Prequel: Mirror, Mirror
Characters: SG-1, SGC, AU Daniel (Elizabeth Jackson)

ESRB Rating: Mature - Strong Language, Sexual Themes
Themes: Episode Tag, Angst, Team, Pre-Slash/Ship
Season: S3
Spoilers: S3 Point of View

Written: January 06

“This is crap, Jack.” Dr. Elizabeth Jackson hadn’t bothered with a knock on the Colonel’s door, simply barging through and slapping a folder down on his desk. Needless to say his meeting with Sergeant Siler was put on hold.

“It’s good to see you too, Doctor Jackson. Something I can do for you today?” Jack had a really good idea what this was about, but decided to string things along a bit. Hopefully it’d give the daggers in Elizabeth’s eyes time to resheath themselves. Not that he was really holding out much hope for that. He knew that look only too well, he was just used to an Adam’s Apple coming along with it.

Usually it was kind of fun to watch one of the civilians rip into Colonel O’Neill — they didn’t have the threat of a court martial looming over their heads after all — but this didn’t look like it was going to be fun to watch. No, Siler decided, this was going to be ugly and awkward. What he wouldn’t give to have a wrench in his hands instead of a clipboard.

“Crap,” was Elizabeth’s repost, one finger jabbing dangerously at the folder she’d violently delivered.

Jack flicked it open with caution. Fake, spring-loaded snakes, maybe a bug of some sort; never knew with these scientist types. “Ah, it’s the itinerary for tomorrow’s mission briefing. Looks familiar.” He flicked it closed again with a brilliantly false smile. “Oh, that’s right: I wrote it.”

“And my name isn’t on it. Again. I got this off Daniel’s desk.”

“Look, Liz…” She hated ‘Liz’ as much as Daniel hated ‘Danny’, but like her counter part, tolerated it. It was Jack’s way of trying to put them at ease. Except not only was it not going to work this time, it only threw more cordwood onto her fire.

“This is the fourth time, Jack. I’m as much a member of SG-1 as Major Carter or Teal’c. Or Daniel. How long do you think you’re going to get away with shuffling me into a corner when you go off world?”

Siler longingly thought about having an emergency root canal. Right now.

Squinting down at the offending briefing outline, Jack let out a long, slow sigh. “Look. It’s just— last time you and Daniel were together off world… you got yourselves transported to that station on the moon. The moon, for crying out loud!” He angled a sharp look up at her, mouth set into a knife thin line.

Her hands threw themselves into the air. Siler flinched. “It wasn’t like we did that on purpose! And we got ourselves back I’d like to point out.”

“After two days!”

“There was a lot to translate!”

“And we had half of the SGC crawling around that swamp of a planet looking for you two, trying to figure out how you’d activated that Ancient transporter.”

“Who stuck his head in a hole and had an entire Ancient archive downloaded into his brain, hmm?”

Jack sighed again, setting his elbows on his desk and fists at his temples. He hated when she did… that. Hated! Brought up things she wasn’t there to know. But that she knew anyway. Because she had been there. Sort of. Guh, thinking hurt.

“How long are you going to hold this against me, Jack! And why isn’t it Daniel being left home hanging onto Hammond’s apron strings?” She lifted her sharp chin defiantly.

He had to take a moment and remember why he’d agreed to take this other Dr. Jackson under his wing. And take a couple of deep breaths and remind himself he didn’t hit people who wore glasses as a general rule. Or girls. But most especially girls wearing glasses.

Even when he really, really, really wanted to right about now.

It was true Dr. Elizabeth Jackson was a full fledged member of SG-1. Again. In an alternate reality/suddenly his reality sort of way. Originally both General Hammond and Jack had been against the idea Daniel and Elizabeth were trying to pitch. Two heads were better then one, twice as fast in those ‘dusty ruins’ Jack hated so much, translations at the speed of light, and of course the ongoing search for Skaa’ra and Sha’re.

But it just didn’t feel right. At least at first. All the eggs in one basket, that sort of thing. Not that General Hammond had any better ideas what to do with her. She was supremely over qualified for any of his other SG Teams, and he was reluctant to just dump her in R&D. He knew it wasn’t what she wanted, but the idea of both Jacksons out in the field at the same time….

Then the NID had come sniffing around and suddenly Jack thought it an excellent idea to have not one but two insatiably curious civilian archeologists who rarely listened to his orders on his team. Hammond agreed. It wasn’t the best way to come to a conclusion, but it kept the hounds off Elizabeth’s heels and gave them both at least a measure of comfort to know she’d be watched over. Like Daniel, Elizabeth somehow effortlessly encouraged others to want to shelter her. She loathed it as much as Daniel, too.

Their very first mission as a team of five had been to the swamp with the Asgard research station on the moon the Jackson’s had someone transported themselves to.

Their second mission, Elizabeth had been hip deep in some sort of translation of an artifact SG-9 had brought back, and as the mission was just a routine soil sample collection, “a Carter mission”, she gladly took Jack up on his casual suggestion of skipping this one.

The third time was when she got suspicious; Jack had sent her in place of them with SG-4 to a treaty renewal ceremony with the Madronians, they of the unique weather device, while the rest of SG-1 went to investigate unusual energy emissions from a circle of stones on another planet.

This time, his report argued that Elizabeth’s ongoing work with Dr. Klimer was “far more important” than her joining them for their survey of P2X-245.

She’d caught him red handed.

“Look,” Jack said for a third time, pushing his knuckles against the desk and standing. Sergeant Silar wasn’t all but forgotten, he was completely forgotten. “The two of you together are like escaped convicts from a button pushing asylum on the hunt for even more big red buttons.” He’d meant to go on, but she didn’t let him.

Folding her arms tersely, Elizabeth regarded Jack O’Neill in turns with blistering heat and icy frigidity. Both made his skin crawl unpleasantly. She was doing it again. That move and act exactly like Daniel thing. But some… girl-Daniel. Well, not ’some’. More hating! Very creepy! Jack gave her a sour look.

“Then you reassign me to another team. Or, better yet, find another way to augment your overly developed sense of paranoia. Because I’m taking this to General Hammond.” And then she whirled out, slamming the door behind her.

Siler could hear the Colonel grinding his teeth from all the way over where he was standing. In a corner. Behind his clipboard and report. It would’ve been the potted plant, too, if the lanky man thought he could get away with it.

“Transdimensional women, hmm?”

“Yes, sir.” It seemed the safest answer.

Elizabeth had spent almost two months living on base before she could move out on her own. She’d spend a day or two here and there off with Daniel or Major Carter shopping, but the VIP suite was still were she was hanging her hat. First, she simply needed to ‘exist’. She didn’t have a lick of ID or two pennies to rub together, two things you needed to get by in any universe, parallel or not. Once the United States government let her be a person once more, she had to get a clean bill of health from Dr. Frasier. Janet, as far as she could tell, could only conclude Elizabeth wasn’t going to suffer an “entropic cascade failure” any time soon. But, to be on the safe side, she’d convinced General Hammond not to have the mirror destroyed as he’d originally wanted to, instead having it sent back to Nellis with its additional security detail.

Then Elizabeth had had to wait another few weeks to secure (another) studio in her ‘old’ building. She’d liked her apartment, after all. It was three floors up from Daniel’s and on the other side of the building, so while it had the same exact floor plan, it was all flipped 180 degrees. “Appropriate,” she’d muttered as she’d dotted the ‘i’ in her name on the lease.

Her meeting with General Hammond had been rocky at best. He certainly saw - and was forced to side - with her point of view, but he also knew what Jack was trying to deal with. Daniel Jackson had already racked up impressive hours in the infirmary and George didn’t envy the Colonel in the least. But this had been Jack’s idea and she was either a member of SG-1 or she wasn’t. And as she very much was, Hammond said he’d have a word with Jack and to go ahead and assume she was on tomorrow’s mission unless she heard otherwise. From him. That meant she had to go home and set a few things to rights before coming back to base to spend the night. Her fish, telling the front desk to hold her mail, that sort. He’d given her his leave and gone about punching Jack’s extension in his phone.

Even with everything mostly settled, Elizabeth was still upset and frustrated. She threw her keys on the table just inside her front door with a noisy clatter as she came in.

She’d already worked through all this with Jack O’Neill almost three years ago. His over protective nature, his insistence that she needed to be sheltered and coddled, shielded somehow. Whether it was because she was a woman, a civilian or some combination in there of — it pissed Elizabeth off. Except she’d had it with her Jack O’Neill. And that man was dead. This was a new one, a different one, and so the chess pieces had to be reset on the board.

Walking around the place, she cast a critical eye at the still sparsely furnished apartment. A surge of jealousy bubbled up inside Elizabeth again. It just wasn’t fair. Daniel not only had her life, but he had her couch, her piano, her bedroom set, her quietly squirreled away artifacts, her friends and her relationships. He even had her parking spot at Cheyenne.

But that wasn’t fair, she reminded herself. Taking up the fish tank’s feeder, she went through the last ten weeks again in her mind, making sure she stressed to herself how this wasn’t her world but Daniel’s and he had every right to claim the parking spot he’d always had, or the bedroom set he also found attractive. Or the friendships he’d spent four years forming. Daniel had called this her “precious gift”, being here, and Elizabeth had to stop looking at it like a gift horse in the mouth. It was just… lonely sometimes. Starting your entire life over again with people who didn’t know they knew you well.

Since she didn’t particularly feel like getting back to the SGC any time soon, she took her time cleaning the fish tank, packing her small bag, running a load of wash so it wouldn’t be waiting for her, and calling down to the desk to hold her mail. It was around five o’clock when she finally found herself in her kitchen, contemplating the choices: make something with what she had here, order in, or fend for herself tonight in the commissary. None of those really appealed to her, but she picked up the Chinese menu out of its drawer anyway before grabbing the cordless.

Before she got the number dialed in, the doorbell gave its soft ‘ping pong’, making her narrow her eyes down at the pink tri-folded menu in her hand. She, after all, was a woman from a parallel universe. Had she come into a world where there were precognitive restaurants who preemptively brought her cashew chicken?

The bell went off again, so she went to see who it could be. Girl Scouts had been around a few weeks ago so maybe it was her Samoas. Swinging the door open, Elizabeth looked out into the hall at — Jack.

He was dressed in civvies: jeans, long sleeved green shirt, leather jacket. And gruff expression. Elizabeth matched gruff with droll, mouth pursing just a touch while her eyebrows lifted gently over her glasses. Well, she figured. She knew they had to talk, and it might as well be here instead of the gate ramp tomorrow. “You like Beef Lo Mien?” There was emphasis on ‘you’. You. This Jack. Of this world.

Jack narrowed his eyes as she turned to let him invite himself in. There it was again. Knowing him when he didn’t feel like she had the right — or logistics — to. But he liked him the Beef Lo Mien. “Uhm, yeah.” Out of habit he locked the door behind him when he closed it. Never knew when the ninjas might attack.

She was back in the kitchen, dialing the number and ordering dinner for two. With the phone tucked between her ear and shoulder, she went about getting plates and silverware out, thoroughly distracted by the mundane tasks. Jack was left to wander the living room, so he shucked off his jacket and let it fall on the arm of the sofa. He watched her move through the kitchen, dressed in her own civvies.

In the tan slacks, white keds and soft pink v-neck sweater, it was easier for Jack to see her as an individual instead of some blurred version of his friend Daniel. They were similar, to be sure, but not so intensely. Not here, when she was like this. But inside the mountain, when she and Daniel were wandering around in matching uniforms, looking at him with the same blue eyes through the same glasses, speaking with their hands in the same patterns, with the same passionate fascination… it just set his hackles up.

Jack always privately thought Hammond had had the gest of it when he’d said that some lines just weren’t meant to be crossed. But, since they had been… might as well eat Chinese with them.

The phone beeped off softly and then the familiar sound of a refrigerator opening brought Jack back to himself. And he felt self conscious for his train of thought. Rubbing at the back of his neck, he moved quickly to the sliding glass window and frowned out over Colorado Springs. It was late into October and a light flurry of snow was falling. It added a gloomy quality to the world that he could get behind.

He’d just slid his hands into his back pockets when he felt something tap lightly on his bicep. Looking down, it was Elizabeth offering him a beer. Jack didn’t get it, but both Jacksons kept his favorite brand on hand. When neither of them really liked it. He supposed it was of a similar reasoning why he kept a bottle of that riesling he knew Daniel liked down in his cellar. She had a bottle of water for herself.

Jack twisted the cap off, having to resist the urge to snap it off into the house randomly. In a lighter mood, he might have gotten away with it. But not right now. He tucked it into his pocket instead.

“They said it’d be about twenty minutes because of the weather. Oh, also, the clerk agreed with me that you trying to toss me off into a closet like a dirty little secret was crap.” Somehow he doubted Elizabeth Jackson had divulged national secrets to some guy in a take out place, but he got the point anyway.

“Liz, it isn’t like that.” He shifted awkwardly, frowning down at his still undrunk beer. Instead he started to scrape at the label with a thumbnail.

“Then what is it.” Expression long and expectant, it was deceptively calm as she lifted the bottle of water to her pink mouth. Again, a look he was familiar with but lacking in its usual inclusion of an Adam’s Apple. Either way, it wrenched the same reaction out of him: made him feel guilty. Maybe a little stupid. Like he’d been acting irrational. Jack had always thought it was a look Daniel must have practiced in front of a mirror, but now he knew they were just born with it.

“It’s….” How to put this into words. Words that didn’t make things any worse. Frowning, he scratched along his jaw with the same thumb that had been assaulting the label, trying to both meet and avoid those blue eyes of his— hers. “You and Daniel… together… it’s kind of like herding cats. I mean, good, smart cats who just want to do what’s right but…” Jack narrowed his eyes. This didn’t sound as clever outside his head as it had inside it. “Cats,” he concluded. “Yeah.” He was frowning through a squint.

Elizabeth had another droll expression waiting for him. She knew he was trying, could see it play across the lines and wrinkles coming and going off his brow, but he either had to accept her or he had to reject her. This in-between thing couldn’t go on any more.

“Then talk to us about it. Daniel and I are both adults. I know we can get carried away sometimes–” Jack’s eyebrow spiked at her. “Okay. A lot of times. But it isn’t as if we’re unreasonable. Instead you’ve packed me off like some sort of red headed step child when we could have been spending these missions working on team dynamics.”

Now Jack felt bad and picked at the beer’s label again. “I didn’t mean to imply… I mean, I’ve seen you in PT. I know you can handle yourself. And I know you and Carter have been working together. You and Teal’c have even reached some sort of understanding. But…”

“But it bothers you that I know you without knowing you. It makes you naturally distrustful, and you can’t have that in the field. You need to know you can trust the people on your six.” Zing! Jack flinched softly, squinting a look up at her quickly before looking down at his hands. It was only after the fact he noticed she’d used ‘on your six’.

He couldn’t stop the corner of his mouth from curling up. It always amused him when Daniel tried to use military lingo, like another of his languages he was trying to familiarize himself with. But it just never sounded right coming from him, the words only passingly acquainted with his palate. It was the same with her.

Licking her lips, Elizabeth caught her tongue between her teeth in an ever-evolving frown before pressing the issue. “I know you mean well, Jack. I know this whole thing leaves you uncomfortable. I don’t like making you uncomfortable. You… he. The other Jack. He was one of my dearest friends. I was in his wedding. I had to talk him into proposing to Sam because he didn’t think he was ‘good enough’ for her.”

Jack hid behind his first swallow of beer. Because the idea of he and Carter being married always did funny things to him.

“I know you’re not him.” This Jack was alive, after all. “But you’re still a great man in your own right, and a great leader for SG-1. And maybe… another good friend.” Then Elizabeth was grinning and reached over to buff him in the shoulder. “You don’t always say a lot, but I know you’re feeling it.” Then, turning serious just as quickly, “Just — just give me a chance, Jack. I’m not just another Daniel. Admittedly, I’m an awful lot like him, but I’m my own person. Let me do what I came here to do.”

The war waged on for a bit longer behind his wood-brown eyes, drawing his eyebrows tight over his patrician nose and thinning his mouth. “Fine, yeah, alright.” He waved his free hand in a nonchalant approximation. He still had some more thinking he had to do on this, but he knew he’d never get the answers he wanted if he never let things play out.

“Fantastic. You can pay for dinner, too.” Her dimples were cheeky as she left him for the kitchen.

“Cats!” Jack yelled, stepping onto the gate’s ramp with his hands already reaching into the air. “Like herding cats!”

“Colonel?” Hammond was leaning over the mic, looking down into the gate room as SG-1 returned early. Behind O’Neill, Daniel was being escorted by Teal’c, the archaeologist cradling an arm while Elizabeth was helping Sam limp. Medics were already swarming up onto them.

“Game called on account of rain, sir. Big, fat rain that made puddles the size of Lake Superior.” He stopped to snatch his hat off and rush a hand through his wet hair. “‘But it’ll only take a second, sir.’ ‘It’s not that bad, Jack.’” Carter and Daniel had precision laser stares for the back of Jack’s head. Jack had a frustrated wave of his cap for them. Teal’c and Elizabeth simply handed their teammates off to the infirmary staff, expressions independently neutral.

“Get yourselves to the infirmary, SG-1. Colonel?” Motioning with his hand, Hammond gave O’Neill the go ahead to meet in his office.

“Doh.”

In the end Sam had a sprained ankle and Daniel had a dislocated elbow. The ridge hadn’t even been all that high, but when the rocks above them had been washed loose and released into the mini mudslide, it had turned out to be high enough to scrabble and fall from.

It was a Friday, so Hammond gave them the weekend with the stern promise of evaluating the situation in full Monday morning, 0800 sharp. Spirits were low.

Until Janet suggested, “Why not make it a movie night? Cassie’s home, we’ll rent something with Rupert Everett, get some popcorn and chocolate…” Sam was all big eyes and Elizabeth was flushed as Janet seemed to be including her too. Jack wasn’t the only one uncomfortable with being known so well by a total stranger and the tentative bonds of friendship between the women were wispy at best. But Elizabeth’s continued, attentive concern for her team members was softening Janet’s worried heart. It was so like Daniel, after all. “C’mon,” the infirmary’s Napoleon urged. “It’ll be fun.”

“Rupert Everett? Isn’t he that guy in all the Oscar Wilde stuff?” Jack was squinching his face, still grumpy on top of everything. He didn’t like when anyone on his team got hurt. Less so when it was something as simple as mud to blame. How was he supposed to protect them from something like mud?

Sam leveled an eyebrow at the Colonel, affecting her best haughty tone. “It’s a girl’s night out, and you’re not a girl. Sir. You’ll have to fend for yourself.” And then it was a done deal. Girl’s Night Out, Janet’s house, Elizabeth would supply the snacks while Janet wrestled Sam and her new cast through the video store.

“Yeah, well.” Sullen, cranky, but refusing to be out done, Jack threw an arm high over Teal’c’s shoulder. “We were going to have our own Guy’s Night Out anyway.”

“I’m afraid I cannot, O’Neill.”

“What? We’ll— we’ll watch Star Wars. Again.” It’d only be the, what. Eleventh? Twelfth time? Teal’c actually took a moment to consider this too, a thoughtful eyebrow arching slowly as he tilted his chin to the side. Eventually he shook a reluctant head.

“I promised Rya’c that I would come and visit him at the first possible opportunity. This would be the first possible opportunity. I have already spoken with General Hammond.”

Jack could only sigh, setting his hands on his hips and looking down at his boots. “Guess it’s just you and me, Danny.”

Daniel had a sigh of his own, but he’d kept it silent and inside. Only his mouth pouted gently. “Great,” he replied blandly. Jack was either undaunted or oblivious. Or maybe a little of each. Sam, Janet and Ellie exchanged looks. Teal’c just gave a respectful bow of his head and then beat a retreat before his resolve against Yoda failed.

“I already said whatever you wanted was okay with me, Jack.” They were at Jack’s place, Daniel standing near the couch. He was yet again trying to adjust the sling so it’d stop rubbing the back of his neck raw.

“What about ‘Hudson Hawk’? Bruce Willis and spy-nuns, always good times. Or ‘Clue’? ‘The flames, the flames on the side of my face…’?” Jack turned, holding up the DVDs.

Daniel wasn’t looking. Or paying attention. He was resetting the length of the sling again. “Sounds great.”

“What about ‘Totally Hot Hot Babes on Paradise Island’?” Jack frowned dangerously.

“Yeah, whatever. Just as lo— wait. What?” Glasses down his nose, Daniel shot an alarmed look over their rims at Jack, Jack giving him a broodingly dark look in return.

“Daniel. You’ve got to have some kind of opinion.”

“Okay, well, not ‘Totally Hot Hot… whatevers where ever’. ‘Clue’. ‘Clue’ sounded great.” Sounded great by way of being the first thing that came to mind from the long list of Jack’s that he hadn’t been listening to. Pursing his mouth and rolling his eyes wide, Daniel escaped down the hall and into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water.

“‘Clue’ it is!” Jack sounded triumphant, raising the DVD high into the air with both hands as if he might have mistaken it for the Stanley Cup. Then the doorbell was ringing and it had to be the Thai guy delivering. Daniel reached back into the fridge for a bottle of beer for Jack and then juggled both glass of water and bottle of beer back into the living room.

Jack was just tipping the guy when Daniel came padding down the hall in his bare feet. Jack was a socks kind of guy, so Daniel’s bare toes on his hardwood floor were always something of an odd fascination. Pale but not lilly white with just the right amount of hair sprinkled over the knuckles. Guy feet without being gross guy feet. Jack had spent enough time in the armed services to see some nasty feet. Daniel’s were nice. For feet. And toes. Jack guessed. He brought his eyebrows together as he gave the delivery guy one last nod before closing and locking the door.

“Oh cool, thanks.” Noting the beer Daniel set down on the coffee table for him, he went about pulling the styrofoam boxes from their paper bag. Plastic utensils were included so it was truly an all-in-one deal. Sliding Daniel’s in front of him, he fished out the extra peanut sauce and let that find its way to the archeologist.

“Jack?” It was Daniel’s tentative tone. The one he used when he wanted to ask something really important but wasn’t sure how to start. It immediately put Jack on the defensive.

The DVD was in but was still on the menu screen, the background music that promised zany hijinks turned way down. Jack was fiddling with the remote. He thought he might have a pretty good idea what was on Daniel’s mind, but he really didn’t want to go there. Not yet. He’d only just wound himself down from the fiasco as it was.

“Jack?” Now Daniel was impatient. Did he hear him?

Grouching out a “Yeah, what,” Jack went about breaking his rice ball up with some vicious spork stabs.

“Jack, are you going to use this as another excuse to keep Elizabeth off off-world missions?”

Damnit, Toto. Couldn’t he just leave that curtain alone?

“It isn’t like that, Daniel.” Jack let a heavy sigh out through his nose and slid a sidelong look over the other man. Daniel looked to be buying it as much as Elizabeth did. “This… this was an accident. No one’s fault.” ‘Except mine,’ the tiny Colonel, the one that was never off duty, in Jack’s mind reminded him.

His own spork poised over the satai, Daniel pressed the issue. “So that’s a no?”

Jack had another frown, the mouth so used to curving into sarcastic smirks setting itself into a rare hard line. “No, I’m not. Her name’ll be next to ours on the duty roster, and no doubt it’ll be her breaking something next time.”

Oh, he regretted that. He regretted it the second it was out of his mouth. He tried to strike a grin, tipping the beer bottle up in a devil may care way, but if Daniel’s long expression was anything, the devil cared very much.

“And what’s that supposed to mean.” The tiny Colonel in Jack’s mind winced. Daniel had apparently packed his sassy pants tonight. Daniel Jackson was as polite and mild mannered as you could ask — until you implied he couldn’t do something. And then the gloves came off.

Jack tried to shrug it all off, reaching for the remote quickly and hitting play. “Nothing.” But Daniel’s good hand dashed out like lightening and hit the pause button.

“No. What did you mean by that.”

“Nothing, Daniel. Honest. I was just— I miss-spoke.” The frown so recently creasing Jack’s features came back with a gusto. “You know I hate it when any of you guys get hurt. Let alone two of you. When I’m not there to see it or stop it.” Daniel let him stew for a few more minutes, Jack fidgeting and scrubbing at his short hair before he finally relented. Still holding the remote hostage, Daniel’s long finger hit play. Jack turned up the volume with another remote.

Dinner progressively became more companionable, commentary being offered to the screen until both men were having themselves a laugh. They followed ‘Clue’ with ‘Life of Brian’.

‘His cheeks get pink high in the apples just like Elizabeth’s when he laughs.’ The thought came suddenly and without warning to Jack. It actually made him take a mental step back. Why would he notice such a thing? ‘Well. I’m just observant like that. Probably.’ But that didn’t really sit right with O’Neill. He opened a second beer.

When ‘Life of Brian’ was over, Jack offered Daniel a ride back to his place. He’d offered him the spare room, but it’d been declined. Daniel’s jeep was still on base since they’d come here together, but it wasn’t like the man could exactly drive with his arm like that anyway. They’d have to figure something out over the weekend. And it was just habit that he walked Daniel up to his door. Daniel chided him, but Jack just ignored it.

As they gave their last goodbyes, and Jack was gripping Daniel’s shoulder, Jack again had to take a mental step back. Daniel’s eyes were so really very blue and it wasn’t like Jack hadn’t ever noticed that before, it was just that suddenly…. Suddenly he had to clear his throat and give Daniel a manly shake and then a manly buff on the shoulder. “See ya.”

Rolling on the balls of his feet, Jack and his troubled thoughts watched the numbers as the elevator came up. When it opened, he blinked to find Elizabeth Jackson in the box.

“Jack,” she said, equally as surprised. She looked pink and flushed and just a bit rumpled. What exactly did girls do on a Girl’s Night Out?

“Doctor Jackson.” He gave her a gracious tip of his head as he stepped in and hit the button for the lobby. The elevator was going to keep taking her up to her floor before it would take him down, but he was okay with that. “Have a nice evening?”

“Yeah, thanks. We did chocolate fondue on Cassandra’s suggestion. Bright girl.” She was smiling when she licked her lips and Jack was mesmerized. Daniel did that. Daniel licked his lips just like that between words. “And you guys?”

Jack roughly shoved his hands into his pockets and turned to watch the numbers again. “Good, good. No fondue, but take out and beer worked just as well.” The elevator pinged open on Elizabeth’s floor.

“Well… good. Glad you could — relax.” Using her hand she held the elevator’s door open for a second longer. “Oh, and I’ll see about Daniel’s car and stuff. He can car pool with me until he can drive again.”

“Ah, cool.” Jack did a bit of lip licking himself. Was it hot suddenly? Maybe the AC was down. “I’ll catch you Monday then, Elizabeth.”

“You too, Jack. Night.”

“G’night.”

Jack was dreaming of bright blue eyes and pointed pink tongues licking soft lips, of long eyelashes and round glasses and articulated fingers that sang when they moved through the air. Of bare feet padding on hardwood floors and cornsilk soft honey brown hair.

Except Jack couldn’t have told anyone if it all belonged to Daniel or Elizabeth Jackson. All of it or parts of it, and if parts, which parts. Because he honestly didn’t know. Either made his gut warm when he thought about it that next morning.

So Jack O’Neill decided to do what he did best with troubling situations: he just stopped thinking about it.

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