books, trying to prevent them from falling on the floor even as he searched through them.

Jack waved the words aside, "no bother at all. What are you looking for?" He glanced around, trying to see beyond the chaos of books and papers.

The student, at least that's what Jack assumed him to be because he appeared to be too young for a professor, studied the face before him for a while, then shrugged in resignation. There was something about the soldier, the student realized that his seatmate couldn't be anything but military, that said he wouldn't leave him alone until he knew what was wrong.

And there was something in those eyes that he wanted to trust. "I'm looking for my thesis."

"Is it in a folder or an envelope?" Jack prodded, thinking he'd spotted it lurking between their chairs.

"Folder."

Nodding, he fished it out. "This it?" he passed it over.

"Yeah, it would," he stared at it for a moment, before taking it. He sat there, berating himself for missing it by his side.

"Don't worry about it, happens to me all the time." Quite true, though he had been getting better at caring for himself as he started to rise up in the ranks. According to many, if the commanding officer's personal quarters were a mess, it would do little to inspire the confidence of those he was leading. Outer cleanliness a supposed sign of inner organization-or so he'd been told. Repeatedly.

He stared at Jack skeptically.

"Honest. This is just a look I adopt, it makes everyone believe that I know what I'm doing. Ask anyone who really knows me, they're all afraid to go to my house, fearing that they'll never get out again." Jack made the sign of crossing his heart, an innocent expression on his face.

Though he still didn't believe him, his lips twitched into a small smile.

"Why do you have all those books anyway?" Jack was curious, the flight wasn't long enough to justify so much stuff.

"I wanted to be prepared," his answer was short.

"For what?"

He gave in again, realizing that he wasn't going to give up. "Any questions that may be asked of me relating to my paper. This is the first time any of my papers have gone before a counsel of professors. I have to defend my position and be able to counter any of their arguments."

Jack smiled sympathetically, just listening to him speak. He'd gone through much the same thing every time he had to go in for an evaluation. One always had to be prepared to defend one's position if it ever came up-which it usually did when it came to those who wanted to rise in the ranks. Sometimes, he wished he had just stayed an unmarked soldier.

But he'd gotten bored and decided that he needed to stretch his wings a bit.

As they stood up to depart, he rested his hand on the shoulder and squeezed, ignoring the way the younger man tensed. "Just remember one thing and you'll be fine. In any battle, no matter the field, you have two voices of counsel. One of fear and the other of wisdom. Never take counsel from fear."

One more squeeze and he disappeared into the crowd, leaving behind one confused scholar.

Stepping out into the stale building, Jack shook his head. He had never indulged in conversation with strangers. Even if the young man seemed somewhat known to him, why did he speak so freely with him? "I must be crazy offering advice to some kid I have nothing in common with," he muttered before resolving to put the experience from his mind.

The 'kid' got off the plane, curious about the soldier. Widely traveled, he could tell that talking to strangers wasn't something he normally did. Yet, he had not only talked to him, he reached out to him in friendship. He found it curious.

His eyes scanned the crowd, looking for the tall, brown haired man. Catching a glimpse of him entering the commissary, he jogged to catch him. "Uhm, excuse me?" he breathlessly asked, coming to stand beside him.

"Yes?" he replied, shocked to see him. "Would you like to join me for a cup of coffee?"

"Sure," he accepted, mind perking up at the thought of coffee-even barely tolerable coffee.

In a strangely companionable silence, they waited in line and then sat at one of the booths with their drinks. "Not to seem like I don't appreciate the company because I do but was there something you wanted?" he asked after a while.

Flushing, he studied the nearly empty Styrofoam cup. "Not really...I guess I just wanted to say thanks. You know, for the help."

"No problem," he began but was interrupted when an officer tapped him on the shoulder. He looked up into the face of a redhead, "yes?"

"Jack O'Neill?" At the affirmative nod, she placed a phone in front of him. "For you, press one."

"Thanks," picking up the receiver, he barked a hello.

"O'Neill? Return to base. A helicopter is waiting for you," it was brisk and ended with a sharp click.

For a moment, Jack stared at the phone, then rose with a shrug. "Duty calls. I wish you luck on your test." With a cheery wave, he was gone.

Jack O'Neill, the student mused, I do hope we met again. With a strange sense of prescience, he knew that they would meet again. He just hoped that when it happened, it would be under more auspicious circumstances.

1995.

"No, this is all wrong. What did you do? Translate it in the dark?" The exasperated voice asked, erasing the work and quickly rewriting it. "Or did you use "The ABC's of Translating Ancient Egyptian for Dummies"? No, wait, this reeks of that supposed Egyptologist expert Budge."

Colonel O'Neill paused, surprised by the youthful, disgusted voice. He was even more startled when he laid eyes on the speaker, who was currently ripping apart forty years of work furiously.

This was the famed Dr. Jackson that Professor Langford had wanted so desperately? He was just a kid.

Then again, he thought, examining the newer work, what this doctor was doing made a little more sense than what the others had written. Still, could they trust this kid? "Excuse me?" his authoritative voice cut through the din of the angry voices. "May be we should allow Dr. Jackson to explain his reasons for the change? His record shows that he has spent most, if not all, of his life in pursuit of Ancient Egypt."

He was unprepared for the gratitude in the blue eyes that turned towards him. Nor the unexpected feeling of recognition that struck him.

Dr. Daniel Jackson nodded at him briskly, shoving aside his own feelings of recollection for the moment. "Thank you, Colonel O'Neill. As you suspected, I do have reasons for the changes and will explain once I've finished."

Jack tuned out the lecture almost as soon as it started. What the doctor was saying was more for those in the room than the colonel. He was puzzled as to why this man was so familiar to him. They would not have traveled in the same social circles. Dr. Jackson's records showed that this man was more intelligent than he could ever hope to be.

If he were any other man, the thought of working with such an obvious genius would bother and frighten him. Luckily, he was no ordinary man and felt no such thing. Resolutely, he forced himself to listen and make a judgment based on what he heard and was produced, than what he saw.

Because all he was currently seeing could be summed up with one word-geek.

"So, do you think you can translate the rest of the language?" General West asked, breaking into the lecture firmly.

"Rest?" Daniel turned to Catherine, baffled.

She smiled, "I was going to show you but you saw that and retranslated it. Come with me, Daniel."

"Just one moment, Professor Langford," Jack stepped in front of them, blocking the exit. "Did you explain to Dr. Jackson that anything he sees is confidential? He is not allowed to talk about this project with anyone other than those who have been given clearance."

She waved him off, irritably. "Of course I did. Do you think me a fool, Colonel?"

He backed off at the ice in her voice, "my apologies." Seems I better add one more name to the list of women I can't intimidate to save my life.

656

Jack sat, sipping hot cider and studying the paperwork before him. It seemed to him that they were dealing with a lost cause, a lose/lose situation. The kind of thing he seemed to attract lately. And was expected to make it prosper or blow it up. Rolling the cider over his tongue, he thought about who he'd like to serve this mission with.

There were only a handful he'd work with who'd be willing to give everything they had to the cause-no matter the cost. And he knew that the cost would be extremely high. If they got that thing to work, what lay on the other side could possibly spell their death. And if it didn't, they might not be able to get back home. Ferretti, Kawalsky, Sara, and Fraiser came to mind instantly.

"I hoped it was you when I heard your name mentioned," a hesitant voice spoke from above and to his right. Jack glanced up, an eyebrow raised in question. Daniel's own face bore a sheepish one, "I suppose it was to much to hope that you would recognize me."

Jack gestured to the empty chair, shoving all his papers into the folder. "While I can't say that I recognize you, I won't deny you are familiar to me."

He smiled shyly, "we met on an airplane. Briefly. And shared a cup of coffee."

"Thesis boy," he exclaimed, suddenly remembering. "Obviously, it went well."

Thesis boy? Daniel shelved the name aside for the moment. "It did. That paper brought me quite a lot of recognition in the academic world. I don't think I could've done that without you," Daniel added, shredding the napkin in front of him.

"Me? I only found your paper." Jack objected.

"You also encouraged me. Walking into that room was overwhelming, all those knowledgeable people in one room and then there was me. Some punk student who had some crazy ideas. I almost backed out of the whole thing. What did I have to offer them? But, your words came to me. I just went out and let what I knew guide me."

Jack was embarrassed, it showed in the way he shifted in his chair. "Then, you're welcome."

656

Dr. Janet Fraiser left in her office, rubbing her aching shoulder absent-mindedly. Her dark red hair escaped her bun and tickled her cheeks as the wind blew it while she walked to her car. It had been one long, hot, nerve-wracking day and all she wanted to do was go home and get drunk, not necessarily in that order. A long, hot soak in a bath didn't sound to bad either, though she'd prefer a hot tub session.

Unfortunately, there was no way to avoid the meeting with General West.

With a sigh, she drove to Cheyenne Mountain and entered it, making her way past the security check posts. She trudged wearily down the hall, yawning. Turning the corner, she stopped in surprise, recognizing a familiar figure conversing with a younger man.

"As I live and breath, its Jack O'Neill," she exclaimed, hardly daring to believe her eyes. Seeing that man instantly woke her up, all her senses on high alert. One would have thought that they'd have warned her that he'd be around. When Jack O'Neill was involved, it was best to have foreknowledge, he usually got the worst of missions.

He whipped around, grinning widely at the petite woman. "Jan!" Moving away from his companion, he gave her a big hug, lifting her off the ground completely. "I don't believe it. I thought you told the general no. Or words to that effect."

She shrugged, studying Daniel over his shoulder. "What can I say? He finally made me an offer I couldn't refuse."

"I know, I am rather hard to resist," he put her down.

"For a dog may be," she smirked at his expression. "Who's this? He's not quite your usual type of acquaintance," she spoke that part softly so as not to hurt the young man's feelings. He must be quite a person to put up with Jack's abrasive personality.

"People change," he told her as they moved towards him. "Janet, this is Dr. Daniel Jackson. Danny, this is Dr. Janet Fraiser."

Though startled by the introduction and the friendly curiosity he saw in her eyes, he accepted her hand and smiled, "pleasure."

"It is," turning to Jack, she pouted. "And here I thought I was the only doctor for you. How could you do this to me, Jack? After all I've done for you, you go and find another doctor to take my place."

"He's not that kind of doctor, Jan." He stopped laughing and explained, seeing the hurt on Daniel's face. "Daniel here is a genius. Within moments, he single handedly cracked a code that has baffled scientists and 'experts' for years." I really need to remember how easily this man gets hurt by what we consider harmless comments, he thought.

"Jack!" Daniel protested, blushing. "I did not."

"Of course you did, Daniel. Accept it. You are a genius."

"Well, he must be something else as well to put up with you when he's not enlisted," she quipped, trying to spare Daniel more embarrassment.

"You mean, you're military?" he asked, looking for some sign that she was kidding.

She nodded, "afraid so. Captain. Are there going to be anymore surprises?" She asked, turning back to Jack.

"I don't think so," he thought for a moment. "Sara got the promotion to Lieutenant."

"I take it she'll be going with you?"

"After I almost lost Charlie? Just try to stop her."

She laughed, then sobered upon looking at her watch. "It was lovely meeting you, Dr. Jackson, but I'd better get going before they send out the marines, thinking that I got lost."

"You going to be okay?" Jack asked, looking worried.

"Of course. If I get in trouble, I'll just mention your name, Colonel," she told him sweetly, eyes bright with laughter. "And Jack? You owe me a drink."

A shout of laughter followed her down the hall, "I always seem to owe you a drink. Why is that, Jan?"

"You haven't the guts to pay up, O'Neill."

Jack smiled sympathetically at Daniel. "Welcome to Oz, Dorothy," he put an arm over his shoulder in support and guided him towards the elevator.

One Month later:

Jack looked at Daniel's books skeptically. "You do realize that no one's going to help you carry those with all that we have to take ourselves?"

"Jack, I may need everyone of those books by the time we're done. You'll be glad that I brought them along." Daniel spoke with exasperation in his voice, though it was muffled because his head was bent over his pack. "Why are we taking all of these weapons anyway?"

"We don't know what lies beyond that room and need to be prepared for anything." He paused, turning to look at the assembled supplies. "It isn't that excessive. Believe me, this is nothing for a mission the size that we are about to embark on."

Daniel gave him a look, the one Jack never had much trouble deciphering. "Yeah, and what if the people who can help us get hurt or frightened by all this stuff?"

"That's what you are to help us avoid, excuse me." He had caught sight of General West waving him over. It wouldn't do to get into a fight with him now. Only a few weeks earlier, there had been some trouble over his involvement in the project. It seemed that the Pentagon was uncomfortable with the younger man's full participation-and they had almost lost General West to another general who wouldn't allow the scholar his due.

Besides, he didn't want to give in to the temptation to argue with Daniel about his 'supplies'. If the academic man thought they'd be needed, then who was he to tell the expert no? With a wry grin, he acknowledged that had it been anyone other than Danny, he would've put his foot down.

General West waited to the left, out of earshot of the group. "This is your instructions should the unexpected occur. Do not open it unless you have no other choice."

"Understood, sir." He saluted sharply, accepting the envelope. Pulling off his pack, he put it in the back and went to join his team. Though he feigned ignorance, he could feel Daniel's questioning gaze resting on him. The one that usually brought him over so that they could talk. Not this time, Danny, he thought regretfully.

Once the wormhole was established and they had the green light, he patted Daniel's shoulder. Then he stepped through, followed closely by Daniel. The rest of the team waited for the signal to be given that all was safe. Hurdled through at an amazing rate, Jack barely had time to curl up and roll to minimize the impact with the hard ground.

"Shake it off, Daniel," he whispered, helping him to his feet. Taking a moment, they examined the room and the surrounding area. When nothing greeted them but silence, Jack clicked his radio twice and stood back to wait.

They emerged from the gate in pairs of two. Counting himself and Daniel, there were twelve. Once they'd reoriented themselves and the gate shut off, Jack barked out orders. "Kawalsky, Fraiser, I want you to take the right wing of this place. Lieutenant Kawalsky, Ferretti, take the left. Ryans, Johnson, see what you can do about powering the gate. May be that thing over there has something to do with it. Dr. Jackson, you work on finding the coordinates and getting us home. The rest of you are with me."

He watched the four marines drop their unnecessary loads before they walked past him, heading out in a silent stalk towards the outer rooms.

"Jack?" Daniel's voice was confused. His face twisted in pain to see the hard look in Jack's eyes.

His eyebrow rose, "yes, Dr. Jackson? Is there a problem?"

The linguist took a step back, hurt not only by the question but also by the lack of warmth emanating from him. "No, not at all." He withdrew to a corner, wrapping his arms around himself

"Good. I want to know what our situation is and when we can think of going home as soon as I get back, doctor."

Daniel just nodded his understanding, forcing himself to focus on the walls and columns instead of the sudden change in Jack's behavior. His eyes widened but he waited until the colonel had left before frantically searching the walls.

"Impossible!" he muttered, hands now flying over the walls in desperation. "Nothing," he sank to the ground, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Is there a problem, Dr. Jackson?"

"Call me Daniel, Dr. Fraiser. And, unless you count the fact that there seems to be no writing on the walls to tell us how to get home as a problem, no."

She whistled, "Janet, Daniel. Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. There's nothing on these walls. Anywhere. The columns are equally as bare. Without some indication or starting point, I can't figure this out at all. I can't get us home. What am I going to tell Jack?"

There was a click and Jack's voice came over the line. "Would someone mind sending Dr. Jackson out here, we are in desperate need of his services."

Janet caught the flinch at hearing Jack use his title. "Will do, colonel." Janet helped him up and walked out with him. "Daniel, don't mind the colonel. He has a job to perform and means nothing by his behavior."

"I know that, Janet. But he hasn't called me that since our first meeting. What am I supposed to call him, Colonel O'Neill?" He was bitter now. "I just get the feeling that he'd rather not have anything to do with me now that he's surrounded by his own kind."

Janet shielded her eyes as they emerged into the bright sunlight. There was silence between them as they started down the stairs. "It isn't like that, it is the mission. And you aren't military, you don't have to call him colonel anything. Jack will be fine."

"Actually, I'm thinking jerk is more appropriate," he snapped. Pausing to turn around, no longer able to ignore the feeling of familiarity, he stared up and the building and his lips twisted. "So, I'm just a tabloid archaeologist, am I? I wonder what they'd make of this, an almost exact replica of the Giza pyramids."

"Dr. Jackson? I know the scenery is lovely but would you mind making friendly with the natives? I'd rather not have to hurt anyone," the irritation was obvious.

With a sigh of deep regret, Daniel jogged down the remaining steps. All the time, he was studying the group surrounding Jack and his men. In an effort to not frighten them, they had obviously dropped their weapons, save the pistol in Jack's hand.

Daniel would've smacked him if he'd thought it would do some good. But, while it would make him feel better, it wouldn't make a good impression of the natives. So, he made do with a glare he'd honed on lazy students and dig workers. Standing by Jack, he reached out and forced the gun down.

Turning to the man dressed in red, he tried to read into that face any sign of hospitality. Or anything that might indicate a region from Earth whose language he could attempt to use. A distinct Middle-Eastern nobility decorated the lines on his face, so he made his start there, with the language of his birth land. "My name is Daniel Jackson. We are peaceful explorers from Earth and mean you no harm."

The man interrupted, speaking so quickly Daniel barely had time to catch his phrases. "You have come to us at last, Golden One. Great Mother spoke often of your arrival. She said that you would come to us through the Chap'pai. We have spent many years traveling here in search of you. Many doubted that you would ever come to free us from the demon." He approached, grabbing Daniel by the arm and pulling him-as well as Jack-up the sandy slope towards a herd of animals. "Come! You must be weary from your journey and in need of care."

Jack tried to stop their forward motion but Daniel's grip tightened on his hand and the sand deterred him. "Doctor? What's going on?"

"They want us to go with them, Jack." He spoke sharply, holding onto him even tighter. "We'll talk in a moment, I need to concentrate on his words."

He stayed silent, glancing back at Janet and the men. With a few hand gestures, he let her know that she was in charge. They were to stay there and set up a base camp. Although he doubted that this was a good thing, he trusted Daniel's judgment. He just didn't think he was supposed to be going with them. The leader had focused on the linguist and dropped his guard, as though he knew the man.

"Come, you will ride."

"Excuse me? But what shall I call you?" He hesitated in his pronunciation but attempted to speak a language they had only studied up until then.

The man was surprised to be acknowledged by their liberator and was silent. Finally, he swallowed and introduced himself as Kasuf. A young boy, with bright eyes and dark hair, approached them with a large beast. "This is my son, Skaara. Please, up."

Exchanging a wary look with Jack, Daniel clambered up on the beast, feeling graceless when Jack simply swung himself up and on in one smooth motion. Kasuf's eyes narrowed in suspicion and Daniel pointed to his friend. "Protector, Jack."

The look lightened, though the suspicion remained present. "There will be a great feast in your honor, Golden One."

"Please, it's Daniel, Kasuf," he repeated, uncomfortable under their stares.

Kasuf's head tilted as he shrugged and gestured to Skaara. With a first jerky motion, the beast began to slowly move over the sandy land following the boy's lead. The journey made conversation between the native leader and Daniel difficult, so Jack cleared his throat. "Enlighten me, doctor, as to what we are doing."

End, Act 1.