The return to Earth had been a whirlwind of tests, briefings, questions, and more tests. Daniel was beginning to see why Jack shot first and sent flowers later, the latter if at all. He was fine. He'd been asleep for a week, allegedly, and did have a fuller bladder than he had expected to have when he went to the toilet on his return. He would have thought the Asgard would have done something about that. He wasn't getting any younger and didn't want to take the turgidity of his detrusor muscle for granted. He stood in front of the mirror of the locker-room, thankfully alone. He generally liked people – it was part of his job – the honorary Canadian – as Jack referred to him for not shooting first. But the questions and comments grated after a while. He tried to see it from their point of view – they hadn't seen him for a week. He stared at his reflection. At least he had his memories this time. At least he hadn't been naked. The dim light did catch some silvery threads in his hair.

Yeah, the Asgard could have done something about that too.

But he was being selfish.

There was him… his clone. Thor had given into their pleas and had managed to stabilise him. That was good. While the whole situation confused him, Daniel couldn't bear to see someone die for no reason, even if their creation from his body was without his consent. He smiled, his countenance wistful. Jack had suggested that Danny could come back to Earth and 'be a kid'; go to school, live his life. Jack, for a perpetual grump, had always had a soft spot for children. But Danny had refused. He had been at college by his age, and he had been bullied a lot in his youth. He pushed back those painful memories as quickly as they had resurfaced. No wonder Danny had stayed. What he wouldn't give to learn more from the Asgard – their culture, their civilisation, and their history. At least he would be doing that somehow, if not him personally.

Still, it had been a strange week. Not the strangest, but deserving of the descriptor. At least he'd pulled through another debacle. He had got most of his memories back from before, but he already knew that, despite the darkness that wasn't all that far beneath the surface, he had missed this place; he would always come back here. His thoughts turned to Sam, the wistful expression turning wry. Yeah, he didn't know what had happened during that week, but he got the impression that things would be too weird if they continued. And besides, he wanted to spare them both a court martial or charges if their friends or Hammond found out. His expression grew sombre. If it hadn't been for the Asgard, who knew what could have happened between him and Sam?

Perhaps it was for the best.

A bright light appeared behind him, startling the archaeologist. He stumbled around, instinctively backing up against the mirror he had been staring into only moments ago. Panic gave way to confusion on seeing Danny there. He was still dressed the same, although he looked a lot brighter than he had done on the ship. As Daniel wondered briefly whether he had lost his mind… again, Danny smiled at him albeit shyly.

"Sorry to scare you. I just couldn't go running away with the Asgard without saying goodbye; properly anyway."

Daniel cleared his throat, a touch embarrassed as he realised that he was still against the mirror. He casually took a step forward, and then looked at the younger man before him. He said, wistful, "You know, you look a lot like Nick did, in those old photos he left me." He glanced around, looking a little sheepish, "My memory isn't a hundred percent yet but I think they're in my office somewhere."

Danny remarked with a slightly fonder smile, "Hey, your guess is as good as mine right now."

"So."

"So."

The two men looked at one another, their respective expressions unchanged in the subdued lighting of the locker-room. They both suddenly appeared bashful, both unsure what to say to the other. The younger man shrugged and said, glancing at his counterpart,

"I… I guess I don't really know what to say."

The older man retorted with a smirk, "Twenty-seven languages and you're lost for words."

They both smiled, amused at the irony. Danny's expression softened, and he said, glancing down at his feet, "I… well, I guess this is goodbye, Daniel." His expression hardened briefly as he met Daniel's concerned gaze. "Don't think for one minute you're me." His smile was just as brief before he looked down again. "I'll be back."

Daniel replied with an inaudible sigh, "That's Jack talking."

Danny met his gaze once again, pain in the former's eyes. "I want to say goodbye to everyone but it'd be too weird. Sam for one." He remarked wryly, "Me being fifteen or so." He sighed out loud as he looked up at the ceiling briefly before returning his gaze to Daniel. "I don't know where we – she and I – might have gone, but don't let her go. I know this is weird but we do weird for breakfast…" he smirked shyly, "… if we remember."

Daniel glanced down at the floor awkwardly, all too aware of their penchant for skipping meals during long days and nights working on projects. He looked back at Danny sombrely. "I guess it's just goodbye."

Danny's eyes suddenly grew moist as he released a shuddering breath, the gravity of his situation well and truly sinking in. He clearly his throat and looked at the floor to compose himself. He muttered, "Damn hormones."

Composed, or at least relatively, he looked at Daniel. They would part ways, and perhaps not see one another again; he wouldn't see his friends again – the people he had come to know over his time in Cheyenne Mountain, the friends they had made beyond the 'gate. He said, seriously,

"I'm not sure how to say this." He paused. "Live your life; don't let this get in the way of things."

Neither were adept at personal emotions; perhaps that is what kept Daniel on SG-1, what brought him back; his friends were just as bad, worse in some cases. But both were aware of this shortcoming in the other, and Daniel knew exactly what, or who, Danny was alluding to. He replied with a shrug, trying to be casual, "I don't know what it is... or was, but..." He paused, his words unsaid, lost in the silence that ensued.

They gazed at one another, both knowing that time was not in abundance, particularly for the men and women who regularly traversed event horizons to explore, to fight, and to defend. But. It was what it was, to use tautologous, superfluous words to convey a sense of acceptance of a less than ideal set of circumstances.

Danny smiled sadly as he gazed at Daniel. He glanced away, nodding in a grim acceptance of his new situation. Only last week, he was Daniel. Now, he would have to move on, to leave his home and his people. He was about to press a button on his tank top when Daniel engulfed him in a hug, the elder man having at least some insight into what was going through Danny's mind.

When they parted, Danny took a step back from him, resuming the brief distance between them. He smiled, his hand raising slowly in a wave as he pressed the button on his tank top, his body engulfing in the unmistakeable white glow of Asgard beaming technology.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Sam was not always great at using her leave. The Colonel insisted that she 'get out of this damn place', and locked her lab, preventing her from hiding there. For someone who had blown up a sun, she had been remarkably unmotivated to bypass the Colonel's pretty low level deterrences. After recent events, she knew she had to leave the Mountain, if only to clear her head and to leave behind traces of a life that had consumed her for as long as she could clearly remember.

But.

There he was. She was signing out of the last internal checkpoint before the car park when she heard him greet a passing sergeant. She turned. There was no way she could ignore him; she had tried to; she had tried to avoid him. She sighed to herself. She was being selfish. However hard it was for her, it must be at least tenfold for him. She waited for him on the other side of the checkpoint, smiling in greeting to the sergeant who nodded in reply and looked towards the archaeologist.

The two members of SG-1 walked out to the car lot in silence. Realisation hit the archaeologist as he surveyed the lot. He looked to her awkwardly as he patted his pockets. "Um... I think Danny has my keys."

The awkwardness between the two dissipated a touch as she eventually laughed a little in amusement. Without a word they walked to her car. Still silent towards one another, they got in and flashed their IDs to the sergeant manning the external checkpoint. The sergeant peered through at Daniel and remarked with a nod,

"Good to have you back, Sir."

Daniel nodded in reply, unsure of what to say to the sergeant. The barrier lifted, and Sam pulled forward, driving past the NORAD sign, and eventually joining Norad Road and speeding past the fire department. He smirked a little to himself as a part of himself once again wished he had drafted his Will as Sam, as usual, barrelled at full pelt down the road. He tried to distract himself by taking in the breathtaking scenery; one always saw so much more as a passenger than a driver. He glanced at Sam, his sense of wonder fading somewhat.

They needed to talk. Judging by the deathly grip she had on the steering wheel, and her tense jaw, he surmised she knew it too. He said nothing until she eventually came to a stop at a rocky outcrop overlooking the nearest town, the spot oft-visited by them of late, particularly after team nights, when she was purportedly giving Daniel a lift home. Wordlessly, she got out of the car and sat down on a boulder as she looked out towards the vista below them, the daylight making the drop below them a lot more obvious to Daniel who gulped at the realisation.

He tentatively at first sat down beside her, the two not saying anything. What could they say? The past week had been far from normal, but as often observed by themselves and their colleagues, their lives were never normal. Sam was the first to break the awkwardness, or at least chip away at it, by reaching for his hand, her head, awkwardly at first, against his shoulder.

He turned his hand over to hold hers, their fingers interlaced as he gazed down at her. He kissed the top of her head and turned his gaze back to the valley, trying not to dwell on what would happen should he trip or stumble close to the edge.

She murmured, her eyes closed, "I didn't know how... what to say to you, after... you know..." She looked up at him, their gazes meeting.

With his other hand, he reached up to stroke her cheek as he maintained his gaze. He smiled softly. "I'm not sure either." He looked down, breaking the gaze momentarily. "I... I'll understand if you want to take a break." He shrugged, looking at her again. "It is weird; maybe a little too weird this time."

She leaned her head against his shoulder again and said with a small smile, feeling a bit more secure for the first time in a little while, "I waited for you before; I don't want to waste any more time wondering what could have been."

He smiled more fully at this, and he gently planted another kiss on her head as they turned their gazes out towards the view beyond. Come what may, he was back, and he would keep coming back. No doubt in the years to come, their lives would take them far apart, but a hazy memory resurfaced of a promise he had made – he was unsure of where or when, but he thought Oma might have been there – that he would never give up again.