Bound Reflections
Part 2
-4-
Skidding his truck to an abrupt stop behind Daniel's Jeep, Jack pushed the door open with his foot, vaulted out of the seat and slammed the door behind him. Practically running around the back of his vehicle and heading up the walk to Daniel's front door, he slowed his pace to a fast walk when he saw Mrs. Phillips and her yard man staring at him — she with undisguised suspicion, he with open-mouthed astonishment and maybe a little awe.
Not that Jack could blame Mrs. Phillips, really. He might have been a tad leery himself if a man he barely knew raced his honkin' huge F-350 through the neighborhood, taking corners on two wheels, screeched to a halt in front of his neighbor's house, then leapt out and ran to said neighbor's door.
Not to mention the gunfight and exploding panel truck a few months earlier — all connected to the young man across the fence.
Still.
'Great, just what Daniel needs, another turn as headliner in the neighborhood gossip newsletter.'
Dangling his keys near his ear, Jack put on what he hoped was a friendly smile. "Mornin'."
Mrs. Phillips responded by narrowing her eyes further. The yard man just maintained his stunned guppy impression.
'Yep, we're gonna have to find Daniel a new home.'
Skipping briskly up the front steps, Jack quickly unlocked the door and slipped inside. "Daniel?" he called out even before the door was completely closed.
As he came down the entry hall, Jack inhaled the unmistakable aroma of Daniel's favorite coffee du jour — some Costa Rican blend, of all things.
"You'd think the boy would have had enough of Central America," Jack snorted.
Rounding the corner into the kitchen, he stopped briefly to check out the pot. Half full. Daniel never made less than a full pot of coffee, so, Jack surmised, the younger man had at least been awake long enough to fill his cup a few times.
Continuing through the kitchen, Jack turned down the hall leading toward Daniel's bedroom. "Daniel?"
He stopped in the bedroom doorway, his gaze irrepressibly drawn to the unmade bed, his eyes lingering for longer than it took to ascertain that Daniel was not there. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he took in the sheets, dislodged from their corners and tossed haphazardly by his and Daniel's passionate romp the night before.
Pulling his eyes and his thoughts back to the task at hand, Jack stepped into the bedroom. Immediately, he detected the unmistakable hiss of Daniel's shower.
Moving quickly to the bathroom door, Jack grasped the handle, intending to poke his head in and announce his arrival. Instead he bounced off the door when the knob refused to turn.
"Damn it, Daniel," he muttered, concerned as much as he was irritated.
Following Osiris's invasion of his home — and of his dreams — Daniel had resumed his habit, long dormant, of locking his bathroom door.
Unbidden, a memory from shortly after they had become a couple invaded Jack's consciousness: Jack stomping indignantly around Daniel's bedroom, complaining loudly about his inability to gain access to the bathroom after his attempt to join Daniel in the shower had been thwarted for the third time. Daniel turning glassy eyes on him, muttering a muted apology. Daniel lowering his head and quietly explaining, "Sarah frequently burst in on me when I showered. She'd just throw back the curtain and boldly manhandle me until I responded to her touch, without regard for my willingness to participate. She'd always go down on me then, sucking until I spilled everything I had into her greedy mouth." Daniel shaking, wrapping his arms around himself to disguise the fact. "Sarah insisted that taking me that way would make a man out of me." One slim hand rising to wipe the tears from his cheek. "Ironically, I never felt like a man when she was done. I just..." Daniel drawing a huge, tremulous breath. "The only thing I ever felt... was that I had just been raped."
The burden of Daniel's confession weighing on him again, Jack rested his head against the door and tapped softly.
"Daniel. Babe, it's me. Open up, okay."
Receiving no response, Jack rapped louder, pressing his ear to the door to detect any movement from inside.
"Come on, Daniel. I know you're probably still pissed at me but I need to talk to you."
Hearing nothing but the running water, Jack grew anxious. "Daniel, you alright in there?"
When Daniel still did not answer, Jack felt his heart rate increase apace. Daniel was stubborn, but he wasn't cruel. If he had heard Jack's concerned inquiry, he would have responded.
Jack balled his hand tightly and, using the side of his fist, he pounded hard against the barrier between himself and his lover.
"Daniel! Open the damn door; or, I swear, I'm gonna break it down."
Clutching the doorknob, Jack rattled it firmly. "That's it. I'm comin' in."
Taking two steps back, Jack pulled his arm against his chest, angled his shoulder towards the door jamb and rushed forward. The way was opened to him in a shower of splintered wood and barely noticed pain.
His first instinct was to cough, the combination of heavy steam and lavender scent assaulting his lungs, settling heavily. Beholding the broken bottle and drops of blood, Jack skipped swiftly across the small room, carefully avoiding the mess; and shakily snatched back the shower curtain, expecting to find a bleeding, unconscious archaeologist.
He was greeted instead by an empty shower.
Whirling frantically, Jack glimpsed a smear of blood on the wall near the door.
As he started back towards the bedroom, moving hurriedly around the debris on the floor, Jack's attention was captured by a glint of reflected light, different from that cast by the blue-tinged glass scattered generously around the room. He stooped and gingerly lifted the crumpled remains of Daniel's glasses. Cradling the broken frame against his chest, he allowed himself only a moment to worry what this find might mean for Daniel's well-being before catapulting through the door to search the rest of the house.
Having rapidly inspected every corner and even the backyard for an injured archaeologist, Jack finally admitted defeat. Pulling out his cell phone, he hastily punched the speed dial button programmed with Hammond's direct number, waiting impatiently for his CO to answer.
"Come on, come on." Jack paced in Daniel's living room, every muscle tense. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, but was really only the span of three rings, Hammond's new secretary picked up.
"General Hammond's office," the sergeant, whose name Jack could not remember, answered with a pleasant voice, incongruous in the present circumstance.
"This is Colonel Jack O'Neill. I need to speak with General Hammond immediately."
"I'm sorry, sir. General Hammond is in a meeting with —"
Jack stopped mid-stride. "I don't care if the President himself is in there," he spat angrily. "I need to speak with him. This is an emergency."
A pause. "Yes, sir. Please hold." Her voice was slightly tremulous.
Pounding fretfully on his thigh, Jack resumed his pacing.
"Colonel?" Hammond sounded perturbed.
"General. I'm at Daniel's house. Something's happened."
"Is Dr. Jackson alright?" Perturbation immediately became concern.
"I don't know, sir. He's not here." Jack rubbed at his eyes as the reality of the situation finally hit him. "There are signs of a struggle, and I found some blood..."
"Stay right there, Colonel. I'm sending a team."
"Yes, sir." Jack closed his phone and collapsed on the couch. He pulled Daniel's mangled glasses from his shirt pocket and gazed intently at them, as though he expected them to tell him where their owner was. After a minute, he brought the spectacles to his lips and closed his eyes tightly.
"Damn it, Daniel. Where are you?"
-5-
Some while later, Daniel sat absently pulling on his lip, staring blankly at the wall of his prison, churning through the information he had garnered during his recent encounter with the Goa'uld.
His captor had to be Osiris. But, when the Tok'ra took Sarah, they said they would remove the Goa'uld and destroy him...
Daniel snorted. "And you call yourself a linguist," he muttered in disgust. "Destroy does not necessarily mean kill. Still, there was no reason to suspect the Tok'ra were being anything but straightforward when they said..."
'If it walks like a snake, and talks like a snake...'
"Jack, that is so incredibly not helpful," Daniel snapped at the voice in his head.
Groaning, he pressed trembling fingers into his still pounding temples and pondered his options.
One, he could sit tight and wait for rescue. He quickly discarded that one as not viable since chances were SG-1 had no earthly idea where he was or where to look for him.
Two, in spite of his present incapacity, he could fight his way past the Goa'uld, figure out where the hell he was and make his own way home.
Three, he could stop thinking about this just now because all it was doing was increasing the pain level in his already throbbing head.
Detecting the low rumble that heralded the opening of the door, he gave his forehead one final swipe then reclined casually against the wall and adopted a bored aspect.
"Back again so soon?" Daniel asked glibly as the Goa'uld swept into the room. He was only mildly dismayed when the door closed again. It wasn't as though he had the strength to make a break for it.
The Goa'uld stopped and glared contemptuously at him, his lip curling crookedly. Hardening his ebony eyes, he narrowed their focus, and Daniel half expected twin beams of light to shoot out and bore holes through him. In spite of the Goa'uld's attempt to intimidate him, Daniel's gaze never wavered.
"So, Osiris," he ventured, "found yourself a new host. A very nice one, too." He lifted his hand and gestured toward the Goa'uld's face with a haphazardly tossed finger. "Do you mind if I ask... do you guys look specifically for one with a sneer or is that something you add yourself?"
Osiris's scornful stare morphed into a patronizing grin. "You know who I am," he said flatly, showing no surprise at the revelation.
Absently, Daniel wondered at the identity of the host. Although he was tall and relatively good-looking, as all Goa'uld hosts tended to be, there was nothing else striking about him. Even his voice was indistinct, lacking any vocal inflection which would set him apart from any of a thousand other individuals.
"It really wasn't all that hard to figure out." Daniel shifted forward, noticing a slight pinch as some of the glyphs pulled at his skin.
"Even with your head injury?" Osiris asked with mock-concern.
"Yeah, well, you did your worst with the ribbon device the first time we met, and I'm still here," Daniel said with a confidence he wasn't quite feeling. Truth be told, his head hurt only slightly less than it had following that initial encounter in Egypt. "Better Goa'uld than you have knocked me around." He paused for effect. "Though, none of them has lived long enough to brag about it. I could catalogue them for you again, if you'd like. Of course, the list is longer now."
Osiris simply smiled enigmatically then turned meaningfully towards the door.
Of their own volition, Daniel's eyes followed the Goa'uld's gaze, and he stared, transfixed, when the door began opening as if on some mental command from Osiris. Two Jaffa, both of whom bore the mark of Anubis on their foreheads, entered, and Daniel cursed silently. This was gonna make it so much harder to get out on his own.
"Take him." Osiris flicked a hand in Daniel's direction.
As the Jaffa marched mechanically towards him, Daniel stiffened, his body instinctually preparing for a fight he had no hope of winning.
"Wait a minute, that's not necessary," Daniel protested, raising his hands to ward off their advancement. "These accommodations are fine, really. I don't need another... agh!" He let out a spontaneous cry of pain as the Jaffa grasped his biceps and yanked him roughly to his feet.
Lashing out with his right leg, Daniel felt his heel connect with the Jaffa's knee, a fact he immediately regretted when he was slammed back against the hard, gold wall, and several of the glyphs scored deep lines in his unprotected flesh.
The Jaffa marched him from the room and down the hall at such a pace that he had difficulty keeping his injured leg in step, ending up more or less hopping along supported on either side by the bruising grip on his arms. Gasping at the sharp pain in his feet, Daniel glanced over his shoulder, grinning with irrational satisfaction at the messy, bloody trail he was leaving on Osiris's shiny clean floor.
The longer they walked, the more difficult the journey became. Daniel's lungs worked furiously to pull in enough oxygen to meet the demand of his strained muscles, which complained loudly at the additional abuse they were suffering. Between labored inhalations, Daniel muttered barely audible curses, while continuing to tug at the hold on his arms.
Turning the corner, they entered another room, this one brightly lit, and Daniel's eyes reflexively squeezed shut against the painful brilliance — but not before he had seen what looked like an examination table in the center of the room.
Daniel dug in his heels, the resultant sudden jolt sending aching torment into his already distressed hip. The move was wasted; the Jaffa lifted him from his feet and carried him the remaining distance to the foot of the table. Turning, they pulled him backward so that he briefly sat on the table, before pushing him down towards its cold, unforgiving surface.
Kicking with his good leg and wriggling with every ounce of strength he had left, Daniel nevertheless, soon found himself flat on his back. He raised his arms to push the Jaffa away, but they easily caught his flailing hands. One of them held his chained wrists against his body while the other wound a strap over his hips. Together, they forced his hands under the strap and pulled it tight.
Daniel continued to fight, but in a matter of seconds he was tied down with additional straps across his chest, knees and ankles. He growled, the vocalization a mixture of discomfort and frustration.
Once he was securely bound, the Jaffa stepped back, standing at attention to either side of the table just above Daniel's head.
Straining mightily, Daniel vainly pushed against the ties, strained grunts escaping with the effort. After only a minute, thoroughly exhausted by his struggle, he stilled, drawing in rapid, shallow breaths. In spite of his more pressing concerns, he became insanely aware of the perspiration that rolled, tickling its way down his torso to collect in tiny puddles beneath him.
Movement in his peripheral line of sight drew his attention to the door and his preoccupation was instantly forgotten.
Osiris strode regally across the room. He gestured to one of the Jaffa, who walked obediently to his master and stopped before him, bowing deeply. Gazing appreciatively at the strong body as the Jaffa righted himself, Osiris lifted a casual hand and, barely touching the skin, ran it down the front of the Jaffa from his shoulder to the symbiote pouch. He paused, cutting suddenly amused eyes to his captive's.
Though he feared his worst nightmare was about to become reality, still Daniel resolutely kept himself from reacting to the look of charming malice which passed over Osiris's features. As the Goa'uld again turned his attention to the Jaffa, Daniel closed his eyes briefly and silently vowed to fight the symbiote he anticipated would soon invade his brain. 'I won't let it take me, Jack,' he pledged, knowing full well that everything they understood about Goa'uld possession suggested he would not prevail.
Heart pounding in his throat, Daniel watched with morbid fascination as Osiris plunged his previously teasing fingers into the X-shaped opening. Snatching the hand back, the Goa'uld raised it to display the screeching, twisting symbiote, held tightly in his fist.
"No," Daniel choked, renewing his efforts to free himself. "Son of a bitch!"
Smiling with mock-benevolence, Osiris stepped to the table and gazed engagingly down on his captive. "Soon, the torments of this frail body will be a distant memory," he proclaimed, fingering the wound on Daniel's scalp.
Daniel flinched and jerked his head away. "Damn you, don't touch me!"
Casually withdrawing his hand, Osiris considered Daniel's defiant manner. "It will be a shame to quash that magnificent spirit," he conceded, "but you will retain all of your knowledge, your memories —"
Daniel's head whirled back, his eyes alight with fury. "I told you I don't know where the Lost City is!" he bellowed. "I can't recall any of my ascended knowledge. What makes you think putting a snake in my head will change that?" Daniel thumped his head back on the table, heedless of the pain the action caused, and turned away, refusing Osiris the satisfaction of watching his reaction to the symbiote's possession. His lungs heaved with the strain of his emotions and forcibly suppressed panic.
Just when Daniel thought he'd scream from the anticipatory tension, his skin was peppered with sticky wetness. Shuddering reflexively, he lifted his head and stared dumbly at the droplets of moisture on his chest. Cutting his eyes to the Goa'uld, his brows gathered in confusion at finding Osiris's hand, sans symbiote, hovering over him, the fingers still dripping mucus. He tipped his head back, catching just a glimpse of the Jaffa as he pivoted away from Osiris and returned to his post at the head of the exam table.
A soft caress on his shoulder brought his head back around and Daniel gasped softly, his knotted brow tightening in consternation as Osiris loomed over him, lips upturned slightly, gazing at him not in triumph but in... desire?
'Oh, shit.'
Gazing with undisguised lust into his captive's face, Osiris squeezed Daniel's shoulder with bruising force. Sliding his fingers over the restraint holding Daniel's upper body to the table, he ghosted them over Daniel's chest and downward, resting them possessively on the enticing abdomen.
Daniel quivered involuntarily as Osiris's caress made its way south. Instinctively cupping his bound hands over his groin, he fought to conceal his panic. 'This can not be happening!' he shouted in his head.
Osiris's fingers clasped his shielding hands and Daniel tensed. The fingers brushed his pajamas, teasing the flesh beneath, then retreated, rubbing intimately over his pectorals. With a muffled groan, Daniel released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"My, you are fit, aren't you?" the Goa'uld observed. "Dear Sarah shared her memories of you with me and, of course, very recently I was fortunate enough to view your impressive biceps first hand but," Osiris sighed wistfully, "Sarah's memories do not do you justice."
"Yeah, well, I was a student then," Daniel bit sardonically, cutting his eyes away from the Goa'uld's reactions to his tactile survey. "I didn't have time to work out, you know, like I do now." Daniel rolled his eyes at the surrealistic absurdity of discussing his exercise schedule with the man who, for all intents and purposes, was molesting him.
"It is time well spent." Without stilling his hand's exploration of Daniel's torso, Osiris turned to the Jaffa, nearest him. "Jaffa, kree!" he barked, his unoccupied hand twitching in the direction of a counter across the room.
The Jaffa inclined his head, and stomped to the counter to retrieve a garishly decorated box. He came back to Osiris, presenting the opened box with another grand bow. At a silent signal from Osiris, the Jaffa and his partner bent reverently and left the Goa'uld alone with his prisoner.
As Osiris turned back to him wielding the healing device, Daniel relaxed slightly, relieved that, at least for the time being, it appeared the Goa'uld would be occupied by an activity other than abusing him.
Obviously detecting the change in Daniel's posture, Osiris's adoring visage took on a domineering hardness. He lowered the healing device.
"Before you get any ideas that my decision to forestall implantation of the symbiote signifies a change of heart regarding my ultimate plans for you, you should know that nothing you say or do will alter the fact that one day, soon, you will become one of us. And, despite your brave assertions to the contrary, we will gain access to your Ancient knowledge."
Keeping check on his instinct to shout full-voiced denials of the Goa'uld's declaration, Daniel opted to conserve his energy for a time when he might utilize it to his best advantage. He did, however, expend enough to grit his teeth when Osiris resumed the gentle kneading of his chest muscles. Though he could not ignore the touch, Daniel pointedly disregarded the man who was doing the touching — until the Goa'uld spoke again.
"In the meantime," Osiris murmured breathily, his voice suddenly acquiring a British accent marked by an all too familiar lilt, "touching you has awakened certain... feelings, which I intend to explore further." Raking his bottom lip with his teeth, the Goa'uld stared lustfully into his captive's startled eyes, sneering exultantly when Daniel's face paled.
"You are mine, Daniel," Osiris growled, eerily echoing dream Sarah's claim, "to do with as I please, for as long as I please."
Osiris's fingers closed over a pert, pink nipple. Daniel gasped and jerked, his eyes narrowing into an angry glare.
Smiling smugly, Osiris grazed solicitous eyes over his prisoner's blood-soaked hair, his expression softening. "Mmmm, that is a rather nasty head wound." Osiris raised the healing device over Daniel's injured temple, his other hand still fondling the archaeologist. "I can't have you passing out on me. That would spoil so many of my plans..."
As the Goa'uld activated the healing device, Daniel wearily closed his eyes and vehemently shut out Osiris's exultant muttering.
Leaving the room, Osiris turned and gazed upon his captive's unconscious form until the heavy metal door hid the man from view.
"Alert me when the cargo ship arrives," he snarled at the Jaffa standing on either side of the door. "I will be in my chambers."
Without waiting for a response, Osiris spun on his heel and stalked through the corridor. He was halfway to his destination when another Jaffa stopped him.
"My lord," the man greeted, bowing deeply. "We have received coordinates from Anubis's ship. We are to rendezvous at Anat."
Acknowledging the information with a curt nod, Osiris walked away from the Jaffa and quickly made his way to his quarters.
Dismissing his lo'tar with a silent sweep of his hand, he collapsed gracefully into an ornate chair, throwing his head back to study the ceiling.
Inhaling slowly, he considered his decision to postpone Daniel Jackson's implantation. The information he held of Earth and its allies would be invaluable to Osiris's master, Anubis. Yet even as he was reminded of his duty to his lord, the memory of his unexpected reaction to Daniel's bound form permeated his thoughts.
Contemplating the restrained figure, admiring the man's reckless audacity even in the face of his destruction, his eyes had lingered on the prisoner's chest, swelling and collapsing with his increased respirations.
A flush of warmth pervaded his body, and Osiris closed his eyes, unable to resist, and let the sensation wash over him again as scenes from a past that was not his own flooded his mind: lithe hands grasping slim hips, briefly holding them with bruising fervor before sliding hungrily across water slick skin to a flaccid penis, roughly kneading, compelling it to rigidity; those same hands pulling tight the silky ends of an impromptu fetter around a strong ankle, the vision following the conveniently placed guide, wandering up the pleasingly muscled leg, over a familiar slim hip, skimming over the same heaving chest he had just appreciated, settling finally on vivid blue eyes, opened wide in alarm as another scarf neared them...
Sarah's memory evaporated and Osiris shuddered, running his tongue around his suddenly dry mouth.
Anubis had freed him from the torment the Tok'ra had planned for him. And his sole aim in returning to his cloaked al'kesh had been capturing this Tau'ri at the bidding of his lord. Yet now that he had experienced first hand the physical thrill of Daniel Jackson's presence — something he had only felt vicariously through Sarah's memories — Osiris wondered whether he could release his prize even to the more powerful Goa'uld.
Brought out of his thoughts by the low rumble of a softly cleared throat, Osiris turned hazy eyes on his lo'tar.
Coming to his knee, the young man dipped his head reverentially.
"Forgive me, lord," he said quietly. "I am informed that your tel'tac approaches."
"Convey my orders that the prisoner is to be moved aboard as soon as the ship is in transport range."
Sparing barely a glance at his lo'tar, who got hurriedly to his feet and scampered off to deliver the message, Osiris stood, a haughty grin pulling at his lips.
"A day, at least," he muttered. "That is how long you shall be in my company before we meet with Anubis." As Daniel's semi-naked form writhed before his mind's eye, Osiris's grin turned lecherous. "I'll have to find some way to keep you amused until then."
-6-
Resting his hip against the kitchen counter, Jack scowled darkly at the forensics squad scanning Daniel's living room for listening devices. 'This is a waste of time,' he growled internally. 'I checked for bugs last night.'
Jack sighed, reluctantly acknowledging that his ire was unwarranted. It wasn't their fault that he couldn't readily admit the previous search. The search itself might not be considered suspicious, given the confidential nature of their jobs. Still, he couldn't risk someone ultimately figuring out that his exploration had really been a precautionary measure designed to ensure that his and Daniel's relationship was not exposed. Especially since there was nothing to be gained by his confession.
A brawny staff sergeant sauntered around the corner and reached for the kitchen phone mounted on the wall just inside the doorway. Jack turned his squinty glare on the large intruder, and the younger man froze, his hand suspended in mid-air. Startled slightly by the reaction, Jack consciously rearranged his features to a more neutral guise and waved the sergeant in.
"Sorry, sir, I ..." Grinning vaguely, the young man gestured to the device.
"Knock yourself out," Jack invited unenthusiastically. Shoving himself away from the counter, he lurched to the exit, barely clearing the space not already occupied by the other's bulk.
Stepping into the hallway, Jack found his attention drawn to a flash of daylight at the front door. He signaled to General Hammond as his commander crossed the threshold, Dr. Janet Fraiser in tow, and hurried to meet them. Cursing, he pulled up short, gritting his teeth in annoyance behind the leader of the forensics team, Major... someone, who got to the general first.
"...nothing so far," the major said, almost apologetically as Jack approached.
"Thank you, Major. Proceed with your investigation. Let me know immediately if you find anything."
"Yes, sir," the major threw off a snappy salute and went back to work.
Hammond turned to his 2IC. "Colonel O'Neill."
"General. Doc." Jack nodded amiably to Dr. Fraiser, the base CMO, who returned his greeting with a wan smile.
"Where are Major Carter and Teal'c?" Hammond asked, glancing around for the personnel in question.
"Back that way," Jack replied, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. Filing in behind the general and the petite doctor, he added, "Carter's watching over the team collecting evidence in the bathroom. Teal'c's... helping."
In actuality, Teal'c was safeguarding his and Daniel's privacy. Unbidden, the Jaffa had positioned himself next to Daniel's bed, seemingly blending into the decor, keeping a close watch on all the activity.
Not that Jack expected it was necessary. He had taken care of any evidence of his and Daniel's union immediately after he'd hung up from talking to the general. Mechanically gathering up the sheets stained with the evidence of their lovemaking, he'd rolled them up tightly and sealed them in a dry cleaning bag. Having noticed Mrs. Phillips take off on some errand or other while he was searching for Daniel in the back yard, he took advantage of the busybody's absence to stow the sheets in the backseat of his truck — together with the lube, condoms and framed photo of the two of them that usually sat on Daniel's dresser — before the first team had arrived.
Knowing that Daniel made a point of changing the bedding every time he stayed over, Jack had hunted down the sheets Daniel removed the day before — sheets that would have only Daniel's hair, skin and bodily fluids on them. Locating them in a basket by the washer, he'd silently replaced them on the bed, mentally beating back the accusations of betrayal that kept creeping into his mind.
Jack had felt like a coward, skulking around Daniel's house, checking for any hint of his occupancy, but he'd told himself firmly it was for Daniel's protection and not his own. Daniel would never forgive himself if Jack was court martialed with evidence gathered while the Air Force was investigating Daniel's disappearance. As crazy as it sounded, Daniel would blame himself for being kidnapped in the first place.
As the trio entered the bedroom, Teal'c stepped away from his post inclining his head to them. Carter, who was standing in the doorway between the bedroom and master bathroom, launched herself from the doorjamb and skittered over to the group.
"Major, what have you found?" Hammond queried, wasting no time on customary greetings.
"It looks like Daniel was attacked in his bathroom. There's quite a mess in there. Pieces of broken glass, some blood."
Carter led the procession back to the bathroom. "There's not a lot, but obviously Daniel was injured or, hopefully, injured his assailant, before he was taken."
"Any idea who took him?" Hammond's expression suggested that he wouldn't be surprised to learn she had already puzzled it out.
Shaking her head, Carter replied soberly, "We don't have any answers yet, sir, just questions." Becoming more animated, she elaborated. "For instance, Colonel O'Neill said that when he arrived the shower was running and the door was locked from the inside. But when he broke in, there was no one in the room. Which begs the question 'how did they get out'?"
"Couldn't the kidnapper have locked and closed the door after he removed Dr. Jackson?"
Carter shrugged. "To what end? To slow down the discovery of his disappearance? It just doesn't make sense."
"Well, neither does vanishing from a locked room, but it sounds like that's what's happened," Fraiser interjected.
"Which means we are likely dealing with an alien abduction," Carter deduced.
Hammond shook his head. "Let's not jump to conclusions. We still need to investigate other possibilities. I suspect there are quite a few people here on Earth who wouldn't mind getting their hands on Dr. Jackson — the NID, or one of their rogue agents, former operatives for the Committee, or some other group we're not even aware of yet. Hell, even Kinsey's not above suspicion on this."
'Well, I can think of someone here on Earth who'd better not have her damn hands on him.' Only Daniel, who knew Jack better than Jack knew himself, would have suspected that, under the colonel's calm veneer, a murderous aspect waited for a private moment to show itself.
Suddenly, Janet Fraiser gasped, the color draining from her face.
"Janet?" Sam grasped her stricken friend's arm, evidently fearful that she might collapse on the bedroom floor.
"Oh, Sam, I just had a terrible thought." Janet turned eyes huge with dread on the group. "What if he's ascended... was ascended? Could they do that... the Others? Ascend him against his will?"
Feeling his heart stop for just a second at the notion, Jack pulled a slightly shaky breath. "Why would they do that?" He didn't even try to mask his anger.
"Revenge?" Carter hesitantly offered. "We suspect Oma sent him back before the Others could punish him for his interference on Abydos."
The silence which followed in the bedroom, only served to emphasize the small noises of the investigative team in the adjoining bathroom.
"We don't know anything for sure," Hammond said, his even tone designed to infuse some calm into the turmoil their speculations had provoked. "Major, why don't you start making a list of all potential suspects? We can check on the movements of any Earth-bound groups while we're waiting for the forensics evidence."
"Yes, sir," Sam replied. It was little more than busy-work, but the major seemed grateful nonetheless for something constructive to do in the investigation.
As Sam went in search of a writing pad in Daniel's study, Janet walked over to the bathroom, intending to offer her assistance to the team.
Since all eyes were focused on the general, no one noticed the look of anxiety that passed over the colonel's face. Quickly schooling his features, Jack waited with forced patience for an assignment from his CO.
When Hammond didn't suggest a specific activity, choosing instead to silently study his 2IC, Jack cocked his head in the direction of the living room.
"Why don't I go see what those guys are up to out there?" he proposed, needing more than anything to escape the scrutiny of Hammond's intense blue eyes.
"Very well, Colonel," Hammond agreed.
The words were barely out of the general's mouth when Jack turned and walked briskly from the room.
Teal'c raised a troubled brow in the direction of his friend's quickly retreating hunched back. Tipping his head, he found General Hammond also staring after O'Neill, his stately features displaying some degree of concern. Hammond turned and shot him a barely perceptible nod. Bowing in response to the dismissal, Teal'c followed after his team leader.
Dogging O'Neill's footsteps, Teal'c found it necessary to lengthen his stride in order to keep his friend in view. He followed O'Neill around the corner into the kitchen, arriving just in time to observe the sliding glass door in the adjacent dining room close with a resolute thump, an unmistakable hint that O'Neill wanted to be alone.
But Teal'c suspected O'Neill was not alone. Like the Jaffa himself, O'Neill had myriad demons with which to pass the time of day — Guilt, Regret, Impotence against threats to his loved ones, to name but a few — any or all of which were likely even now shouting imprecations in the man's head.
Frowning deeply, Teal'c stood just inside the glass door and watched his friend pace Daniel Jackson's back patio. On his third pass, O'Neill paused by the wrought iron table and, brushing aside brightly colored leaves just turning brown at the edges, ran his fingers thoughtfully along the rim of the glass top. Sliding the door open, Teal'c quietly stepped outside and without turning, pulled the door closed behind him.
O'Neill's head shot up. "Go away, T," he said firmly, returning his gaze to the table.
"I do not believe that would be advisable, O'Neill." Teal'c took a few steps towards his comrade, who stiffened then relaxed under the large hand Teal'c rested on his shoulder.
"Your self recriminations will not aide in the search for Daniel Jackson, nor will they benefit the man himself."
O'Neill splayed his hand on the table. Snatching it up, he scrubbed it roughly against the back of his neck. "Why didn't I just stay and talk to him last night?"
"Daniel Jackson requested that you do so?"
Huffing humorlessly, O'Neill slid his hand up, scraping it quickly through his hair before dropping his arm to his side. "No, as a matter of fact he kicked me out."
"Then your anger is misplaced."
O'Neill shot Teal'c an irritated glance over his shoulder. His mouth dropped open slightly and he tipped his head towards the forensics team on the other side of Daniel's living room window. "There are too many people around, we can't talk here. Come on."
Leading the way along the rough path to the far end of Daniel's back yard, O'Neill halted at the wrought iron bench on a pad made of flat stones in the midst of the small garden sanctuary that O'Neill had designed, and the lovers had planted together. It would be years before the small trees and hedges would shield them from prying eyes but at least here they would not be overheard. O'Neill sat heavily.
Understanding that O'Neill would talk more freely without the open scrutiny of his listener, Teal'c walked around behind the bench and stood at parade rest, his posture relaxed, his hands clasped loosely behind him.
After a minute of silent fidgeting, O'Neill took a huge breath and began speaking.
"I told you that Sarah's been calling Daniel. She only needs to see her shrink once a week now, but apparently she has to talk to Daniel every day, several times a day," O'Neill carped, disgust dripping from every word.
"Daniel Jackson will not decline her request to communicate," Teal'c offered, knowing his part in this exercise was not so much to participate in a discussion but to facilitate O'Neill's need to voice his concerns.
"You know what he's like; he thinks everyone is redeemable." After a beat O'Neill added a barely audible, "Thank God," a clear reminder that without Daniel's faith in him they would be nothing more than microscopic particles stirring in what was left of the Abydonian atmosphere. "Until he met the Goa'uld, he didn't believe that true evil existed. I'm not sure he's convinced yet that human beings, even without snakes, can be just as self-absorbed and harmful."
"You speak still of Sarah Gardner."
"Yeah. There's more history there than you know, T, but that's Daniel's choice, and I'm not going to betray his confidence. I can tell you she did a real number on him when they were together. By his own admission, Daniel was emotionally damaged by the experience."
"Daniel Jackson is not the same person he was then. He is one of the strongest men I know."
O'Neill smiled fondly. "True, he's not that socially backward geek any more. But his basic faith in the goodness of humanity is still amazingly intact, even with everything he's been through. He refuses to believe Sarah has any sort of ulterior motive."
"You are not so charitable."
"Who me? I'm a cynic from the word go."
Teal'c quirked his brow at O'Neill's statement, one he knew to be false. He was intimately aware that O'Neill was not so much a skeptic as an astute judge of character, a trait which had served them well those many years ago when O'Neill had intuitively trusted his life, and those of his teammates, to an alien being, thus saving them all — the alien included.
Believing wholeheartedly in O'Neill's ability to sense Sarah Gardner's true intentions, Teal'c grew uneasy. "Do you believe that Sarah Gardner is complicit in Daniel Jackson's disappearance?"
Glancing over his shoulder at his friend, O'Neill's lips twisted disagreeably. "I got nothin' but a real dislike for the woman. And a feeling that she wants Daniel for herself." Agitation shot him to his feet, one of which began kicking at the edges of the stone beneath it.
"Your belief she is obsessed..."
"Yeah. I know Carter's thinking Daniel was taken by a Goa'uld using an Asgard beam or some similar ripped-off technology and, as much as I hate to think about it, that's certainly a possibility."
He wrapped his arms around himself, Daniel-like and turned to face Teal'c, his worried gaze locking with the Jaffa's. "But what Carter doesn't know, and what Sarah may remember, is that Daniel locks the bathroom door when he's taking a shower."
Teal'c's brow rose, his discernment of O'Neill's suggestion clear in the intensity of his deep brown eyes. "Sarah Gardner also retains the memories of Osiris, including our knowledge that Osiris possessed Asgard beaming technology."
O'Neill nodded, manifestly grateful that Teal'c had caught on to his train of thought. "She very well could have hired someone to kidnap Daniel, telling them to lock that door behind them. We spend our time looking for a Goa'uld, meanwhile she's got Daniel hidden somewhere..."
Face contorting, O'Neill clutched at the front of his shirt as though tight bands constricted his chest. He took off at a run back towards the house, leaving the path just short of the patio, and heading towards the street.
"Colonel O'Neill!"
O'Neill halted his momentum so quickly that he nearly fell when his heel slipped in the grass. One of the techs who had been collecting evidence in Daniel's house jogged up to him, and O'Neill's hands clenched in frustration.
"We're about through here, sir," the kid said. "General Hammond wants you to meet him back at the base."
"Damn," O'Neill muttered as Teal'c walked up behind them. "Thank you, son," he nodded, dismissing the tech.
"Come on, T," O'Neill said, slowly opening his hands and stretching his fingers. "We're heading back to the mountain. I guess Sarah's gonna have to wait."
