We tripped out of the gate onto P5C-421. The sun was shining, grass was green--always nice to see--and there were a lot of frogs.

"There are a lot of...frogs," said Daniel, off to my right. And then: "Oh god."

I looked over, then down at his boots where he was staring. "I'm sure it was over quick," I said.  I decided then not to point out the frog-free zone that ran like a smoking stripe down the center of the steps. I'm a kind man when I want to be. Thoughtful, even.

"They really are frogs," Carter said. She was kneeling down and staring at one and smiling a dippy sort of smile. A nice smile, but dippy. I don't get women. Give them any pocket-sized life-form with the brain the size of a pea and they start to coo. Even women airmen do it. Even Carter, once in a while.

I looked at the frogs that were littered all over the steps, lumpy and hopping our way. Carter's was puffing up now and creaking like the hinge on an old chest.

"We come in peace," I mentioned. Couldn't hurt.

Daniel gave me a look I could see from the corner of my eye. They practice that particular look, all of them, and take turns aiming it my way. I deal with it. Every fearless leader takes his knocks.

"I don't remember seeing frogs before on any of our missions," Carter said, standing up again. I felt relief. If she'd kissed that little bastard....

"They were probably carried through the gate when the Gou'ald were first populating the world. Maybe in packs or baskets." Daniel began picking his way carefully down the steps with the rest of us, hunched over like an olive-drab turtle. I wanted to say, hump your own pack right, Daniel, or you'll throw out a damn disc, but figured he'd straighten up sooner or later, and if he didn't I'd just give his straps a tug. Easier to twitch his leash than try to reinforce some command that'd probably never even register in that great academic brain of his.

"Actually," he went on, "I've always kind of wondered why we don't see a greater variety of Earth species on some of these planets."

"Different species may have been brought over like you described but failed to adapt to local ecosystems," said Carter. "Transplants from planet to planet would be tricky. It's hard enough on Earth for--" And so on and et cetera.

I tuned them out. It was sunny and the breeze was strong and had a nice smell. Flowers. There was a handy path heading sraight from the gate toward the treeline, so we followed the yellow brick road, keeping our eyes peeled for a local presence. I was at full readiness. At least, I told myself I was. You have to keep believing. You watch for movement in the trees, listen for giant flying insects, keep everything open and wired for action. You tell yourself you know the full range of what to expect, that this time you'd be able to anticipate the next attack of weirdness.

Right, sure.

I probably should get more excited about visiting strange new worlds, meeting and greeting new civilizations, whatever. But mostly I just let Carter and Daniel go at it. A new world is like a toy to them. At least until it starts biting or shooting. To me, it's just work and worry and trying not to get them killed. Again. I mean, okay, new world--I get a bit of a buzz. If I didn't, I wouldn't be here. I'd be snapping up trout in Oregon.

So, we walked a while and came out of the trees and pretty soon met a bunch of people. That's when the trouble always starts. Funny, drop by some strange world and say hiya to the natives, and they're never the friendly sort you might meet at a local bar where you get to talking about the game, share a beer, shoot some pool and then say adios without once having to go for your gun. No, drop by an old Gou'ald stomping ground and you tend to find a lot of tightly-wound folks in togas with real strange ideas about hospitality.

I don't think it's just us.

They seemed like a nice sort, though. They were out tilling the grapes or something. Lots of grapes. In the hedges--lots of hedges--we could see them moving around their business, and past the hedges, a white city on a hill.

"Charming," I said, squinting out at the city, and got that look aimed my way again, and this time it made me wonder if I can't say one single innocent word anymore without someone thinking I'm sarcastic. I tried to think about how else I might have said it. Kind of hearty: "Charming!" Or maybe nodding my head like some know-it-all at an art show: "Mm, charming." Then I realized what a stupid word "charming" is. There was the problem.

A local wandered out of the greenery with a basket of grapes. He was eating some and looked guilty when he saw us, and then recognized we were out-of-towners and relaxed. He was tan and had what the O'Neills used to call dandelion hair. Drop him down in SoCal and he wouldn't be out of place.

"Hello," said Daniel, in that deliberate way of his--you've never heard a man put as much care into saying hello until you've heard Daniel say it. You'd think he was about to defuse a bomb and it hinged on getting this word just right. Or maybe you'd think here's a guy whose career in galactic diplomacy is based on a lot of practice talking to rocks.

Our newest pal spit to one side, said hello back, and showed a lot of cheery yellow teeth. We showed a lot of white teeth back.

Daniel went on with the friendly traveler routine, and we all let him. After a hundred planets or so, he had the role nailed. "We're peaceful explorers here to visit your people."

And leverage as much local technology as possible, I thought.

"I'm Daniel." A long arm stretched out and waved toward the rest of us. "This is Major Carter, Teal'c, and Colonel O'Neill."

"I am Benar," said the dandelion-headed guy with the grapes.

"We've come through the circle of stone," said Daniel, pointing back toward the path we'd followed.

Benar's gaze was blank.

"The stone on the hill," Daniel said, waving his finger vaguely in a circular motion. I rolled my eyes.

Benar seemed to be puzzling at us, and looked in that direction with a thinking squint. "You are from Tunista?" he asked.

"No, we're from Earth."

"But only Tunista lies in that direction."

"Well, okay--" began Daniel, clearly ready to launch into a long explanation.

"Daniel, never mind," I muttered, but he went ahead anyway, trying to explain how we'd gotten there and where we were from. Benar was highly amused by this fairy-tale story, and laughed at length until Daniel, man of patience that he is, got fed up and waved a hand in surrender.

So, to cut the pleasantries short, we made friendly, politely ate a grape or two, then followed Benar down the nearest path between two long hedges that stretched about a mile. Okay, not a mile. A nice hike, though. Point eight klicks from end to end, if you want to get boring. On the way we met more of the locals, including Tar-something, Feh-something, and Ga-whatever.

"They seem to like the grapes," I said, after the third local spit a mouthful of seeds to one side before smiling at us. We were trudging along after Benar, Carter on point, Teal'c on our six, and Daniel right in front of me. No one responded, of course. I stared at the back of Daniel's neck. If we'd been in a library I'd have spitballed him. I pulled a grape off the nearest branch and tossed it down his collar. Two points. He stopped fast enough that I bumped into him, and turned to give me a nose-to-nose frown. Irritated. Very.

"What was that?"

"What?"

"Do I have a grape down my back, Jack?"

I leaned in and whispered, "I think Teal'c's a little bored."

He pursed his lips up like he'd tasted something weird. It was a hot day. I could smell the salt on his upper lip and cheeks. "Are you sure you're a colonel?" he said crankily.

"Last time I checked my dogtags." I gave him a shove and we trudged some more.

When we got into the city, there was a lot of neck craning among the brainy set, and the usual commentary. "Elements like the intercolumnation suggest that the architecture is, uh, closest to Hellenistic, I think, with a basis in Doric." Daniel was turning in circles as he walked and missed treading in a pile of dung by mere inches and pure oblivious luck. "They've also got hypostyle halls and obelisks, which isn't surprising."

I looked at the market stalls and interested kids we were passing, half alert and half distracted and still keeping my gun cradled close. "Really? I was pretty shocked, myself."

"The Hellenistic style incorporated Nilotic motifs and architecture, sir," said Carter. She paused. "Nilotic means Egyptian."

"I knew that." And I did actually--at least, it rang a bell. Some of that stuff begins to stick after you hear it a hundred times, but try and convince anyone else of that. I worked the subject around in my head for three seconds, wondering if I had anything else to say, then gave up on it. These were the kinds of irrelevant observations that can keep you from noticing more important stuff, like Gou'ald or some smiling ten-year-old about to throw a Molotov cocktail in your face.

Benar led us to a big house ("Like a Roman villa urbana," said you-know-who) and passed us off to a snooty lackey who probably would have tried to make us leave our boots outside if the lady of the house hadn't arrived on the scene to rescue us.

"Be welcome," she said, looking us over and then beaming her smile at me. She had big hair and a lot of flesh, and most of what she had above the waist was propped up like fruit on a platter.

"Thanks," I said. There was one of those silences that you realize after a moment you have to fill because you're the one in charge. "We come in peace. We're from...a long way away."

"Tunista?"

"Yes, we're from Tunista," I said, cutting short a reply from Daniel. "Well, not Tunista, strictly." The Tunistans could be cannibals, for all we knew. "We're actually a little further out past Tunista. We're from...Turista."

"We're peaceful explorers," said Daniel again, giving her a smile and me a glare in the space of a second. "We're hoping for a chance to meet and learn of your people and exchange ideas." He did the usual round of introductions and we found out our hostess went by Callidice. "Ah, your name means 'fair justice'," he told her, making it half a question.

"It is so." She brushed off the compliment and turned her eyes on me, kinda pointedly, I thought. I raised my brows.

"You are the leader of these people."

"That's me."

"My husband Acestes is chief counsel to our sovereign, Peitho. He will be home soon and will also make you welcome. I know your visit will be of great interest to him." I managed a smile and a nod. You can never really be sure whether "great interest" is a good thing or a bad thing.

The lady had one of her people lead us off to a quiet room. Daniel immediately started pacing out the perimeter, taking measurements in his notebook and fingering the plaster and staring with way too much interest up into corners where they had these little fancy bits--leaves, faces, all that. They had real leaves, too, ceiling-high and stuffed in big pots. The chairs were comfortable and the air was cool here; it reminded me of a Lebanese hotel I once stayed at, breezy and dim, but without the ceiling fans or the angry crowds outside the gate.

They brought us more grapes in wooden bowls and what looked like wine. We drank water from our canteens instead, and stretched out to wait. I propped my boots on the table and then yanked them off again when Daniel said my name in that special way, sort of like a maiden aunt with a grudge. After he was satisfied I was going to behave, he wandered out into the garden to talk to an old fellow picking fruit off a tree. I let my eyelids drop half a notch and watched them chat, primed for trouble but content to have a clear line of fire through the open doorway. Teal'c sat off to one side like the Buddha, listening to invisible voices or whatever he did at such times. Carter was antsy, then pulled out the souped-up PDA she'd started carrying a few missions back and began tapping at it with the little pen thingy. There were no words for how annoying that was, but I roused myself for an effort.

"Checking your e-mail, Major?"

She looked guilty. "Well, I did have some unread messages, sir. But I also wanted to take some mission notes. Since we're waiting."

"That's so...enterprising of you. Consicientious. Proactive."

"Thank you, sir," she said, while her eyes said fuck you very much in a polite sort of way. She went back to her tapping and I sat there thinking about how much I liked Carter. If the chips fell as they should, she'd make general some day, and she'd sit at a big desk somewhere and stare down smartasses like me. The picture was a satisfying one, and made me feel proud.

Daniel wandered back in and sat down with us. "I have kind of some bad news," he said. His face wore that worried look I hated.

"Oh? Do tell." I gritted my teeth and braced for it.

"I think the servants are probably slaves," he said, drawing out his words as if not comfortable speaking them. "The one in the garden referred to himself as 'doulos' rather than 'diakonos.' I questioned him a bit, and the meaning seems to have remained consistent. He was born a slave and considers himself loyal to the family. He does seem...happy."

"Happy?" I glared at him.

"Well, Greek slavery wasn't primarily a venal institution, but a social and legal one. A doulos could rise to great power as a household manager, or as a skilled physician or artisan. Elaborate laws protected them and many bought their eventual freedom. From what I gather it's the same here."

"So if everything's hunky-dory, what's the bad news?"

Daniel blinked. "Well..." He blinked some more and frowned. "I just thought you'd want to know."

"Carter, make a note. Doo-las. Slaves. Kinda bad. But happy."

"I do not believe that a slave can be truly happy, Daniel Jackson." Teal'c had gone stony-faced, and his lips turned down. Certainly not a happy Jaffa. "Even the most benign ownership is still ownership, and even the most sanguine slave will harbor resentment against his master within his heart."
 
"Ah," said Daniel, eyebrows sliding way, way up there. He looked to me and Carter for help. Oh sure, Danny boy. Pass.

Carter crawled gamely into the hole Daniel had dug. "I think all that Daniel is saying, Teal'c, is that there can be degrees of slavery. The Gou'ald system is about as extreme as you can get. I don't know that we should assume the local, uh--"

"Attikans."

"--Attikans feel the same way about their masters as they'd feel about the Gou'ald."

"Speaking of which," I said, putting Daniel back on the hot seat, then leaning forward to snag a grape.

"Oh. I did manage to tease out a passing reference to evil spirts, or daimoni, that once visited these parts and inhabited the bodies of the suffering unfortunate."

"Tease out? Passing reference?"

"Well, it wasn't much, but it doesn't sound as if the Gou'ald have been around for a while."

Always news to warm the heart, and my vigilance eased a tad.

"Have you tried the grapes?" I said.

We cooled our heels for a few hours before Acestes came home. "His name means 'pleasing goat,'" Daniel whispered to me when he walked in, which put distracting thoughts in my head during the following glad-handing.

It seemed to go well at first, once we stopped trying to convince him we'd come through the gate and he'd stopped chuckling at us. We sat with the fellow and chewed the fat, telling him stories about the great and distant land of Turista and digging out as much info as we could about the local scene. It wasn't all wine and roses here in Attika, but nothing I heard was making me too twitchy.

After a while, his friends began to arrive--fellow counsels, he introduced them as. They were the usual mix. Heavy Drinker, Old Soldier, Nosy Paker, and the cheery guy wearing the biggest rocks on his fingers, who always wants to know what you can do for him. Daniel snagged the academic, who seemed to be questioning him fiercely about Turistan libraries. I listened with one ear while trying to fob off the business proposals of a beady-eyed guy named Smintheus who I kept thinking of as Smithers. Down the table, Teal'c was fielding questions with steady calm that probably covered for a whole lotta rude thoughts.

No one talked much to Carter, and whenever I caught her eye I felt bad. Her frustration was growing, but there wasn't much I could do. I shrugged once and she made a face, and then I got sucked into the conversation again and had to make up stuff about unreliable trade routes and a decimated merchant fleet, getting in deeper while trying not to attract Daniel's attention, because he might have decided it was time to try and come clean again. Don't get me wrong--honesty's a great policy and one we usually practice, but I wasn't seeing a reason to change our story and tell these people we were their mightily advanced descendents or ancestors or what-have-you. They didn't seem to have any tradeworthy technology lying around and thought the gate was a hunk of worthless old stone. Plus, we'd have gotten laughed at some more and that would have hurt.

The happy slaves brought in trays of meat and bread and fruit, and more wine, and we--my team--all exchanged looks as I made the call about whether or not we should eat from the local hearth. I sighed and tipped them the nod, and we all dug in. It was tasty and didn't seem like it was going to kill us. Later, I kind of wished it had.

You can't lose track of time at civic dinners. I kept checking my watch, wondering when it was going to end. After three hours, I was about ready to raise my hand and suggest an early night's sleep, and that's when Acestes stood up and made a long speech about the honor of our visit and the potential for great friendship between our peoples. And that's when I figured out that Attika must be a pretty dull backwater, if our motley crew could be mistaken for the next big thing.

"We look forward to the prospect of a new and shining alliance between Attika and Turista after the dokimistra," he said, smiling through his beard with glass raised. And then everyone drank. I touched the glass to my lips along with the rest of my team, but that little red flag had grabbed my attention and I grabbed Daniel's with a look.

"Dokimistra," he said searchingly in the lull that followed. "Dokimi--that's 'proof,' right?" He looked at me, at the others, and finally at Acestes.

"Yes, the dokimistra," said Acestes. "The ritual of proof."

Red flag, oh yeah. "Uh, okay. And what is that exactly?" I tried not to grimace, but it was like being at the dentist. You just knew something bad was coming.

"You do not have the dokimistra?" said Smithers. The others were listening with the kind of attention that warns you not to fumble the play.

"Well, we might," said Daniel carefully. "We might have a different word for it though. That particular one isn't familiar to us."

"As an unproved leader and emissary, you must demonstrate both your authority and the loyalty of your people," Acestes said to me.

"And that would be...how?"

"You must brand them with your seed."

"I...beg your pardon?" It was suddenly getting harder to force words out even though my jaw felt unhinged.

"With your seed," echoed Daniel in a stunned, wondering tone of voice that made me wince. "Are you saying he has to...uh..."

Jesus Christ on a crutch, I thought. Don't say it, Daniel.

"You can't be serious," said Carter, cracking a tiny laugh that I translated as absolute horror. I was almost offended, but it was only a moment before I regained my sanity and redirected my anger back to Acestes.

"No way. No how." I stood up, and my team followed my lead and surged to their feet as one, which should have proved to the present company of lunatics that any seed branding was totally unnecessary, thanks very much. "Come on. We're out of here."

They told us we couldn't leave. Surprise surprise. They were what you'd call adamant about it. We made to leave anyway, but Acestes flashed a fancy hand device at us that changed our plans. Golden light, sharp pain just like at the dentist's, and the next thing we knew we were waking up naked and trussed on a cold floor. It was as every bit as cheesy as the set-up for a porno flick, or would have been. If it hadn't been us.

"Mama said there'd be days like this," I muttered. I forced open my eyes and saw more of Carter's ass than I'd seen in a long time, not since that fun little strip-search on P6K-225. It was a peachy view, but it made me angry all over again. "God damn it." I had to roll and lever myself into a sitting position. When you near fifty, that kind of thing gets a lot harder with every passing year.

I surveyed the view. Carter seemed to still be out cold. Teal'c was sitting up against one wall, looking imper--well, the opposite of perturbed.

"O'Neill."

"Teal'c." I paused. My face felt funny and I realized I was trying not to show any expression at all. What do you say in these situations? Lookin' good there didn't seem appropriate.

"Jack?"

I located Daniel off to my left, in a heap with his glasses mashed up near his forehead. He lifted his head and wriggled his nose around until the glasses fell, then looked at me. I looked back and raised my brows at him.

"You're…naked," Daniel said. Then I watched him reboot that thought. "I'm...naked. Why are we naked?" He asked it in the tone of voice of someone who isn't sure he really wants to know. Couldn't blame him there.

"We're all naked," I told him. "We are all very, very naked."

"Sir?"

"Carter," I acknowledged, a bit more uneasily. I really, really didn't want her to sit up and turn around. "Don't panic, but...."

"Naked. Yes, sir." She sounded like she was still making the trip from angry to resigned. She began to roll herself upright; Daniel did too, with more struggle.

So, you know, there we were, sitting in a small room together. Naked. Our hands had been tied behind our backs. There was no good position for sitting. Everything more or less dangled. I tried not to look below the neck. In any direction.

"Well, this is...." Daniel said, but never finished. He must have started out with some word in mind, but come up empty when trying to pin it down. I could think of a few. Bad. Embarrassing. Unfun. Gruesome. I think we probably all completed that sentence in our own way.

We sat for a while with not much to talk about, then started the usual speculations. What were they going to do with us, how lethal would it be, what had they done with our guns, whether that hand device had been Gou'ald and if so, what the hell did that mean. Then Daniel and Carter went off on their own tangent, theorizing on why the locals might have evolved such a fun and kinky ritual; the scientific method of passing the time. But who knew what these grape-smoking morons were thinking? Who cared? I just needed to get my team the hell out of there.

After a few hours, when my butt was beginning to feel sandbagged, the man of the house came in. Let me tell you: he took the opportunity to ogle the flesh. While he was giving Carter the once-over and quizzing Teal'c on his "scar" I scanned our chances. He'd left the door open, but there were at least two tall guards outside. Trees.

"Hey, thanks for stopping by," I said, trading impossible escape plans for easy sarcasm. "Wanted to thank you again for your hospitality."

"You have brought this upon yourself." Acestes was in kicking distance, I noticed. I gave it serious consideration. "We regret that you did not bow appropriately to custom and that this action was necessary. If you wish to reconsider, I would be glad to reassemble the council and proceed."

"I'm thinking...no." I was actually thinking, Go fuck yourself, you lousy grape-brained rodent, and while you're at it, why don't you take a long crawl up your own asshole and then shit yourself back out. But I don't like to curse at offworlders in front of Daniel. He thinks it hurts the potential to rebuild amicable relations or something.

"That is a pity," said Acestes.

"Why?" asked Carter, scowling up at him. Our man Acestes didn't even turn his head or notice, but he should have. I wouldn't want to be on Carter's bad side.

"If your leader will not claim you, then you are without surety or patron. You are all free for the taking."

"The taking?" said Daniel.

"You will be offered up for bid as slaves."

"If that's what you call free, you might want to get a dictionary." I glared. "You treat all your visitors like this?"

"Few strangers visit Attika, and those who do adhere to custom."

"What's the reason for this custom?" Daniel again, asking the one question I didn't give a good goddamn about.

Acestes kept directing his answers to me, even though I was the one person in the room most likely to break his nose, given the opportunity. "To prove the vitality of leadership and the fealty of your cohorts."

"But why like that?" persisted Daniel.

"It is the way."

Oh, yeah. Welcome to the bottom line. "Give it up, Daniel. They're just a bunch of perverts who like to get their jollies tormenting the odd passer-by."

"Jack--"

"I will leave you to the purification."

"Whoa." I kicked out a leg--modesty be damned--and halted him. He could have stepped over me, but didn't. "Say again?"

"You will remain here for seven days, until the foreign humors are sweated from your bodies, and then you will be cleansed and brought to auction."

"Seven days?" That was Carter, big-eyed and alarmed. "I can't--sir." She implored me with a look that I had no way of interpreting. I sensed her urgency, though.

"That's not going to work for us," I said.

Acestes wasn't what you'd call sympathetic to my argument. "It will have to."

Carter didn't want to say something, but it was eating at her. Her jaw looked like a boomerang about to spring free and take someone else's neck off. "Sir, I need...something from my pack. A feminine product." It cost her a lot to say that. It hurt me like a punch in the chest to hear it; it hurt me on her behalf. And if I'd been angry before, I was doubly so now. We shouldn't be here dealing with crap like this.

Rank has its privileges. And then there are the moments when you wish you'd listened to your Uncle Frank and opened a bowling alley. "Look, Major Carter needs..." I took a breath. "A feminine product. Do you know what I'm saying?" God, I hoped he did.

"No."

"In her pack, there are--" I looked at her blankly.

"Tampons."

"Tampons," I told Acestes. "Little, uh, packages. Women use them for--" I fumbled.

"Menstruation," said Daniel.

I swear, Acestes paled. Even with Carter's embarrassment tearing at me, I felt viciously glad to see that something could knock the sonofabitch off balance. "I will send Callidice."

"You do that," I said.

I tried not to listen to the interview that followed, but the lady of the house made it difficult. She asked questions of Carter that did not deserve an answer. She finally went and fetched the stuff, though, and left the whole caboodle, minus the one she took apart to study. She did ask first if Carter's hymen was intact, but Daniel interrupted me before I could express an opinion on that.

"She was probably concerned about the effects of the, uh, insertion," said Daniel, after the lady had taken herself off. He threw Carter a sympathetic look along with the comment. I knew I just looked pissed off, but couldn't help it.

"Damn good those are if they don't untie our hands," I snarled to the room at large.

They did, later. They untied Carter's anyway, and she untied ours. Even later still, they pushed four food bowls under the door; the first meal of many, all of which included grapes. They didn't open the door again for seven days.

We had never seen each other this naked before, in this particular way. I want to say we took it in stride, but it's harder than you'd think to ignore all that stuff normally hidden under a uniform.

The room gave us about eight by eight feet of breathing space, and there was a good six inches of fresh air coming in under the door, which we'd determined was solid. Some slanted holes in the ceiling poured in light, though never any rain. A square pit at one end of the room stank of the sewer. We went when we had to, and every time someone stepped up to the plate, the rest of us turned aside and acted as if we suddenly had to look this way now, where the plain white wall was so much more interesting. Carter hadn't started to use her tampons yet, but she was certainly getting testy.

"Please. Stare at my breasts, sir."

I gaped at her. "What?" I admit, I'd been trying and failing not to notice them. But damn if I expected her to call me on it.

"Get it out of your system. They're just breasts." She lifted them--hell, she hefted them. I was…appalled. I looked at Teal'c. No help there. Here was a guy who'd clearly seen it all before and was determined not to react. When I looked over at Daniel, he made a complicated face, squinching and shrugging as if to say, you might as well go ahead and look. I looked. Breasts. Two of them. Yep.

"Uh, thanks, Carter."

"You're welcome, sir."

That was day two.

"I'm still not sure I see the point," said Daniel, frowning.

"Oh, for crying out loud." I put my head on my knees. This was beyond painful.

Carter was more patient than I was, but she was starting to talk with her hands, framing out small invisible boxes of air as if they could hold the concepts she was trying to get across. "The Air Force uses military time, Daniel. The Navy uses bells to mark the hours of the watch--"

"Okay, wait--is that funny?"

"Well, no," Carter admitted. "But the Army uses military time, too, except--"

"--the big hand is on the, right, I got that. Meaning that Army soldiers are less intelligent."

"Right. And the Marine Corps--"

"That's the part I don't get. Why is 'Thursday afternoon' funny?"

"Let it go, Carter. Let. It. Go." I was pleading.

"But, Jack--"

"Daniel, you have the sense of humor of a rubber chicken."

"I thought rubber chickens were supposed to be funny."

"Exactly my point."

He stared at me, wounded or pretending to be. Nothing like a straight man to keep the morale up. I cocked my head back at him, and felt myself softening. I winked at him. He smiled.

That was day three.

"How's that kel-no-reem coming, Teal'c?"

"It would come well if you did not interrupt me, O'Neill."

"It doesn't usually take this long, though, does it?"

"When I am distracted, it may take much longer."

"Oh." I leaned back and wished for a rubber ball. A yo-yo. A deck of cards. "Kel-no-reem," I said. "What does that mean, anyway?"

"It means to reknit the bonds between flesh and god."

"Huh." I thought about that, and didn't like it much. Having a Gou'ald within you is bad enough, but to knit with it...that's just too cozy. I began to whistle for no particular reason. Teal'c opened his eyes and stared at me.

"I am done, O'Neill. Is there anything else you wish to ask me?" Teal'c was learning sarcasm, and used it like a thin knife.

"No, no. Nothing else." I gave him my most pleasant smile. He stared back sourly.

"Six thousand one hundred and eighty seven," said Daniel.

"Seventy eight point six five," Carter replied. "And some extra decimals."

Okay, now they were getting on my nerves. "Daniel, why do you keep asking her square roots when you can't even verify them?"

Daniel looked quizzical. "I don't know, Jack. Why do you keep asking me if I've ever seen a tiger muskrat or a smallmouth crappie when you know I don't fish?"

"Those were rhetorical questions. And it's a tiger muskie and a smallmouth bass."

"Whatever."

Oh, he was going to whatever me now, was he? "What-ever?" I repeated snottily.

"What?" he said, staring at me as if I were the insane one.

"What?" I asked, raising my brows innocently.

"You are all becoming more irritating as time passes," said Teal'c.

That was day five.

Daniel was pacing, arms wrapped around himself. "Shouldn't they have been here by now?" He had asked the question at least a dozen times over the past week, which per day might not seem too obsessive, but my nerves were frayed and I could hardly stand to hear it again.

"Yes, Daniel." It was a testament to my leadership skills how calm I sounded. "They should have been here by now. But they aren't here."

That we know of, said Carter. Not aloud, this time--but she'd said it before, and I heard her voice in my head and saw that look pass over her face. Earlier on, midway through day four, we'd tossed a few possibilities back and forth about why rescue hadn't yet arrived. Then she and I had agreed to cut that conversation short and not revisit it. Words hadn't been needed, just a shared look, officer to officer.

"What are we going to do?" Daniel stopped pacing and stared down at me. "Isn't it time we came to a decision?"

"Let's not jump ahead."

"No, let's jump, Jack. They're going to come back and drag us out for auction and sell us and divide us up. I think it's maybe time to consider--"

"No!" I said forcefully.

"--whether spilling a little seed might not be worth it, in terms of a trade-off."

"Daniel, shut up."

"Sir, Daniel's right." Et tu, Carter? I glared at her--full force intimidation--but she kept that firm, apologetic gaze which was quickly twisting my guts into knots. "It's time we talked about this."

"Well, that's where I think you're wrong, Major. And since I'm the colonel in this room--"

"I don't see any stripes, sir."

I met her steady eyes and let out a breath, whoosh, right from the solar plexus. I took her point with reluctance. We were all in this boat together, stripped of dignity, and we'd sink or swim together. This was no democracy, but they deserved better than a faint-hearted colonel pulling rank. Some of the fight left me. Not all of it, though. Not by a long shot.

"Carter, you'll have to do a whole lot better than that to convince me to put on a sideshow for these sick sons of bitches."

Daniel sat down cross-legged near me, and Carter hunched closer. Teal'c stayed in place against the west wall where he'd been sitting on and off for the past week, but even he leaned forward, elbows on knees, hands laced together. I stared at his hands, hating everything about my life.

"I've been thinking more about the phrase that Acestes used, 'brand with your seed,'" Daniel said. The way he talked, he could have been translating any old phrase from one of his musty books. "What he's describing may not be quite as bad as our imaginations have painted it."

"Oh, really?"

"Well, they might only require--" He hesitated, then made a gesture with one arm that you might use to indicate a busy fountain.

"Oh, well, if you're saying that all I need to do is jerk off on my subordinates, then hey, why not. So sorry, kids, don't know what I was thinking."

"Sir." Carter's eyes were a reproof again. But kind and gentle, too. Too kind, too gentle. I wanted to hide my face in my hands. I wanted to go to sleep and wake up at home, with all of this behind me. And forgotten. Where's a plague of amnesia when you need one?

They talked at me and wore me down. It was like an encounter session, or how I imagined one to be. At some point, I had to get serious and tear off every last scrap of bitter levity I'd been clinging to in the hopes that it would keep me from thinking the proposal through. Nearly every scrap. Maybe there was one or two left. I suspected I might need them later.

"If we do this," I finally began. "If we do this...." I didn't know what I wanted to say though. My face felt hot, my insides tight. I couldn't meet their eyes.

"If we do this," said Daniel slowly, "we have to agree not to put it in our mission reports."

"We must never speak of it again," said Teal'c.

"We'd put it behind us," said Carter. "We couldn't allow it to affect our working relationship." If Daniel sounded like an academic puzzling out a difficult bit of text, Carter sounded like she was preparing a strategy for battle.

"Just like that." Doubt flooded up through my throat. "Put it behind us."

"Just like that," Carter said. There was no doubt in her voice, but I knew she had to be feeling it on some level. I admired her. I admired all of them. I feared what we were discussing as fiercely as a snake in my head.

We'd talked about the alternatives, such as they were. One: let ourselves be taken as slaves, lull our masters into a false sense of security, pre-arrange an escape date and a place to meet. The problem with that was…well, everything. We had no way of knowing what they'd do to us once we were slaves, where they'd take us, how far apart we might end up after being split up. Then there'd be the whole getting-back-to-Earth problem to deal with. We couldn't do that without our GDOs.

Two: we could try to escape before the auction, but with Gou'ald technology weighing into the mix, we might not be that lucky. And we still didn't know where our GDOs were.

Three: there was no three. These were our alternatives.

"Okay," I said. "Okay."

There was nothing more to say.

I was born in Minneapolis, grew up in Chicago. I set out to live a clean life and avoid the lure of loose hippie girls, on the advice of my dad. Joined the Air Force at eighteen--it was never open to question. Then got married, had a kid. I had a normal life. Mostly. I did some hard things in the service of my country, things that even loyalty couldn't make me proud of. I had grief. One day some guys drove up in a car, told me I could serve my country again on a special mission. The folder had a black seal. I knew what that meant and I grabbed for it with both hands. I was ready to die for a good cause, or even a bad one.

I didn't die. After Abydos, I came home and retired and watched the night skies, and even after everything I'd seen I didn't guess what was in store for me. More trips through the stargate and more Gou'ald and more missions, the kind you can't write home to mom about. In the year after Abydos, I sometimes thought about going back. Okay, I thought about it all the time. Every day I imagined gating back to that planet and I remembered the adventure I'd had there. I thought it was something I'd have just that one taste of--alien sands and moons and that weird meat which in no way tasted like chicken, no matter what anyone says. I thought it was a closed book and I envied Daniel Jackson. He had a wife and a new world to explore. He was a hero to an entire people. I was an obscure colonel, divorced and alone, my deeds unsung.

I don't know what my life would have turned out like if the gate had never opened again. I'd probably still be alone, just me and a fishing rod and a lot of time on my hands, and a gun on the closet shelf that I tried not to think about.

On the other hand, I wouldn't be standing naked on an alien planet in front of a bunch of loony Greeks who want me to sodomize a fellow officer of the United States Air Force and two of my direct reports. A trade-off, Daniel said.

Isn't everything.

I stared at the colored pictures on the wall and tried for denial.

"Okay, not as good as we'd hoped," said Daniel.

"Ya think?"

"This is pretty sordid." That was Carter, sounding unhappier now that was faced with larger-than-life illustrations of the ritual.

Teal'c also lacked enthusiasm. "The options appear to be limited. And the one on the far wall is not physically possible between males."

You couldn't get much more obvious than that, I thought irritably, but then Daniel said, "That would leave only three options, except...." And he trailed off meaningfully and it hit me that the obvious wasn't that obvious.

"I'm not on birth control, sir, and even if I were--"

"Enough said," I managed, not looking at her. I stared down the giant painted wang in front of me instead and felt a headache coming on. This wasn't advanced math, but one act per person with no duplication, and four godawful possibilities, one of which was a no-go for Carter and not possible between males, and...what kind of sick fucks were these people?

"If I am to choose the act in which we are to engage, then it would be that one." Teal'c nodded at the rear wall and I made myself eyeball that scene of manly delights again with only a grimace. It was the only one that matched Daniel's first guess. I'm not sure if that made it easiest, though.

"That's...swell, Teal'c. But Carter." I swallowed. Let her catch the pass.

"That's fine, sir. I just...I don't know if I can pick between the others." She implored for help with her eyes--not me, but Daniel. I snuck a glance at him. Nothing showed on his face that I could translate. You want my honest opinion, I think Teal'c has nothing on Daniel when it comes to keeping a lid on himself.

"You should pick the one you're more comfortable with, Sam." He didn't even hesitate, never broke calm. That's taking it like a man, Daniel. I wanted to hug him, almost, though I knew his was a wasted gesture. Carter was military. She'd pick the one she was least comfortable with, and leave whatever she thought was easiest for a civilian.

After a sharp nod she said, "That one." She jerked her head once in another direction and I didn't have to look to know which she'd chosen. She seemed angry now; her whole face was hard. I could see my own giant freak-out coming down the pike, and holding it at bay distracted me from thinking or feeling much of anything else, but she'd picked up my anger where I'd left off. A good second in command, that was Carter.

"No," said Daniel.

"My choice, Daniel," said Carter firmly.

"I'd actually prefer that." He folded his arms and raised his chin at her. "I'd have fewer...issues with that." She raised her brows at him, and I couldn't let myself look at him. "Please don't ask me to explain, Sam."

She whitened and nodded her surrender, and another fierce pang of admiration gripped me at Daniel's gentle lie.

I was getting maudlin. Or maybe this was the freak-out. I felt as if we were all about to die or be split up, even though it was exactly the opposite. We'd survive, but there'd be a hellacious aftermath, worse than any hangover. I didn't want to open myself up to doubt that we might not make it. Make it as a team, I mean. I wasn't even thinking about anymore about whether we'd get home, but about the next time I'd find myself sitting across from Carter at the briefing table, and what it was going to be like to try to choke down a doughnut like normal and smile at her over my coffee.

"I guess we're supposed to--" Daniel gestured at the middle of room, where they had a raised area of the floor, with cushions. There were pillars around it, connected like the frame of a giant four-poster bed, and a circle of chairs around the outside. Oh so fucking cozy.

We went up there and stood and then, when they kept us waiting, sat down. Real kind of them to give us all that extra time to think. I wasn't looking at anyone. I stared at my pale, hairy shins and my thighs and noticed, hey, I'm still naked. Whaddaya know.

Acestes came in then with all his pals and got the show on the road. I felt like a fucking circus animal, bathed and perfumed and not a stitch of clothes to my name. Things could be worse, I reminded myself as the locals settled in, but you know, that thought really stopped helping me a while back.

"You may have wine," he said to me, "if it will be of service." Of service? Oh. Right.

"I'll pass." I paused and gave that a second thought. "For now."

A slave closed gauzy curtains around our...stage. We had no lights up there with us, but the torches around the walls of the room were strong and there wasn't any doubt in my mind that our audience could see just fine. If I'd been less nervous, the force of my hatred in that moment might have propelled me off the stage right at Acestes' throat. There were still guards, though, and the hand device gleaming at me from between his fingers.

Another slave started drumming from a corner, and I caught the smell what I guess was incense. Thoughtful of them, if you looked at it a certain way. I didn't.

I had to grow out of being piss-shy when I entered the military, and when it comes to sex I've had my share of performance anxiety, but nothing had prepared me for stepping up to Teal'c and trying to raise wood in front of a dozen strange men and the people under my command. Let's just say: it wasn't within a million miles of easy. He knelt on the floor, not at all helpful--and let me stress that unhelpfulness was a good call here--while I turned away and closed my eyes and thought of other things. Not-Teal'c things. My wrist began to feel sore after a while. Other things felt sore. I could sense the natives getting restless.

"Jack, there's some oil in the bowl," Daniel said from his corner.

"Now is not a good time to be talking to me." My answer snapped free under its own power, but in truth it was a relief to hear someone say something. His normal voice with that matter-of-fact suggestion, right in the middle of hell, loosened one of the knots gripping my body. I didn't follow up on his advice, but I focused better. After what felt like a lifetime I was hard and ready as I'd ever be.

And in short I turned and jerked off on Teal'c, right on his chest. He took it well, considering. Didn't even make much of a face. Just kinda looked down and raised one brow and let it drip. He wasn't thrilled, of course, but who was. He didn't meet my eyes. I could only hope that he was angrier at them than at me, and that he'd get over it in time.

I hoped I would too.

When I walked away from Teal'c, all I could hear was the silence from Daniel and Sam. The Attikans had started talking, clearly recognizing this as intermission. A slave came up through the curtains and offered me wine. I drank down an entire glass without stopping.

"More," I said, hearing my voice come out harsh and savage.

He brought me another glass. Red, bitter stuff. It didn't hit me in the head right away like I'd expected, but I could feel something.

I knew what my refractory period was, but prolonging the matter was unbearable. I went over to Carter and started to repeat the process.

"That is not the way," someone said. The fat guy. The merchant.

"You must adhere to the manner of the selection," said Acestes.

"I am adhering to it, damn it!"

"You must grow in her mouth."

"Why?" asked Daniel. To the locals, he probably didn't sound angry. I knew better. "You said that the ritual required us to be branded with his seed. A formality. Nothing else. If he spills his seed in her mouth, you shouldn't need anything more."

A lesser man than Daniel could never have strung those words together. I know I couldn't have.

"Let them proceed," said an old guy who sounded like he wanted the evening to wind quickly to a close so he could go home and rest. The others had nothing more to say after that, and I got back down to business.

Except I didn't. I couldn't. This was Carter, for crying out loud, and my refractory period was just that: no comma. Period. Full stop. I tried every trick I knew--those that didn't involve me moving my hands away from my dick, that is. I felt hot and cold all over. Queasy. It was the worst kind of bad dream, because it was no dream at all.

"Sir--"

"Don't," I said raggedly, and the silence followed again and my ears rang with it.

Maybe ten minutes passed, but it felt longer, like hours trapped in the path of a bullet that never gets closer.

"I want to ask something of the council." Daniel's voice. I surfaced from the silence, shuddering. Ask? What the hell did he want to ask? I stopped moving my hands, and cradled myself. My palms were hot and dry.

"Ask."

"If you allow that our leader needs only to spill his seed in the proper place, does it matter who helps him grow?" It took a few moments for the words to sink in, and I thought, no, Daniel. No. No. No.

"A timely conclusion to the ritual is a desired goal. Do as you wish."

"No," I said, but my voice was weak. A whisper. He came over and I had to open my eyes. He was right in front of me, face set, glasses pushed up on his head. He took the sides of my face in his hands and my entire body hummed with something. Terror, I think.

"It's going to be okay." He sounded so sure.

"Oh. Yeah. Right." I could still only whisper. It was like I'd been screaming for days. I could see the gold cap of Carter's hair to my right, and knew that she was keeping her face bowed down so she wouldn't have to look at me. Us. It was the right thing for her to do. I felt gratitude.

He went down on his knees and put his glasses aside and took me in his mouth. I forgot not to look. I'd thought I was dry, but he made me hard fast. One minute, and I was throbbing inside him. Then I did close my eyes. He had to be afraid, had to be nervous. It couldn't just be me. I held his head and jaw and tried to imagine we were alone in my bedroom, and suddenly it was almost true and the familiar way his mouth spoke around me made me ache and gasp. He was doing everything he knew I liked best, those little shoves with his tongue and then wet tugs on the head of my dick.

I could feel my knees loosening as he worked me over, and I was climbing up inside him and that's when he let me go and shoved my hip and another mouth slid over me and I cried out and came hard.

Wrong. Too wrong. I pulled away, still shooting, and I left a streak across Carter's cheek. But it was enough. It had better be. Then I stumbled away and put my hands up to cover my face and I tried not to cry like a homesick kid. Some fearless leader.

Daniel's arms came around me from behind, wrapping around my chest. He hooked his chin on my shoulder for a moment and said quietly, "Just once more and then it's over, Jack."

Once more and I might--

"I'm going to lose it," I told him. "I'm losing it here." I could see the edge, I was teetering on it.

"You're not."

We moved away from the others, and I...I had to turn my back on them. I needed to be in my own little world now; to block out Carter and Teal'c and the spectators and all thoughts of the future. It was just me and Daniel and my dick, which had to rise to the occasion one last time. Well, that was in Daniel's hands now.

Yeah, I was losing it.

"Jack?" Poor Daniel. I tried to stop laughing for his sake. I covered my eyes again for a minute. I didn't want to see his worried expression.

"I'm fine. Fine. Let's just do it." And my laughter expired as quick as it had hit.

He bent on one knee next to the bowl of oil and began working it into himself. His head was tucked down and he was so focused, so clinical, you might almost believe he wasn't aware of anyone else. But the hunch of his back said otherwise and the shame almost unmanned me. Oh god. My sight greyed at the edges and I had to sit down, fast. Or maybe collapse.

"Jack." My vision cleared. His hands were steadying me; one hand slicker than the other on my left arm. He met my eyes.

"Yo," I said, the sound floating up from hollowness inside me. I had no breath in my body.

He moved his hand lower and we sat there and stared into each other, talking without words as he stroked me. We were close enough to kiss, but he didn't make a move and I had no strength to. It took longer, but I figured they'd have to expect that. I thought once, dazedly, what if I'd brought a hundred men, and decided never to share that question.

Daniel said my name again and I dragged myself from the void. I was hard. Hadn't noticed. He turned for me and went down on his hands and knees; if I'd lifted my head to look through the gauzy curtains I could have seen just that image painted on the wall. My gaze followed the tight clench of his shoulders, down the knobs of his spine. We didn't do this position often. Hard on the knees.

"I'm ready," he said, reminding me.

"Right." I touched him and it was like the first time, except a nightmare, my hands trembling, the fate of the world depending on getting this right. I softened under the pressure.

Take two. His mouth again, his tongue. He made sure I was closer to the brink this time and when he rose from me, mouth red, he said for no one else to hear, "You just need to want me, Jack. We're alone. Do you want me?" He was my personal hypnotist and I nodded at his cue. I was a long, long way from home at that point. I was dreaming I floated in space, looking down at Earth. Tethered by a thin cord.

He turned again and offered himself to me, and I entered him with a mechanical thrust. He made a sound and my vision cleared. I dropped back into myself and shook and panicked.

"It's okay," he said. "It's okay. I'm good. Keep going."

But I was aware of reality again. Reality sucked. I was glad I couldn't see whether Carter and Teal'c were watching us. Glad isn't the word. Sick, soul-searing anguish washed over me and I struggled to breathe. And not to think.

He pushed back against me and got busy squeezing. His face was turned to one side at a sharp angle, like he was trying to make eye contact with me; but his eyes were closed. He had a look of concentration on his face that would have bugged me if this had been making love and not a public fuck. Even so, I couldn't take it to see him looking like that, joyless and determined. I reached for his dick, but he shifted under me and batted my hand away.

"Don't." His voice was stubborn. He'd rested his head on the mat now. All I could see was the curve of his neck and hair, his red ears.

I didn't say anything, but I was...angry. It was okay for me to put it all out there on display, but not for him? I shouldn't have been angry, I know. He obviously wanted to get this over with, not to get caught up. This was all fucked. Bad. Wrong. Nothing could have been more wrong. No one should have been seeing this between us, but they were, and I needed him with me. It was different than with Carter and Teal'c. It was him and I couldn’t let it be like this. I kept reaching for him and he kept pushing my hand away.

"Stop it," he hissed. "Stop." My anger kept rising and it made me harder, but more frustrated. I knew he was hard. I'd been able to tell the moment his rhythm changed. I'd heard that little gasp he makes when I've hit the sweet spot; and he couldn't help it, he started angling for it. He was in cadence now, his back glowing with sweat, but his body stayed closed against me. That was unlike him. Usually by now--riding me--his mouth would have fallen open; he'd be chanting my name.

"Daniel," I said, desperate.

"Finish it," he said, "I want you to. I want you, Jack." His voice was low and his body lied; he may have been hard but he didn't want this. "I want you to come. Come inside me." I gasped and bucked and drove deeper inside him while my hands bruised his hips. "Harder," he said. "Harder." He chanted this but it was an empty, toneless chant. He was as empty as I was and I wanted to weep. I arched and threw back my head, blinded with tears, and swallowed the terrible rage and pain that would have burst out of me in wave after wave of yells if I'd let it.

I came. We came undone.

The tough part wasn't pulling a story together but delivering it convincingly, without it seeming too rehearsed. We weren't used to lying.

"They had a funny idea of friendly, General," I said. That was my summary, after all the rest was said and done. We were sitting around the briefing table. I had my coffee, but couldn't drink it. Carter was an olive-drab blur at the corner of my right eye; Teal'c this hard, dark profile that I could have chipped a tooth on. Daniel sat next to me, and I'd never wanted to be further away from him than that moment.

Hammond nodded. The flat line of his lips could have meant anything; displeasure, sympathy, skepticism, but with our lengthy medical checks and initial reports behind us, he was beginning to warm up. "So it sounds. I'm glad to have you back." He looked around the table. "You had me as worried as I've ever been. Not being able to get a team to you was...well, if I'd had any hair left to tear out, I'd still be looking like this about now." He sketched a salute at his bare scalp and smiled, but his eyes were still serious.

We'd been gone over a week. A day after we hit dirt, SG-4 returned through the gate with a nasty bug that had everyone retching up green slime in two hours flat. The mountain had been quarantined, which was why no rescue. We'd ended up meeting SG-3 on the way back to the gate and they'd relieved us of our guns and escorted us home, through the grape fields, through the frogs; almost all them convinced that we were Gou'ald.

"We're glad to be back, sir," said Carter. Her voice, small and guarded, spooked me.

"Yes," said Daniel, like a robot coming to life.

Hammond dismissed us with a friendly directive to file our written reports and take three days leave. We smiled, we stood, we didn't look at each other, we left. I wrote my report slowly and then scrolled through each screen at a crawl, checking for discrepancies, red flags, anything that would make some desk-riding Pentagon puke sit up and take notice. This had to be air-tight. No questions could ever be asked. Not the tough ones, anyway.

Carter knocked at the door of my office when I was still reviewing my words and thinking too much about what I'd left out. I looked up, saw her, and my heart tripped. She knew about me and Daniel now; even if we never spoke about it, her eyes couldn't hide the knowledge. How I'd learn to live with that, I had no idea. She seemed to waver for a second, then came in.

"Sir, I wanted to drop off a copy of my report with you. If you could look it over, I'd appreciate it. I'll be here for another hour or so." She handed a disk over. Needless to say, it's been a long time since I've signed off on Carter's reports; these days I just get my copy along with everyone else when it goes to the general.

"Thanks, Major."

She nodded, hesitated like she might say something to me, then turned heel and walked out. Briskly.

Daniel brought his next, then Teal'c. They must have talked. I didn't want to contemplate that conversation. I reviewed the reports, and sent them all e-mail that said, "Rubber stamp." Then I filed mine too and went home.

Daniel let himself in a half-hour after I got there. I'd had time to shower and down a shot--okay, three--and was sitting on the couch with the TV going. Hair loss. A really long commercial about hair loss. I hadn't been watching it. I'd been looking at the cover of a book on Egypt that Daniel had bought me a while back. One of those big coffee-table books, and I'd put it there. On my coffee table. It had a picture of King Tut on the cover.

"Hi," he said. I heard his keys drop somewhere with a clink. The TV's sound was off.

"Take a shower," I told him.

He climbed the stairs and I stared at Tut some more and thought about Ra and Daniel and Gou'ald and sex, and a lot of other things that jumbled senselessly together in my head. Then I followed him upstairs and sat on the edge of my bed and waited.

The shower stopped and he came out, toweling off, dripping on my rug. He saw me sitting there and his hands paused in the rubbing of his hair.

"You're out of shampoo."

"I'm out of a lot of things. Luck. Gas. My mind."

"It's over now."

"It's over? You think it's over?" I stood, primed for a fight. "Carter knows. Teal'c knows."

"Wait. That's all you're taking away from this? You're upset not because we were all forced to demean ourselves in a public sexual ritual--but because they know?" He sounded truly clueless, and I wanted to hit that look off his face, bad.

"Yes! Do you think I give a fuck what a bunch of grape-swilling aliens thought?"

"They're not aliens--"

"Don't even start."

"I'm not the one who started anything." He was beginning to react, I was beginning to get a rise out of him.

"You got down on your knees and sucked my cock in front of God and everyone!"

"Oh," said Daniel. He stared at me. "I see. What would you have preferred, to fumble around for hours until they decided your leadership was ineffective--or maybe to have Sam suck you off?" The angrier Daniel gets, the colder and crueler he gets. I'd taught him sarcasm too well. Get him wound up and he'll make you feel like a speck of dirt under his microscope, beneath contempt. I knew he wasn't the arrogant, heartless bastard he sounded like, but he made me see red.

"I'd like to see you try getting it up three times for a firing squad," I said savagely. "But hey, no sweat for you, right? Just kneel there and take it."

His mouth hung open a moment before he spoke. "I did my part."

"Yeah, but your part did nothing," I said, giving his words a vicious twist and pointing between his legs.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You know damn well."

His brows pulleyed up his face. "Wait. You wanted me to come just because you had to?"

"You're my lover, Daniel." A soft word, but my voice was sharp and harsh. "Carter, Teal'c--they had to take it. You could have--" I stopped, throat tightening, confused anger and hurt welling up all over again.

"We weren't making love. We were performing."

"Maybe you were." I turned away, my body seized with a need to lash out, and God, I hated myself. I'd been dwelling on this for hours, but I must have sounded insane to him. I was being irrational and crueler than he could ever be, and knew it. I knew it like I knew my own face in the mirror. Daniel sure as hell didn't owe me an apology for anything. But if we didn't fight...if we didn't fight, we'd die.

I stood there, and he stood behind me, still over there, far away. A world away. I felt like I was back on that stage, my vision glazing over, heart racing with fear. And then, as he'd done before, he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me and rested his head on the shelf of my shoulder.

"We could make love now."

My heart wrenched and almost broke with tenderness. It was a hell of an offer, considering what I'd just said to him, but I was too far gone to acknowledge his generosity. I couldn't take his offer with gratitude when this thing burned low and dark inside me.

"Right now I just want to fuck you." Like I got fucked.

His arms came down and he drew back so that we weren't touching. "Okay."

He didn't need to make me hard this time. Exhaustion should have been claiming my body by then, but I was aching. I got naked and went to the bed. I lay flat on my back, and I...I stared up at the ceiling. My plan was to lie there and let Daniel take care of things.

He's good. His hands are good. His mouth...fierce. I felt his head bend over me, hot breath and then...oh, god. I pushed up into his tight, wet mouth and he let me fuck that juicy sweetness for a long time, but finishing that way wasn't in the picture. I bit back a groan when his mouth went away. He grabbed the stuff from the drawer and started slicking up my hard-on with his right hand. I knew what he had to be doing with his left; when he straddled me he wasn't completely unready, but he sat down on me faster than he should have, and my eyes flew open.

"Be careful!"

"I'm fine."

I glared at him. He was frowning, the frown that said, I'm thinking about something else right now. He began working himself up and down, and christ that felt good.

I reached for his dick, but he batted my hand away. There was a challenge in his eyes, and the fire I'd been stifling flared up and consumed me. I reached for him again and he grabbed my hand, and then we matched grips, his fingers mashing with mine, left to right, right to left, as we battled to stalemate. I stayed furious and hard. He rode me and I let him, but I did nothing else to move things along. Our gazes were locked and glowering. He was determined to make me come first, and rocked himself back and forth on me.

I thought he might win, but then he gasped and his insides clenched. I gritted my teeth. "Oh god," he said. The hard grips of our hands tightened even further. His body continued to seize around me and his dick rolled against his belly. I pushed my hips up and he rode the swell again and again. "Jack," he said. "Jack." His grip loosened and I drew my right hand away. When I reached for him this time he let me take him in my grasp. I rubbed my thumb up under the head of his dick; he bucked.

"Look at me," I said.

He met my eyes and I stroked him with my thumb again and I could see his own deep anger flickering across his face and how much he wanted to hold onto it. I steadied him on me, one hand gripping his ass, the other jerking him off. He lifted his chin and arched and I could feel how much he loved me, the way it rolled through his body as if a key had suddenly unlocked him. It was always that sudden for Daniel. I could read him like a book by now. He was the only book I wanted to read.

He came. I came. We came undone.

He'd fallen asleep, and so had I but it didn't last. I went back to the TV. Later, he woke and called for me.

"Down here," I said.

When he came down, I gave him a beer to match mine. He had on a pair of my boxers, the ones I never wear. It was odd. We didn't talk for a while. I'd lit a fire. The same commercial about hair loss was playing again as it had been hours before. From separate couches we both watched the silent images until the ad ended, and then part of a fresh one about real estate sales. I think. He turned it off half-way.

"Do you think the story will work?"

I made myself gather the will for speech; it came out fueled by a sigh. "I don't know. It was close to the truth. Ugly enough that they probably won't dig unless we seem...stressed."

"Are you okay?"

I looked at him, boggling. He was serious. As if there could be more than one answer to that question. "What do you think?" I asked.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"Daniel." I was at my last rope. There was something in me that…I could have taken his head off. Literally. Nearly. He'd been so strong on 421. Now he was the ordinary Daniel again, blinking at me from behind his glasses, oblivious and difficult. And I, I was just a man who'd had a hell of a day. I was ordinary too, not noble, and leadership had its limits. He'd have to learn to deal with it.

"Just shut up, okay?" I said it as nicely as I could, which wasn't nicely. But he let me. Then I added, "And...stay." It came out more of a desperate request than the permission I'd thought I was granting.

He bent his head and fiddled with his beer bottle. Then he came and sat with me. We sat, drank more beer, didn't talk. He rubbed my thigh and kissed my shoulder and didn't press me for more. An hour, maybe longer passed, the fire dying.

"I..." My voice was like gunshot in the silence and he roused himself.

"What?"

"What you did. God, Daniel." I was crying. It had just crept up and kicked the wind out of me. My face felt like wood, and the tears drying felt like cracks in the surface. He would rescue me even when I didn't notice, when I yelled at him for it. Only another soldier will do that for you. A soldier, or family.

"It bothers you. You wish I hadn't." His voice told me he didn't believe that, but he asked it.

"No. You don't--you know I--don't listen to me when, when I get like that. Don't listen to anything I say."

"I don't."

Sara hadn't either. She'd been able to ignore my words and listen to my meaning. Daniel was like her. He listened deeper, and translated. We got a lot of things wrong between us, but we got something right, too. I wanted to ask him if he was all right, but I wasn't quite ready for the conversation we might have or not have. Tomorrow I'd ask him, or the next day, and he'd give an answer to me. I'd listen then, and give him whatever he needed. I would.

We sat a while longer.

At one point he leaned over and picked up the book on Egypt from the coffee table. He started to flip through it, then to read it. He was reading it.

"There can't be anything in there you don't already know," I said, when I couldn't stay silent any more.

"No, but it's interesting. Look at this--this is the Temple of Queen Hatshepsut in Deir el Bahri, designed by her lover, Senemut. These temple reliefs were the first to depict the divine birth of the king, but the king here was a queen, Hatshepsut, the first female Pharaoh." He paused, his fingers touching the shiny page. "Born divinely of Amun-Ra."

"Well, we know what that means, don't we." It meant that next week we'd gate out again and this time maybe run into this Hotcha-chick who'd want to put a snake in our head. Or cloud our minds and make us have kinky sex. With her, with each other. With snakes.

I watched him turn the pages of the book, and thought of when Charlie learned to read. It wasn't hard to picture him next to me, head bent as he sounded out the words, and under that picture was another, and if I sifted through I could see him learning to ride his bike, then the first day of school, first crack of his bat. Ground ball to left field. Right in front of Jessie Tanner's car, actually, but still perfect. Some days, like now, I remembered that I'd had a family once, lived in a home instead of a house. I'd done family things. Gone to the park, flown kites, had cook-outs. I'd had a life here on Earth.

And I was a family guy, when it came down to it. I was never going to change. I wanted to do stuff like that again. I wanted something to look forward to when I retired again. Living alone, medals in a drawer, old security cards in my wallet, one-course meals when I remembered to eat them--I didn't want to be that man.

"So, how do you feel about bowling?" I asked.

That made Daniel look up. "Bowling? As in...bowling?"

"Before you say it like that, have you ever bowled?"

"Um." He had to think. Or pretend to. "No."

I took the book away from him, put it back on the table. "You can't claim full Earth citizenship until you've bowled at least one game. Of at least a hundred."

Daniel gave me his finest frown. "Have you told Teal'c this?"

"I'm telling you. I'm taking you bowling."

"In public?" Then he met the stare I was giving him. "Just checking. Is there any…reason for this?"

"Just making sure your paperwork's in order."

"My paperwork."

"Just checking off the boxes." I pulled him closer.

"Uh-huh." He let me pull him closer.

"Crossing the i's, dotting the t's." I kissed him, buzzing on beer and deep tiredness. Needy. But I can be needy, once in a while. Maybe even longer.

"Oh," he said, into my mouth.

Hello, Earth.
 
 

End

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