Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

*****

He'd lost Daniel before he'd ever had a chance to savor the having.

It hadn't been a noble choice, a martyred sacrifice in the name of enslaved people, or dying people, or people who were just having a bad day. No, he'd lost his chance to be with Daniel because he'd been a goddamned ass, but that wasn't anything new. Daniel, of all people, knew what a prick he could be, and had, up until now, always forgiven him.

Sitting in the infirmary, awaiting the all-clear to shower and report for the briefing following the mission that had turned his life upside down, Jack was finally, brutally honest with himself. When it came right down to it, all these years, his oath had just been a convenient excuse.

And maybe he was as dumb as he pretended to be, because any reasonably intelligent person should've seen it coming.

*****

Six days previously

The structure was enormous. Although they'd seen it as soon as they stepped out of the gate, it'd taken them almost an hour to reach it at a brisk walk.

What appeared to be the only building for miles around --as far as four UAVs could fly-- was made of a brushed metallic substance, cube after cube after cube of it in mind-numbing repetition, each surface appearing to be brushed to a coppery sheen one moment, and seeming nearly translucent the next. It caught the sunlight and reflected the clouds like thousands of mirrors, soaring hundreds of feet into the air.

At first glance, it reminded Jack of the pavilion they were building in downtown Chicago, all shiny and sleek. There wasn't a pane of glass in sight, and the rounded waves of metal stretched and swooped and seemed to go on forever, twisting this way and that. Sometimes it appeared as though the building was moving, but it was just a trick of the eye that registered the motion of the clouds playing across its surface. The sight of it was mesmerizing.

"It's reminiscent of the Guggenheim in Bilbao," Daniel mused as they walked.

"The hell you say?" Jack poked. Daniel'd been oddly quiet while gearing up for the mission, probably due to the whole Anna-the-hybrid drama from a few days before. Helluva thing to happen, and of course, Daniel would take it personally. Jack wished he'd been there for him. They were all just a little off, but then two weeks downtime would put a crimp in any well-oiled machine.

"Oh, um, an art museum in the Basque region of Spain, designed by the Canadian architect, Frank Gehry, and made entirely of titanium panels. His style's considered to be an example of deconstructiveism, but Gehry himself insists--"

"So you're thinkin' this Gehry fella somehow decided to retire offworld?" Jack asked, glad Daniel had taken the bait. He was already loosening up just a bit.

"Sure, Jack," Daniel agreed slowly. "It's been said by his detractors that his genius has run dry, that he's been repeating himself, so coming here and putting this up could have just been his way of getting away from all the negative press." At Jack's answering smirk, he added, "Or it could just be a really, really, cool coincidence."

Bingo, mission accomplished. "Any idea what's inside, Carter?"

"As far as I can tell, it's about the size of five city blocks. Whatever the metallic panels are made of, they're blocking any attempt to scan the inside. Emissions, energy readings, people," shrugging, she looked up from her instrument. "The material looks a lot like BMG--"

"BM...?"

Carter smiled. "BMG, sir. Bulk Metallic Glass. Both Stanford and Cal Tech have grants and are working with NASA to refine the compound mix, to address the vulnerabilities in the original formula. It's roughly twice as strong as window glass, but the problem has been that the stronger it gets, the more brittle it becomes." She appraised the structure in front of her. "If that's what it is, it looks like they've solved the brittleness issue... fascinating stuff, sir."

He barely managed to keep from rolling his eyes. "Yes, I'm sure it is, Carter. Teal'c? You ever seen anything like it?"

Teal'c craned his neck to see the very top of the building and hummed his approval. "I have not. It is quite beautiful, however."

They stopped just outside the structure, each of them reaching out a hand to touch the cool metal, and Carter let out a little huh under her breath as she studied the readout on the device she carried.

"Something?" Jack asked.

"I'm not sure, sir. These readings seem to indicate residual energy, as though from something like a staff weapon blast. As though someone shot at it, but instead of disrupting the material, it just dispersed the force. Stored it."

"Huh. That might be useful," Jack mused, as if that weren't the world's lamest understatement. "You've got no idea what it is?"

"Not a clue."

"Is this material native to this planet?" Teal'c asked, his hand still resting on the slick surface.

"That's hard to say. This stuff's clearly been refined and processed, but without knowing what the base element is --or are-- I don't really know what to scan for."

"Okay, kids..." Jack took point, and Sam and Daniel filed in after him, splitting off to either side and sweeping the room with their tac lights. Teal'c stood guard just outside.

Once they'd crossed the threshold, illumination came on from no apparent source, making it clear the structure was but one vast room. Despite its skyscraper-like appearance on the outside, there seemed to be no subsequent floors; the ceiling was so high, their lights didn't even begin to penetrate the shadows above them. The echo of their combined footfalls in the cavernous room was impressive.

Jack straightened, snapping off his lamp, and called over his shoulder, "Come on in, Teal'c. Looks like nobody's home."

Diagonally from the entrance, at the far end of the structure, was a large, dark object, and they moved as a group in that direction. Along the way, long tables were set up in random arrangement, piled high with items that immediately caught Daniel's eye, and he split off to investigate.

Sam studied the device in her hand and frowned, coming to a standstill after a dozen steps. "That's not--"

Jack and Teal'c stopped as well. "Carter? Is that what I think it is?"

She turned to him. "Yes, sir. The same signature as a quantum mirror."

"Aw, crap, that's all we need," Jack frowned.

"Whatever race developed the mirrors apparently believed in parallel redundancy."

Daniel's ears perked up, and he spun to look where Sam was aiming her instrument. "Quantum mirror? Seriously? Tha-that's great! We've got another chance--"

"Chance for what?" Jack scowled. "Because it was such a party the last two times you went through?"

"No, you don't understand," Daniel argued, rejoining the group. "Destroying the mirror was a mistake. There's so much we can learn --once we figure out how to actually use it-- so much we can give to the other realities. We can all benefit from pooling our knowledge."

Jack scoffed, "What's to keep their bad guys from comin' into our reality, any time they want to? What if the Goa'uld get hold of the mirror? How many realities could they mess up, without even breaking a sweat? They'll be off raping and pillaging their way across the Milky Way in record numbers. I can see it now-- Goa'ulds we've already offed in this reality, all of a sudden back in the picture again. It boggles the mind!"

Carter had started slowly creeping forward with her instrument extended, and when she was about midway through the structure, the mirror suddenly shimmered to life, reflecting the interior of the room in which they were standing.

"Look out!" Jack called, weapon at the ready. "Carter," he complained, coming up to stand next to her. They'd double-teamed him again, Daniel engaging him in discussion, so Carter could sneak closer with her doohickeys. He doubted they even realized they were doing it. He felt Daniel brush past him on his way over to the Naquada slab.

"Damn it, Daniel," Jack bit off, striding after him. Reaching him less than twenty feet from the mirror, he grabbed his arm, jerking him to a stop, sliding his own body between Daniel and his intended destination. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he bit off.

"I didn't touch anything!" Daniel insisted, showing empty palms. He nodded his head to the right, where Sam and Teal'c now stood. "Sam's the one who turned it on."

"Oh, for cryin' out loud. You two'll be the death of me yet," Jack complained.

At least he could count on Teal'c to be mature about these things... although, at that very moment, out of the corner of his eye, he caught the big guy inching toward the slab. "Hey!"

Still blocking Daniel's way with his body, Jack looked sternly from one to the other of them, saving a special glare for Teal'c. "We are absolutely, positively NOT doing anything even remotely quantum-like without checking in with the SGC first. Everybody got that?"

"O'Neill," Teal'c pointed with one finger, eyes glued to the surface of the device, "is that not Daniel Jackson's office?"

Jack turned, noting with unease that the slab of dark gray rock now showed a desk in front of a lot of very familiar-looking, cluttered bookshelves. It looked a helluva lot like Daniel's office. His discomfort grew hackles, big, gnarly ones, when the image changed, and somebody else's Daniel shuffled into view, his nose in a book and a pencil clamped in his teeth.

The four explorers stood transfixed as Jackson sat down behind the desk and pawed through a messy pile of papers until he found one of the leather-bound volumes they all recognized, which he flipped open on top of a teetering pile of reference books. He frowned, removed the pencil, and proceeded to make notes in the journal.

"Déjà vu," Daniel whispered, staring at his double.

"At least you're alive in this one," Sam muttered. "That's new and different."

Evidently sensing their movement from the edge of his vision, Jackson glanced up, did a double take, then smiled and waved. He started to reach behind him, making four sets of hands on the other side reach for their weapons. When Jackson turned around, it was to prop a large cardboard sign against his monitor which read, 'We defeated the Goa'uld'. He didn't seem at all distressed that they were aiming most of their ordnance at him.

"Will you look at that--" Daniel murmured.

Jackson slipped the sign back, revealing the next one. 'Come on through, and we'll tell you everything.'

"Think he was expecting us?" Carter asked.

Perfect bait, Jack thought-- Daniel Jackson, peaceful explorer. "Well, that was too easy."

"Jack, let me--"

"No, Daniel. I've got a bad feeling."

Now Jackson was jabbering into his phone, holding up a 'wait' finger. Moments later, his O'Neill sauntered into frame, hands nonchalantly shoved into his pockets. They exchanged a few words while Jackson repeatedly pointed toward them, until finally O'Neill motioned for Daniel to hand over the last sign. He turned it face down and scribbled on the back. With a smirk, he held it up. 'This way to the big, honkin' space guns!'

"You have got to be kidding me," Jack muttered. How obvious could he... well, the other he, be?

"C'mon, Jack, why would they lie?" Daniel's eyes were still on the scene in the mirror. "They're us."

As they watched, Jackson dialed his phone again, never missing a beat as he continued his conversation and at the same time relieved O'Neill of the statuette he was carelessly flipping. He tucked it into his top right hand drawer for safekeeping, mindless of the other man's annoyed pout.

"I don't make faces like that," Jack stated flatly.

"Oh, you so do." Daniel was clearly fascinated with the scene playing out before them.

Frowning, Jack fingered his weapon as he watched their doppelgangers in Jackson's office act out their familiar dance; he thought he even recognized the gizmo the other him had been juggling. "I can think of a buncha reasons why they'd lie, Daniel. None of 'em good."

Daniel's lips thinned. "We should at least try. Look, I'll go. You stay here and watch my back."

The reference grated, but he kept his cool. "No way." Daniel hadn't yet been home from being ascended for even a whole year, and they'd already had way too many close calls to suit Jack. Stromos, anyone? Just, no.

"Sir, it's plausible that one of the parallel universes has discovered a way to defeat the Goa'uld that we haven't yet," Sam said reasonably as her own double slid into the picture. She eyed the woman with the long blonde hair, which was tucked into an attractive French braid. "We should really check it out."

"Et tu, Bluto?" Jack scowled. "There's a reason Hammond ordered that thing destroyed, y'know!"

"Actually, sir, this one doesn't look exactly the same as the one we--"

"And I don't think he'd be very happy to hear we were thinking of test driving the Mach II without permission, either," Jack reasoned. "And besides," he said, scooting an accusing finger all around the cavernous room, "any of you see the hand gizmo that dials this thing laying around anywhere?"

"I have been looking, O'Neill. I have not found one."

Good ol' Teal'c. "There, y'see?" Jack craned his neck around Sam to address the big guy directly. "Thank you, Teal'c," he said smugly.

Jack glared at Carter. "How do we know it won't change channels, or close up and turn off, once we're on the other side, stranding our ass? Es. Asses."

"It would appear that my counterpart has joined the Tau'ri in this timeline as well," Teal'c observed as the large black man entered the picture. "That bodes well for their offering to be sincere."

There was a long, silent pause, while they all checked out Mirror-Teal'c. "I dunno, T," Jack sniffed, squinting at his own Teal'c, as if trying to imagine him likewise. "He's got... hair. You trust him?" The hair in question was neatly combed back, nearly long enough to touch his collar, falling in glossy ebony ringlets.

Teal'c arched a brow and grunted softly. "That remains to be seen."

"Yeah, I'm with you, buddy," Jack muttered sourly. "Still too many unanswered questions for me."

"Jack, there's only so much we're gonna be able to find out without actually talking to them--"

In the mirror, their Jack had settled a hip on the corner of Jackson's desk, while their Carter chattered excitedly to her group. When her CO finally waved a go-ahead toward the mirror, and thus encouraged, Carter looked straight at Daniel, and her hands started moving.

"Oh, wait - Um."

Can you read this?

Daniel signed back, Yeah, but not too fast, OK?

Carter grinned and started again, and Daniel translated out loud. "There is no controller on your end. This is a specially-modified Quantum Mirror that only connects our universe to the... n-e-x-u-s. Nexus? Wha--? Um, uh... don't have to worry about not being able to get back to your reality whenever you're ready. This connection will stay open."

Rocking on his heels just a bit, and trying not to look smug, Daniel slid his hands into his pockets and turned to appraise Jack's surprised profile. "Huh. Guess that answers some of your questions, then." He managed to keep it down to a smirk when Jack snorted his annoyance.

"There is the matter of entropic cascade failure," Teal'c suggested.

"You'd think so, wouldn't ya?" Jack snapped. "How 'bout it, Carter?"

But Sam was still thinking about what her double had said, and didn't hear his question. "Modified how?" Sam asked out loud. When Daniel didn't immediately relay the question, she smacked him on the arm with the back of her hand.

"Oh. Um." He relayed the message, then repeated Carter's response. "We discovered how to create a dedicated line with virtually zero latency, powered by redundant control crystals the Tok'ra have helped us learn how to grow. There's more, and we're happy to share, but that's all the sign language I know." She shrugged, holding out empty hands.

Jack snorted again. "Their Tok'ra are helping them," he accused the room in general. Unlike their own, who were mostly a pain in Jack's ass. And no one had heard from Jacob since the debacle at the Alpha site.

"There may be a lot of differences between our universe and theirs, Jack," Daniel said urgently. "This may be the single greatest discovery we've ever made! An Earth free from Goa'uld oppression! They can tell us how they did it. We can't just walk away from this!"

Jack eyed him critically, thinking that walking away was just what he wanted to do; this whole thing was feeling creepier by the minute. "Ask 'em who their President is," he said quietly. Right now, in their timeline, Hayes and Kinsey were days away from being inaugurated, and no amount of beer could get that bad taste out of his mouth. If that was the case on the other side, they were outta there.

Daniel signed the question and relayed Jackson's spelled-out response. "b-a-r-a-c-k-o-b-a-m-a." Then he frowned, unable to make the letters into any recognizable name. "I don't..."

His confusion must've been evident, because Jackson scribbled on a piece of paper and then held it up "Barack Obama."

"O'Bama? What kind of Irish name is that?" Jack muttered. Anybody but Kinsey was good --great, in fact-- but this guy's first name sounded Muslim or something, and pretty unlikely as the President of the good old US of A.

"Barack Hussein Obama the Second," Teal'c reported. "In our reality, he is a liberal Democratic senator from your state of Illinois."

They all turned toward Teal'c. "How do you know that?" Sam asked with a little grin.

"I read an article in 'Who is Who in Black America'. He was listed as an influential black leader to watch, with many bipartisan achievements to his credit." He straightened his shoulders. "It does not surprise me that he has become the leader of your United States empire."

"So. Not Irish, then?"

"Leader of the free world is a long way from state senator," Daniel observed wryly, ignoring Jack's comment. He signed to his counterpart, speaking the words aloud for his friends. "What's the year?"

Jackson signed back, and Daniel translated softly. "Two thousand... six."

"They're five years ahead of us...?" Sam marveled.

"Is that even possible?" Daniel asked.

She shrugged, her expression dubious. "Evidently." Although I don't see how...

Frustrated, Daniel turned to Jack. "This is ridiculous. Let me go through, find out what they've got." He lowered his voice. "Please, Jack. This may be the turning point for our galaxy. If they already know where the lost city is--"

"The intelligence Bra'tac has received from Jaffa loyal to our cause indicates that Anubis has repaired the destruction of his laboratory, and is in search of another queen, so that he may once again produce Kull warriors by the thousands. We may not have much time."

Jack surveyed his team, registered their resolve, saw the spark in Daniel's eyes, and tried to think back to the last time he'd seen that level of excitement in his friend's face. "Carter, you and Teal'c get back to the gate, report in to Hammond, tell him we need SG-3, armed to the teeth, to guard the mirror while we all go through." His eyes slid toward Daniel and soaked up the appreciative nod.

Daniel spoke to Sam, his excitement obvious. "And have them bring Gonzales with them. He can sign for this side, and he can start cataloging this place while we're over there."

"Will do." She and Teal'c moved out.

While they were gone, Daniel sheepishly signed to Jackson, "They went for back-up."

Jackson smirked and nodded as though he'd seen that reaction before and relayed the information to his team. Grinning, Carter turned to O'Neill and gave him a fast kiss on the mouth.

"Aw, jeeze..." Jack groaned.

Then Carter turned and planted one on Daniel's lips.

"Uh oh." Daniel winced.

She flipped the mirror a grin and a wave, and then kissed her Teal'c on her way out of Jackson's office.

Jack and Daniel looked at each other for an uncomfortable beat, then they each moved away. Daniel ambled toward a long table full of artifacts, giving Jack a wide berth, with the excuse of giving them a quick once-over while they waited for Sam and Teal'c. Jack kept the mirror crew under a watchful eye.

Carter and Teal'c were back within the hour, along with a loaded SG-3 plus Gonzales. After a brief orientation with Colonel Reynolds, SG-1 was ready to go through.

"How long can we stay there before we start having those tremor thingies?" Jack asked as they got into position, he and Teal'c on the ends, Daniel and Sam in the middle.

"About 48 hours," she replied. "Forty would be safer."

"No, safer would be back at the SGC, eating pie," Jack sighed. "Okay, on three."

They reached forward in unison, expecting to appear in Jackson's office, but found themselves in a storeroom instead. Jack was instantly on the defensive, and he could feel the others in a similar state next to him.

Standing on the other side of the glowing doorway stood Jackson, hands up in a placating posture. "It's disorienting, I know," he assured them. "But you're safe. Sam's re-routed the image through about a dozen different cameras and monitors as a precaution. The force shield prevents... unfortunate accidents."

He moved his hands again, outward, welcoming. "If you'll slip those safeties back on, we can get started."

Jack considered Daniel's twin with narrowed eyes, but he could feel his Daniel relaxing beside him. "Stand down," he instructed his team.

"We take turns watching the mirror," Jackson was saying as they secured their weapons. "If it were in my office all the time, I'd never get anything done." Smiling warmly, he lowered the force shield on the door to let them through.

"And if someone unfriendly comes through, they're nicely contained, so you can deal with them," Daniel observed.

"Yeah, pretty much."

Jackson led them down familiar corridors toward the secondary armory, which made this level nineteen. He turned, walking backward a few steps as he addressed the group as a whole. "Um, listen, can I ask you guys to leave your ordnance with Sergeant Philips in the armory? We're all the good guys here, and you look loaded for bear. Especially you--" he peered around Jack until he could see Teal'c.

"I'm surprised to see that you're still carrying a staff weapon. Our Teal'c only drags his out for ceremonial occasions now."

Jackson received only an arched eyebrow in reply.

Jack registered Teal'c's reluctance to give up his weapon and opened his mouth to respond in the negative, when their host interrupted him. "You can, um, hang onto the Walther in your ankle holster, Jack, if it'll make you feel any better." The coy smile wasn't lost on any of them.

Jack forced a grin he didn't feel. "Don't mind if I do." He undid his P-90 from its lanyard and pulled the clip, then handed both over to the man on the other side of the half-door. He initialed the form on the clipboard and saw the man confirm the weapon cleared, then turn and put both into a cubby marked 'Mirror SG-1'. The rest of his team followed suit, relieving themselves of all their obvious ordnance.

"So," Jack said, rubbing his hands together in mock excitement. "Where's all the big, honkin' space guns?"

Jackson chuckled as they made their way to the elevator around the corner, then ran his card through the reader. "Jack thought you might like some refreshments before the briefing."

They all piled into the elevator, where Jackson pushed the button for the officer's mess on twenty-two. "We're setting up in the conference room up on sixteen. We usually hold these in the briefing room, but we've got three teams due in today, and the General's got the room. We can grab some fresh pie and coffee while we're waiting, though, so we've got that goin' for us."

Jack arched an eyebrow at Jackson's use of the familiar idiom, but made no comment and followed him out into the corridor, Daniel and Carter behind him, Teal'c bringing up the rear.

O'Neill was already there, in heavy negotiation with Martha, the lunch lady. When he saw SG-1 approaching, he grinned and met them halfway. Grabbing Jack's hand to shake it, he pulled him aside and waved Jackson ahead with the rest of their party. "There's devil's food cake and cherry pie," he called out to the group, "and you can have them both a la mode, if you ask. Load up, guys, it's on me."

Jack extricated his hand from his double, barely managing to suppress the urge to wipe it on his pants leg afterward. Looking at the guy was like peering into a skewed mirror-- a few more lines, a lot more gray, and creepier than crap. Of all people, Jack knew the damned distasteful things he'd done, and what kind of a heartless bastard this man could be, despite appearances. The friendly act grated, causing something in his gut to shift uncomfortably, but at least he managed to be civil. "Thanks for the snacks, hope you didn't go to any trouble."

"Nah." The other him waved the concern away. "When we got the report of the gate activation on 342, I had Martha whip up some stuff. She loves baking for me," he confided.

"Really?" Jack frowned. "My Martha has a five o'clock shadow and is a very stingy woman."

O'Neill leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, "Her birthday's March twenty-fifth, and she loves Godiva butter creams."

"Ah." Jack watched his team moving through the line behind Jackson with a slight unease, nothing he could put his finger on. "You do this a lot?"

"Yep. Now that our universe is safe, we feel it's kinda our responsibility to pay that forward, y'know?" He frowned a little as he considered, "Or maybe sideways would be more appropriate..."

"How many…?"

"I knew you'd ask, so I checked on that on the way up here. You're the twenty-third group that's come through since we set up shop."

"Sweet. So. You and Carter...?"

"...what?"

"You're, uh, together? Bumpin' uglies? Doin' the nasty--"

"With Sam? No!"

Jack couldn't read whether that was shock or horror on his double's face, which probably mirrored his own, just from hearing the man refer to her by her given name. His own relief that there were no inappropriate shenanigans going on was followed quickly by confusion. "Then--"

"But Danny and I've been married nearly six years," he added quietly.

That stopped him cold. "Danny?" In the other realities, O'Neill had always been hitched to some version of Carter. "You mean Daniel?" Jack couldn't help it; his eyes slid over to his Daniel, who was busy chatting up his counterpart over pie. "Jackson? Married? That's--"

"Well, we've been together for almost six. DA/DT only got repealed last year. One of Obama's first acts as President. So technically, only actually married about a year and a half, I guess." He studied Jack's face closely. "You're not surprised."

He was shocked as hell, but had it a little more under control at this point. "Not really."

"You two...?"

"Ah, no."

"Ah. I've discovered it's a good idea to bring the new Jack O'Neills up to speed privately. We don't like surprises."

"No. We sure as hell don't," Jack admitted. He was a little torqued at being referred to as the 'new' one, but eager to move the conversation to safer ground. He was impatient to get the lowdown on the big, honkin' guns and vamoose. Except... "So what's with the kissing?"

"Sam?" O'Neill shrugged. "The Ba'al thing got ugly. I died. A bunch of times, actually."

"Yeah, I hear ya. Wasn't my favorite vacation spot either."

"Rescuing me was a doomed op from the beginning; they shouldn't have even tried, but Daniel's a stubborn man and wouldn't take no for an answer. Teal'c was gravely wounded, everybody thought we'd lost him for sure that time, now that Junior's history. And Daniel... he recovered from his physical injuries pretty well, but then some of the deepest wounds don't show, y'know? Sam brought us all back. Told us she wouldn't allow any of us to give up, that she loved us and needed us." He shrugged. "Kinda a habit now, I guess."

Jack frowned. "Hammond okay with all the kissy-face?"

"We lost George last year, bless his soul. He's with his lovely Rose now."

"I'm, ah, real sorry to hear that. So who's in command now? You?"

"Hell, no!" O'Neill chuckled, confirming with a glance that the rest of the team had already been provisioned and was seated at two tables pushed together, way in the back. "That'd be Brigadier General Paul Davis. And yeah, he's fine with the kissing. C'mon, let's get some pie."

"Davis is a General?" Jack squeaked. "Paul Davis?"

"Why are you so surprised? He's always been a sharp guy."

"Yeah, yeah, he's Captain Paperwork, but he's hardly got the experience to run the front line of a combat command."

"Ah, but you forget, Grasshopper, we're not that anymore. Haven't been for nearly two years. The SGC's all about exploration and intergalactic cooperation now. Obama's taking us public soon."

They loaded two trays --one slice of pie al la mode and coffee for O'Neill, and cake and a Coke for Jack, and no, he wasn't being ornery. "So if the Goa'uld are gone, what is it you people do, when you're not running this dog and pony show?"

O'Neill slipped his card into the reader at the cashier's station, so the woman could account for all the food both teams had gotten. "Daniel and I are the Tau'ri ambassadors to about a dozen planets. T, too, part time. He splits his time between here and Dakara. He and Raknor are Bra'tac's chief henchmen in the Free Jaffa Nation."

"They have a Nation?"

O'Neill shrugged. "Teal'c wanted to call it the 'Free Jaffa Empire Strikes Back Nation', but Bray vetoed that pretty quick. T still gets kinda snippy about it, so don't mention it, 'kay?"

"So much is different here..."

"Yeah? Let's see if I can hit a couple of high points to pique your interest. Ah... Oh! Sam finally made an honest woman of Janet, and they're expecting their first grandchild any minute." O'Neill headed for the table where the rest were enjoying their refreshments, but continued to speak over his shoulder as he walked. "Siler managed to--"

"Wait-- Sam and Janet? Together?" Jack hissed to his back.

"Yeah, sure," he tossed over his shoulder, "long time now. Where was I?"

Jack reached out for his double, to turn him so he could see the other's face. "Wait-- Fraiser's alive?"

O'Neill frowned as he set his tray down on the table. "No, you wait. Yours isn't?"

Jack set his tray down in the empty space between Daniel and Sam, uneasiness filling his gut. "No. She's not." Suddenly , he wasn't in the mood for cake anymore.

"And what the hell happened to your Janet Fraiser?" O'Neill snapped.

"We lost her, coupla months ago. P3X-666." The only planet designation he couldn't make himself forget.

"Which one was that?" O'Neill barked.

"Wells. She was hit stabilizing Airman Wells--" he expected the Twilight Zone theme to start playing any minute now.

O'Neill's voice raised in anger as he leaned across the table. "Well, of COURSE she was hit!" he shouted. "You mean to tell me you never found the sarcophagus on 749?" Clearly, he was taking the death of his friend's alternate very personally.

"Which one was THAT?" Jack shouted back.

"Hey, hey, hey," Jackson interrupted, his hand on O'Neill's arm, unobtrusively urging the older man into his seat. "Leave you guys alone for a minute, and you're puttin' on a show for the lunch crowd. Do I need to put you two in time out?"

But by then, both Jacks were nose to nose over the center of the table and drawing stares from everyone in the mess. Both Daniels just rolled their eyes and grabbed their own Jack, dragging them out separate doors and down the corridor toward different elevators.

"I thought you weren't gonna be an ass this time?" Jackson snapped.

"They don't even have a sarcophagus, Daniel, how irresponsible is that?"

Across the room, Daniel got in close and hissed through gritted teeth, "We're their guests, Jack. Do ya think you could maybe keep from insulting them for ten minutes?"

"What're ya blaming me for? Jerkass started it!" What the hell did Daniel expect? They were never going to be friends, for chrissake.

Twenty minutes later, all eight of them convened in the level seventeen conference room, the Jacks having cooled off somewhat. Still, the Daniels made sure to seat them as far apart as possible, at opposite ends of the table.

Jackson started them off by dimming the lights and cuing up the presentation he knew by heart. The hour went fast.

"…and that's when we found the Eye of Ra," O'Neill added as the lights came up. "Anubis had gathered up the other five eye thingies and was developing a WMD of galactic proportions, all he needed was the Ra component. With a little advance intel from Teal'c's fifth column, Carter and her technogeeks were able to use the Ra piece to short circuit him. When he pushed the button, he went boom, and took Yu and a whole mess o' minor System Lords with him."

"That's very nice for you, but that eye-thingy, as you call it, has already been destroyed in our reality," Jack replied tightly. He could've done without rubbing Daniel's nose in the whole 'destroyed Abydos' bit, but it was too late now. "And Nubi and the rest of 'em are still goin' strong."

"So... Abydos is still-um, here in yours?" Daniel asked softly, looking down at his hands.

"Nope. Whole planet's gone," O'Neill said. "Blown to smithereens. But the backlash, when Anubis targeted the pyramid where Carter had stashed the warhead, took him out too. Fortunately, we'd gotten everybody relocated by then."

Daniel's head snapped up. "You saved them? Ska'ara?"

"Yeah, he's fine," O'Neill assured them with a smile. "Three kids now, and another on the way. We sent everybody to… Carter?"

"PXY-369. It's not quite as harsh as Abydos. They really love it there." She smiled. "They're thriving."

"Oh, god," Daniel muttered brokenly. They'd managed to save everyone, and from all accounts, all he'd done while he was playing avenging angel was rain destruction down upon his adopted family. He was desperate to ask about Sha're, but he was pretty sure he didn't want to do so in a group setting like this. At lease Ska'ara was still alive here...

O'Neill apparently took note of Daniel's state and added, "The mastages were an interesting logistical problem. Stinky beasts. Not terribly coordinated, either. Too big to tranq and move, so we used the moonshine to get 'em drunk."

Jack realized what his counterpart was doing and played along. "And that helped?"

"Surprisingly, yes. They became stoic and introspective and were much more easily led up the steps." He paused for effect. "Of course, you don't wanna be anywhere in the vicinity of the destination gate when they come through the wormhole," he stated authoritatively. "Did you know a mastage can projectile vomit about twenty five feet?" He shook his head in reflective amazement. "Talk about shock and awe."

Jack glanced around the table and watched the tension break as the mental picture of the drunken beasts made the rounds. Maybe his double wasn't a complete putz after all.

The mood sufficiently lightened, Jackson resumed the briefing. "We've, um, found that about fifty percent of the realities are in the same position as yours with respect to Abydos," Daniel said evenly. "Look, ours isn't the only way. We know that. This is just a high-level overview of how we've gotten where we are, to get things rolling. What we do next is break up into pairs and compare notes on a deeper level within each of our specialties, hoping to scope out the differences we can help you exploit in your reality when you leave here."

"Speaking of leaving," Jack said, pushing back his chair, "we've only got about thirty-seven hours left before we have to hiaka outta here to avoid those tremor jobbies."

"Actually, you've got a lot more time than that," Janet said smoothly as she moved in to take a seat beside Jack. From the corner of his eye, Jack could see his team visibly tense at her presence; it was like watching a ghost. Sam seemed most affected, although she was trying hard to hide it.

"With the help of the Asgard, we've developed a nanite which, when injected into an individual, renders his or her body just different enough on a molecular level to temporarily skirt around the entropic cascade failure problem."

Jack winced. "We've had some bad experiences with nanites, so we'll take a pass, if ya don't mind--"

"No, Colonel, you misunderstand. I injected the nanites into each member of our team, just before you came through. You've got three days before the devices naturally degrade and are expelled, before the tremors begin."

"Seriously?" Sam piped up, eyes wide. "That's remarkable."

Janet smiled. "Yep, and we can do a second round if need be, so you can stay here for a total of nearly seven days, if necessary."

"That's mighty kind of ya, ma'am," Jack said softly. It surprised him just how painful it was to sit there next to Janet's double, knowing she'd suffered the same fate as their Janet, but lived. Not that he begrudged her this life, but it only served to make him realize just how much poorer his own life was for the loss of her in his.

O'Neill stood and clapped his hands together. "Now that that's taken care of, there's the matter of hospitality. We've taken the liberty of assigning your team to space on level twenty-five, B wing, just down the corridor from our own on-base quarters. I'm sure you'll understand why we'd like you to stay on base, and to that end, topside's already been notified we have a mirror-group in house, so don't try to sneak out as us. Other than that, you're free to move at will throughout the complex." He looked down at Daniel, beside him. "Am I forgetting anything?"

"Mmmmm... I don't think so. Unless there's something you guys need before we pair up and get started?"

"Coupla minutes with my team," Jack replied steadily.

"Sure thing," O'Neill said easily. "When you're done, if you quantum counterparts will meet up with the four of us in our offices, we can get this show on the road." He gathered up his team with a glance and headed for the door.

"Where shall I meet you?" Teal'c asked his opposite as they both stood.

"I do, in fact, maintain an office here at the SGC, as I am occasionally required to transact Council business that would not be appropriate to conduct in my private quarters. It is located here on level seventeen, near O'Neill's."

"Very well."

Once the mirror folks left the room, closing the door behind them, Jack turned to perch a hip on the table as he addressed the expectant faces of his team. "Assume all conversations are being monitored. It's what I'd do. That being said, a certain amount of give and take will have to occur in order for us to get anything we can use out of this exchange, so you're all gonna have to use your own discretion." He paused, idly scratching the side of his nose, trying to find a way to word the part he really needed to say.

He cleared his throat and shifted a little uneasily as he rotated eye contact amongst the three of them. "It'd be unreasonable to assume that this'll all stay strictly business for the duration of our stay here. We've already seen they've got some whopping big differences here, and there are probably more, just as mind-boggling. I know you're curious, it's only natural, but keep your heads. They are not us. They may have made different choices along the way, and we can't even imagine what the circumstances might've been that drove those choices. We're going to have to think long and hard about which pieces of information we should share when we get back to our own reality, and which need to be deep-sixed, so we don't screw with our own grandfather thingy."

"Um, Jack...?"

Jack held up a finger and glanced at his watch. He was worried about Daniel most of all, about how he'd take it. Frankly, he was nervous as hell. "I'd like us all to touch base in the mess at 1830 hours, if you can manage to tear yourselves away, so we can see where we think we are at that point, get an idea how all this might go down and how long it's likely to take." They'd all know by that time that this reality's Jack and Daniel were married, and that Sam and Janet likewise were an item --and he wasn't sure if that last bit was guaranteed to make things more or less awkward-- and there'd be fallout to deal with, all around.

"Carter, set your watch for... T-70. Daniel, you should check in with Gonzalez, let them know we haven't been abducted by the Lollypop Guild." He forced a smile and shooed them away. "Go. Have fun, kids."

"Jack--"

"Daniel, we've been off the grid for more than an hour. Right now, Hammond's probably having puppies, and you're the only one who can tell them we're--"

"Right, got it. I'll just--"

Jack waved him on.

*****

He found the other Daniel in an office nearly identical to his own. "Hey."

"Hey." It was odd, being right up close to himself this way. He never noticed how pronounced his widow's peak was, or how large the round lenses of his glasses were, until he noticed the more oblong, rectangular shape of his alternate's eyewear. He thrust a thumb over his shoulder toward the corridor. "Can you let me into the mirror room, to check in with our people back home? Just take a minute."

"Sure. I could use a Coke, which is kinda on the way, so I'll walk with ya."

"Coke? Not coffee?"

Jackson snorted. "Jack's fault. He keeps me to three a day. Keeps telling me 'real' men take their caffeine cold."

"And you believe him?"

The other rolled his eyes and sighed as he slid his hands into his pockets. "Sometimes it's easier than arguing."

As they walked, Daniel took note of the fact that no one noticed. No one seemed to think it odd that there were two nearly identical Daniel Jacksons chattering to each other as they meandered through the corridors, as though this happened every day. Of course, for them, he supposed it did.

In the elevator, they briefly compared notes about growing up, and neither of them seemed surprised to find no discrepancies in their histories, right down to the foster families they'd had.

"If I've learned anything from all this quantum reality stuff, it's that things happen for a reason," Jackson mused. "Haven't come across a reality yet where our parents lived, for instance. Might be interesting to find a reality where they either didn't go to the museum that day, or were still out on the dig, and see how we --I-- turned out because of it."

Privately, that struck Daniel as more than a little cold to voice out loud, even though he'd occasionally wondered something similar himself, usually in between foster home placements. But they'd arrived at the safe room, so he watched his alternate punch in the code to the force shield without comment.

When the containment field wavered away, he stepped into the room and waved at the Marine on guard, who signaled Reynolds. Daniel observed the activity in his own reality through the mirror as they fetched Gonzales, who seemed to be at the far end of the cavernous building. He came jogging up moments later, grinning and signing away.

...unbelievable storehouse of antiquities from dozens of cultures I recognize, and about twice that many I've never laid eyes on before. Obviously they've been collected from all over the galaxy and brought here, but for what purpose? I've gotten video of all of it, but we really need--

Daniel smiled, recognizing a lot of himself at that age. Peter, slow down! You know ASL is just a hobby for me, right?

Gonzales looked contrite as he tried to rein in his runaway eagerness in front of his boss. Sorry, Daniel, it's all just so cool! He suddenly seemed to remember that Daniel had initiated the contact. Did you need something?

Regular check-in, Daniel reported. I need you to forward this to the SGC. Do you want to get something to take notes on?

Peter grinned. Nope. Colonel Reynolds had the MALP brought here, so you guys could have real-time contact. You sign, and I'll relay it out loud.

Oh. That was good thinking. You need to dial it up?

Already done. General Hammond is standing by.

Oh. Okay, let's see... he noticed Gonzales's lips moving, and looked over the man's shoulder so it wouldn't distract him. We've had our first group meeting, and we're pairing up to start the in-depth stuff now. He made an off-the-cuff decision to avoid mentioning Fraiser for the time being, and continued, They use some kind of new nanite technology on the local team to make them just a little bit different from us, so they can put off the cascade tremors from three to seven days. That should give us plenty of time to get what we need from here, but you guys might want to think about rotating another team through, to give SG-3 a break. That's gotta be pretty boring, just sitting there. Daniel paused for a moment. Don Shaner has ASL, doesn't he?

Peter frowned. He does, but if it's all the same to you, Daniel, I'd really like to complete the cataloging myself. Y'know, for consistency's sake.

Daniel smiled. Yep. They were a lot alike. Okay, but I better not find out from Reynolds that you forgot to sleep or eat occasionally.

Peter grinned and gave him a thumbs up.

Daniel did his best to look stern. Tell him, Peter.

Peter's smile faded as Daniel saw his lips form the words. He only hoped it'd actually been out loud. Thank you. Does the General have anything for me?

After a slight pause to relay the question, Peter signed, Doctor Jackson, have they given you any indication of just how it is they were able to defeat the Goa'uld?

Yes, sir. Apparently, there's a --and I'm quoting, here-- 'big, honkin' space gun' pretty close to home. However, obtaining the device to do any research on how it works might be a bit tricky. I think you might want to sit on this information until we get back with all the details, sir.

Understood, Doctor Jackson, I look forward to hearing your full report. Are you in a position to check in regularly?

Is once a day sufficient, General?

Doesn't sound like there are any hostiles to worry about on your end, and everything's quiet here. Once a day should be fine.

Then I'll report back at this time every afternoon. See you tomorrow.

*****

"Let's stop in here for a minute," O'Neill said, motioning with his head down the corridor. He opened the door and stepped inside, and Jack followed him. "Spare BDUs, etcetera, in the dresser, toiletries in the bathroom. Also, no surveillance in here," he announced meaningfully.

Jack looked around the room, eying the double bed with trepidation. "This better be a single."

O'Neill closed the door quietly, then crossed his arms and leaned next to it. "It's not. Most of the quantum teams we've run into have their Jacks and Daniels paired up; we've found it's the norm. This whole wing is Married Officer's Quarters. We're just next door."

Jack's lips thinned. "Daniel can have it, then. I'll crash in the bunkroom," he announced stiffly.

His alternate shook his head in puzzlement. "You aren't together, but you want to be; I can hear it in your voice. This is the perfect opportunity. Think of it as a pre-honeymoon--"

"Doesn't matter how I think about anything," Jack said tightly. "I have a duty."

O'Neill rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. Don't feed me the frat regs."

Jack whirled on him, tearing his eyes away from the bed he wouldn't be fucking Daniel on anytime soon. Or ever. "You took an oath!" he accused.

"I know that!" O'Neill snapped, coming up off the wall. "Don't you think I know that?" How he'd agonized before finally making the decision, before going where his heart had led him. He was more than aware of what he'd done, the choices he'd made, but at the time, it'd been the only decision he could make. He'd made peace with it, because the alternative wasn't acceptable in any way.

"The regs are clear," Jack stated rigidly. "You violated them."

"You're a fine one to preach to me about regulations, buddy," O'Neill snapped, pacing to the other side of the room.

"I haven't violated my oath."

"Oh, who are you kidding? You violate it every time you make a decision that protects him."

"He's a civilian under my command-- it's my job!"

"You're fooling yourself, or you're blind, one. You've turned him into a soldier, for cryin' out loud! You've remade him into your own image. What's his rating on the range these days? Marksman, or is he over 200?" At Jack's flinch, he added, "So. Sharpshooter then... or better?"

Jack didn't bother to deny it. "He needs those skills to survive out there."

O'Neill pulled out one of the straight backed chairs, spun it around and straddled the seat, folding his arms along the back of it. "Yeah, I know. And how does it feel to know you've killed the very things you first loved about him?"

"Quit changing the subject! You lost your integrity the first time you fucked him!"

Eyes hard as flint, his double growled dangerously, "I don't regret taking him, making him mine. And if you were smart, you'd make your move before it's too late, before someone else takes him away from you, right from under your sanctimonious nose!"

Jack turned away before that particular shade of grief could be seen in his eyes. He'd watched Daniel choose to stay with Sha're, and lived. He'd watched the women that came after --and a few men over the years-- and each time, a little piece of himself had gone cold. Then when Daniel had up and died on him, he'd known he'd lost his chance. Until Vis Uban. Only fools tempted fate, but... "It's just... not in the cards right now," he mumbled.

His double shook his head in amazement. "If you wait for it to fall into your lap, it never will be; there's always one more crisis to get through first. Danny and I? We treat each day like it could be the last, because it could just be. Even at peace, we're only one gate disaster away from the fat lady's last aria." He appraised the other man's rigid body language, and deduced the closed mind. "You're gonna be stupid again, aren't ya. Make assumptions that people can read your mind, and know what the fuck you want but can't say, and you're gonna drive him away, just like you did Sara."

Jack turned again to face the accuser who wore his face. He'd done that and more to Daniel near the end of it; he wasn't proud of it, and he certainly didn't want it shoved in his face. "You shut your mouth! You don't know what the hell you're--"

Standing, O'Neill slammed his hand flat onto the table and yelled, "I DO know! Better than anyone! You could've stopped her from leaving you, if you'd've opened your goddamn mouth even once-- you could've saved your marriage."

Jack stopped pacing and thrust an angry finger in his double's direction. "I'm not you!"

"No, you're not," O'Neill agreed readily, coming around the chair. "Because I've got a happily ever after. I've got Daniel Jackson in my bed every. Single. Night. And what do you have? Zip. You've loved him for years, haven't you. Since Abydos. You're just too much of a coward to tell him."

"I CAN'T!" Jack was right up in his face now.

"Why the hell NOT?"

"Because I wouldn't be able to stop there!" And he wouldn't. He'd open his mouth, and all kinds of flowery crap would fall out, and Daniel would probably be horrified.

O'Neill considered Jack for a long moment. "And why, exactly," he asked softly, "would that be such a bad thing?"

He didn't bother waiting to see if Jack could come up with an answer before he demanded, "You got a Cameron Mitchell on your side?"

The conversational left turn was unexpected. "Who?"

"Mitchell. Cameron. Lt. Colonel. Good lookin'. Knees that work. You got one of those?"

With an annoyed frown, Jack waved him off. "I dunno, name sounds kinda familiar. Not at the SGC, maybe a pilot out of Nellis or McMurdo..."

O'Neill nodded. "That's the one. He was at McMurdo on this side, too, 'til he transferred in to take my place on SG-1."

"Your point?"

"He was here two whole days before he made a move on Daniel."

Jack's jaw wanted to clench, but he maneuvered the instinct into a sneer. "Your Daniel encourage him?" He chuckled meanly, trying to make it seem as though it didn't concern him at all. Like watching Daniel flirt with anyone had ever been easy. "Maybe he's a little more than you can handle with your bad knees?"

But his mirror-buddy wouldn't take the bait. "As a matter of fact, I've got brand new knees now, courtesy of the Nox, thank you very much. And let's face it, every Daniel Jackson, in every reality, is sex on a stick, and you know it. He didn't have to encourage it. Mitchell saw what he wanted, and he went after it."

"I'm not worried. McMurdo's a long way from Cheyenne Mountain."

"Ye-ah," O'Neill snorted, "but you forget-- this timeline's Mitchell is right here, and due to be back on world around lunchtime tomorrow. And you haven't even told your Daniel you're interested, have you." He wrinkled his nose into a smirk. "Don't wait till the last minute, pal. I'd go ahead and start worrying right now, if I were you."

*****

Sam was tempted to ask about the hair; no way was that much hair practical in a combat situation.

But as she approached her lab --Carter's lab, she corrected herself-- she realized she had no idea what this universe's Sam Carter even did for a living. The French braid was still regulation, as long as she wasn't front line, but was she still even Air Force?

Sam knocked on the open door. "You ready for me?"

Carter smiled widely, as though she was really happy to be doing this, and patted the chair next to her. "Sure, come on in! You got any idea where you want to start, or should I just pull out the standard presentation?"

More nervous than she'd expected to be, Sam sat in the offered chair, tucking one leg underneath her. "I've got so many questions, I hardly know where to start."

"Let me see if I can guess at a few, see how close we are. I entered the Academy at seventeen, and flew my first combat mission over Al Amarah when I was twenty-two. I joined Stargate Command for their second trip to Abydos, holding the rank of Captain, and was promoted to Major three years later. I hit O-5 in '02, and earned my birds in 2005."

Sam was speechless. From Lt Colonel to full bird in three years? Some of the milestones were absolutely spot on, and yet others... "You're a full Colonel?" That answered the Air Force question, then.

"Last year."

"That's four years from now," she mused, frowning. She snapped out of it, realizing how that must have sounded. "For me, I mean. I've got some theories about why your reality is nearly five years ahead of ours; lemme run them by you, and you can tell me how far off I am."

Her double pushed away from the desk, covered to overflowing with colorful diagrams and printouts, so their chairs were facing each other. "Oh my god, we are the same person," she grinned. "Shoot."

*****

He'd once said that theirs was the only reality that mattered, and yet, faced with an alternate that had made the same choice he had so many years ago, Teal'c was having difficulty disregarding his doppelganger so easily.

He wanted to ask about the hair, about what had caused this version of himself to forgo the ritual hair removal that Apophis had demanded, and that Teal'c had sworn he would maintain until such time as every Goa'uld was dead. But Mirror-Teal'c lost no time getting right to the heart of what he felt was important.

"Several years ago, SG-1 discovered a weapon of immense power on Dakara."

Teal'c barely spared him an eyebrow. "There are stories amongst the Jaffa of a planet deep within Ba'al's territory fitting this description. But it is far more likely to be nothing more than a myth."

His double smiled. "You are wrong, Brother. I have seen it. Dakara has become the key to freedom for our people in this galaxy."

Against his better judgment, he was intrigued. "Really. What is the nature of this weapon?"

"It is one of such great power that it is, in fact, too dangerous to use. It is believed, by those who have read the writings concerning it, to have actually seeded all life in this galaxy. After Colonel Carter and Selmak were able to use it --with the Goa'uld Nerus' help-- to destroy the human-form Replicators, it was determined to be far too perilous to exist. The initial Jaffa Council ordered its dismantlement. A temple was subsequently erected in honor of the millions of Jaffa who perished in pursuit of the freedom we have finally won."

"You employed the help of Nerus to accomplish this?" Teal'c scoffed in disbelief.

The other Teal'c bowed his head incrementally. "I believe the Taur'i expression is, 'the lesser of two evils', and it describes the situation most accurately. Nerus wanted the Replicators stopped as badly as we. It was a temporary truce, in the face of a common and irrepressible enemy."

Teal'c found the other's easy use of Taur'i idioms to be most disconcerting. "Indeed," he murmured. This Jaffa was a talkative fellow, and Teal'c found that his manner disturbed him even more than the unnatural-looking ringlets of hair that crowned his head. "Have you any reports I could read for the full details of this battle?"

Mirror-Teal'c smiled enigmatically. "I can do better than that, Brother. I will take you there to see it for yourself."

*****

Sam and Colonel Carter had talked about the metallic structure that housed the mirror on 342, and Sam was fascinated to learn how physicists in China had solved the cracking problem in the BMG by changing the basic recipe of the mix and nearly doubling the ratio of aluminum to copper. She was looking forward to her host's offer to take her to Area51 for a demonstration of the alloy's energy-absorbing properties.

It'd apparently taken nearly a year for Sam and Felger to figure out how to 'lock' the mirror while a visiting team was there, giving off a busy signal of sorts to other realities that might dial into the Nexus. Sadly, the original mirror that Daniel had found on Mirror-233 had been destroyed in a lab accident that had claimed the lives of Doctors Lee and Felger. As a result, they'd gained painful insight into the inner workings of the device, out of which came the ability to force the dedicated line function that kept the mirror tuned to a single reality, thereby making the inter-reality briefings possible.

Sam made a mental note to check out the dedication plaque honoring their sacrifice; she'd missed seeing it when she stepped through.

In an attempt to bring the discussion around to something potentially less sad, Sam said, "I feel like I'm sitting next to a human crystal ball, since you're five years ahead of us. I'm dying to ask you questions, but I'm also kinda afraid of the answers."

Carter smiled. "No reason not to ask, since this isn't your timeline."

Sam smiled nervously, her eyes flitting to the other's left hand. "I-um, noticed your ring..."

Sam moved her fingers, causing the diamond to sparkle. "Married for almost two years now," she grinned.

Sam struggled to think how to word the next question. How did one ask about a love that invited court martial, just in the discussing of it? What's Jack like without the uniform, or did you settle for Pete? She decided on, "How did he ask you?" and hoped the 'who' would become clear on its own.

"He?"

Trapped now, she took the safe path. "Um, Pete." She blinked at the other woman's blank expression. "Shanahan? Isn't he--"

"Oh! I know him," Sam said, as if suddenly remembering something forgotten long ago. "Kinda goofy, big teeth, really square jaw?"

"Um, yeah..."

"He's a friend of Mark's, right?"

Oh, god. "Yes, he is," Sam said uneasily. "But I take it that's not who--"

"God, no," Carter said firmly. "He seems nice enough, but I can't imagine being married to him. No, Janet and I have been together since right after the Nirrti thing. 1999. We've been married since 2004"

Sam couldn't hide her shock. "Janet? Frasier? M-married?" There were so many thoughts running through her head, she didn't know which to think first. "But... we were friends. Good friends, but that's all. I... don't --didn't-- have those kinds of feelings for her."

The other Sam was nodding. "I know, but she did for us. I mean, me. A few days after we were sure the retrovirus was gone, and Cassie was going to be all right, she broke down and told me. I was a little shocked at first, kinda like you look right now, but once I got over that and listened to my heart, it wasn't a difficult decision. We're very happy," the other woman assured her with all sincerity. "I wouldn't change a thing."

Sam felt the sting of tears, but she fought them back. This woman was with Janet, not the Colonel, like all the other realities. And not even Pete, who treated her like a queen and made her laugh. Her friend. Her best friend. A woman. Her mind swirled with memories, trying to suss out if it had been that way for her Janet, and she'd just never noticed.

Her Janet. Oh my god...

She choked back a sob, thinking maybe she'd just never been open to the possibility because she'd been so fucking preoccupied with her infatuation over her CO. If Janet had been her destiny, her chance for love in her own reality was already lost to her; they'd buried Janet nearly two months ago. "She's dead in my reality," she said softly. "I never knew how she felt..."

"I know. I'm so very sorry for your loss," Carter said gently, as she reached for Sam's hand, holding it between her own. "I wanted to die when she was killed. We almost didn't get her back here in time for the sarcophagus to do her any good. Cassie was incredibly strong; I don't know what I'd have done without her. We kinda leaned on each other. It was a rough time."

Sam just looked at her with tears in her eyes, unable to move away from the pain, recent enough in her own life, the agony of Janet's loss so rudely refreshed and compounded by the knowledge that her Janet had probably had the same feelings for her and never trusted her enough to express them.

And what would Sam have done if she had?

Carter leaned over and put her arms around Sam, holding her tight. "I can tell you where to find the sarcophagus," she whispered. "So you don't have to lose any more good people."

Sam held her double, accepting the comfort, and the pair sat together quietly for several long moments, until Carter's stomach growled. "Sorry," she said sheepishly, pulling away. "Guess that Jell-O was a long time ago."

That's okay." Sam sniffed and helped herself to a tissue from the box on the desk, wiping away the tears that had gotten away. "I need to meet the Colonel and the others in the mess for debriefing."

"Can I walk with you part way? I'm just gonna drop by the infirmary to check on Jan, see if she has time to join us."

It hurt, the ease with which this woman could express her relationship with her... wife? "Sure," she said as they headed down the corridor. "How long did you say you've been together?" If she could pin it all down, catalog it, try to figure out if she'd missed any clues, she hoped it might hurt less.

"Together seven years, married for two. We were actually the first couple in the SGC to take advantage of DA/DT's repeal two years ago. We went to San Diego for the ceremony and flew to Cancun for our honeymoon."

Sam swallowed hard. Seven years. "That's... wow." Carter signaled for the elevator and stepped in when it arrived. "Daniel and the Colonel stood up for us. It was really very sweet," she continued. "In fact, that was probably what pushed them over."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked just as the elevator opened two floors afterward for the mess.

"Well, they got married less than six months later," Carter grinned, punching the button to go back up to the infirmary. "Doesn't seem like a coincidence to me. See ya in a few."

Sam stood stunned while the elevator doors closed in front of her, people skirting around her stalled form, oblivious to her dismay. Eventually, the sounds around her, of perfectly normal activity, indicating that the world had not stopped spinning, caused her to snap out of it. She turned to make her way to the mess, burdened now with information she wished she'd never asked for.

The rest of her team was already seated at the table in the back, deep in discussion, looking perfectly normal, as if nothing at all in the world of their understanding had changed. She grabbed a tray and placed a few items on it that she didn't really want and checked out --their tabs courtesy of the host team-- and joined the others, while the revelations Colonel Carter had thrown at her were still rolling around uncomfortably in her brain.

She sat next to Daniel and across from the Colonel, who were both listening intently as Teal'c related information about some place called Dakara. She made a great show of eating, hoping no one would notice that she wasn't participating in the discussion she couldn't have tracked if her life had depended on it.

"Carter, you okay?" the Colonel asked gently during a lull in the conversation. "Everything go all right with your twin?"

She swallowed a bite of sandwich with some difficulty, then bought some extra time sipping her soda to help wash it down. "For the most part, yes, sir. I'd like to speak with you in private, though, if I could."

Figured she'd be first, Jack thought dryly. Might as well get it all out in the open now, so he could start working on damage control while they were still on this side of the mirror. He didn't even try to hold back the sigh of resignation. "Just spit it out, Carter."

"Sir, I really think--"

"Okay, I'll help you out," he said, settling his elbows on the table. "This reality repealed DA/DT, and O'Neill and Jackson are married to each other. Likewise their Carter and Fraiser. That about cover it?"

She blinked, her jaw dropping open. "You don't seem surprised by any of it," she accused softly.

He saw the hope in her eyes die, and it filled him with shame that he hadn't been man enough to let her down easy years ago. "Well, the Fraiser thing was a little off the wall, didn't see that comin'..." he said sadly.

Sam just stared at him, while the sounds of conversation and clinking silverware faded into nothing around them. Her gut twisted with forbidden information she hadn't had time to process, as years of assumptions were doused with cold water, right before her eyes.

"Sir, I don't--" understand-- believe you-- care-- She shook that from her head and tried again. "It doesn't--" matter-- make sense-- mean you can't love me-- She gritted her teeth, gooseflesh rippling across her scalp as her mouth turned dry, and she tried one last time. "I mean, are you--" sure?-- gay?-- lying?

She had so many questions, as he'd known she would, which must have been why he wouldn't agree to meet with her privately. For the first time in the nearly eight years since she'd met him, she looked at him and labeled him coward.

Jack knew there wasn't any way past the immolation of his carefully constructed image, except through it. From her anguished expression, he was pretty sure she'd ultimately be the one to decide his fate. Or perhaps she and Daniel together, if he'd been wrong about Daniel's feelings all this time.

"Something you feel you need to ask, Major?" Jack interrupted sharply. It was an admission, he knew that, just as he knew that the guilt from the accusation of betrayal that now stained her face, would haunt him to his dying day. But he'd already decided he wouldn't try to bluff his way through this.

Suddenly, Sam was very conscious of Daniel beside her, and Teal'c watching quietly across from him, as the host SG-1 plus Janet all filed noisily into the mess, oblivious to the fact that her world had just been turned upside down. What had all that crap been about, after the Zatarc fiasco, if Jack wasn't interested? She'd always assumed that eventually he'd retire, and she'd give him another chance at fatherhood. It had honestly never occurred to her he might not want that.

How stupid did she feel?

She glanced at Daniel. His jaw was rigid, but he had eyes only for the Colonel, which she couldn't read as either confirmation or condemnation. "No, sir," she finally answered. She lowered her gaze to her plate, to the sandwich she no longer had the stomach for, and folded her hands in her lap. "Nothing I need to ask."

"Good," Jack said lightly, as he resolutely avoided looking directly at anyone. "That's settled, then. You're on your own tonight, kids. Reconvene here for Froot Loops at 0700." He stood and walked away, without a backward glance.

Swallowing hard, Sam forced herself to look at Daniel. His expression was hard and unreadable as he stared at his own tray. It was a train wreck, all of it, but she hadn't created it, any more than she could let it go now that she was in the middle of it. He was a civilian, so she could ask him. "Are you...?"

He wiped his mouth, wadding up and tossing the napkin on top of his unfinished meal with no small about of disgust, resolutely keeping his eyes down. "Am I what? Surprised? In love with him? Sorry as hell I insisted on coming here? Yes," he snapped, shoving his chair back roughly. "Yes, on all counts. Across the board."

He left by the same door Jack had, just as the host team swarmed into the open chairs around her, sweeping her genially into their conversation, as if nothing at all were wrong. As she watched Daniel leave the mess, with his rigidly straight back and angry, purposeful gait, she couldn't decide if he was more likely to punch the Colonel out or hug him.

As Daniel strode from the crowded mess hall, he wondered at the irony of having to cross into an alternate reality in order to find out if he'd been just been imagining things all these years. This reality's Jack and Daniel were married, but then Jack had been either married or engaged to Sam in at least two others. The jury was still out as to which side of the Kinsey scale his Jack got into bed on. And at this point, it was impossible to tell if Jack were disgusted by their doubles' intimacy, or envious of it.

He tried the men's room around the corner first, boldly pushing the door open. He'd waited for this day for most of the last seven years; dread and anticipation warred for supremacy in the pit of his stomach. Only one of the three stalls was occupied. "Jack?"

The sound of flushing, accompanied by a tired-sounding, "Yeah," and then the stall door opened.

Daniel closed the door to the corridor and locked it. "Hey," he said gently. He stayed where he was, still as a statue, as though making first contact with a frightened alien. We come in peace.

Jack hated that Daniel felt he had to do that.

Jack washed and dried his hands, not even bothering to try for the slam-dunk with the used paper towel. He crossed to the far wall to lean, arms folded across his chest, in an attempt to still the pounding of his heart.

This is where his future would be decided, in a men's room deep in Cheyenne mountain, in some other reality than his own. How fucking tragic.

Daniel's knees seemed like a safe place to rest his gaze. "They've been together for six years," he announced.

With a shrug, Daniel started slowly toward him. "Apparently, they're allowed to be."

Jack nodded at the anthropologically tolerant answer, which gave him absolutely nothing to go on as to how Daniel might feel about the whole thing personally, as in the two of them, live and in person. God! If he was wrong, this would be awkward for the rest of forever...

"Only allowed since last year. When they started, it was just the same as--" As what? You and I? How presumptuous was that? Too late, his lips clamped shut, and he looked away, down toward his feet, in lieu of finishing the thought out loud.

Daniel stopped his forward progression at the halfway point, leaning a hip on the edge of the counter near the center basin, hands folded casually in front of himself. "The same as... you and I?" he asked with enviable calm.

His mouth as dry as the desert, Jack's eyes darted over to briefly meet Daniel's. When had Daniel gotten so good at masking his emotions? Maybe after all the years you used them to beat him with, his conscience supplied. Jack couldn't see a way out of this, not with his dignity in tact. He had to give Daniel something to go on; it wasn't fair to expect him to cross the distance Jack had created between them, all by himself.

"I was never sure if it was really there, or if it was all in my own head," he admitted softly, the acoustics of the bathroom working together with his nervousness to make it sound as though he'd made the proclamation through a megaphone.

He managed to maintain eye contact, even though Daniel was giving him no visible encouragement. He tried to swallow his apprehension, but the lack of saliva aborted the attempt with a painful spasm. "I wanted to believe that someday, we might find a... common ground." He winced at the corniness of it, and added, "But I'd spent so many years not really even being very nice to you... and then you were... gone."

Tiny crinkles appeared at the corners of Daniel's eyes as he replied knowingly, "When I came back and started remembering stuff, I wondered if I was imagining the angry vibe from before. Couldn't figure out what I could've done to justify what I was recalling. But the more I thought about it, I realized that it made perfect sense, all the months of sharp words, the gradual shutting down of the friendship. It's a completely reasonable fear response... when an historically straight male realizes he's started to think sexually about another man."

Jack grimaced and glanced away. "Busted."

The crinkles bloomed into a coy smile, and Daniel sighed audibly. "It's about damned time."

Jack's gaze snapped up to join to Daniel's, and upon finding the welcoming warmth, his heart filled with relief, the corner of his mouth turning up with a nervous twitch that wanted to be a smile, but didn't have the legs. So many years he'd waited, watching Daniel search for his wife and then mourn her, all the while wanting, yearning, desperately afraid of being found out for being the cad he was. Angry at being continually faced with what he couldn't have, because doing his duty for Uncle Sam always seemed more important. Pushing Daniel away in self defense, because he couldn't take it another minute, until finally they weren't even friends anymore, and somehow that hurt less. He'd been a real bastard.

"Daniel, I--"

"I don't expect anything," he said softly.

Heart still pounding painfully, Jack's eyes met Daniel's across the small space that still separated them. He willed his voice to be steady. "You should. You deserve to." He deserved to have someone who could love him openly.

Daniel shook his head. "Don't do this, Jack. Don't measure us by them."

Us. God, how many years he'd wanted there to be an 'us'? "How can I NOT?" Jack snapped. "He took a chance." Suddenly irrationally angry at himself and the world, he gestured toward the door, and to the greater SGC beyond. "He didn't make his Daniel wait."

"You never asked me to wait."

"Only because I was too much of a fucking coward to even talk to you about it!"

"You didn't need to," Daniel argued reasonably, straightening his posture a bit and leaning back on his arms. "We've just been having an extremely long, chaste courtship, that's all."

Rolling his eyes, Jack snorted. "Is that what they're calling it these days?"

Daniel smiled again and held up his hand, counting off the fingers. "Hockey. Chess. The occasional Jell-O wrestling match. Breakfast at the base. Charred steak off your grill. It all felt like dates to me."

"Aw, Danny..." Jack looked away, trying to gather up his anguish about so many wasted years, before it swamped both of them. He couldn't understand why Daniel was being so unreasonably reasonable, so patient. He didn't deserve it; he was no prize, and he knew it.

"I think you're worth it," Daniel said quietly, as if reading his mind. "Let it go."

"You deserve better," Jack muttered to his shoes.

"Maybe." Daniel came up off the counter and closed the distance between them, stopping just inside the edge of Jack's personal space, forcing him to look up, capturing his gaze when he finally did.

For a moment, Jack thought Daniel would bring his arms up to hug him, to pull him close, until there was no more distance between them and the awful ache inside of him would finally ease. He felt his heart stop, poised between one beat and the next, waiting for it, both terrified and desperate, but Daniel just slipped his hands into his pockets and continued to appraise him earnestly.

"And maybe, after everything we've done for the planet, we deserve to have each other."

Daniel's voice was low and husky with what could've been arousal. Jack thought the unusually rough sound of it might just push him over the edge. As it was, there seemed to be electricity pinging between them, threatening to singe the hair from Jack's arms, while the lust he saw in Daniel's eyes stripped him bare.

Dear god, turn it off! You should come with some kind of warning...

"Do I wish things could be different?" Daniel asked rhetorically in a voice just above a whisper. "Hell, yes. Do I think about what it'll be like someday, when I can finally get you alone, put my hands and my mouth all over you? Sure I do. Why do you think I take so many cold showers?

"But coming here, learning what they've done differently, finding the big, honkin' space gun you've always wanted... this could make the difference for our reality, Jack. For us. Because if what we learn here gives us a head start on neutralizing the Goa'uld, then we can both quit the SGC and start fucking our brains out."

Jack just looked at him, trying to follow the quietly impassioned plea, understanding, finally, that Daniel was okay with it, that he wanted it too, even though they'd never been able to discuss it. Apparently, Daniel had been thinking about it --about them-- for a long time.

"Well," Jack cleared his throat and tried for arch flippancy, "that's quite the mental image, there, Doctor Jackson."

Daniel's eyes twinkled. "If you think I have a way with words," he smirked with a waggle of his eyebrows, "wait till you see what I can do with my tongue."

The sudden zing in between Jack's balls, just at the thought of Daniel's tongue anywhere in his vicinity, caused an unfortunately sharp intake of breath, which he attempted to cover. "That's just the point, Daniel, you shouldn't have to wait--"

"But I understand why you do," he said firmly. "I'm not looking for just sex; I can get that anywhere. If we do this, I'm gonna want it all. You, all of you, all to myself, every day. If you think you might want that, too, then say the word. I've got no problem waiting for you."

Jack's face was heating up, blushing as he considered what Daniel was offering: everything Jack had ever fantasized about and --from the look of it-- delights beyond imagining. The scrutiny and promise coming from those intense blue eyes... he could almost feel the caress of those scorching looks, as they skittered across Daniel's features. "Consider the word given," he managed to whisper, his throat dry beyond all reason.

Daniel smiled, as predatory a look as Jack had ever seen, leaving him instantly hard. "I've waited this long, not even knowing for sure you wanted me. I don't intend to let you slip through my fingers at this point, not now that I know I can have you. I'm not going anywhere," Daniel assured him.

"Now. Stop beating yourself up about what they have that we don't, and let's get to work."

*****

"Yeah, we put some of Daniel's old stuff out there in the shiny building, just to keep visitors interested during the times the mirror's giving off a busy signal." The sounds of the mess hall seemed to die down to nothing, almost as though in anticipation of the impending storm from O'Neill's throwaway line.

From the other side of the table, his husband dropped his fork. "Wait. My stuff? You put my stuff out there where anybody could take it?" Jackson sputtered. "Which stuff? Who said you could take my stuff?"

"Not any of the important stuff," O'Neill assured his mate, "just some leftover, y'know, Capodimonte and broken bits of--"

"Leftover? Leftover?" Jackson squawked, pushing his plate away in disgust. "Do you even know what Capodimonte is? And how dare you call the relics of ancient civilizations, which I've spent my life studying and collecting, mere Capodimonte! Who said you had the right--"

"We needed something to catch people's eye," O'Neill explained reasonably as he gathered his tray and stood. "Only another you would even know what half that cr-- stuff is. Besides, wasn't that covered in the 'for richer or poorer' clause?" He frowned, deep in thought as he strode across the room and shoved his tray down the clearing line. He turned and regarded the man coming up behind him. "Or was it the part about 'all my other-worldly goods'...?"

Jackson's eyes narrowed as he plunked down his own dirty tray. "How 'bout we put your autographed Wayne Gretzky hockey stick out there as bait, huh? Or maybe your Verdi collection? You won't miss Aida, I'm sure. I know I sure as hell won't--"

O'Neill had the grace to at least look concerned. "Hey, now, no need to get all petty and spiteful--"

"Oh, you wanna see petty and spiteful?" Jackson asked, hands planted firmly on his hips.

"Boys!" Janet said, insinuating herself in between them. "Settle this at home, huh?" She looked so petite, sandwiched in between the two tall, seething men, it would've seemed ludicrous, except for the fact that at her words, both of them backed down and stepped away. "Thank you," she said a tad smugly.

She flashed her wife a winning smile. "Coming, Sam?"

The mirror team filed out of the mess, leaving Sam and Teal'c alone at the table.

"It distresses you to see them behaving as a couple," Teal'c surmised.

Sam sucked the rest of her soda dry, wishing for something stronger. She wasn't sure which couple he was referring to, and she realized sadly that it didn't really matter; both revelations had hit her hard. She sighed heavily. "Yeah, Teal'c, I guess it does."

"I, too, miss Doctor Fraiser in our reality. It is gratifying to know that she leads a full and happy life here in this one. Particularly since it means Cassandra has two parents who love her."

Sam nodded. "I know, and I agree with you. It's just... this reality is so different from the others. It honestly never occurred to me to think of Janet as anything other than a friend. Maybe that's because I was so focused--" She bit her lip and looked away, letting the unvoiced thought die. She hoped Teal'c would allow it to drop.

"You expected that your counterpart would be linked romantically with O'Neill's in this reality, as she has been in both of the others we have experienced."

Sam winced. "Pretty dumb, huh?" She rested her cheek on her palm, pushing her uneaten potato chips into the puddle of dill pickle juice on her plate.

"It was not an unreasonable assumption, given the previous occurrences. But what of Pete Shanahan?"

Embarrassed, Sam buried her face in her hands. "Oh, god, I know, Teal'c. I know. I'm not real proud of myself right now, okay? And yeah, watching this version of Daniel and the Colonel verbally sparring the way ours do, but knowing these guys are together together… I can't help but notice the similarities, and frankly, I really don't want to know that they--" The images came unbidden, as graphic as any porn flick, leaving her feeling rather queasy. "Arrgh! I just need to get a grip, that's all."

Teal'c nodded, satisfied that she had started to find her footing. "It would be well to remember that for all we may ultimately derive from this place, ours is truly the only reality of consequence."

*****

Daniel closed the door to the quarters he'd been assigned, grateful to finally be alone. He'd spent the last twenty minutes hard and leaking, trying to project an air of calm and in control, hoping Jack wouldn't notice, wouldn't smell him, and he'd barely gotten away before he'd blown it. In more ways than one.

He'd pushed the limits of Jack's personal space and managed not to grab hold of him, only by sliding his hands into his pockets at the last minute, to quell the temptation to take the other man into his arms. Even now, he ached to hold him close, to breathe him in, to feel the heat of his body all along his own, but he knew if he did it once, if his control slipped, he'd never be able to let go.

He stripped down and climbed into the shower, not waiting for the water to warm up, grinding his teeth at the icy blast and letting it sluice the length of his overheated body, once again draining away the need and desire. He knew it'd be difficult, now that they'd talked and confessed their mutual feelings, to go back to being only friends, but he was determined not to make Jack feel pressured by his own salacious needs.

And god, he did need him. Seeing the other pair together, not hesitant to touch, even the mundane, casual contact, because here, it was allowed, accepted, and not considered a condemnable activity. It would never be that easy in their reality, even once Jack was free of the military, not unless they moved to Canada or Europe. As he washed the rest of his body, he briefly considered the possibility of moving offworld...

He heard it as soon as he turned off the shower. Moaning. Not loud, but the timbre of the voice was unmistakable. Toweling his hair, he stepped out of the bathroom and glanced around the VIP room, confirming he was alone. That could only mean that his room was adjacent to the one shared by his counterpart and his... husband. And the moaning was undoubtedly--

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block it out, but it happened again, a deeply felt, needy groan that caused the hair on his arms to tingle and his cock to lengthen. Again.

Listening was agony, knowing what they were doing, certain that the sounds he was hearing were coming from Jack-- not his Jack, true, but it scarcely made any difference, their vocal cords were probably shaped identically, and he was sure the two men would sound the same when someone applied just the right pressure with a tongue or a well-lubed finger...

For a moment, with his own heartbeat thundering in his ears, and his dick hard between his legs, he was tempted to listen and play along with the soundtrack of their love. They'd all been assured that their rooms were completely private and free of surveillance. Who would know if he closed his eyes and listened, and pretended it was his hand or tongue or cock that was eliciting the lustful sounds in the next room?

But it was that thought that stopped him cold. Not that it was dishonest, or that he was intruding on the other couple's privacy, or even that in some strange way, it was almost like he'd be cheating on Jack, but that the first time he made Jack come, he wanted it to be real and unspoiled by the sounds of a stand-in he could barely tear himself away from.

Daniel did an immediate one-eighty and got back into the shower.

*****

"I love it when the others visit," Daniel said, snuffling his face into his husband's exposed crotch.

"Who are you kidding? You love the nanites."

That was true, too. The nanites seemed to heighten the sexual experience, making each touch, each lick, just that much more titillating, pushing the sensation higher, and a little bit further away at the same time. But it was more than that; Daniel loved knowing the other set was able to hear them making love.

"That, too," Daniel said, shoving his nose up under Jack's balls to take a deep breath of his scent. His voice was muffled by the heavy sac across his face, but it was too warm and musky in there for him to really care, so he filled his lungs with it, rubbed his face with it, filled his mouth with the intimate flavor of Jack's skin.

He slurped one of Jack's balls into his mouth, rolling it around with his tongue, spurred on by the needy groans he was making. He pulled away, stretching, stretching, listening for the gasp that told him far enough, let go then released it with a wet plop. "And I also love fucking you here on base, making you lose it where they can hear us."

Holding his legs up, Jack sighed as he felt Daniel's tongue moving away from his balls, now patiently bathing his perineum. "You're an exhibitionist, Danny, it's as simple as that," he groaned. He opened his legs wider, hoping Daniel's questing tongue would move even lower.

Daniel chuckled filthily as he settled in between Jack's legs, his scent all around him now, making him hard, making him want to do things, his mind filling with thoughts of three-ways, and sucking one Jack off as another fucked him so very deeply, the other Daniel only able to watch while he had his way with both of them... "Did you ask this one?"

Jack arched his back, following the disappearing sensation. "Huh? Oh. Sorta. No go."

Daniel stopped what he was doing long enough to surface from under the covers and frown. "Jack...?"

"No, really," Jack growled, rolling his eyes. It was clear this evening's entertainment wasn't going to proceed until Daniel got his answers. "They're not together. I don't think this Jack's even talked to his Daniel about what he feels or what he wants. So your lurid little fantasy is gonna hafta wait." Truth was, he'd thought it was going to be kind of hot the one chance they'd had to try it, watching some other version of himself fuck his husband's mouth while he'd drilled into him from behind. He'd gotten off, but afterward... it hadn't been a good time.

Jack waved his hand in the general vicinity of his groin and addressed the man with the bed hair currently between his lifted legs. "Weren't you doing something important just now?"

Daniel frowned in mock confusion. "I forget. Must've lost my place."

Humming, Jack gently shoved Daniel's head back toward his dick and rocked his hips forward. "Right around in there somewhere..."

"Here?" Daniel asked, cupping Jack's balls, pulling them down and away from his body. He watched Jack arch his back as he started rubbing the thumb of his other hand across Jack's hole. "Or in here...?" Daniel watched Jack writhe on the bed, groaning pathetically, and smiled. "I wanna lick you here..." he whispered.

"God, yeah, do it, push it in..."

*****

The next morning, Jack was the first of his team in the mess, probably because he'd slept in the bunk room which was just around the corner. He slid a tray onto the rail and loaded up with two single-serving boxes of Froot Loops, a carton of milk, a bowl and a spoon, then fixed himself a cup of coffee. He took a swig, so he'd know how many shovelfuls of sugar to put in, and was surprised to find really decent brew. He grabbed a single packet of sugar and two creams, and paused long enough to let the cashier tally his order for O'Neill's tab.

In the back, he took a seat at the same table they'd used the night before and waited for his team. Carter was first, selecting two cartons of orange juice and playing out a nearly identical coffee scenario to Jack's own before she headed for the table.

"Goin' for that all-liquid diet Daniel's so fond of, I see," Jack mused as he watched both Daniel and Teal'c enter the mess at the same time from different doors.

"Yes, sir." She took the seat beside him.

Bending her head down a little, she said softly, "I'd like to apologize for last night, if I may--"

"Aht! Hold that thought," he replied, nodding toward the rest of their team, still in line. "And besides, if anybody should apologize, Major, it's me," he added. "I've been... out of line and in denial for a lot of years, and I know I've--" he winced, looking down into his coffee, struggling to get the words out "--probably hurt you, something I deeply regret. It's to your credit that throughout all my idiocy, you kept your head. I appreciate your grace more than you know, and... I owe you." He found the courage to lift his eyes, meeting her gaze. "Big time."

Her features softened, if not into a smile, then something just as gentle. "I contributed to the idiocy, sir. Let's call it a lesson learned. On both sides."

The evening before hadn't been stellar in any respect. After dinner, Janet and Colonel Carter had come to her room to tell her about her dad. Colonel Carter's dad. Seems that Selmak had fallen into a coma during the Dakara mission with SG-1, and Jacob had died with her a short time later. The Colonel hoped that with enough notice, Sam's own father could be saved from the same fate.

Sam was finding that this mission definitely had a higher than usual emotional quotient than most.

When Daniel and Teal'c had filled their trays --Daniel's with three mugs of coffee, and Teal'c's with two of everything but coffee-- they checked out and headed for the table, where they settled in across from Jack and Sam. They had the place nearly to themselves for the moment.

"Good morning, campers! Everybody sleep well?"

"Indeed I did, O'Neill," Teal'c replied as he began to peel one of the pair of grapefruits on his tray, the pink citrus dwarfed by his meaty brown hands. Across from Sam, Daniel merely grunted into his cup.

Jack smiled. "Okay, listen up. You too, coffee boy. We're going to dispense with the usual command structure --such as it is-- for the next few minutes. Things are pretty different here, and that's throwing us all for a loop. I'm instituting a temporary state of democracy for the duration of breakfast every morning we're here, for the purpose of figuring out how to assimilate all the information and what the changes might mean."

Daniel looked up and frowned. "What're you getting at?" His voice sounded rough, even to his own ears. Lack of sleep would do that to you.

"I think we have to distance ourselves a little bit, so we don't take things personally while we're learning what the mirror-team has to offer. We have to be thinking about which parts not to pass on to General Hammond.''

"You have my word, sir, I won't--"

"Don't want it," Jack said, shaking his head firmly. "I'm looking for honest appraisals of the situation at hand, to see if any of the tangential elements are even relevant. Maybe the fact that O'Neill and Jackson are married here is the reason something else changed, and ultimately put them in a position to off the Goa'uld. If so, then it's pertinent."

"You're suggesting we find out where our paths diverged from our mirror selves?" Sam asked. "That somehow, that might tell us what we've done wrong?"

"No. I'm explaining this badly," Jack said, frustrated. It was pretty clear in his head, but it wasn't coming out right. "Let me give you an example. Hammond's dead in this reality, and Major Davis is --god help me-- the General in command of this facility."

"You're kidding," Sam frowned.

"Nope. Hammond passed away from a massive heart attack last year. Now, is that fact relevant to what has to change in our reality, in order for us to destroy the Goa'uld? Or is it just a burst of static that's really neither here nor there?"

Suddenly awake, Daniel said, "We're not qualified --certainly I'm not-- to make that kind of judgment. That's a matter for someone else to decide."

"Who?" Jack asked. "The NID?"

"What? No!"

"The Pentagon, then?"

"Damn it, Jack--"

"Daniel, we're a front line team. We make choices like this all the time-- life and death on the battlefield. I think we're capable of deciding how to selectively edit our reports, leaving out the parts that might cause more harm than good. We tell the Pentagon that Davis is in and Hammond is out, don't you think they're gonna use that to get rid of George, like they've been trying to do since forever?"

"Certainly, you and Daniel being a couple doesn't have to be reported," Sam said quietly.

Jack sighed. He was touched by her apparent defense of them, particularly in light of her initial reaction to the information, but he needed to set her straight. "Let me be clear, for the record; O'Neill and Jackson are a couple. Daniel and I aren't, and never have been."

Sam met his eyes, hearing what he didn't say, and just nodded, wisely deciding to keep her mouth shut this time. Her eyes darted to Daniel, who seemed to have gotten interested in his coffee once again.

"You're not just talking about reports, are you." Daniel didn't look up. "You're talking about manipulating events deliberately."

"Look what happened to you that first time," Jack replied easily. "You tried to convince Kinsey that the Goa'uld were coming, and he didn't believe you."

"None of you did."

"My point exactly."

"Are you suggesting that General Hammond must die, in order for our reality to be free of the Goa'uld?" Teal'c asked.

"Not at all." Jack shook his head. "We don't have anywhere near enough data to make a statement like that."

"You're referring to the Hitler paradox," Daniel muttered. He glanced up at Jack and added, "You do know that game never ends well, don't you?"

"Don't put words in my mouth. All I'm saying is that we need to keep our eyes and ears open. Stay alert, so we recognize the key element, if and when we run across it."

"What makes you think one of us is the key?" Daniel asked. "It could be something happening on the other side of the planet, for all we know."

"It could. And maybe we won't find one, single, defining factor. Maybe all we'll go home with is the location of a big, honkin' space gun, and that alone might do it. Just stay sharp; we'll talk about the differences as we run across them, and then we'll decide together what has to happen. That way, there's some built-in objectivity, and no single person has all the responsibility."

Sam cleared her throat. "I-uh, think I know where the point of divergence was for Colonel Carter and me."

"She's a Colonel already?"

"Well, they are five years ahead of us, sir." She'd thought about it long into the night, and she was sure she knew the night her double and Janet got together. Cassie had been so sick, and Janet had held the Goa'uld at gunpoint, surprising all of them. Three days later, Cassie was out on a date with Dominick, and Janet invited Sam over for dinner, to celebrate, she said.

Their conversation had started off centered around SG-1's latest mission, and then veered off wildly after that, touching on everything from movies to old beaus. Sam couldn't remember the conversation verbatim, from two and half years before, but she had a vague recollection of the wine flowing freely, and the two of them collapsing into giggles at one point, very close together on the couch. Now she'd never know if that hug had just been two friends who'd had a little too much to drink, or if it'd been a pass she'd been too blind to see.

She hurt inside, thinking about Janet perceiving it as rejection and soldiering on, resigned to being only friends, when inside she felt so much more. Sam couldn't help but wonder if they'd been romantically involved with each other, if things might've somehow gone differently on 666.

"They apparently got together right after the whole Nirrti experience," she said quietly, "and they've been married for two years."

Jack nodded and reached out for her hand, squeezing it, thinking that if the other Carter was tactile enough to go around kissing all of them on the mouth, maybe his Carter would appreciate a friendly touch. Strangely, now that he'd been outted with his team, it seemed easier to indulge his natural urge to touch them all. "O'Neill mentioned a grandchild soon?"

Surprised by the contact itself, Sam wasn't ready for this new revelation, and was too late to hide her surprised gasp. "I--I didn't know about that." She was only recently giving the idea of having kids herself occasional thought, and not really in a serious way; she couldn't even wrap her mind around potential grandchildren. She clasped his hand hard, hoping to forestall the threatened tears.

In the conversational lull that followed, she realized that the mess had begun to fill up with people wanting to grab a quick bite before their shift. She longed for the floor to open up and swallow her, anything to get out from under the curious stares of her team.

As if reading her mind, Teal'c began to gather the detritus of his meal. "I am, as yet, unaware of the divergence point between myself and Master Teal'c," he said with all due seriousness, giving the elder Jaffa the respect of the title, "as we have not divulged information of such a personal nature. If you think it relevant, however, I shall endeavor to broach the subject with him during our journey this day."

"Where you off to?" Sam asked, releasing Jack's hand with a final grateful squeeze.

"We depart for the temple at Dakara within the hour. I am told we shall return tomorrow in the late morning, due to planetary time differences."

"Have a blast, T," Jack said with a smile. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Teal'c paused, tray in hand, and opened his mouth to ask, but Daniel beat him to it. "At your own peril, Teal'c," he warned.

Teal'c paused for a moment, as if considering it, then grunted softly. "Hmmm... I concur." As he walked off, he passed three quarters of the SG-1 mirror team, inclining his head in acknowledgment, on his way to joining his double in the gateroom.

As O'Neill approached the table, tray laden with oatmeal so stiff, the spoon stood straight up in the bowl, Jack called out, "Hey, when do I get to see some of these fancy weapons you promised me?"

Grinning at the man across from him, O'Neill set his tray down next to Daniel and rubbed his hands together. "My favorite subject. The Chair."

Jack frowned. "The what? You mean to tell me the big, honkin' space gun... is a chair?"

"Not just any chair, pal, it's the recliner o' doom! Fires these little glowy things that devastate the hell outta whatever you're thinking about. It only works if you've got the Ancient gene, which you have, by the way. Blew Ba'al-baby's armada right outta the sky," he announced smugly.

"Gene? Ancient, ya say."

While Jack sipped his coffee, O'Neill described the air battle over the colonnade on P3X-439, being strafed by death gliders, and his decision to take the download once again, just so that Ba'al couldn't get his smarmy hands on it. He went on to describe SG-1's frantic flight in search of the power supply on a volcanically unstable planet, only to find that the place they were looking for was under the ice in Antarctica in the first place.

Jack frowned at the anti-climactic ending. "Been there. Done that. Don't remember seeing any fancy furniture. You, Carter?"

"No sir," she agreed with a smile. "A distinct lack of the amenities, as I recall."

"That's because the weapons platform is just down the street a bit from where you and Carter landed," O'Neill explained. "That, and a little more than a mile straight down, actually. Needed a set of rings to burn through the ice the first time, but we've fixed the place up since then, a few curtains, some throw rugs. A real elevator--"

"Be sure you tell him how you were nearly dead by the time the space battle was over," Jackson said tightly as he and Colonel Sam joined them.

"It worked out," O'Neill shrugged, pulling his tray out of the way to make room for Jackson to sit on the other side of him.

"You were in an Ancient stasis pod for fifty-six days, old man," Jackson snapped, "and if we hadn't finally been able to get in touch with the Asgard to suck the database back out, you'd be there still."

"Why do you always--"

"Maybe I don't appreciate almost becoming a widower again," he snapped. "Ever think of that?" Knife and fork in hand, he started cutting up his waffles a little more aggressively that was perhaps necessary.

O'Neill slipped his hand beneath the table and squeezed his spouse's thigh. "Hey."

"Don't try to suck up."

"Why? Is it working?"

Jack watched his counterpart interact with the man who looked so much like his own Daniel, and fought down the longing in his gut. Colonel Sam, to his right, paid them no mind and dug into her scrambled eggs like this kind of scene happened every day. But Jack was well aware of his Carter watching the display with interest. It was taking an extraordinary amount of effort not to check out how his own Daniel was taking his double's sudden change in mood.

He cleared his throat to facilitate a change in subject. "So, if you tell us where it is, I won't need to get my head sucked again?" He raised the 'Aht!' finger when it looked like his quantum counterpart was going to take the bait and make a tacky remark.

O'Neill simply sighed. "Should do."

Jack nodded, and then frowned. "But if I don't take the download, how am I gonna know how to work the chair?"

O'Neill waved away the concern. "It's easy, I'll show ya. We can go after breakfast if you want." He shoved a huge wad of oatmeal into his mouth and moved it around, washing it down with a slug of coffee.

"To Antarctica," Jack mused, deadpan. "After breakfast."

"Sure. The little gray guys outfitted the Prometheus with that spiffy beam-thingy they do so well. We'll be back here by lunch time, following which, my team has a meeting with the General." He leaned across the table to whisper conspiratorially. "Oh, and I hear tell, Martha's making peach pie today."

"Mmmm, peach..." Jack crooned in reply.

"How can you make a wholesome dessert sound so utterly filthy?" Daniel asked, barely suppressing a smile.

Jack put on an air of great aplomb and announced, "Talent." Neither of the Carters could completely suppress their giggles, allowing him to follow through with his patented, down-the-nose glare.

"So," O'Neill started. He'd finally finished with his breakfast and was starting to commune with his coffee, his left hand still planted firmly on his husband's right thigh. "What are you Sams up to today?"

Colonel Carter looked at Jack and then past him, gathering her double into the conversation with her eyes. "If it's all right with you, I'd like to take Sam to Area 51."

"What do you have there that we don't?" he replied.

"Well, we have the original prototype of the Colonel's Replicator-buster," she offered brightly.

Jack raised an eyebrow at his double, mouthing the words.

"Hey, you don't like it, you can name yours whatever you want." O'Neill shrugged. "Still takes out those Kieron thingies--"

"Pathways," both Sams said in unison.

"--pathways that hold the bugs together, and that's pretty nifty, if I do say so myself." He didn't quite stick his tongue out, but there was definitely defensive pique in the air.

"We also have a couple of virtual reality chairs from the Gamekeeper's planet. We've run across a couple of bugs in the program, but once we get those straightened out, we plan to use them for training simulations. I wanted to pick Sam's brain, see if she had any ideas we hadn't thought of."

"And you were going to show me how you grow the bulk metal glass that houses the mirror," Sam reminded her. "The energy-disbursing properties alone--"

"Right!"

Jack looked from one woman to the other on either side of him, taking in their beaming, happy faces and deadpanned, "Oooohh. Sounds thrilling."

"It does to me, sir," Sam said eagerly. "They constructed it specifically to withstand anything. So it couldn't be lost, like Heliopolis."

"Good thinking. Off with you, then." He made shooing motions at them. "Have fun. Don't--"

She put a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. "I won't, sir."

Pouty, Jack looked back at the three who remained. "No respect, I tell ya."

"Or maybe you need some new material," Daniel offered.

"I don't get out much," he admitted with a shrug.

"Well, then you're definitely due for a field trip," O'Neill announced, getting up from the table to follow his silent and sullen mate to the tray return.

Jack finished the last of his coffee and gathered up his own stuff. "You got your own field trip?" he asked Daniel as the other couple walked away. "Or you wanna tag along to see this 'recliner of doom'?" He rolled his eyes along with the air quotes, which about covered his commentary about the whole idea.

Daniel glanced toward their doubles, where O'Neill was running his hand up and down Jackson's arm as they waited by the door. The touch spoke of the intimacy he'd heard played out in the room next door several times the night before. He turned away when it looked like they might be leaning in for a kiss; after everything he'd inadvertently heard the night before, he had no desire to watch them in action.

"Um, looks like we aren't going with you guys," Daniel postulated from witnessing their goodbye scene. He stood and pushed in his chair, watching Jack looking over his shoulder at them with undisguised want in his eyes, and it was all he could do not to take Jack into his arms. "Jack," he whispered.

Jack tore his eyes away, trying to tamp down on the sense of desperation roiling around in his gut. He recovered quickly, milliseconds, but not before Daniel saw it. "Yeah."

Daniel swallowed hard, pushing down the feelings that swelled up within him at seeing that look in Jack's eyes. When swallowing didn't work, he cleared his throat. "I'm-uh, gonna head on down to the locker room for a quick shower, and then I guess I'll pick Jackson's brain until you guys get back."

Jack nodded and headed for the door, but Daniel found he didn't want him to leave, not now, maybe not ever.

"Hey-" he gripped Jack's bicep, feeling it bunch and contract under his hand. He deliberately didn't release it when their eyes met, hoping he could make the other man see that he wanted this just as badly. Neither tried to deny the hunger they both felt. "Don't go getting yourself all stasis-ized, okay?" Daniel said softly. "I don't wanna lose you, not now that we're this close."

"You got that right," Jack growled in agreement.

*****

The ice cold shower had helped. Daniel dried off and wriggled into his briefs and BDUs, then sat on the bench to pull on his socks, thinking he should've showered in his quarters. He was still early for his meeting with his double, and with the other's husband on the way to Antarctica, he probably had time for a quick session with his right hand, without benefit of background effects from next door. If he didn't relieve some of this pressure soon--

Suddenly, there was a hand inside the back of his pants, a long, knowledgeable finger heading for his crease.

Without thinking, Daniel reached up with both hands, grabbed the owner of the finger by the back of the neck and yanked him over his shoulder, sending him crashing into the metal lockers to land with a startled grunt at his feet.

"What the FUCK?"

"What'd you think you were doing?" Daniel demanded, scowling as he stood over his assailant.

The man held his chin, working it carefully as he eased himself to a sitting position, leaning against the lockers. He did a long, slow pan up Daniel's body, not being shy about pausing with his hungry gaze leveled at his open fly. "Look, Sunshine, if you're feelin' a mite peckish, ya just need to let me know. Ya don't need to haul off 'n throw me around the room."

Daniel buttoned his fly and grabbed his shirt. "I'm not your 'Sunshine', Ace," he said, shrugging into it. He finished tucking and fastened his belt, without ever taking his eyes off the other man.

Ace peered up at him through squinty eyes while he continued to work his jaw. "Aw, crap. You'd be one of those Mirror Jackson's, wouldn't ya?"

Daniel reached into the locker for the rest of his uniform. "I would be, yes. And you are...?"

Sitting cross-legged now, he grinned and tossed off a sloppy salute. "Lt. Colonel Cameron Mitchell, at your service."

Daniel appraised him slowly as he slipped the over shirt on. "Hmmm... yes, well, I'm not in need of stud service today, Ace, so you can just run on along and... shoot something, all right?" He closed the locker and tossed his wet towel into the canvas bin near the door.

"Damned if you're not snootier than most, aren't ya." The guy gave him a knowing grin.

The tilt of Daniel's head was an automatic gesture. "Possibly." He headed for the door, anxious to be gone.

Smirking, Mitchell called after him, "Be sure and lemme know if ya change your mind."

Hand on the door lever, Daniel turned just a bit, so he could give Mitchell his full attention. "I won't," he said firmly. "You're not my type."

He headed directly for Jackson's office, mulling over what had happened and what it could mean. In the end, he decided to play it cool regarding Mitchell, despite his simmering anger.

More than an hour later, the two Daniels had finished comparing notes about their lives before the stargate program, and moved respectfully onto the issue of Sha're --her abduction, the birth of her child, and her eventual death, all sadly the same in both of their realities. So far, it seemed their experiences had been, as far as they could tell, mirrors of one another.

They took a break to stretch their legs and brew up a second pot of coffee.

"I thought you took your caffeine cold," Daniel asked with a tiny frown as he watched the other man dump some fragrant beans into a small grinder.

His double shrugged through the whirring of the motor, inhaling the aroma of the freshly ground beans, a delicate cloud of mocha and --coconut?-- blooming between them. "Jack calls it 'yuppie crack'. Figured I could indulge while he's demo-ing the chair. You gonna tell on me?"

"For sneaking coffee? Nah. Man's got a right to a harmless vice." He watched as the other Daniel, the older one, he reminded himself, dumped the grounds into a filter and poured a pot full of water in the top of the machine. He settled the empty pot to receive the brew and then leaned against the bookcase, deliberately mirroring Daniel's current arms-folded position.

"So... you and your Jack aren't together?"

"Nope."

He pursed his lips as if in thought. "Is it a problem for you, that we are?"

Daniel shrugged. "A little envious, maybe." The four simple words were followed by an immediate pang in his gut. Maybe more than a little, if he were honest with himself.

"So do something about it," Jackson urged. "Make a move. Jack loves it when I go alpha on him and--"

Daniel groaned and closed his eyes. "I did not need to know that."

His double snorted his amusement. "Sure ya did. He especially loves it when I take his--"

Daniel covered his ears with both hands, eyes still stubbornly closed. "Stop talking!" he said loudly.

"What the hell are you waiting for?" Jackson chuckled, knowing Daniel could still hear him. "Not like you to be shy. Believe me, I know."

Stalling, in the hopes of getting his temper under control, Daniel circled around the desk to plop back into a chair. "Oh, I don't know, the whole military thing maybe?" he replied tersely. "How'd you get around the no-frat regs, anyway?"

"We weren't a front-line team anymore, no chain of command. We're diplomats, now, remember?"

"Ah, right." His eyes widened at the thought of Jack O'Neill-- any Jack O'Neill as a diplomat...

Jackson waved it off and busied himself with the coffee. "You know you could seduce him, right? Make him not care about any of that."

"Is that what you did?"

"Oh, he wanted it. Do you for one minute think that I could make Jack O'Neill do something he didn't really want to do?"

Daniel canted his head, his eyebrows knit in thought. "Y'know, I'm a little confused about something. Had an unusual run-in this morning in the locker room with a flyboy named Cameron Mitchell. He seemed to think I was someone named 'Sunshine'."

His double sniffed, not really trying to hide his smile. "Ye-ah... that was over a long time ago. Before Jack."

"Really," he said doubtfully. "His hand was pretty anxious to be down the back of my pants a couple of hours ago. Didn't feel so terribly 'over' to me." Daniel waited quietly while the other man considered him carefully.

Finally he smirked and wiggled his eyebrows in a really ridiculous way Daniel hoped to god he'd never imitated. "Mitchell's a pretty hard habit to give up."

Daniel sighed, unsurprised disappointment filling his belly as he shook his head. "Yeah, that's what I figured," he replied unhappily. "You're married-- doesn't that mean anything to you?"

Suddenly defensive, the other scowled. "Are you preaching to me? The same Daniel Jackson who fucked his way through half the Bruins soccer team sophomore year?"

Daniel frowned. "Hyperbole much? It was three guys."

"At the same time!" Jackson reminded him meanly. "And they were brothers."

"What's your point? We were all willing, and none of us was married. I hadn't taken any vows--"

"My point is, you're a hypocrite, and this isn't any of your business."

"Maybe not," Daniel grimaced sadly, "but it kinda feels like it is."

After finally getting onto the same page with Jack, and with the promise of a relationship right around the corner, it was disquieting to find out that things between this Jack and Daniel weren't quite as idyllic as they'd first appeared. The whole thing made him a little sick to his stomach.

He wondered if O'Neill knew.

*****

Jack was standing in O'Neill's office one second, shrugging into a gray fleece jacket, and the next, he was standing right beside a wire-framed freight elevator, apparently underneath more than a mile of solid ice.

The crew in the immediate vicinity came to an unhurried 'at ease', and after O'Neill introduced them, they each went about their business without a second glance. Here, as in the SGC, it was apparently completely normal for personnel to interact with a matched pair of Colonels, distinguishable only by the color of their coats and the degree of gray in their hair.

As they proceeded around the facility, Jack was glad for the jacket, cramming his hands down deep into the plush pockets as he suppressed a shudder that had little to do with the cold. He didn't have great memories of either time he'd been on the continent.

"We keep a skeleton crew here, just to keep the place lived in, in case we need to power everything up in a hurry," O'Neill said over his shoulder. Jack followed him as he walked through underground arches that opened into high-ceiling spaces. Inside each icy chamber was a well-lit DRASH shelter, shaped much like a Quonset hut, but made of a double layer of Xytex, in order to protect the equipment from the extreme cold. It also made sense to insulate the frozen infrastructure from the warmer climate the people and various types of technology required. In the corner of each room, Jack spotted a naquada generator, providing clean, stink-free power.

"At any one time, we've got a handful of personnel," O'Neill continued, "two pair of Marines, just for the heavy lifting, and-- Ralph? Where are ya? Oh, there ya are. Didn't see ya under the table there. Colonel Jack O'Neill, visiting, Major Ralph Jennings. He kinda runs the place."

Jennings set down the box he was holding and nodded to O'Neill, while offering his hand to Jack. "Welcome to Antarctica, sir."

"Love what you've done with the place," Jack said approvingly.

"I assume you're here for a live fire test?" Jennings asked.

"Haven't a clue, Major," Jack said lightly as he casually looked the place over. It was covered in chicken scratch that would make Daniel's teeth itch to get a hold of. "I'm just following the old guy around."

"Hey," O'Neill complained with a frown, "practice your shtick somewhere else, this is my gig."

He turned to Jennings. "Everything ready?"

"Yes, sir. All three exhaust portals are set for drone recall."

"Exxxcellent," O'Neill murmured with a jerk of his head toward the corridor. "Let's go." As they passed through the long, icy hallway, he explained, "Like I said before, the chair uses a mental interface which only links up to someone with the Ancient gene--"

"Watch who you're calling ancient, buddy. You're older than me."

"Ancient. Capital 'A'. And you're about outta mileage with the senior citizen rap, if ya don't mind my sayin' so."

They arrived at a large, cavernous room with an even higher-domed icy ceiling. Front and center was an ornate-bordering-on-gaudy LazyBoy on its own small platform.

"It's a chair," Jack deadpanned.

"Of course it is. Clear your mind and have a seat."

"You first."

"Oh, for cryin' out loud," O'Neill said, rolling his eyes. "Y'know, I said we'd be back by lunchtime, but that presumes that you cooperate a little bit. Think you can do that?"

He shoved past Jack and sat, which caused the dais to light up, and then pushed down with his butt, and the chair itself lit up as the unit tilted back. "Watch and learn." Immediately, a hologram of the solar system filled the air over them.

"Holy crap..."

"And this?" The image of a city skyline, as lacy as a crystal snowflake and populated with beautiful spires that seemed to reach up into the heavens, sparkled overhead.

Jack leaned back, struggling to get all of it into his field of vision at once. It seemed to fill the room, pulsing with life. He had the notion living city, but had no rational basis for understanding what the phrase meant. "Cool. What the hell is it?"

"Haven't figured that out yet," O'Neill stated simply. He lowered the foot of the chair, and the light went off. He got up and swept into a low bow. "Next."

Jack approached the chair cautiously. They'd discussed the whole 'thinking the drones out' concept while they were waiting for their ride, and it all seemed pretty wacky to him. He hated all this sci-fi crap.

Standing just close enough to touch the armrests, Jack cautiously poked the gummy touchpad with the tip of one finger.

O'Neill rolled his eyes. "Will you just sit?"

"Don't rush me," Jack scowled. "I'm gettin' to it." He walked completely around the chair once, bending to check the underside, then a second time, scanning the ceiling over it. Then he poked the jiggly parts again, for good measure. It was all just reasonable command caution, and not at all designed to piss off his counterpart.

When Jack's ass finally connected with the seat of the chair, it behaved just as it had for O'Neill, lighting up, tilting back. Under his palms, the gelatinous controls quivered, seeking direction. It was creepy.

"The HUD's in your mind, unless you choose to project it out here," O'Neill reminded him. "Think what you want, and the chair will retrieve the relevant records from the database. Imagine the idea of stored, directable, energy drones, like glowing baby squid, ready to do your bidding. See the planet from space."

Jack closed his eyes, and it all came into focus. "Ship..."

"Yeah, that's Prometheus," O'Neill said softly. "Now kill it."

"What!?"

"You have to think the drones to launch. Let the adrenaline surge from the fear response drive them. This is a live fire demonstration; it has to be that way, or you wouldn't feel the connection with the drones strongly enough to control them. The system is set to launch at your command, and then recall them prior to impact with the ship."

"You're taking a big chance, fella," Jack warned.

O'Neill shook his head. "Sitting in this chair is like having an extra sense. You gotta trust the system to respond to your thoughts. We've taken every precaution. This is a live fire drill for Prometheus too. If any of the drones pass the pre-set limit, they'll take 'em out. You gotta relax, though, or your trajectory'll be way off. Now let the chair talk to you. Shut up and listen! That ship's attacking your planet-- DO something!"

Suddenly, Jack's hands began moving, manipulating the unfamiliar controls, and although he was pretty sure there was no sound in the chamber, he could hear the whine of missiles zipping through the atmosphere, intent on destroying the invader in near space.

It was as though the chair was telling him what he could do, urging him to act, offering him glowy-squid on a platter. The hand controls seemed to change the menu of options, but the decision FIRE-FIRE-FIRE came from his brain, powered by his gut. In his mind, he could see golden lights pour out of the exhaust tubes in a steady, radiant stream, guided strictly by his will and enfolding Prometheus in glowy illumination, which looked like so many Christmas lights.

In the end, he didn't know how many he'd set off, or how many it should take to destroy a ship the size of Prometheus, because none of the drones connected with it, most veering away at the last minute and heading back to base.

"He's moving away."

"Follow him. These things have amazing range."

As Prometheus ambled away --he'd never seen it from space before, was that a butt-ugly ship, or what?-- Jack continued the barrage, just to see how far they'd go.

"Hey, watch the inventory," O'Neill complained. "These things don't grow on trees y'know. See how many drones you've used, how many you have left. Keep an eye on their weapons banks, then when they shoot, you can intercept--"

"I see it," Jack said tightly. He thought a drone at the energy beam, and it exploded instantly. "Jesus, that's-- breaking orbit now. He's on the run."

Jack launched a pair of drones, circled the swiftly moving craft with them on an 'XY' axis, then launched a single to form the 'Z' axis, just to see if he could, leaving the three of them spinning like a model of an atom around the craft.

"Very good. Now watch the spares coming back home, replenishing the armory. Poke around in there. See what else you can bring up."

Jack could see the twinkling blue jewel that was Earth, hanging in the black velvet of space, as though he were in an Al'kesh, looking down upon it. But it was more. He could see the heat from people, the sparse areas near the poles, and deserts that held few inhabitants, in drastic comparison to the tight knots of humanity in the more densely populated urban areas.

He could also see the chair he was sitting in, glowing golden beneath the ice, and the trail of drones heading away, straight for the ship, which was now powering hyperdrive engines, in order to spirit away the seventy-four bodies aboard to safety.

"Can I target just the hyperdrive, the weapons platform? Leave the ship and people intact?"

"Could, I suppose. Why would you want to?"

"Dunno. Disable first, ask questions later?"

"Yeah, that's enough crazy talk," O'Neill snapped. "Bring the drones home, and let's close it up."

Jack thought them all home and pushed the chair upright, blinking his eyes open reluctantly.

"What'd ya think?"

"Headache. A little nauseous."

"Yeah, that's typical."

Jack groaned and pressed his temples with both thumbs. "Just what I need, a squid hangover."

"Think the lights down." It became instantly dark, and from the other room, they could hear Jennings complain wearily, "Every damn time."

Jack thought them back up a little in the chair room, and 'bright enough to sear retinas' in the back room, where Jennings was. He smiled at the pained squeak that resulted.

"Well, that was a little like the sixties, wasn't it?" Jack asked, levering up from the chair.

O'Neill snorted, and led the way to the DRASH that served as a break room. He grabbed two bottles of water off the counter and tossed one to Jack. "Drink this. You're just dehydrated. You'll feel better in an hour or so."

They sat at the table and drank. "We've got about twenty guys with the gene who can operate the chair with varying degrees of success, but only Shep and I've had any real battle time."

"You took out Ba'al?" At O'Neill's nod, Jack added, "Who else?"

"Some lunkhead named Camulus came buzzing around last year, trying to make a name for himself. Lotsa big talk, kinky little leather kilt, but it was all bluster. Shep took him out without breaking a sweat.

"Shep?"

"Major John Shepherd. We had him stationed in McMurdo when we started the screening, but he's at Edwards now. The climate seems to suit him a little better there." He tapped the inside of his arm. "He and I wear transponders, so Prometheus can find us and get us here at a moment's notice, otherwise we periodically rotate those identified as having the gene through here, following their initial training, just to keep it manned."

"Everybody else stationed here is just support?"

"Yeah."

"No linguists to study all that writing in there?"

O'Neill pursed his lips and shook his head.

"Huh, I'm kinda surprised you're able to keep Daniel outta here."

"He wasn't kidding about the whole, 'frozen in the Ancient's pod' thingy-- he hates this place. Gets pissy every time I have to come here," O'Neill said seriously. "I have a secret stash of dark roast Colombian I use to buy myself out of the funk my coming here seems to send him into."

"He does seem just a little bit more high strung than mine," Jack observed quietly. He'd noticed how Jackson had gone from normal to livid in the space of a heartbeat during breakfast.

"Yeah," O'Neill allowed, as he peeled the label off his water bottle. "Too much time in the sarcophagus may have made him a little...

"Paranoid?"

"Maybe a little."

"Nuts?"

"Hey! There's nothing wrong with his brain. He's still twice as smart as you and I put together, pal."

"But he's just a little... flaky."

"Yeah, just like piecrust. We about done here?"

"Whatever you say. What was it you said powered this rig?"

"Zero point module. We got this one at a planet called Proclarush Taonas, but don't ask me to spell it. C'mon, I'll show ya where it goes."

*****

Jack brandished the chessboard. "Why does it feel like you're avoiding me?" He'd been back from his Antarctic adventure for more than an hour, looking for Daniel in all the usual places. He'd finally tracked him to his quarters, the one O'Neill had intended them to share.

Daniel backed into his room, folding his arms across his chest, as Jack came in and closed the door behind him. "Um, maybe because I am?"

"And why would that be?"

Daniel finished his stroll around the room, keeping the table between them, and blew out a strained breath, trying to relax. Holding onto the back of the chair, he leaned on it, shoulders hunched, his eyes trained on just the tabletop and the papers it held and not on the chessboard Jack had just set down on top of them.

"I used to… fantasize about what your lips would feel like, what your--" he swallowed hard, his mouth dry as sand, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. "What you'd... taste like." He frowned, trying to keep his voice level, gripping the chair tightly, so it could anchor him, so his empty hands were kept busy. "But what would get me off the hardest was," Jack underneath him, straining against each thrust as he powered into him, needing it, craving it, crying out his name-- "imagining what you'd sound like when you came."

Daniel closed his eyes. The goddamn aftershave --was that earthy fragrance really a product from a bottle, or god, just the regular scent of his skin?-- it got him every damn time. He could feel his dick lengthening as Jack's 'it's been a long day' aroma filled his lungs. Not offensive, but warm and unique, recognized. Loved. He wanted nothing more than to bury his face in Jack's neck, his groin, and breathe him in...

"I-um… I could hear them through the wall last night. Him. I heard him come."

In his pockets, Jack's hands curled into fists. Goddamn bastards set this up. But his face betrayed nothing. "That wasn't me," he said levelly. I don't make noise, haven't for a lotta years...

Daniel looked up then, his eyes focusing on Jack's mouth and he could imagine himself coming around the table to take the other man into his arms, feeling those lips first hand, as he claimed Jack for their first kiss... and the second, and the third, tasting him for real, and not just in his imagination. Not stopping. Never stopping.

He'd wanted Jack from the first. Five years of agonized craving, followed by uncomfortable distance, and then glowiness, and finally confusion and resignation. Now that he knew for sure it was mutual, it was so much more difficult to step back. He was so hard, he could feel his pulse beating an impatient rhythm between his legs. From the corner of his eye, he saw Jack reach out for him, and that jarred him out of his trance. "Don't!"

"Daniel, I--"

He turned away with a strangled-sounding laugh. "You really need to go, Jack, I can't... this is too hard."

"Was that some kind of bad pun?" Daniel's over the shoulder glare assured him it was not. Jack was flattered as hell, but leaving was the last thing he wanted to do at this moment. He looked around the room, the one that was supposed to have been theirs together, and winced. He shouldn't be here, alone with Daniel, with so much need between them. Walking away felt wrong, but he didn't know what to do, how to fix things so they could work together easily again. "I don't want to go," he said softly.

Daniel slid his hands into his pockets, hoping to obscure the evidence of his arousal as he turned to face Jack, trying for normal. "Yeah," he agreed with a forced smile. "It doesn't help to know it's legal here. It's all just too tempting."

"Legal doesn't solve the problem. I'm still your CO, and we're still on a mission." Who was he trying to convince?

"I know all that. I'm counting in my head all the time now. How fast can we turn it around when we get back? How many more missions before we can be together--"

"We don't have to wait." It was out of his mouth and into the charged air between them before his brain had even registered the fact that his lips had formed the words. Daniel's eyes went wide and met his suddenly, and Jack was nearly knocked over with the force of the desire he saw there, making him hard almost instantly. He figured he could probably come just from hearing Daniel breathe his name at this point.

Committed now, Jack finished the thought. "No one has to know."

Daniel looked at him, gauging his response, his offer, and judged it to be genuine, if a little foolhardy. "You'll know," Daniel whispered sadly. "I don't want us to be some dirty little secret, Jack, something you have to hide or be ashamed of, or grow to resent me for. This is too important to me. You're too important. When we finally do this, I'm going to want everyone to know you're mine."

He moved away towards the bathroom, pausing with one hand on the doorjamb. He spoke softly, his eyes not quite meeting Jack's, afraid to see the clutching want that would mirror his own. "In the meantime, how about you keep your damned aftershave on the other side of the room, so I don't feel this perpetual need to ravish you, huh? And if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go have myself another cold shower before lunch. Lock up on your way out. I could be some time."

*****

They always sat across from each other, with the safety of a table between them. It was mirror-day 2, dinnertime, and Martha had made blueberry crumb cobbler for dessert. Jack was tempted to ask her to come back with them.

"I kinda feel like we're the Waltons, here," he muttered to his double, who'd again selected a seat across from him and next to Daniel.

"Yeah? Well, you can be John-Boy, then, since you're so much younger than me. How's that?" he smirked.

Jack made a face, but resisted the urge to stick out his tongue. Addressing Daniel, he asked, "Have you found your point of divergence yet?"

Daniel shook his head and swallowed the bite of chicken he'd been chewing. "Not yet. We've still got the last three or four years to go, though, so..."

Mirror Daniel took the same seat he'd had at breakfast and sat beside his spouse, while the two Sams both sat to Jack's right, thoroughly engrossed in a discussion about their day at Area 51, complete with Rodney McKay anecdotes.

On a hunch, Jack directed his next question to his double. "Out of curiosity, did you go to a planet called Kelowna?"

O'Neill rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah. Bastards had the whole 'might makes right' thing goin' on. Built a bomb they'd enhanced with something called Naquadria, to intimidate the rest of the planet. Daniel tried to talk some sense into the boneheads, but the damned thing went off right as that Jonas fella was showing him around. Then this fool shoots the window out and shuts the damned thing down all by himself. Cooked his goose but good."

"Jack--"

"Don't 'Jack' me, Daniel," O'Neill snarled under his breath to the man next to him. "This is no different than the headsucker thingy, and you know it. It's the same goddamn issue, isn't it."

"To use your words, it all worked out okay, didn't it?"

"That's not the point--!"

Daniel leaned around O'Neill in order to ask his double, "You got the radiation poisoning?"

"Oh, yeah. It was bad."

"Then...?"

Jackson patted O'Neill on the back and grinned. "Conan here went after a sarcophagus."

"I was almost too late..."

"It worked out," Jackson repeated.

"Yeah, for us. We sent Kelowna humanitarian aid for a while, but one day, after about six months, their gate wouldn't open anymore."

Jack nudged his Carter who was the Sam sitting next to him. "That was the difference? That Daniel didn't die?"

"You died?" Jackson asked, the shock apparent on his face.

Daniel bobbed his head a little, eyes fixed on his plate. "Mostly."

"And you LET him?" O'Neill glared at Jack.

"I was under orders not to go after the sarcophagus!"

"Didn't stop me!"

"I'm. Not. YOU!" he bellowed back And as far as Jack could see, O'Neill wasn't doing such a hot job taking care of his Daniel, if the sarc was the cause of all the extra flakiness.

"Shut up, both of you," Jackson snapped, elbowing O'Neill in the ribs. O'Neill grunted out loud, as he was pushed forward so his husband could see around him to Daniel. "So how did you--"

"You're both missing the point, sirs," Sam interjected calmly. "He was with them that whole year that ours was gone, working on translating the tablet we found in the secret room on Abydos. That's why they've found the lost city already."

"No, huh-uh," Jackson said, forgetting his earlier train of thought "That tablet just led us on a wild goose chase to some obscure planet with meaningless ruins and some scattered nomadic tribes. We found the headsucker colonnade completely by accident, and that eventually got us to the ancient weapons platform, just as Ba'al came calling."

"The download also gave me the healing mojo that saved Bra'tac's ass," O'Neill said, gesturing the string of events out. "But then, if you don't have to grab the ship with the Jaffa double agent, you won't need to save the old coot, because he won't be mortally wounded in the first place."

Jack simply looked at O'Neill, squinching up his face in confusion. "What?"

"The healing mojo," O'Neill explained impatiently. "Some kind of Ancient trick like what'shername--" he snapped his fingers, trying to recall.

"Ayiana?" Sam offered the table in general.

"That's her," Carter and Jackson said together.

"Yeah, her. That healing thingy got sucked out with the rest of the database, but it sure came in handy that one time."

"Sounds like we're still gonna need a scout ship to burn through more than a mile of ice, to even get down to the chair," Jack said.

"True. But if you already know which Jaffa's the turncoat, you can take him out before he becomes a problem," O'Neill said with finality.

Frowning, Sam said, "Wait. Colonnade. SG-2. Whereabouts was this?"

Carter spoke up. "P3X-439, why?"

Sam shook her head. Something was lodged in the back of her mind, but she couldn't quite grab onto it. "Maybe nothing, I dunno."

The lost conversational thread surfaced suddenly in Jackson's brain, and he nearly choked on his soda. "So how'd you get to be un-dead, if you don't have a sarcophagus on your side?"

Daniel glanced over at Jack, who, after a moment, nodded. "You remember Oma Desala from Kheb?" he asked quietly.

"Ye-ah," Jackson replied cautiously.

"Well... as I lay dying, she appeared to me, to my subconscious. She offered to help me ascend."

Eyes wide as saucers, the mirror-Sam spoke up. "Like Orlin?"

Daniel nodded. "Yes." Looking at the stunned faces that were all staring at him, he frowned. "You mean in all the times you've done this, you've never run across a version where I've ascended?"

"Never," Jackson said, his eyes riveted to Daniel's face. He scooted his chair back and stood, bringing his Coke with him to sit in the empty chair on Daniel's other side. "How'd it work?" he asked eagerly "Can anyone do it?"

O'Neill frowned at his husband, cold tendrils of fear snaking around his gut. "Now, hold on just a minute there--"

"Hush, Jack," Jackson said distractedly. Eyes still on Daniel, he added impatiently, "Go on. Start at the beginning."

*****

Chapter 2: Uncounted Cost - The price of trust betrayed and hope destroyed.