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Let's cancel the war in Iraq, and send all our troops and the money being spent there to help in Thailand, India, Indonesia, and so forth.
There's plenty of money to help these people.
There's plenty of money to help these people.
Dec. 28th, 2004
The Walls of Jericho - 13 (from part 1 here)
by Icarus
Daniel jogged back the way he came, golden torches reflected on glossy black streets.
He now had an insight into how they'd been created, could almost see the molten lava poured like asphalt, controlled by unknown forces. He took several wrong turns, but managed to convince the wary aliens to point him in the direction of the main dining hall where he was sure to find SG-1.
As he approached the darkened hall, he winced and felt a surge of conscience. He was after all, the cultural expert for this mission, and he'd just abandoned them to fend for themselves on their first important contact. But it was only a dinner, and frankly he and Jack might have killed each other with the steak knives. Which would have made an impression, but probably not the one they wanted.
It was unnaturally quiet outside the hall, and even before Daniel poked his head around the curtain he knew everyone was gone. That was a short dinner. He thought of the Powerbars in his pack and made his way back to their quarters. The lights shone from Jack's room.
"Hey you guys, you won't believe this --" Daniel said pushing the curtain open, and stopped.
Jack was sitting on the bed, arm wrapped around his knee, his head buried in the crook of his elbow. Sam leaned against the wall, dispirited, and just beyond them Teal'c sat in a chair, elbows leaned on his lap and shoulders slightly slumped.
Teal'c and Sam looked up with heavy eyes as Daniel let the curtain drop.
Jack didn't, nor did he make a single sarcastic comment; no gee, thanks for joining us, or where've you been. Instead he rubbed his forehead with his fist as if he wanted to sink the knuckles into his brain. With a loud sigh he hung his head.
This was bad. Very bad.
"What happened?" Daniel ventured carefully, chewing his lip.
"Oh, they were polite," Jack sighed. He finally looked up with a pained expression. "They're having a few… technical difficulties with their caves."
Sam looked away. Teal'c did not. "You were most unpleasant, Colonel O'Neill."
"I did the best that I could," Jack said, sounding resigned as he hung his head again.
Sam's eyes widened and she rolled her eyes, looking everywhere in the room except at her commander; which said it all really.
Jack rubbed his face and continued with a gesture, "They say a lava flow has blocked the entrance to the lower caverns, and that it will delay any access for the next several days."
"They're lying. They have complete control of--"
"We figured that. It's just their way of saying no."
"No, you don't understand. They have complete control of the lava. They can shape it like clay or beeswax, it's simply amazing. This kid just… made this thing, right in front of me." He was met with blank looks, so he tried again. "This place didn't take centuries to build. Based on what I saw they could've done it in weeks, months, or I dunno -- but a very short amount of time."
"Are you telling me that these people are more advanced than us?" Jack squinted at him. "I thought this was a primitive civilization."
Sam perked up, interested. "Not necessarily, sir. This is a completely alien society. They may be primitive, but with a totally different form of technology. There's probably no basis for comparison."
Jack still had an expression hovering between pained and confused, so Sam took a breath. "Something that's every day and not particularly advanced for this form of technology may seem extraordinary to us."
"Oh, it's every day all right." Daniel tipped his head. "The kid was playing with lava like it was a Leggo set."
"It's similar to the way our technology is vastly different from the Asgard: even though they're way ahead of us, it's still useful to them."
"So primitive, but not primitive."
"In a manner of speaking sir."
"Meaning, we need them more than we did two hours ago."
"Yes sir, quite possibly."
Jack dropped his head to his hands, then ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up more than usual. He let out a breath. "Okay. In the morning we make nice with these oh-so-polite aliens, apologize, hop on one leg while chewing bubblegum or whatever it is they want us to do. Then we find out more about how they work this lava stuff. Daniel," Jack looked up. "I want you to handle the communications from here on out. They, uh… they don't like me very much. And I can't say I blame them."
More Jack/Daniel soon, I promise. Also, WG has requested that I finish this story today.
Part 14 is up.
by Icarus
Daniel jogged back the way he came, golden torches reflected on glossy black streets.
He now had an insight into how they'd been created, could almost see the molten lava poured like asphalt, controlled by unknown forces. He took several wrong turns, but managed to convince the wary aliens to point him in the direction of the main dining hall where he was sure to find SG-1.
As he approached the darkened hall, he winced and felt a surge of conscience. He was after all, the cultural expert for this mission, and he'd just abandoned them to fend for themselves on their first important contact. But it was only a dinner, and frankly he and Jack might have killed each other with the steak knives. Which would have made an impression, but probably not the one they wanted.
It was unnaturally quiet outside the hall, and even before Daniel poked his head around the curtain he knew everyone was gone. That was a short dinner. He thought of the Powerbars in his pack and made his way back to their quarters. The lights shone from Jack's room.
"Hey you guys, you won't believe this --" Daniel said pushing the curtain open, and stopped.
Jack was sitting on the bed, arm wrapped around his knee, his head buried in the crook of his elbow. Sam leaned against the wall, dispirited, and just beyond them Teal'c sat in a chair, elbows leaned on his lap and shoulders slightly slumped.
Teal'c and Sam looked up with heavy eyes as Daniel let the curtain drop.
Jack didn't, nor did he make a single sarcastic comment; no gee, thanks for joining us, or where've you been. Instead he rubbed his forehead with his fist as if he wanted to sink the knuckles into his brain. With a loud sigh he hung his head.
This was bad. Very bad.
"What happened?" Daniel ventured carefully, chewing his lip.
"Oh, they were polite," Jack sighed. He finally looked up with a pained expression. "They're having a few… technical difficulties with their caves."
Sam looked away. Teal'c did not. "You were most unpleasant, Colonel O'Neill."
"I did the best that I could," Jack said, sounding resigned as he hung his head again.
Sam's eyes widened and she rolled her eyes, looking everywhere in the room except at her commander; which said it all really.
Jack rubbed his face and continued with a gesture, "They say a lava flow has blocked the entrance to the lower caverns, and that it will delay any access for the next several days."
"They're lying. They have complete control of--"
"We figured that. It's just their way of saying no."
"No, you don't understand. They have complete control of the lava. They can shape it like clay or beeswax, it's simply amazing. This kid just… made this thing, right in front of me." He was met with blank looks, so he tried again. "This place didn't take centuries to build. Based on what I saw they could've done it in weeks, months, or I dunno -- but a very short amount of time."
"Are you telling me that these people are more advanced than us?" Jack squinted at him. "I thought this was a primitive civilization."
Sam perked up, interested. "Not necessarily, sir. This is a completely alien society. They may be primitive, but with a totally different form of technology. There's probably no basis for comparison."
Jack still had an expression hovering between pained and confused, so Sam took a breath. "Something that's every day and not particularly advanced for this form of technology may seem extraordinary to us."
"Oh, it's every day all right." Daniel tipped his head. "The kid was playing with lava like it was a Leggo set."
"It's similar to the way our technology is vastly different from the Asgard: even though they're way ahead of us, it's still useful to them."
"So primitive, but not primitive."
"In a manner of speaking sir."
"Meaning, we need them more than we did two hours ago."
"Yes sir, quite possibly."
Jack dropped his head to his hands, then ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up more than usual. He let out a breath. "Okay. In the morning we make nice with these oh-so-polite aliens, apologize, hop on one leg while chewing bubblegum or whatever it is they want us to do. Then we find out more about how they work this lava stuff. Daniel," Jack looked up. "I want you to handle the communications from here on out. They, uh… they don't like me very much. And I can't say I blame them."
More Jack/Daniel soon, I promise. Also, WG has requested that I finish this story today.
Part 14 is up.
The Walls of Jericho - 14 (from part 1 here)
by Icarus
Daniel hesitated in the entryway and was about to leave with the rest of the team.
"Um. Daniel…?" Jack began, cringing.
"Yeah." Daniel looked at the ground.
"About the --"
"Yeah. It was…"
"… over the line…"
"…way over. I mean, I was…" Daniel tipped his head and huffed a breath, "…whew."
"So…"
"Yeah."
"We're good?"
"Yeah. It, uh, cancels," Daniel made a vague gesture of two waves coming together, "you know."
"Oh, okay. Good."
Daniel hesitated, then said, his shoulders sagging, "I just meant eventually. Not - not now. You retired once, right?"
"Yep," Jack said, flat and noncommittal.
Daniel patted the wall as he left. Jack laced his hands behind his neck and leaned back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He decided the room was too big for one person, and he should've shared with Teal'c.
Part 15 is here. More Jack/Daniel.
by Icarus
Daniel hesitated in the entryway and was about to leave with the rest of the team.
"Um. Daniel…?" Jack began, cringing.
"Yeah." Daniel looked at the ground.
"About the --"
"Yeah. It was…"
"… over the line…"
"…way over. I mean, I was…" Daniel tipped his head and huffed a breath, "…whew."
"So…"
"Yeah."
"We're good?"
"Yeah. It, uh, cancels," Daniel made a vague gesture of two waves coming together, "you know."
"Oh, okay. Good."
Daniel hesitated, then said, his shoulders sagging, "I just meant eventually. Not - not now. You retired once, right?"
"Yep," Jack said, flat and noncommittal.
Daniel patted the wall as he left. Jack laced his hands behind his neck and leaned back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He decided the room was too big for one person, and he should've shared with Teal'c.
Part 15 is here. More Jack/Daniel.
The Walls of Jericho - 15 (from part 1 here)
by Icarus
It was first thing in the morning when Jack really appreciated those warm floors. If you got up to take a leak, there was nothing nicer on the bare feet. All they needed was real toilets and a jacuzzi, and these aliens would have clinched the Martha Stewart award.
He pulled the stone door open, only to be blinded by a roomful of lit torches. Steam formed a cloud bank about halfway up from the floor and Jack wafted it away from his face. Standing at the shelf with a full wash basin, vigorously brushing his teeth, was Daniel. Stark naked, unless you counted the towel around his head.
Daniel glanced back at him and spit.
"I wasn't looking," Jack said, looking Daniel up and down. He had thick thighs for a guy, and broad shoulders. But Colorado in the winter did him no good at all: his ass was Ultrabrite white.
"I didn't think you were," Daniel answered. He toweled off his hair, then slung the towel across his shoulders. It was one of those scratchy 'native' ones and Jack winced in sympathy for his abraded skin. "Besides. You've had plenty of chances before now; I doubt it makes any difference."
Well. It was certainly a… unique perspective. Only it did make a difference that he wasn't hiding behind his towel like Olive Oyl knowing… what he knew. Which admittedly wasn't much. But Jack wasn't going to follow the logic of why it made a difference.
Daniel continued to stand there and pulled out his razor. (He did need a shave. Bad.) Jack decided to take the dare and pretend this was the locker room at the SGC. He lined up in front of the toilet (marble hole in the ground; no Martha Stewart points there) and took care off business as Daniel lathered up. He peered over at Daniel, who had ignored him completely.
"Wasn't looking." Jack said it casually.
"Don't care." Daniel answered in the exact same tone.
Jack shook his head, blinking at the strangeness, then fetched his own shaving kit. He stood beside Daniel at the tiny basin in his underwear and washed his face. Daniel edged over slightly. Jack dipped down to rinse off just as Daniel reached to clean his razor.
"Hey!"
"Sorry."
Daniel held up the tiny mirror from his kit and shaved with simple, precise cuts. Once across the left cheek, then rinse with a quick flick. Across the jaw from the ear, rinse. Another tap on the side of the basin. Then the harder corners, under the jaw, near his ear, face stretched in those weird contortions a guy made. Daniel's eyes cut over at him, and Jack's eyebrows flicked up as he remembered to lather up himself.
Nope, this wasn't strange. No shades of bumping around Sarah in the mornings, kissing the top of her head. Or a million different encounters where he was elbow to elbow with some guy, both of them trying to beat the last minutes before check out time. The sweet smell of steam and soap. He could handle this. It was admittedly a little borderline, but fine.
Daniel stretched his neck up like a cat to do under his chin, his skin almost entirely pink and clean. Head to toe. The stroke showed off his tricep to good advantage, and he looked smooth but solid. Meaty, the type that built up easy while Jack had to work his ass off and still stayed stringy. He had a flat stomach and wasn't overbuilt, which always made Jack feel like he was parked next to an M-1 tank. Teal'c looked good, but nope. Not for Jack.
Jack glanced down; he was also clearly one of those guys who just turned blond in the summer.
Jack swallowed and forced his eyes back to shaving. This was not borderline; this was stupid.
He kept his eyes front and center, focused only on his shaving, unwilling to give out that this was not okay. It was exactly what he liked, a guy straight from the showers, freshly washed, shaved, skin pink and warm. Or fresh from a workout -- okay. Stop.
The door on the other side of the room swung open. Daniel scrambled for his towel.
"Oh," Carter averted her eyes. "I'm sorry -- I --"
"Just barge right in, Carter," Jack said, relieved at the interruption.
She stood with her back to them. "I didn't -- you can't knock on these doors."
Jack toweled off his face. "That's alright. It'll make up for all those times I've walked in on you."
"You haven't, sir."
Jack rinsed off his razor. "Not yet."
Part 16 is here.
by Icarus
It was first thing in the morning when Jack really appreciated those warm floors. If you got up to take a leak, there was nothing nicer on the bare feet. All they needed was real toilets and a jacuzzi, and these aliens would have clinched the Martha Stewart award.
He pulled the stone door open, only to be blinded by a roomful of lit torches. Steam formed a cloud bank about halfway up from the floor and Jack wafted it away from his face. Standing at the shelf with a full wash basin, vigorously brushing his teeth, was Daniel. Stark naked, unless you counted the towel around his head.
Daniel glanced back at him and spit.
"I wasn't looking," Jack said, looking Daniel up and down. He had thick thighs for a guy, and broad shoulders. But Colorado in the winter did him no good at all: his ass was Ultrabrite white.
"I didn't think you were," Daniel answered. He toweled off his hair, then slung the towel across his shoulders. It was one of those scratchy 'native' ones and Jack winced in sympathy for his abraded skin. "Besides. You've had plenty of chances before now; I doubt it makes any difference."
Well. It was certainly a… unique perspective. Only it did make a difference that he wasn't hiding behind his towel like Olive Oyl knowing… what he knew. Which admittedly wasn't much. But Jack wasn't going to follow the logic of why it made a difference.
Daniel continued to stand there and pulled out his razor. (He did need a shave. Bad.) Jack decided to take the dare and pretend this was the locker room at the SGC. He lined up in front of the toilet (marble hole in the ground; no Martha Stewart points there) and took care off business as Daniel lathered up. He peered over at Daniel, who had ignored him completely.
"Wasn't looking." Jack said it casually.
"Don't care." Daniel answered in the exact same tone.
Jack shook his head, blinking at the strangeness, then fetched his own shaving kit. He stood beside Daniel at the tiny basin in his underwear and washed his face. Daniel edged over slightly. Jack dipped down to rinse off just as Daniel reached to clean his razor.
"Hey!"
"Sorry."
Daniel held up the tiny mirror from his kit and shaved with simple, precise cuts. Once across the left cheek, then rinse with a quick flick. Across the jaw from the ear, rinse. Another tap on the side of the basin. Then the harder corners, under the jaw, near his ear, face stretched in those weird contortions a guy made. Daniel's eyes cut over at him, and Jack's eyebrows flicked up as he remembered to lather up himself.
Nope, this wasn't strange. No shades of bumping around Sarah in the mornings, kissing the top of her head. Or a million different encounters where he was elbow to elbow with some guy, both of them trying to beat the last minutes before check out time. The sweet smell of steam and soap. He could handle this. It was admittedly a little borderline, but fine.
Daniel stretched his neck up like a cat to do under his chin, his skin almost entirely pink and clean. Head to toe. The stroke showed off his tricep to good advantage, and he looked smooth but solid. Meaty, the type that built up easy while Jack had to work his ass off and still stayed stringy. He had a flat stomach and wasn't overbuilt, which always made Jack feel like he was parked next to an M-1 tank. Teal'c looked good, but nope. Not for Jack.
Jack glanced down; he was also clearly one of those guys who just turned blond in the summer.
Jack swallowed and forced his eyes back to shaving. This was not borderline; this was stupid.
He kept his eyes front and center, focused only on his shaving, unwilling to give out that this was not okay. It was exactly what he liked, a guy straight from the showers, freshly washed, shaved, skin pink and warm. Or fresh from a workout -- okay. Stop.
The door on the other side of the room swung open. Daniel scrambled for his towel.
"Oh," Carter averted her eyes. "I'm sorry -- I --"
"Just barge right in, Carter," Jack said, relieved at the interruption.
She stood with her back to them. "I didn't -- you can't knock on these doors."
Jack toweled off his face. "That's alright. It'll make up for all those times I've walked in on you."
"You haven't, sir."
Jack rinsed off his razor. "Not yet."
Part 16 is here.