Disclaimer - MGM/Gekko/Double Secret own them.

Spoilers for ‘The Fifth Race’, ‘Upgrades’, ‘Window of Opportunity’, ‘Tangent’, 'Revelations', ‘Descent’, 'Abyss' and ‘Cure’. Set in a future season. The ‘flashbacks’ however, are set in season six, before the events of ‘Sight Unseen’. The reason for this? I started writing this fic before spoilers came out, and they kinda interfered with the fic ;) Thus, the flashbacks are definitely set before Jonas became a translating fiend *g*.

For the girls, just for listening. For Nellie, for kicking ass *smooch*. And for Arnise and Kels, who are really quite scary.

*

He'd been staring at the water for the last three hours; it was all he ever did anymore. There were other activities, other...things. But he didn’t consider them as something he accomplished. So he ate, and he breathed and sometimes he even slept, but staring at the water was all he really *did*.

Not that he actually saw the water, or the reflection of the trees, or the various insects that buzzed, hovered, and took frequent samples from his blood stream.

Not that he saw, or felt, any of it.

He couldn't even remember the last time he'd looked at a newspaper. For all he knew the Goa'uld could have stampeded their way across Earth, somehow missing his single, solitary cabin.

If that was true, part of him wished they hadn't.

Missed him.

He didn't move when Daniel appeared. He didn't even speak.

"Hi, Jack."

As usual, his friend saved him the trouble. Except he wasn't even his friend anymore. A friend would have turned up long before this.

"How are you doing?"

It was a stupid question; they both knew it, so Jack said nothing.

"Because you look terrible."

That finally prompted a response. "Thanks, Daniel."

He sat on a chair that Jack was absolutely certain hadn't been there five seconds earlier. "I know about Sam."

Straight to business, then. He could at least appreciate that, even if the beer he was drinking did nothing to ease the dryness in his throat. "You're a little late if you've come to say how sorry you are. The rest of us did that six years ago." Yes, he was pissed. But didn't he have a right? Daniel should have *been* there.

"Did you?" he asked. "Did you really?"

"God Daniel, do you *know* how much I...?" Control. Control. All the time alone had worn his edges away. He hadn't had a 'conversation' this long for over two years.

Or at least not with anyone who actually existed.

Starting carefully, he continued talking. "I tried. I tried to apologise. I can't blame Jacob for not forgiving me; I don't deserve-"

"He understands, Jack."

"And how in the hell do you know that?" He moved, finally looking towards him, and seeing - as expected - that Daniel looked exactly the same as he had the last few times he'd seen him. Same hair. Same outfit.

Same damned enigmatic smile.

Jack got it. "Oh forget it. Forget the vagueness, and the 'powers'," he lifted his hands and wiggled his fingers, having deposited his beer on the arm of the chair, "that you have but for some reason *refuse* to use. The fact of the matter is you were there, and you didn't do anything."

So yeah. Pissed. But with good reason.

Daniel didn't seem particularly surprised to discover that Jack knew he'd been there. He'd never once shown himself, never once formed a gust a wind, but Jack had simply known.

Had even, at his weakest, asked for him despite the personal humiliation.

"What did you expect me to do? I wasn't there when it actually happened. I couldn't stop it from happening; I didn't have the ability even if I had been there at the time. I couldn't *do* anything."

"Didn't stop you from turning up at Ba'al's place." Jack winced internally, even though he'd been the one to bring up that particular subject.

"That was different."

"Oh? Do tell."

He hesitated; looking suspiciously like he knew Jack wasn't going to be pleased with whatever he was about to come out with.

He was right.

"That was your soul."

Soul. He should have laughed once, angry. He should have argued it was ridiculous. He should have said nothing, staring back at the water.

He stood up, pushing himself out of the chair. "And you don't think this is?"

"Jack..." He matched his pose, his chair definitely disappearing into oblivion.

He really couldn't care less. "Why the hell are you here, Daniel?"

"I need to hear it."

"Hear what?"

Daniel glanced away, for the first time looking vaguely uncomfortable with something and did that ‘pausing’ thing he was so fond of. "I've already seen Jonas. He doesn't like talking about it."

"You saw Jonas?" He almost felt...jealous. How ridiculous was that? He was - or had been - the only one Daniel had shown himself to.

He ignored the question. "He doesn't like talking about it, but he did. I need you to do the same."

"What for?" God knew it wasn't a story he ever wanted to tell again, even if he was able to recite it without even having to actually remember it.

Not that he didn't remember it.

Verbal reports, written reports; everything had been told dozens, in the end what felt like hundreds of times. "You said you couldn't help her." And then Daniel's words came back to him.

At the time. He couldn't help her. At the time.

Hope, something long since forced out of his mind, crashed back into it with startling intensity. "Can you...?" He took half a step towards him, the hair on the back of his neck standing up just at the *idea*.

"I don't know," Daniel confessed.

Hope deflated.

"What I told you before was true; ascension doesn't make you all knowing, but...I've been learning. I know more than I used to. And I might be able..." He didn't finish, obviously not wanting to give him any guarantees.

Might. Maybe. Perhaps.

It was enough.

It was more than enough.

To bring her back, anything was enough. "What do you need?"

Daniel didn't smile, exactly, but he did look relieved. "Tell me what happened."

********

"*Please* tell me that isn't what I think it is."

It was Teal'c who investigated Jack's complaint, moving closer - though not too close, obviously (apparently Jaffa had an excellent sense of smell) - to the foot that was waving around, a few inches from the floor.

As for Jack himself, he was maintaining his balance by resting a hand against the side of one of the buildings on P7R 327. The 'town' the UAV had shown them - and that they'd subsequently investigated - had a decidedly 'un-groomed' feel to it. Everything was overgrown. Trees, plants; the grass areas they occasionally came across were particularly impressive. He hadn't known grass could even grow that big. Tall. Whatever.

And though there were no signs of life, there were plenty of signs that there used to be life.

The buildings were the obvious starting point. Not quite as advanced as Earth, but definitely more sophisticated than simple huts or structures (geez, he was thinking like Daniel). There were indications of some level of technology, too - earlier Carter had stumbled across a device she figured was some kind of calculator.

But every building, home or structure they investigated had an 'interrupted' feel to it. Remains of meals were on tables. Tasks were left incomplete. He couldn't help but think that something bad had happened...

And then this.

Teal'c soon pulled his head away, almost wincing. "I am afraid it is what you suspect it is, O'Neill."

Dammit. Sighing, Jack lowered his foot, moved away from the building, and searched for something on the ground that had an edge he could rub his foot across. "What is it with me and alien animal crap?"

Though she tried to hide it, Carter sniggered.

Jonas, as always, was confused. "Alien animal...this happens to you a lot?"

Frankly, Jack would be amazed if Jonas didn't take a sample of the alien animal crap and study it closely. The guy was fascinated with *everything*.

Ignoring the question he turned away, intent on heading to the next building. He didn't like the fact that everyone seemed to have vanished. Carter's gizmo had confirmed there was nothing dangerous in the atmosphere, or any evidence that there ever had been.

As he and Teal'c walked ahead, Jack heard Carter explaining something to Jonas. Something about him and giant insect dung. He wasn't sure if he should like or dislike the fact that she remembered it so vividly.

As always - despite the fact they'd yet to find anyone else on the planet - Teal'c entered the building first, wielding the staff weapon in the way that only he could. When he was satisfied it was clear, he allowed them entrance.

Jack strolled in, musing that it didn't look hugely different from the rest of the buildings they'd been in. There did seem to be a kind of standardisation to them; none of that originality that the architects back home-

"Books," Jonas interrupted, making Jack wonder what the hell he was talking about.

But he was right. There they were, on a table. Books.

And now that he thought about it, they were the first sign of books he'd seen at all.

There were three books on the table, two of them open and when Jack wandered towards them as Jonas was picking one up, he almost tripped over another book that was lying on the floor.

Bending down, Jack grabbed it and then heaved his body up with a lot more effort than it used to take. Trying to give no outward sign of twinges at various points throughout his body, he flicked open the book and idly glanced inside.

And then he wasn't quite so idle.

Jonas spoke, his confusion obvious. "I'm sure I've seen examples of this kind of text in Dr Jackson's notebooks, but I don't know what any of it say-"

"Language," Jack interrupted, drawing everyone's attention.

Realising that everyone, including Teal'c, was staring at him, he pointed a finger into the book. "This symbol here. It means 'language'." The staring continued. Finally, he lifted the book and turned it to face his team mates. "Time loop?" He prompted. "Me and Teal'c having to translate the language of the Ancients? This being a prime example, by the way."

Teal'c stepped forward, taking the book out of Jack's grip and reading over the exposed pages. "O'Neill is correct. This is indeed the language of the Ancients."

"So what are we saying?" Carter asked. "That this is...was a colony of the Ancients?"

"That doesn't seem very likely, given the limited level of technology," Jonas offered as he glanced up from a book, an idea Carter clearly agreed with because she nodded. "And besides," he continued, lifting another book. "This one seems to have completely different text."

Frowning, Jack walked the few steps until he was next to Jonas, and peered over his shoulder. He was right; it was a text he didn't recognise at all. It was nothing like the barcode style text of the Ancients, seeming to be comprised of different styles of what he could only describe as 'swirly things'.

Nice coherent description, that. "Huh."

"Colonel."

It was Carter. She'd begun moving throughout the room, investigating, and was now kneeling down next to what appeared to be some kind of cupboard.

"What is it?"

She nodded to the cupboard, and he followed her gaze; inside were several more books, but the cupboard itself was small. It was obviously intended only to hold the few books already inside, and those SG-1 had discovered.

But that wasn't what she was looking at.

Stepping around Jonas, Jack approached the cupboard before matching her pose on the other side of it, bending down to peer at the detail.

Though he knew nothing about alien construction, there was no way he could fail to understand what was on the door and the frame. "Someone put a lock on this thing,"

Carter met his gaze, as usual knowing where his thoughts were heading. "And these are the first books we've come across at all since arriving here. That it itself is significant."

God knew he wasn't going to be the one to discover if they actually *were* significant, but she'd verbalised the point he didn't need to make. For some reason, someone had liked keeping the only books they'd discovered under lock and key. That was enough reason to investigate further.

Carter's gaze was distracted away from him, and from the direction she was looking at he knew precisely what was doing the distracting. Without moving, he mumbled.

"Yes Jonas, we *will* take the books."

When she smiled, he had his proof that their fourth member was satisfied.

Which may or may not have been a bad thing.

They left not long after, mostly because the place was still giving Jack the creeps. Thankful he didn't get the lecture about 'leaving behind an alien culture' that he used to get from Daniel, he still assured them that they'd send a follow up team behind; someone who specialised in this kind of thing all the time. SG-1's missions were usually a meet and greet.

On their way back to the gate, Carter meandered along next to him. "It's weird."

What *wasn't*? "What is?"

"You and Teal'c in the time loop. I mean, obviously I know it must have happened because you did translate the text, we stopped Malachai and the Tok'ra couldn't contact us...but there's no real scientific evidence."

"Trust me," he assured her. "It happened. I don't think I've ever been so bored in my entire life. And we *both* know that's saying something."

Grinning, she glanced away.

Jack couldn't help but feel pleased. Though it was still a struggle, he felt they'd been more relaxed lately. Not that they were a *they*, but last year had really been tough. Tougher than it should have been, even for them. The attempt to show that they were fine, that there was nothing going on had gone much further than it should have.

She spoke again, drawing him out of his internal musings. "Was it really that bad?"

"You try re-living the same ten hours over and over and *over* again - and then we'll talk." He shrugged and admitted the truth. "It wasn't all bad. At least I had company. And I got to..." Oh noooo, he wasn't about to mention that. "...learn a lot."

Carter was clearly dubious. "'Learn a lot'?"

"Oh yeah. Learning is very important. I'm a big fan of education."

Rolling her eyes, she barely humoured him. "I'll remind you of that next time I try to explain something about the Stargate."

"Ah," he lifted his right hand, extending his index finger. "Now there's education, and there's *boring*. You, as an individual, are not boring. You, in terms of your work, are extremely boring. But that's a good thing. That's why I need you around to know all this stuff; so you can fix the gate whenever it hiccups, or has an asthma attack. So to speak."

"Thank you." She blinked a few times. "I think."

It was definitely intended as a compliment, but Jack decided to shut up.

*

The dull return to the SGC elicited a smile from Hammond; standing in the control room – no doubt relieved that it was one of those rare missions where someone wasn't trying to kill them.

They simply walked.

His voice echoed around them, via the microphone in the control room. "Welcome back, SG-1."

"Thank you, sir," Jack tipped a finger towards his forehead and then pulled it down as he stepped from the ramp. "Glad to be here."

Long suffering amusement flittered across Hammond's features. "Debrief will be at 1600."

"Yes, sir."

As the gate shut down someone approached to relieve Teal'c and Jonas of the books they were carrying (one of the perks of being the team leader was deciding who got to carry stuff). Jack shared one last smile with Carter before leaving to get showered and checked out at Fraiser's House of Pain.

*

"Books?" Hammond queried, carefully choosing and opening one from the two stacks before him.

"Believe me, sir, I was about as thrilled as you sound now when we first found them," Jack began, gaining a knowing glance from his superior officer, "but, loath as I am to admit it, it does seem they could be important."

"How so?"

Jonas took that one up. "Four of the books - including the one you're examining now, General - are full of a hand-written text that both Colonel O'Neill and Teal'c confirm is the language of the Ancients."

Hammond, who up until that moment had been slowly flicking through the pages of the book as if worried it would fall apart, suddenly looked up. "The Ancients...?" Frowning, he glanced down at them again, as if now that he'd been told what the text was, it looked vaguely familiar. "What about the other books?"

"Those..." Jonas hesitated. "We're not so sure of." He watched as Hammond put down the book from the first pile, then picked one up from the second. "It seems clear it's also some kind of written language, but it's not one that any of us are familiar with. Teal'c says he's never come across anything quite like it during his time working for the Goa'uld."

Hammond met Teal'c's gaze, as if looking for confirmation. The Jaffa nodded. "And there were no signs of life?"

"Oh there were plenty signs of life, General," Jack replied. "Buildings, half-finished meals, books left opened," he gestured towards them. "Just not any current signs of life. It's as if everyone suddenly had a *really* strong urge to go on vacation."

Thoughtful, Hammond slouched back in his chair. Except he was a general, so he never actually slouched. 'Relaxed with dignity' was a much better term. "Could they have evacuated through the Stargate?"

"It’s possible." Carter shrugged. "But for what reason? My sensors didn't detect any traces of anything dangerous - either chemically or biologically - in the atmosphere, and there were no sign of weapons fire or any kind of warfare. Everything was in perfect order. It was as if they simply..."

"Disappeared?" Hammond offered.

She nodded, because there was no other term for it. "Yes, sir."

"This event happened some time ago." Teal'c said. "Abandoned meals had decayed almost to the point of non-existence, and the foliage was heavily overgrown."

It definitely gave Jack the creeps. "General, I recommend we send a team back to investigate further, but I *also* recommend that they exercise extreme caution."

"Agreed, Colonel," Hammond glanced around at his flagship team, "though all of you have been cleared by Dr Fraiser, I'll send SG-12 through in full hazmat. In the meantime, I'll ask one of our linguistic exper-"

"Uh, General?" Jonas cut in. "Sorry for interrupting, but...okay, I know linguistics isn't my area of expertise, but I really enjoyed my work on Pengar and was wondering if maybe I could have a go at trying to translate what's in the book. I know I won't have much luck with the text we don't recognise in the short term, but for the Ancients text I'll at least have Dr Jackson's notes and past translations to work from."

Hammond hesitated, clearly weighing the decision.

Frankly, Jack didn't much care. He knew there were other guys and gals who did this for a living, but Jonas had always wanted to experience *everything*, whether it was a specific interest or not - it was an inherent part of his nature.

Jack realised the general was looking towards him, not needing but searching for an opinion. He shrugged. "I have no problem with that, General, as long as it doesn't interfere with SG-1's other duties." Truth was, he'd be grateful to be rid of the guy for a while. Sure, he was getting along better with him than he ever thought he would, and maybe - just maybe - he was starting to value his opinion, but that didn't mean Jonas' boundless enthusiasm didn't get on his nerves sometimes.

The comparison between Jonas and a certain other member of SG-1's behaviour when they'd first joined couldn't help but be drawn - and Jack found himself smiling.

Which turned out to be a very bad idea.

See, he may have been eager to lose Jonas from SG-1for a couple of days, but not *that* eager. And certainly not if it meant...

"Very well, Jonas," Hammond agreed, "I'll give you five days. I know it's not a great amount and you're not likely to conclude much of value in such a short amount of time, but this really isn't your area and I have to let the experts get their hands on it eventually."

Jonas didn't look in the least bit disappointed. "I'm aware of that, General, and thank you very much. You won't regret your decision."

And then Hammond did it. "Why, I have an idea."

It was such an unlikely thing for Hammond to say that Jack immediately took notice. A suspicious kind of notice.

Jonas seemed oblivious. "What's that, General?"

"Well, why don't I assign Colonel O'Neill to give you a hand?"

Oh no. No, no, no, no, *no*. "Uh, General..."

"He may not be a 'linguistics expert' per se, but he's had first hand experience of using variations of this language twice - when the Ancient's database was downloaded into his brain, and then when he had to decipher the text on the time device."

*Now* Jonas looked unmistakably stunned, glancing nervously towards Jack. "Oh, ah, not that I don't appreciate the suggestion, General, but I'm sure Colonel O'Neill has something else he'd rather be-"

"I happen to know for a fact that - apart from this particular mission report - all of Colonel O'Neill's paperwork is up to date. SG-1's next mission isn't scheduled for a few more days, and the Colonel's other duties can be put on hold for a while."

Absurdly, Jack found himself saying "Thank you."

He was too surprised to say anything else.

"That's decided then." Hammond nodded, smiling at Jonas. "Colonel O'Neill will join you in your office tomorrow. Dismissed." He stood, and everyone quickly followed suit, watching until their superior officer had retreated into his own office.

Jonas, still seeming nervous, quickly fled and a compassionate looking Teal'c left soon after.

Carter lingered, standing next to him.

Jack sighed, glaring at the office. "He is having entirely too much fun at my expense."

"Well you did kind of bring it on yourself. Sir."

He turned the glare towards her. "*How* did I bring it on myself?"

She gave him a knowing look. "You did seem...pleased, at the prospect that Jonas wouldn't be around for a while."

Pleased? Nah. More like relieved. He spoke the truth. "I wasn't pleased."

"You were smiling."

Ahhh. Suddenly he understood. "See, that's where you're mistaken. I wasn't smiling at the 'prospect of Jonas not being around for a while.'"

If her frown was anything to go by, she believed him. "So why *were* you smiling?"

There was something else he wasn't about to mention. "I was just...amused by a stray thought I had." He gestured with his right hand, sweeping it through the air. "Something wrong with that?"

"No." She shrugged. "Just unusual."

"Unusual? Me? Please, my stray thoughts are hilarious. I crack myself up all the time." He gave up when she rolled her eyes - even if it was good-natured. "God I hate this." He sunk back into his chair. "I *hate* languages; they were never my favourite subject. Especially 'Ancient' ones."

She perched herself next to him. "The General is right, sir; you do have previous experiences with the language."

"Carter, the first one I don't even remember, and the second one I'm doing my best *not* to remember." He rubbed a hand over his face. "Besides, didn't I read somewhere that it's easier for young kids to learn languages because they absorb stuff faster or something? Why put *me* through this?"

"The top secret classification of the Stargate project aside," she teased, "if it *is* true that kids find it easier to remember things, I'd say you have nothing to worry about."

The hand that had been in the process of rubbing over his face again, paused. “Oh well *that’s* nice. Here I am, expressing my fears, and *you* make fun of me.”

She stared at him. “‘Expressing your fears’?”

He peeked out from behind his hand. “You know you really don’t have to repeat everything I say. In fact, I think you should be appropriately chastised for making fun of your superior officer.”

“‘Appropriately chas-?’”

“Carter...” He removed the hand.

“Sorry.” She obviously wasn’t. “So, what’s my punishment?”

Oh, she *had* to know how that sounded...so she really should be doubly punished. “I get to eat jello...”

“Yeah?”

“...and you just get to watch.”

For some reason she didn’t seem particularly disappointed.

*

His report had been written and handed in, he'd gone home, had seven hours of sleep then Lucky Charms for breakfast (just for a change), and now here he was, standing outside Jonas' office.

He really didn't want to go in, because he knew that when he did, what would follow would be days of boring, mind numbing, coma inducing *translating*.

Ugh.

Carter had psychically dragged him there. She may never have actually touched him (something that he forced himself to think was a good thing), but with a smile, a word, and occasionally that glare, she'd coaxed him through several levels until he was standing outside Jonas' office.

And then she'd abandoned him.

Though he had no proof, somehow he suspected that she'd subsequently headed to security control and was now monitoring his actions via security camera, to make sure he actually went in.

Sighing, he eyed the closest camera suspiciously, and shuffled towards the entrance.

Peering inside he could see Jonas sitting at a desk, multiple books spread out before him. It was a sight Jack had seen countless times before...but with someone else. Someone with short brown hair, glasses, and an ability to come back from the dead no matter what grisly end finished him off this time.

He couldn't help it.

"I shall call him Mini-Daniel."

Jonas' head shot up, and from his frown he either didn't understand or understood all too well what Jack had just said. Either way, he didn't mention it. "Colonel...you're here."

Jack shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled in. "You noticed. Well done." Oh *this* was gonna be fun. Was it against regulations to imagine payback on a superior officer involving handcuffs, a radiator, and that sixty-something woman at the end of his street who was obviously desperate for a date?

"Uh..." He stood, grabbing paper, more books, and what looked suspiciously like a fishbowl from the chair on the other side of the desk, and dumping it all somewhere else in the room.

*There* was a difference. Daniel may have had his own brand of clutter, but at least his chairs had always been kept clear.

Thanking him Jack sat down, drumming his fingers on the edge of the desk - or at least he would have if there'd been any part of the desk at all that wasn't covered by something.

Extending his right index finger, he firmly pushed the book closest to him away from the edge, giving himself room to drum-

THUMP!

Oops.

Problem was, there was so *much* on the desk that pushing that one book had pushed something else, which had in turn pushed something *else*...right off the other end of the desk.

"Uh, sorry." Jack shifted in his chair, feeling strangely guilty.

"Not a problem," Jonas declared, picking the book up and placing it back on the table - on top of everything else. How could a guy so smart be so messy? "So," Jonas continued. "I thought we might start with...I know you don't want to be here, Colonel."

The sudden change of conversation wasn't a complete surprise. "Yes I do." He took in Jonas' expression and sighed. "Okay, okay; no, I *don't* want to be here. But it really has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with languages. Not big on them, you see."

He nodded slightly, then frowned. "Why do you think General Hammond said we should work together then?"

He wasn't going anywhere near the truth with that one. "Well, he does kinda have a point - I've had a fair amount of experience with this particular language...though personally, I don't think I remember much. But I guess we don't really know until we try, do we?"

"I suppose."

"Well." Jack intended to thump his hand onto the table, to signal that they should get to work. Naturally, he ended up thumping his hand onto a book (causing quite a dust cloud in the process). He coughed. "Well, we should probably try and start...though this might go a lot easier if we had *room* to start." The faster they started, the faster they'd finish. He hoped.

Acknowledging Jack's comment, Jonas finally got the hint and began sorting through the books. Several piles were formed: the new books (which were probably actually very old books), a few journals, and paperwork relating to past translation attempts. Jack looked at the work before him, and sighed. Geez...

"Colonel," Jonas sat back in his seat, pulling a book towards him on the desk, "before we start can I just ask you something?"

Sure. What the heck? "Sure."

"What's a mini-Daniel?"

*

It was the weirdest damn thing. He was in Jonas' office, trying to translate something and...he was almost enjoying it.

Yeah it was hair-pullingingly, teeth-grindingly frustrating, but that he obviously remembered more than he realised and could put that to some kind of use was...

Satisfying.

Surprising.

And the fact that he didn't have to live the same translations over and over again probably helped.

Of course, he was telling none of this to Jonas. Couldn't go too easy on the guy; so he kept up the moaning, the snide comments, the opinion that translating was for geeks.

Until Carter turned up.

The freaky thing was, he didn't even notice her come in. He and Carter were always - right from the beginning - attuned to each other. Without looking or noticing any 'real' evidence of it, he'd know instantly if she'd walked into the same room or roughly where she was and what she was doing.

Today, he didn't notice her until she was literally peering over his shoulder.

But he didn't jump when she suddenly began to speak, either, reading from the words he'd written on his pad.

"Language...dissolve...*catnip*?"

Damn. "Uh, my mind was wandering." And who could blame him? He could hardly stay focused all the time. Using his pen to heavily cross the word out, he leant back in his chair and stretched dramatically. Wow. He felt surprisingly...exhausted.

Smiling, Carter stepped away. "So how's it going?"

"Good." He answered on a yawn. "I think." He shrugged towards Jonas.

Jonas shrugged back. What little talking there had been had involved nothing but the languages they were trying to decipher, though there had been an excited chatter about ninety minutes ago when they may - or may not - have had some kind of breakthrough. It was still too early to tell.

Carter traversed the room, taking in the books, the papers, and the chalkboard that had been brought in - complete with stupid pictures drawn on it. She raised her eyebrows at his attempt at the Stargate.

Jack shrugged. "Was there anything in particular you wanted, Carter, or are you just being nosy?"

"Actually," she stepped towards him, but glanced between both men, "you guys have been in here all day. It's time you had something to eat."

"I ate already," Jonas volunteered, pointing to a plate balancing precariously on the edge of a Latin book.

Jack rolled his eyes, and indicated the various plates dotted around the room. "You ate *continuously*."

Carter smiled. "Well in that case, sir, *you* need to eat."

Thinking about it, he realised he'd had nothing except those Lucky Charms and the occasional mug of coffee all day. "I don't feel hungry..."

"Tough. Sir." He didn't know why she even bothered with the 'sir'; it was clear she wouldn't be denied. "It's unhealthy to skip meals."

He stared at her. Just stared. "Are you - *you* - seriously having this little pep talk with me? You of all people have no right to pull that kind of-"

"Actually, sir, as your second in command part of my responsibility is to decide if you're still able to function as a member of the tea-"

"Woah, woah, stop." He held up a hand. "And what about me as your boss? As your superior officer? What about you skipping *countless* meals? What about me deciding if you're able to function? Is my opinion less important than yours?"

She took the time to seriously ponder his questions - or so it seemed. Jonas appeared thoroughly fascinated by the scene playing out before him, and his grin only became bigger when Carter finally responded.

"You bring up some interesting points, sir, and I'd love to discuss your opinion further...as you eat dinner in the commissary."

If he hadn't already fallen for her, he would have right then.

*

Halfway through her meal, he still hadn't touched his yet. He leant forward across the table in the commissary, gesturing as he talked.

"...and I know it's gonna take ages to figure out, but I think we've cracked the basic idea already. I know, I know; that sounds impossible but by comparing the different glyphs it seems to be making sense."

"Cracked what, exactly? What the books say?" Carter asked between bites, definitely seeming amused by something.

Though he recognised that on a subconscious level, consciously he had *way* too much to talk about. He actually snorted, rolling his eyes. "Hardly. One day we pick up a book filled with an ancient language, and the very next we've deciphered it? I don't think so. Even Daniel wasn't that good."

She seemed to find her meal incredibly interesting just then. "So, what is it?"

"Well, I..." He hesitated, drawing her attention, not quite wanting to admit that he was worried what she'd think. They didn't have absolute proof just yet. "Well, you know there are seven books? Four written in the language of the Ancients, and three in that weird swirly stuff?"

Carter nodded. "Right,"

Oh, what the hell? "We *think* that somebody was doing what we're doing now."

"Sorry?"

"Translating. We think that someone on that planet somehow got hold of the books with the Ancient's language in it, and were translating them into their own language."

"The weird swirly stuff," she checked.

Now it was his turn to nod. "Right."

"Which means...?" Her food was long since forgotten.

"I don't know," Jack shrugged. "Obviously someone on that planet knew something about translating or language, but why were they the only books we came across? Maybe reading and writing was forbidden like it was on Abydos..."

"Maybe," Carter conceded, frowning. "But they were quite technologically advanced. I don't see how they could have progressed that far without at least some kind of written language."

He finally picked up a fork and ruefully stabbed it into a slice of carrot as he lifted his eyebrows. "As far as we know they *are* an alien culture, Carter. Maybe they do things differently. Maybe if they were forbidden it was a new thing."

"So you're saying something happened to them recently - when they were still around, that is - that caused them to outlaw reading?"

"Hey." He held up his fork hand. "I'm not saying *anything*. I'm just thinking out loud. *You're* the ideas guy."

"Woman."

"Whatever."

Not seeming particularly bothered by...well, *anything*...her frown deepened as her gaze internalised, and then as if suddenly realising something, she looked back at him.

And grinned.

Jack glanced over his own shoulder, checking for sergeants with big wrenches pulling funny faces. There was nobody there. "What?"

The smile remained. "Nothing."

"Now don't give me 'nothing'." He was way too curious. "Come on, what is it?"

Glancing down she almost seemed...shy. Shy? Carter? "It's just nice, that's all."

His first instinct was to say something about just generally being in her presence, but thankfully he didn’t. "What is?"

Lifting her head back up, she tilted it to one side as she regarded him. "When you surprise me."

"I surprised you?" He must have missed something.

"When you're yourself. When you stop playing dumb."

Oh.

That.

"You know, none of this actually means that I'm *smart*-"

"Just, stop right there." Now she was holding her fork up. There was still a piece of carrot rammed onto the prongs. "You're doing it again."

"Doing what again?"

"Playing dumb, when we both know you're not. Why can't you just accept the fact that we think you're-?"

"Oh, you're no better." His fork clanged onto his plate.

He hadn't been planning on interrupting. He really hadn't, but the words had come out anyway.

And now she was staring at him, her own fork carefully lowering down.

Damn. "What do you mean?"

He stared at his barely eaten dinner, trying to reach a decision: back out, or push on blindly? Hell, he was never very much for backing out. "It may be about different stuff, but you're just the same."

"Different stuff?"

Okay. He needed a big exhalation, to relax his body muscles, and try to forget that Hammond was sitting in his office only a few levels away. This wasn't...really...*that* bad. "With work stuff, you're fine. We can say you're brilliant because it's true and you'll accept it." She did at least flush a little. "But anything else..."

"Like what?"

Ack! Man, why was he doing this? "I don't know, Carter." Desperate, he grabbed onto whatever sprung to mind. "The type of person you are. The type of friend you are. The way you look. You can't accept compliments about any of those."

Now she was even redder. She really should be telling him to shut up. "The way I look?"

And there it was. The big one. She must have known that he found her attractive and that, in fact, lots of people found her attractive. Actually accepting that was something else entirely. "Yeah. You're, uh..." Geez, 'not bad to look at' would sound really insulting, wouldn't it? "You're nice to look at, Carter. You should get used to the fact that I-people...some people find you nice to look at."

There.

Now he suspected his face was just as red as hers. Not that he could even check how red she was at the moment; his tray of food was suddenly fascinating and God, why had he said any of that? Why couldn't he have kept his mouth shut? Why-? He surprised himself by speaking. "I should go." The chicken breast on his plate was mocking him; he was sure of it. It looked just like General Hammond's head.

Huh. Sounded like something that would turn up as an article in one of Teal'c's papers. 'My Meal Looks Like My Boss', punctuated with six exclamation marks.

Exclamation marks. Punctuation. Grammar. He had to focus on that. Anything but her.

He was going to stand, comma, push away from the table, comma, and stride purposefully out of the room, period.

She spoke before he could move, period.

Damn, he had to stop doing that.

"You haven't eaten your dinner."

"I ate."

"One piece of carrot," she argued, still not looking up.

"Got my daily dose of vitamin B, then. Good for the eyesight you-"

"*Eat*."

He did. Quickly and most definitely without finesse, trying to swallow his meal down in record time. Anything longer and- "What you said. About me." She was speaking again.

He swallowed a large mouthful of chicken, making his eyes water. "What I said?"

Her fork was doing something interesting with her mashed potato. "I could, uh, say the same. About you."

"Me?" Say the same...say what was the same? That he was nice to look-?

Oh.

Suddenly he thought he understood how she felt. Though he'd known for a long time that they were attracted to each other, it was considerably different to actually say it.

"Oh, I...am? You...do?" Good God - what was he acting like? You'd think he'd never been married; hell, that he'd never had sex before.

Well, technically he'd never done either of those with her, so maybe this was normal.

"Yeah," she said eventually, and Jack was beginning to wonder if somebody had welded her neck into place so she couldn't look up, "not bad for a guy...uh, man, uh *sir*."

Oh yeah. Not bad for a *sir*.

Joy.

Sighing heavily, he closed his eyes for a few seconds before forcing them back open. And forcing *them* back to somewhere else. "So tell me about this calculator thing you found."

She did, happily, though it took another minute or so before she could meet his gaze.

*

Day two dawned with Jack feeling decidedly more optimistic about their translation attempts – though he suspected that may have had something to do with the fact that he was really trying *not* to focus on Carter.

So, he all but threw himself into the work, surprising Jonas, Hammond (who stopped by for a while) and even himself. Sure, he’d discovered the previous day that he remembered more than he thought he did, but when he really put his mind to it, even he seemed to have the potential to be kinda...

Smart.

He knew; he’d always known that he had life smarts. The stuff that kept you alive (if not necessarily out of danger), even if it was barely existing.

But this stuff. This ‘other’ stuff...he’d never really needed to use it before. There were exams and tests that had to be passed on the way to Colonel, certainly, but he’d always seen that simply as part of the job.

Jonas didn’t question him about his sudden fascination with the books, though Jack was aware of more than one speculative glance. And it was just after the guy left the room to find the john, that Jack realised he still wasn’t alone.

He lifted his head.

She was in the doorway.

After that conversation yesterday, they’d fumbled, tackled, and passed to try and find a way out of it, and had never entirely succeeded. He couldn’t even remember what she’d said about that calculator thing, and he seriously doubted she remembered either.

And she was in the doorway. And she was speaking.

“I owe you an apology.”

Probably should have been his line. “You do?” He didn’t really remember them arguing. Just...slightly disagreeing.

She hadn’t moved any closer. “What I said was completely out of line.”

Feeling more relieved than he should have, he let his pen drop out of his hand. He was sitting on the opposite side of the desk, on a stool. “Yeah, well I seriously doubt you had the monopoly on things that were completely out of line. I, uh, shouldn’t have said that stuff to you. It wasn’t appropriate.”

She didn’t disagree. But she didn’t agree, either. “It’s just strange.”

“What is?”

“Being told...”

Ah. Suddenly he got it. “That you’re attractive?”

She sighed, flushing again. “Will you stop that?”

He shouldn’t have been saying any of this, either, but it was much too late. He sat further back on the stool, gesturing towards her. “What do you want me to do? Lie? Say ‘hey Carter, you’re one ugly chick’? Not gonna happen.”

“‘Chick’”?

“You’re repeating everything I say again.”

She rolled her eyes. “Only because you keep *saying* these-”

“Carter!” He watched as she slammed her mouth shut. Standing up, he winced a little as he moved off of the stool and slowly walked around the desk. “Look, you’re an attractive woman. You’re just going to have to deal with that. And speaking of which,” he paused a few feet away from her, “why *do* you have trouble dealing with it? Ninety-five per cent of the time you’re the most confident, secure woman I know. What gives?” Jack couldn’t quite believe he was talking about this to her, and that he actually felt okay about it.

Well, not entirely okay, but definitely more okay than yesterday.

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you’re – quite obviously – not a woman.”

Did he really have to feel so damned pleased about the way she phrased that?

Apparently so. “I’m not, no.”

She nodded. “So just trust me. It’s a female thing. Specifically, a female working in the military thing.”

Huh. He waved his right hand through the air slowly. “So...Fraiser has this too?”

“Kind of,” she shrugged, glancing around the room. “How’s it going?”

He didn’t argue with the change in subject; he was still reeling internally from the fact that he’d said any of that to her at all. What the heck was wrong with him?

And the fact that it wasn’t bothering him as much as it should be bothered him even more.

Wait, that made no sense.

Though she’d been there the previous day, he gave her a brief tour of the room (“...this is where I sit, and this is where Jonas sits. And eats.” “Continuously?”). She asked some questions, he answered what he could; when he finished picking up a pile of books he’d knocked over, he turned around only to discover ‘someone’ had drawn four stick figures in the middle of his chalk-drawn Stargate while she innocently stared at the ceiling.

She asked if she could stay for a while.

After recovering from his goldfish impression... “Uh, sure. If you want. Don’t you have anything else to do?” He really didn’t mean that the way it sounded.

Thankfully, she seemed to realise that. “Well, I’ve got about as far as I’m going to get on the device at the moment. Waiting for some tests to come back and I’ve already updated General Hammond, so...”

“Major Carter.”

It was Jonas. Walking into the room. Smiling widely.

“Jonas,” she turned to him and nodded.

“Hey,” Jack meandered back to his chair. “You don’t mind if Carter hangs out here for a while, right?”

“Not at all,” he shrugged happily, “the, uh...” he was obviously searching for a specific term. “...more the merrier?” They both nodded, and he treated them to a satisfied grin as he sat on his own stool, carefully balancing the plate he was carrying onto the table.

As Carter headed off to the other side of the room to drag over another stool, Jack leant towards him. “You were gone for a while.”

He nodded towards the plate. “I was hungry.”

It was a valid excuse. For Jonas it was an extremely valid excuse. But Jack couldn’t help that but notice that for the next few hours, he didn’t even touch the plate.

*

Having a third person helped. The very fact that she didn’t normally do this kind of work meant that she could see things from a different – and sometimes useful – perspective. Kinda like him.

And he was really enjoying the fact that they had that in common. That for once they were both more or less seeing things from an outsider’s perspective. That they were working together in what wasn’t a military situation.

It was nice. It was different. It was-

“That’s it, I’m beat. I gotta get to bed.”

-leaving?

On the stool just to his right, she yawned, stretched and contorted her body into frankly amazing positions, probably not having the faintest clue of the drooling audience she’d attained in those few seconds.

“Giving up so early, Carter?” That was the Jack O’Neill version of “I really, really, don’t want you to go.”

“Hey, I’ve been up for...” she lifted her wrist, studying her watch, “...wow, a lot of hours.”

Jack held up a hand, trying to hide his disappointment. “Don’t tell me. I think it’s better that I don’t know.”

Standing, she moved her head, using her neck muscles as she sighed absently. “You’re not coming with?”

Coming with? To bed?

Going to bed with Carter?

Okay, he simply had to ignore the double meaning and pretend that he hadn’t realised it at all – because from the way her eyes widened, she certainly had. “Uh, no. I wanna see if I can get anymore of this to make sense before I head off. ‘Night.”

“‘Night,” she responded, already backing out of the room, the relaxed atmosphere they’d enjoyed for most of the day rapidly diminishing. “Sir. Jonas.”

“Major.”

And then she was gone.

When Jack dragged his attention back to the only other occupant in the room, he was studying him. “What?”

Jonas shook his head. “Nothing,”

It wasn’t nothing, not by a long shot. Jonas had always been a quick study, and he’d picked up so many human characteristics already that it was hard to remember that he *was* an alien sometimes. And Jack didn’t entirely believe his story from earlier...but if he was right that meant Jonas would have come back, heard them talking, and then decided to give them more time alon...e...

Jack stared at the plate that had only recently lost its contents. “You weren’t hungry earlier, were you?”

Jonas turned over another page in the book he was reading, never raising his head. “No.”

Damn.

*

"O'Neill,"

Ow.

*Ow*.

Ow!

Oh, falling asleep on the desk was a really *bad* idea...

Jack tried to sit up properly but his back was still screaming at its mistreatment (something along the lines of "How *dare* you do this to me? Just for that, watch as I poke this red hot poker into your muscles."), so instead of actually moving from where he was, slumped over a pile of books, he very gently raised his head up and drowsily opened his eyes.

Teal'c.

It wasn't a surprise. "Hey." Mmm, there was that lovely morning taste in his mouth.

His buddy nodded, then surveyed Jack's situation. "Do you not find that uncomfortable?"

"Extremely," Jack murmured as he winced, feeling a spasm of pain despite the fact he was doing his best not to move. Ah, he might as well get it over with. "You think you can help me sit up?"

Without responding verbally, Teal'c moved until he was on Jack's side of the desk. Once there, with a firm grip on both Jack's back and front, he finally spoke. "Prepare yourself."

"Right." Jack nodded then stopped, realising just how painful that activity was, "I'm prep-AGH!"

He may have been up, but apparently his back was even more pissed at him.

Once sure that Jack was going to be able to sit upright without tumbling off the chair in a pained heap, Teal'c released his hold on him.

This time he studied the books spread across the table. "How is the translation proceeding?"

"Not," Jack's right hand had moved until it was pressing just above the base of his spine, "bad," he gasped. Man, how could that feel bad and good at the same time? Probably the pleasure/pain theory, he mused.

"Are you any closer to determining precisely what information the books contain?"

Wasn't that the same question? "Kind of." Rub, rub, *there*. Oooooo... "Well you know how it looks as if somebody was translating the Ancient's language into their own?" He wasn't sure how much Teal'c had been privy to, but when he nodded his understanding Jack continued. "That's looking more and more likely. Certain glyphs and characters are being repeated in a particular way, though the beginning seems to be one fat mess. As for what it actually says...well, there are lots of words that we're able to understand, we're just not understanding exactly what they mean without a proper context. For example," eager to make his point, he reached for a book and instantly regretted it. Muttering, he subsequently thanked Teal'c when he passed the book to him. "This word," he pointed to the appropriate glyph, "as far as we can tell means-"

"Diffuse," Teal'c interrupted.

Jack paused. It was easy to forget that Teal'c had experience with this stuff too. "Dissolve," Jack corrected. "But we're not sure what it's in relation to. Was there something on that planet that 'dissolved' all those people and someone was keeping a record of what happened?" Ick.

Teal'c's frown showed that he found the idea unlikely - as did Jack. "Though the inhabitants of P7R 327 appear to have left some time ago, it is likely that the books containing the Ancient's language are much older."

Jack had presumed much the same, and as he spied an empty coffee mug on top of one of said books, he guiltily picked it up despite the pain in his back. No doubt when the 'experts' finally got their hands on them, they'd wanna run one of those carbon dating tests or something.

"And besides that, O'Neill, if all of the inhabitants did 'dissolve', who would have been left behind to keep such a record?" Ah. Good point. "Hey, I didn't say it was the *right* theory,"

Teal'c, looking more than a little amused, tilted his head up. "Is this all the rest you had last night O'Neill?"

"No," he replied defensively, glancing away, "there was that twenty minute snooze when Jonas suddenly went off on a naquadriah tangent." He couldn't even remember why the guy had started talking about it - and frankly, he didn't want to.

"Then you require several hours of suitable rest."

"I was unconscious. That counts as rest."

"I do not agree."

"You've had less. And worse."

"I have the healing powers of a Goa'uld symbiote. You do not."

Yeah, thank the 'real' God for that. If the only way to win was to declare that he wished he had a snake himself, this was one argument he was prepared to lose. "Okay, okay. I'm going." The people on his team were relentless. Kinda. He had a vague recollection of Jonas saying something about needing to sleep, and that he really should get some too. He'd waved him off, wanting to keep going for a while, feeling like he was just on the cusp of...

...something he hadn't discovered yet.

Sighing, he stood up.

Oh yeah. Bad back.

Cursing, muttering, stumbling, he hobbled out of the room.

Teal'c didn't say a word.

*

Four hours later, he lay in a happy daze in one of the guest quarters. Despite his own instincts warning him to stay well away from there, the pain had been so bad that in the end he'd surrendered and gone to the infirmary.

For once he was happy he had. Fraiser's drugs had most definitely taken the pain away, and ensured he'd had a full three hours uninterrupted sleep. And he would have just been nearing his fourth uninterrupted hour if something hadn't interrupted him.

Suddenly hit with the certain yet unverified feeling that he wasn't alone, Jack opened his eyes.

Carter was standing in the doorway, grasping the handle, eyes wide. "I, er, sorry sir. I didn't mean to...Janet spoke to me, and I was just wondering how you were doing. Didn't realise you were actually sleep-"

"'s okay, Carter. I was done." It was a complete lie. He was unbelievably comfortable, barely aware of his body at all. Warm, secure... "Should probably get up. Don't want to get any more snooze time or I'll *never* fall asleep tonight." He waited until she nodded, and then forced himself to move. Planting his right hand onto the bed, he pushed his body up, wincing as his back protested. It was nowhere near as bad as it'd been earlier, but it still wasn't happy.

Carter offered her services...her 'helping him to *stand*' services, immediately. Firmly grasping his hand, bracing her weight through her feet against the floor, and pulling until he was up.

"Thanks," he murmured, embarrassed. Reminding her of how old he was getting was precisely what he didn't want to do.

"Happens to me sometimes," she confessed, surprising him when she shrugged. "I *may* have fallen asleep in my lab on more than one occasion."

"Heard about that, huh?"

"You know Teal'c. Can't keep his mouth shut."

Jack grinned. "Oh yeah; resident base gossip."

Smiling in response she shook her head, only to end up looking at their hands.

Which were still together.

"Uh," he carefully plucked his free as if it had never been there, "so are you joining us again today?"

She too, acted as if she'd never even helped him stand. "As long as there's no objection,"

Hmm. Reasons for Carter *not* to sit with him all day?

Nope, couldn't think of a thing.

'Us' turned out to be just the two of them. Jonas was still asleep and Teal'c apparently thought it better not to interfere, so after a quick freshen up (and a quick breath freshening on his part), they arrived back at the office he'd left not so long ago.

After they sat, Jack quickly began going over what they'd discovered after she'd left, and the words or phrases they'd managed to translate. She listened, nodded, offered opinions; generally everything she'd done the previous day, though she did seem a lot more relaxed than she had been when she'd left.

But then, so was he.

Knowing it had everything and nothing to do with the lack of Jonas, he happily continued his work, for once in his life using her as his assistant.

She didn't seem to mind.

Sometime around 1000, he wondered if Jonas was ever going to show up. But then he discovered a new word, Carter expressed her delight, and he stopped thinking about Jonas.

"This doesn't make any sense," he said, some ten minutes later.

"What doesn't?" she queried, turning around from writing on the board, chalk in hand.

"Well, if we figured it out right, this phrase here," he gestured towards the page he was reading from, "means 'dissolve the associates'."

"Dissolve the *what*?"

His thoughts exactly. "I know," He shook his head, still staring at the text, actually wanting to *understand*. "Listen," Jack continued talking, reading directly from the book in the original language, "Relaw treinrey peple." Relaw treinrey peple? Sounded like something out of-

"Sir?" Quiet, unsure. Freaked.

Frowning, he tore his gaze away from the book.

And he understood. Oh God, oh God, he understood.

She was...fading. Vanishing. *Dissolving*.

Shit! "Carter," he pushed up and away from his stool, unaware of the noise as it tipped over from the force and thumped to the floor. She was barely tangible now, see-through, her face a picture of shock and terrified fascination, as she looked down at her own body disappearing. "Carter!"

"Sir!" It was the closest he'd ever heard to a sob coming out of her.

He should have been moving, alerting someone, trying to grab her, stop her from going wherever the hell it was she was going...but all he could do was stare, horrified, as he lost her.

When she was gone there was nothing left to show that she had ever been there, except for the single piece of chalk, clattering to the cold cement floor.

*

His hand impacted against the alert button, causing the base to flare into life. Lights flashed, klaxons wailed, and Jack flew out of the corridor and back into the room, helpless.

"Carter!"

Nothing had changed in the short time he was gone. She hadn't come back.

She was gone.

Grabbing the phone, he barely hesitating for a response before barking into it. "Get Hammond to Jonas's office. *Now*!"

Throwing the phone down - not caring if it actually hung up or not - he began moving about the room. Underneath the desk, behind the chalkboard, folded up in the cupboard...she was nowhere.

Booted feet echoing quickly along the corridor indicated that help was coming. Jack was searching under the table again when they arrived. He stuck his head up just long enough to speak. "Major Carter has disappeared."

Some random SF who looked way too young responded. "Disappeared, sir?"

"Yes, *disappeared*." Dammit, he didn't have time for anyone to question him. "I want sweeps of every level of this base with TER's starting with this room. *Now*." He really had no way of knowing if TER's would be effective, if what had happened to her was even remotely like that, but...

God, he couldn't *think*.

He checked behind the chalkboard again.

Jonas barrelled into the room, narrowly avoiding a collision with a SF. "Colonel?"

The cupboard again. "Carter's vanished."

"Vanished?"

Dammit! He explained what'd happened, punctuating his description by randomly thumping down whatever it was he was holding (yeah, as if she'd be under a book). He'd just finished when Hammond strode in, with Teal'c at his side.

"Report, Colonel."

Okay, *this* explanation he wasn't going to mutter about. He explained, in as thorough and precise detail as he could, exactly what happened. Teal'c immediately offered to assist in the search; Jack recommended that he co-ordinate it, and Teal'c left to do just that.

Jack hated standing there, just doing nothing. He needed to *move*. "General, request permission to join the search."

"Hang on, Jack, just a minute. Now you said you were reading aloud from a book when she disappeared."

He nodded. "Yes, sir." His hands hung by his sides, tapping against his legs.

"Which one?"

"This one." He dived towards the book, still open, and turned it until it was facing Hammond and Jonas, who was peering over the General's shoulder. "I was just reading from it and she...disappeared."

He didn't like thinking about the implication. It could be a coincidence that she'd disappeared just after he'd spoken those damn alien words, but it was highly unlikely and if that was the case...he was responsible for whatever the hell had happened to her.

Him.

Some choice. Either he'd said something that caused her to vanish - literally - or something else weird and bizarre happened at precisely the same time.

No possibility would be left unconsidered, un-investigated.

Nothing.

The Too Young SF returned, grasping a TER that was already activated. Jack immediately forgot Hammond, and instinctively stepped to one side in case he was standing in front of her (how *stupid* was that?).

The SF aimed the TER around the room, the only sound being the faint hum emanating from the weapon itself. Jack tracked its progress with his eyes, desperately searching for some sign, any sign, that she was there. A vague outline, maybe just part of a leg materialising.

After two minutes of searching, two minutes of silently going back and forth, and waving that damn weapon in the air, they had to concede that she wasn't there.

"All right," Jack ordered, "go help Teal'c with the search."

Too Young stood to attention as he lowered the weapon. "Yes, sir."

"I'll help too," Jonas volunteered, beginning to turn away.

"No," Jack replied, stopping him from leaving, "if this...language really is what made her disappear, we'll need you working on this." He stared at the book spread across the table. This needed to be fixed.

"If that's true we'll also need you working on it." He pointed out. "Colonel."

Hammond nodded. "Agreed. As it was you who translated the words, Colonel, you're an obvious choice to keep working on the translation. If the search shows up nothing I'll draft the rest of our linguists in - all of them. Whatever it takes."

"Thank you, sir."

"In the meantime I'll contact our allies; see if for some reason they're responsible, or know of anything else that could be responsible for this."

Allies. Tok'ra.

Jacob.

Shit, Jacob.

"Yes sir."

Hammond nodded and then was gone, leaving Jack and Jonas behind.

Jack, who couldn't seem to move, couldn't stop staring at the floor.

"Colonel?"

It felt incredibly wrong; not being out there with the others while the base was on alert. He should have been searching, *finding*.

"Colonel."

But he had to believe that they could find the answer, had to believe that they would find her - even if it meant he had to keep going through the books for the rest of his life.

His feet moved. "Let's get started."

*

He wasn't surprised when the search of the base turned up nothing. He wasn't surprised when the linguists turned up, glared at him as if he were lower than the dirt on their boots, and took over Jonas' lab.

He wasn't surprised when the first week, then month passed with no great discoveries. They'd made a few advancements, figured out a few things they hadn't known before, but nothing that'd help bring her back.

He wasn't surprised when Hammond cornered him, tried to reason with him, then *ordered* him to the infirmary.

Jack didn't see what the problem was. He ate. He washed. He shaved. He read. That was pretty much all he did, but it wasn't as if he'd drastically lost weight or was close to slitting his wrists.

But it was an order, so he went.

There were always orders.

He sat on the edge of one of Fraiser's bed, trying, as always lately, to figure out some of the translation in his head. Figures and text raced through his mind, trying to connect, trying to *mean* something.

Until she shone the penlight in his eyes.

Blinking, he glanced up at her face. She was perfectly professional; had even smiled a little when he first came in.

But he knew the truth. "I know you blame me."

The penlight paused as she lowered it, shining against his cheek. Eventually she clicked it off and calmly placed it in her breast pocket. "No I don't, Colonel."

"Yes, you do," he replied. "You're well aware that it's not rational - after all, it's not like I did it on *purpose*. But I did do it. She's gone, because of me."

"I suspect," she continued in the same tone of voice, picking up the clipboard she'd earlier placed next to him on the bed, "that the only one here blaming anyone for anything is you." Sliding her pen off from where it'd been slipped onto the edge of the clipboard, she noted something down before finally meeting his gaze. "Have you been feeling particularly tired?"

Jack was saved from Fraiser's latest inquisition when a familiar voice echoed through the PA system - accompanied, as always, by the blaring of klaxons.

"Unscheduled off world activation, repeat, unscheduled off world activation! General Hammond to the control room!"

On instinct Jack immediately slid off the bed, taking long strides towards the exit...when he realised exactly who would be arriving. Sure, it *could* have been a Goa'uld attack, it *could* have been one of their other allies; it *could* have been anyone.

Somehow Jack knew otherwise.

And apparently so did Fraiser, speaking quietly to his back.

"It's him, isn't it?"

She was proven right when Jack walked into the gate room a few minutes later, to find Jacob shaking hands with Hammond. It wasn't a surprise. It wasn't. After all, they had tried to contact him - and the Tok'ra in general - several times. That didn't stop Jack from wincing when he saw him.

Catching site of him, Jacob grinned. "Jack! Good to see you." He pulled his hand away from the General, offering it to Jack.

Oh, God. Swallowing back something, Jack slid his hand into Jacob's as he kept talking.

"I was just telling George why we've been incommunicado lately. We've had to lay low while..." something in either his or Hammond's face must have given something away; Jacob's hand stopped moving, his expression drooping, "where's Sam?"

*

The briefing to get Jacob up to speed had not gone well. Jack had spent most of it with his gaze fixed firmly on the table, not speaking unless it was absolutely necessary. He hated that - it didn't feel like *him* - but what he did feel was so damn guilty that he could barely look anyone in the eye.

Yet when it was over, he wasn't surprised when everyone else left the room; when Hammond retreated to his office, and Teal'c and Jonas strategically ran off somewhere else, leaving just the two of them.

He'd known this was coming. And for this, he couldn't *not* look him in the eye. So sitting up straight in his chair, he lifted his head and looked at Jacob.

For his part, her dad repeated a phrase he'd already repeated several times in the past twenty minutes. "A book? She disappeared after you read something out from a *book*?"

Jack said the only thing he could. "I am so, *so*, sorry."

Standing up, pushing his chair away from the table, Jacob planted one hand onto the desk, and with the other he pointed at Jack. "How many times have I told you people to be more careful? You still haven't learned not to mess with things that are so beyond you-"

"Hey, that was always technology you were talking about! This was a book! Not a deathglider, or a mothership - a God damned *book*!"

"Which makes it the perfect weapon!" Jacob argued. "Are you really telling me that you haven't learnt by now that something so apparently benign can turn round and kick you in the ass?"

He stood up, more or less matching his pose. "I'm sorry I'm not *psychic*, Jacob, but yes, okay - we screwed up! But maybe instead of bitching at me you can try and find out if you can help! The Nox don't know anything and the Asgard are as absent as usual. If there's anything the Tok'ra can do..."

Jacob's hand moved. The one not resting on the table now lowered to join the other one, his shoulders hunching forward. When he eventually stood up straight and responded, it was with the distinctive twang of Selmak's voice. "I apologise, Colonel O'Neill. Jacob is...distressed."

"Understandably." Jack didn't blame him one iota.

"I will contact the Tok'ra immediately to ascertain if any of them have encountered similar occurrences, but I feel I should stress that I find it unlikely - I have heard nothing about this personally prior to today. With your permission we will also have our linguists go over the books."

"Of course," 'permission' wasn't even an issue, "whatever you need."

Nodding, Selmak turned away, immediately heading for the stairs down to the control room.

Suddenly compelled to speak, Jack did just that. "Sel...Jacob?"

One or both turned back to look at him at the top of the stairs.

"I'll do whatever the hell it takes to bring her back." He felt raw, exposed - but he didn't know anything else to say.

It was the human voice that responded, the hand on the human body grasping tightly onto the railing. "I know, Jack. And it's just as well - you may have to."

* Not that he was getting much satisfaction from anything lately.

"O'Neill."

Like Teal'c, for example. Normally his presence might have been reassuring, welcome. At the moment it only served to highlight his own inadequacies.

"Am I right in assuming that your conversation with Jacob Carter did not go well?"

Move, punch; breathe. "He's gonna see if he can help us out." Breathe.

"That is not what I'm referring to."

He'd suspected as much.

Move, punch; breathe. "He blames me."

"I do not believe he does. His daughter is missing - he is in pain."

Near-constant pressure on the front of his fist. It was hurting, without the gloves, but it was meant to. "Yes, he is."

"He is not the only one."

Jack stopped moving, breathing hard, grasping either side of the bag. His head leant forward almost of its own volition, pressing against the soft surface. "No," he muttered darkly, "he's not." He pushed away, releasing the bag, making it swing as he walked away. "I gotta go. Have some reading to do."

"O'Neill."

He hadn't looked at him once. Hadn't looked at him the entire time.

He still didn't now. "What?"

"I would recommend a shower first."

*

At the end of the second month, Hammond told him SG-1 had to go back into active duty. He'd complained, ranted, raved, but had ultimately known that any argument was futile. They weren't giving up on Carter - not by a long shot - but SG-1 still had to produce other benefits for the SGC. Given how much the place cost to run, they couldn't afford to let the rest of the team sit around and - in the eyes of the Appropriations Committee - do nothing.

Jack understood; he really did. And he could still keep working on bringing her back - when he wasn't off-world or performing his usual duties, he was in Jonas' office, reading over the books.

That meant, of course, that he had to deal with Her Replacement.

The fact of the matter was he wasn't going to be especially fond of *anyone* who was Her Replacement (he'd learnt that with the Jonas thing). He knew, logically, that Captain Patrick Hensher was a perfectly nice guy and an extremely capable officer (even though he was a scientist).

That didn't seem to stop Jack from bitching about him to Hammond at every given opportunity.

He had to give the General credit, he really did - he handled every conversation with Jack with grace and dignity...up until the moment he reached his limit. "Jack, learn to work with the man. That's an order."

Jonas had practically bonded with the guy overnight (was there anyone Jonas *wasn't* friends with?), and Teal'c? Well Teal'c rarely judged anyone. Given the background he came from, he'd told Jack a long time ago that it didn't seem appropriate for him not to give everyone at least a first chance.

So Jack learned to work with him. Maybe even like him. A little. But he only gave him that first chance because, a) he respected Hammond too much, and b) he knew Carter would want him to.

Life went on. SG-1 went through the gate, did what they did best, and after they returned; after they were examined and wrote reports, and were officially off-duty...he continued reading.

Three months later, it happened.

*

"What do you mean they're taking the books away?!"

His words echoed loudly around Hammond's office and - he suspected - well into the corridor.

"Exactly what it sounds like," the General responded, getting up from his chair then stepping around his desk *and* Jack to close the door. With that done, he turned back to face him, hesitated...and spoke. "It's been five months, Jack."

Jack's planned argument died before it ever reached his lips, his mouth - in fact, his whole body - drooping slightly.

He knew how long it'd been. Every day he crossed another number off the calendar in his office, but that was the point. It was every day - singular. Not every month, or every fortnight. When he thought about it, it wasn't that Carter had been gone for five months, it was just that today was another day when she wasn't back yet.

It was easier that way.

But when Hammond said five months...*five months*... "Nellis?" he asked, suddenly tired. So completely, unbelievably tired. He slept every night, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd actually dreamt.

Hammond nodded.

Area 51. It made sense. That was where all their discoveries - technological or otherwise - eventually ended up. That was where a majority of their R&D was done.

"They have resources there," Hammond told him quietly, "resources that we don't have. Maybe they can find something we haven't."

What resources? The books had been poked, prodded and scanned countless times at the SGC. And presuming the information inside could be copied without ruining them, what if they were meant to be in book form? What if he missed something vital because they weren't? They were alien books, after all.

"You can't expect me to stop looking for her."

"Jack..."

"She's a member of my team, General. If those books are going, then so am I."

"Area 51 is specifically for research and development. That's not your job, Jack. I understand your position, really. But I can't get you assigned there just because you want to be."

Want? He almost laughed. There'd been so much he wanted over the last six years. "General-"

"It's not like we're giving up," he interrupted, "I'll ensure that we'll have our absolute best people working on this."

"Funny. I thought we already had our 'best people' working on it." They were the ones who kept trying to kick him out of Jonas' office, claiming he was in the way. He'd learned to ignore them.

Sighing, the General rubbed a hand on the side of his head. "I've been fighting them for a while - they wanted the books back weeks ago - but I've gone as far as I can. I'm sorry."

Under normal circumstances, Jack would have appreciated that, and Hammond's confession wasn't any surprise at all.

But these weren't normal circumstances.

"So that's it? You're really telling me to stop looking?"

Hammond could have got pedantic about the terminology, the specifics; about the fact that Jack was taking his *far* too personally.

He didn't. "I'm sorry."

Jack didn't remember anything that happened over the next few minutes, though he must have started walking because he only really became aware of himself again when he was lying on a bed in one of the base quarters.

His mind raced with letters, figures and ideas.

For a full ninety seconds, he actually considered kidnapping or coercing Pearce into helping him break into Nellis. He had, after all, been assigned there for several years. Sure, the clearance codes would have changed, but a guy like Pearce would have known all the ins and outs.

They would have found a way.

He would have found a way.

But would that really had made the difference? What it for some reason the books weren't responsible? Or what if they were, but all they could do was make her disappear?

For the first time he openly acknowledged the concept that *she might never come back*.

No more Carter. Ever.

And the most terrifying thing of all?

It wasn't even unthinkable.

It was all too easy to imagine life without wandering into her lab and finding her enthralled with some new doohickey, without arguing over the last dish of jello just to try and aggravate her (not that she ever fell for it), without deliberately misunderstanding something she was saying, without her fighting the Goa'uld, covering the team or thinking up something brilliant to save their asses.

Way, way too easy.

The fear that he'd been trying to deny, suppress, ignore: suddenly it running through his mind over and over - shewasn'tcomingbackshewasn'tcomingbackshewasn'tcomingback.

His actions then, though completely unplanned, were the only actions he could have even considered taking.

Staring up and the ceiling - though not seeing it, not seeing *anything* - he spoke a single name.

"Daniel?"

********

Daniel had never responded. Even though - without knowing or understanding how - Jack knew he was there. Knew he was watching him, trying to support and reassure him.

But he'd never even responded.

Not.

Once.

Until now.

So yeah, Jack figured the anger was justified.

"What happened then?"

Jack shrugged, looking out towards the water but still - after all these years - not seeing anything. "Not much. I tried to get transferred to Nellis, but it didn't happen. So I stayed only as long as I had to. Until we'd heard from all our allies that they couldn't help us. Not even the Asgard when they came out of their self-imposed exile - something to do with 'the cycles of the universe' or something. You ask me, I think they were all going through the menopause at the same time." It was a lame joke, he was well aware of that. But it was needed for what he had to say next... "I stayed until Jacob gave up." Something about that; something about Jacob finally giving in to the idea that she was gone forever...something about it had ended him.

"So I left. Came up here. End of story."

"That's it?" Daniel asked. "That's everything?"

"Everything." He nodded, his throat dry.

The reason for the doubt in Daniel's voice soon became clear. "I know about your cabin. I know what the inside looks like."

Finally moving, licking his lips, Jack blinked.

Paper. Reams and reams of paper. On every available surface. Counters, tables, chairs; the end of his bed. The floor. Pinned up on the wall. Notebooks full of scrawled writing; even an ancient computer, its hard drive almost full after years of typing and theorising and trying to do the kind of thing she'd always excelled at.

"They wouldn't let me keep the books," Jack finally explained feeling as if, for some reason, he *had* to. "They wouldn't let me keep them. But before they took them away..."

"You made copies."

Jacob giving up on her may have ended him - him, Jack O'Neill, the man who was still bothered about *living* his life - but this? This part of him?

It was never going to die.

"They wouldn't let me keep the books," he repeated, wondering when he'd started acting so much like a stalker.

Not that the idea really bothered him. Not that much of anything really bothered him anymore. There were rarely people around to aggravate him; he knew nothing about what was being shown on TV these days, and hadn't picked a newspaper up in years.

For all he knew, Kinsey could be President.

Even that didn't bother him. The single thing that did was the reason Daniel was there at all. "So can you help her? Can she still be...helped?"

"I told you before, I don't know," Daniel murmured, "but I can try. At the very least, we could find out what happened to her."

Try. Could. Her.

Part of him didn't want to know.

Part of him felt guilty that it didn't want to know.

But then Daniel told him to stand up, and after so long, so many years where he'd had only one goal and no one to tell him what to do, he stood up.

He reached out.

Daniel touched his hand.

And they were gone.

*

Carter's lab.

He hadn't felt anything at all, but suddenly he was in Carter's lab. There'd been no sudden shift, no bright light; no darkness - but in a split second he'd moved from Northern Minnesota to beneath a mountain in Colorado Springs.

Except it wasn't Carter's lab anymore. Most of the machines were still there, but it...wasn't hers. Hadn't been for a long time.

He tried not to remember the last time he'd been there.

Daniel had pulled away already, moving to look at the books that were piled neatly on her desk.

Recognising them immediately - and their importance - Jack stepped towards the desk. "How...?"

Daniel shrugged. "Let's just say the next time Area 51 checks their inventory they're going to find a few things have gone missing."

Almost disbelieving, Jack stretched out a hand to check that, yup - they were real. "Is there anything you *can't* do?"

Daniel half-snorted. "Dare you to ask Oma that question." Before Jack could do anything at all, Daniel placed both hands on the pile of books, a steady glow emanating from his fingers that soon took over his hands, the books, the entire room.

When Jack could see again, when he'd lowered the arm that'd been shading his eyes, Daniel was standing with his head bowed, his hands formed into fists at his sides.

"Where was she when it happened?"

"There," Jack pointed, still somewhat bewildered, "there was a chalkboard behind her at the time."

"Doesn't matter," Daniel replied, quickly moving to where he'd indicated. "Here?"

"More to the right." Something was going on.

He shifted. "Here?"

"Yeah." Something was definitely going on. Not that he didn't appreciate the hell out of Daniel's urgency (and not that he didn't feel it himself), but still...something was definitely going on. Frowning, he turned to peer inconspicuously at the security camera, before turning back to Daniel. "You're worried about someone seeing us."

"You could say that. Not anyone who works here, though."

Jack began to understand. "Oma and the rest of your buddies?"

"I wouldn't call them that."

It was funny; he may have been an 'ascended being' now (whatever the hell that meant), but the way he was moving, reacting, seemingly absent yet aware of absolutely everything around him...it was so fundamentally *Daniel*, that for a moment Jack actually found himself smiling.

For a moment.

"Intruders on level 19, repeat, intruders on level 19! This is not a drill! Security to section twenty-seven!"

Crap.

As those too familiar klaxons sang their song, Jack spoke. "Maybe we should have a word with Hammond." Eager as he was, he'd rather not get arrested anytime soon.

Daniel shook his head. "He's not in charge here anymore, Jack. And I don't know about you, but I'd rather not get into any explanations right about now."

More crap. But he wasn't about to feel guilty for not knowing that. He wasn't. "Then what?"

Almost shouting to be heard over the klaxons, Daniel nodded towards the table. "Read from the book."

Shaking his head, Jack followed Daniel's gaze. "It won't work. We tried that." Endless, countless times.

"But you didn't have what you need."

The sound of booted feet echoed into the room from the corridor, and Jack turned towards the closed metal door just as someone started thumping against it. Surprised when it didn't open, he looked back at Daniel. "Your doing?"

He didn't respond to that. "Read from the book. Read exactly what you read when she disappeared."

Grabbing the book from the table, Jack flicked it open to the right page. He knew precisely where to look; though he hadn't actually touched any of the books in years, he knew them as well as the inside of his cabin.

But he paused. The way Daniel was acting...it wasn't just the urgency. The fact that he knew exactly what he was doing...no doubt, not a single drop of hesitation...suddenly, Jack knew.

He lifted his head. "You know this is going to work. You've known ever since you came to the cabin."

The klaxons kept blaring. The thumps got louder.

"So why the denial? Why pretend that you're not sure if it's going to work?"

More questions Daniel apparently wasn't about to respond to. "I watched you when you were trying to bring her back; when you were translating. *You*. And though you made sense of most of the books, it never gave you the answers you needed, did it, Jack?" That was the killer; the thing he'd tried not to let himself consider. He'd worked so hard and so long and... "You know why?"

He did. "The answers aren't in there."

Daniel smiled. "And the harder you worked, the further away you got from finding her. For once, the thing you needed was the thing you were never going to have."

A torch started cutting through the metal door.

All that time. All those years. All for nothing. "What was it? What the hell did I need?"

A tip of the head: an almost apologetic gesture. "Ignorance."

It didn't make sense. None of it made sense. God, he was tired. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept without dreaming. "*What*?"

"Words have power, Jack. But sometimes the most powerful of all are those that we don't understand."

Headache. Pounding and blaring and burning and-"You're still not telling me something." He could figure this out. He could. Lifting the book in his right hand, he gestured towards Daniel. "If I say this stuff to you...the same way I said it to her..."

"It'll bring her back."

"But why? Why will it bring her back instead of making you disappear?" There was a silence - well, almost silence - for a good five seconds before Jack realised just how *stupid* he was being. Oh, shit. "You..."

"There's a balance." Daniel explained calmly. "An order to things. And for her to come back..."

Horrified, Jack shook his head. "Don't make me choose." Because he was Jack O'Neill, he was military; he was *him*. And he'd choose.

The stench of burning metal began to fill the air, its odour irritating his nostrils.

"It's my decision; my choice. I want to do this."

"Daniel..."

"It'll work this time. Trust me. I'm special." He grinned, almost laughing.

That he was.

But then Daniel was moving, clutching his stomach and groaning as his bent over.

Instinctively stepping forward, Jack reached towards him. "Dan-"

A sudden force pushed him back almost to the other side of the room - and there was no doubting who was responsible.

"Jack, read the God damned book! NOW! Before Oma-" He cursed, clutching his stomach again; his face straining, almost red.

There was noise coming from everywhere. The klaxons, the torch; and the sound of wind coming from somewhere that was becoming increasingly louder than everything else with each passing second. "Leave him the fuck alone!" he yelled, and everything was bright, bright and hot, and he couldn't see his feet; he could barely see anything, and the wind was everywhere; outside him, inside him and his voice was gone it was gone until-

"Relaw treinrey peple!"

-it stopped.

No noise.

No wind.

No light.

No klaxons.

No torch.

But Daniel was gone.

*

She was exactly how he remembered her; a moment he'd re-lived a thousand times in his mind.

Carter was standing where Daniel had been; her arms out-stretched, staring down at them. Then, bending them several times, she clenched her hands into fists and slowly lowered them. "Okay. That was weird. I was actually a little concerned there for a mo-" She lifted her head.

And for the first time in six years he actually saw her face.

Moving. Animated. *Alive*.

Jack had absolutely no idea what to do next. He'd imagined this moment so many times, and now that it was here...

She spoke again, frowning at him. *Frowning* at *him*. "Weren't you in uniform just a minute ago? When did the door close? And why on Earth is someone cutting through it?"

The step he took forward must have been almost entirely subconscious; all he could think was that she was there, she was back, and-

"Sir? What happened? You look..."

He paused barely two feet away, and after all those years, all that time of imagining, he could only think of doing one thing.

He prodded her.

His lifted his right hand up, extended his index finger, and prodded her left shoulder.

And he felt it. Felt *her*. She wasn't some illusion, hallucination or hologram. She was actually there.

"Sir?" It was also plainly evident that she had no idea she'd been missing for the last six years. But that hardly mattered. Who cared if she didn't know? Who cared if she hadn't aged a single day? Who cared if he suddenly looked so much older to her than he was supposed to?

Finally, finally, his voice worked.

"Hey."

*

All things considered, it was a bit of a let down.

Not Carter coming back of course - it didn't matter in the slightest which way *that* happened; the fact that it happened at all was perfect enough. There was simply no chance of there being any kind of disappointment.

No, it was after she came back. Since the SF's had finished burning through the door and thrown him into holding (though he'd had a few sympathetic glances from those who'd known him before).

It wouldn't have been so bad if he'd been locked up with Carter, but no, he was on his own. Again.

Oh, the irony.

Consequently he got to do a lot of thinking. Thinking was pretty much all he'd done these last six years, but now, this time, *finally*...it wasn't about how to get Carter back.

Instead, it was about how she was going to cope now that she was here.

When she'd returned he'd been a little too (a lot) happy (overjoyed) to really think over any consequences, but sitting in a holding cell on a lumpy mattress tended to put things into perspective. She'd been gone for six years, but apparently had no knowledge of that. As far as she was concerned, she'd looked down, something a little freaky had happened, and then she looked up. And in that moment, six years had passed for everyone except her.

Jack had to admit, that wasn't one of the outcomes he'd considered - especially the 'Carter not looking any older' part. Not that he could tell biologically, but purely from what he'd seen of her (seen her; he'd *seen* her) she looked exactly the same. No extra wrinkles, no other signs of age. It was like she'd been in stasis or something.

He couldn't help but wonder (so *not* for the first time) where she'd gone. Another reality? Some alien spaceship? Some kind of 'ascended' plane?

Suddenly his rampant happiness was dimmed.

Daniel.

Jack still didn't understand how Daniel'd done what he'd done - all he *had* been able to decipher was that it seemed the less you knew, the more 'powerful' the words were.

Was it just him, or was that some kind of oxymoron?

In any case, it was contradictory to the typical human perspective - knowledge being power, and all that. But then by now, they really should have learned to stop using human rules and perspectives to understand something alien. Of course the irony of that was that if they did do that, it wasn't particularly human behaviour.

Oy. Suddenly he understood why it was always Daniel, Carter or Jonas who did this kind of thinking.

As for the purpose of the books...well, that was something that had been discussed in great detail when he'd still be working at the SGC, and no doubt discussed even more so at Area 51 ever since.

Jack was willing to bet that still, no one had a clue.

Maybe they were a mistake. Maybe they didn't work properly, like the time machine thing the Ancients had built - this could be another of their screw-ups. Maybe they weren't meant to exist, or were meant for some other purpose. Or maybe they were a means of protection - to be used to help people hide from attack, while giving no clue where they were. Daniel hadn't mentioned either way, though the fact that he knew what to do at all made Jack suspect that - at least recently - he'd discovered some aspect of what the books were intended for.

Frustratingly, though Jack had eventually made sense (so to speak) of what most of the books said, there had never been any explanation for their existence in the first place. The person(s) who'd been translating them on P7R 327 had evidently known they were dangerous in some way - why else would they have been locked up? Yet that hadn't stopped him/her/it/them from really screwing things up and making *everyone* disappear.

In retrospect, he was actually quite lucky that it was only Carter who'd vanished (something he couldn't quite believe he thought).

And, perhaps most significantly at all, how did the books *know* just how much 'knowledge' you had?

Oh yeah. Oy.

So...as far he could understand it, Daniel was now where she'd been all this time. He could only hope that he wasn't aware of the passage of time the same way Carter hadn't been, his possibly ascended status (depending on what Oma did or didn't do) notwithstanding.

When he heard the beep and metallic clunk that confirmed someone was entering the holding room, he gaze shifted towards the door. When he saw a man he didn't know but whose insignia clearly showed the rank of General, he suddenly moved, standing to attention (old habits died hard and plus, he had kinda just 'appeared' in the guys base). "Sir."

He was a little shorter than Jack, with a full head of grey hair that was still clinging on to the odd brown strand here and there. He seemed to be in pretty good shape for his age, and hey - he was smiling. "Colonel Jack O'Neill?"

He shifted. "Retired."

Amused, he moved until he was standing just on the opposite side of the bars Jack was behind. "I'm General Stevenson. George told me a lot about you."

Jack's estimation of the guy went up a notch. And when the heck had Hammond retired, anyway? "Yes, sir."

"But I understand *you* have quite a story to tell *me*."

*

He'd wanted to ask about Carter. He'd wanted to know if Fraiser had given her the all clear; how she was dealing with what'd happened to her. Jack didn't doubt her abilities to deal with anything for a second - especially given everything they'd seen at the SGC - but this was big, even compared to what they were used to.

But he'd told Stevenson what he'd wanted to know. Being in charge of the facility the General was obviously well versed in the history of the SGC, and didn't need a lot of things explained - who Daniel was, why he ascended, how Carter vanished.

All he'd really needed to know what exactly what'd happened since Daniel had appeared at his cabin.

So Jack'd told him, and Stevenson had listened, and when it was done the General told him that, barring a few formalities, he'd be released within the next few hours.

Jack was just beginning to feel he'd got off rather lightly, when Stevenson spoke again.

"I do wish you'd come to me first, and asked for our help before just, uh, 'appearing' in the base. Would've saved everyone here a lot of concern."

Quite frankly, it was better than he deserved. "Yes, sir, and I apologise. But I was at the mercy of an ascended genius."

Chuckling, General Stevenson nodded thoughtfully. "Though something tells me that if you'd had the knowledge, you would have done this with or without the genius."

He had nothing to worry about anymore. He wasn't in the Air Force. He wasn't her commanding officer. Nothing to worry about at all. Right? "Probably, sir."

Stevenson left then, but as he walked out of the room, someone else walked in. In fact, a couple of someone else's.

"Colonel!"

"O'Neill."

Ah, it was good to be home.

*

When the door opened this time, it was Carter who stepped inside.

Jack stood and moved forward immediately, nearly colliding with the bars. There she was. Walking. Towards. Him.

He was never taking anything for granted again.

She paused just like Stevenson had done earlier, looking at him - expression unreadable.

His hands moved, and because he knew they were actually in danger of reaching through the bars he instead made sure they grabbed on to the bars, his whole body leaning towards them.

Glancing away to the left somewhere, she began to speak. "It's weird, you know. I've missed so much, but in a way it feels like nothing has changed. Janet, Teal'c and Jonas are still here...you're still here..." She paused, frowning heavily. "And I...haven't changed." It obviously bothered her but, in true Carter style, she just kept going. "But you brought me back."

He shook his head. "Daniel-"

"I know what Daniel did," she murmured, closing her eyes painfully, her throat clogged, "and I can never..." she changed subject suddenly, becoming angry, opening her eyes to look at him, "and I know I should be pissed at you, because you ran and you hid and you stopping living, and you stopped being *you*."

Woah.

She caught her breath. "Teal'c and Jonas told me. About going to see you. About trying to make you see sense."

"Well they should have known that last part wasn't gonna happen."

A smile. Oh God, a Carter smile.

The emotional impact of this, of her being alive, or her being here, was seriously starting to hit.

His hands tightened around the bars, his forehead moving forward to rest against the metal. She was so close...

"But I can't be mad," she whispered, stepping forward, matching his pose - except for instead of wrapping her hands around the bars, they covered his, "because you kept trying. You kept trying for all that time."

Her forehead was brushing his, his hands flexing beneath hers; he could feel the warmth of her body, smell her skin.

*Alive*.

"You have to understand," she murmured, "this is going to be hard for me. I've lost *six years*. You may not have been in the Air Force for a long time now, but to me you were giving me orders yesterday. You're still him. Still the Colonel."

"I'm not expecting-"

She looked at him knowingly.

"-hoping maybe," he amended. "But God, Carter, I'm not expecting anything. All that mattered was getting you back." Jack's hoarse, quiet voice forced out the words - ones that, for the first time, he didn't need to fear. "I would have kept trying forever."

She pulled away abruptly, and Jack barely had time to voice a complaint before he saw what she was doing.

"You had the key the whole damn time?!"

But then it didn't matter because she was cursing the key as it jammed, and then the door was open and she moved and he was holding her and she was holding him and she was warm and real and she was alive he was alive; and he could feel her body her face her hair and she was crying and he'd never been so happy to see her cry, knowing it was more proof that she was *there*. And it was perfect. It was Carter.

*

When he woke up, the first thing he saw was Carter's sleeping face.

Wow.

He'd wondered what this would be like: waking up with her next to him, not due to any mission or life-threatening situation. Just because they could.

They'd somehow squeezed onto the same bunk together, and apparently no one on base had thought it particularly worthwhile to disturb them (and thank God for that. Jack pitied the imaginary SF who would have tried to separate them). He was on his right side; she was on her left with her back to the wall.

Snoring.

Chuckling, thrilled just to be able to watch her, he lifted his left hand up, and with just his index finger, pushed a few strands of hair behind her ear. Her hair wasn't long - certainly not as long as she'd had in the past - but he was fascinated just with those few strands.

Until someone sighed. Or breathed, heavily.

Frowning, Jack lowered his hand and turned to his left as little as possible. When he saw who was standing just a few feet away, his instinct was to leap to his feet and state *very* emphatically that nothing happened (which was true - something he decided not to be disappointed about).

Jack managed to fight the instinct, realising soon enough that the man staring at them didn't particularly care right then anyway. That wasn't what mattered.

Still, Jack had questions. "Did we sleep through an off-world activation?"

Jacob shook his head, not looking at him. "Came by teltac. Is she-?"

"She's fine," he turned back towards her, gently touching her face and speaking a little louder. "Carter? Wakey wakey. You've got a visitor."

It was fascinating watching her wake up. She stirred. Shifted (which, given their close proximity, he enjoyed far too much), and then finally blinked open her eyelids. Yawning slightly and not even covering up her mouth (somehow he loved that), she eventually smiled at him. "Morning."

Okay, Dad was right there. Regs or no regs, kissing her on the lips even briefly was not a good idea. "Morning. You have a visitor."

Frowning, she peered over his shoulder...and what happened next was one big blur. There was shouting, and moving, and suddenly her legs were untangled from his.

By the time Jack actually got up off the bed - groaning a little - Carter and Jacob were well into what could only be described as THE HUG. Smiling, pleased, he nonetheless decided they deserved some privacy for this reunion, so Jack eased past and walked out of the cell, and then the room.

In the corridor, stretching out his back a little, he just could *not* stop grinning - and really, why should he?

Spying a familiar face turn a corner, Jack realised that - just like Carter - some other things were never going to change either.

"Hey, Siler!"

*

A week later, the 'Welcome Back Sam' party was in full swing. There were a lot of familiar faces, and Jack spent a fair amount of time apologising to those familiar faces for treating them like crap after Carter had vanished.

It actually felt pretty good to say.

There had been several emotional toasts to Daniel already (and Jack foresaw more yet to come), but for the most part everywhere he looked people were smiling. Definitely a good thing.

In fact the only bad thing as far as he was concerned, was that the guest of honour seemed to be AWOL.

A quick reconnaissance of the living room, kitchen and backyard confirmed what he suspected - she wasn't there. A (very quick) search of her bedroom and the bathroom proved equally fruitless, so eventually he was left with the one place he could think of: the basement.

The lights were off as he gingerly made his way down the stairs, and when he reached the bottom he fumbled about in the darkness for the door he knew was down there. Finding the handle he turned it and opened the door.

It was dark in there too, but not pitch black, and his eyes were beginning to adjust.

There was definitely someone there, a murky form on the other side of the room. "Carter?"

"Thank you for taking care of the house."

Well. That wasn't what he'd expected. "I didn't. Not really. I just hired someone to come it and clean it every few-"

"Sir."

"Sorry."

The form shifted. "I'm okay. Things up there were just...a little overwhelming. I don't think I've ever been hugged so much in my entire life."

Ah. Jack was beginning to comprehend. Still, he had to mock a little. "Guess it just proves how likeable you are, Carter."

Something that may have been laughter floated through the dark. "That's me. Miss Popular." Pausing, she sighed. "There were just...too many people. Truth be told, I didn't really want the party."

That wasn't exactly a surprise. "Well, were *you* about to tell Cassie she couldn't arrange this?" He smiled, before continuing on a serious note, still grasping the handle and pointing the thumb of his free hand over his shoulder. "I can vamoose if you-"

"No," she interrupted, "you're the only one I feel normal around. Maybe because, in some ways, you've missed the same things I have."

She definitely had a point. He'd caught up on a heck of a lot of news and developments over the last seven days - and mended a few friendships, too. "Ah - but I missed out because I was being an ass. In some twisted way I figured that was going to bring you back, so...I'll live with it." The music from the party thumped down through the ceiling, and somehow prompting him to act, he stepped into the room and closed the door. "What's wrong? I mean I'm sure you are freaked out by all the attention, but..." He could barely see anything at all now, but somehow he knew that made it easier for her.

"I don't think they're going to let me back on a team."

Jack's brain actually paused. "*What*?"

"Though all of Janet's tests came back clean - no bomb in the chest, no brain damage to indicate memory suppression, no sign of *anything* - I was still technically missing for six years. That's a long time to be gone from the most secret facility on the face of the planet. They're not sure I can be trusted."

It made absolute sense. From a tactical standpoint, it made absolute sense. That didn't stop his deep sense of indignation at her treatment. She was Carter. If not command, at the very least she deserved to be on a team in some capacity.

He could only imagine what she'd been through. Question after question; there would be scientists dying to have a word with her - enough of them had been bugging him, suddenly wanting to be his best friend after ignoring his existence before (though the less said about Area 51's current opinion of him, the better. Hey, it wasn't like *he* took the books himself...)

For her sake, he tried to look on the bright side. "But you can still do your science stuff, right? All those hours you love spending in your lab, risking chiropractor torture for the rest of your life due to all that bending over...now you can do even more."

"Sure. That's 'known' territory - I wouldn't be going into anything unknown, and they can keep a close eye on me. But it's not the same," she whispered.

No. He couldn't imagine how it ever would be. "I know."

"And it's just not *fair*. And I hate that I'm whining about this because it doesn't feel like me, but that job was my life - all of it. Not *just* the science part or not *just* fighting the Goa'uld. The whole package. I did nothing wrong, absolutely *nothing*...and they've taken it away from me."

Somewhere in the middle of that she'd come close to crying, and somehow in the darkness he found her, his arms slipping around her body.

She didn't relax, her body stiff against his. "I'm still her," she insisted, "I'm still Sam Carter."

Jack almost laughed, the idea of her not being Sam Carter was too ridiculous to even contemplate. "Never had any doubt, Carter. Never."

They stopped talking then, the silence punctuated only by the faint pounding that could still be heard from overhead, and the occasional sniffle or murmured word. And slowly, ever so slowly, she began to relax.

Jack had no idea what was going to happen with her, or them. If she'd stay at the SGC without being on a team, or if TPTB realised how ridiculous they were being and signed her up to a team ASAP.

All he did know was that he'd be there, as little or as much as she liked.

Closing his eyes - it was pretty pointless keeping them open anyway - Jack savoured the feel of her, being struck again by the fact that she was *here*. His chest tightened as he pulled her closer, the emotions almost terrifyingly hard to fight off. Most of the time he could deal with them, but maybe it was the darkness, or her, or just the right time - but he could suddenly *feel* everything.

Then there, in her basement, where no one - not even him - could see, Carter leant forward and kissed him.

And something in that made him realise...that she'd never been away.

~FINIS

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