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Title: From the Diary of Daniel Jackson - Cold Lazarus
Posted on or about: August 11, 2000
Rating: PG
Pairing: Jack/Daniel, eventually
Word Count: 3352
Summary: For the first time since the original Abydos mission, Daniel can start keeping a Journal again.
It’s two in the afternoon and I’m just waking up, of course I didn’t get home from Jack’s until nearly eight this morning. What an incredibly long night.
Jack and I watched the sun come up from his roof. It was almost four when we went up there. Before that we were talking in his living room. At about three he cried himself to sleep for a while - he only slept for fifteen or twenty minutes or so - not long, but he needed the release.
Jack’s not... demonstrative with his emotions, but after a day like he just had... If he hadn’t had some sort of breakdown, I’d be a hell of a lot more worried.
I hope to god I handled everything... him... okay last night. I wasn’t sure if I should have left the room and let him have his privacy, or if I should have stayed on the couch and ignored it... I couldn’t though. Jack’s always been there for me when I needed someone.
When my nightmares get bad, and we’re confined to a tent that’s more accurately described as a canvas dog house (There’s a reason they call them ‘pup tents’?), there’s no way he can’t notice. I’ve learned to live with that.
I suppose it’s much easier to live with it since Jack doesn’t react negatively to them. To me. I usually find myself waking up with Jack laying right next to me or behind me, rubbing my back or arm or whatever he can reach and saying... kind things to to me. Depending on how rattled I am, sometimes he’ll even rub my back until I fall asleep again.
So when it was his turn, I couldn’t turn away. I had to hope that if he truly wanted his own space, he’d let me know.
He didn’t. He held on to me - *tight*.
I knew back on Abydos that I was one of the few people privileged enough - *trusted* enough - for him to talk about Charlie to. Not that he said much... just that he had out-lived a child, but even then I knew that not many people knew that much. He told me a little more that first night he brought me home after Abydos and from then on out there were little... trickles of information. He’d say something and I wouldn’t quite follow, so I’d ask him to explain before it kicked in that he was talking about Charlie again. Then I wanted to kick *myself* for prying.
Last night I heard things that I suspect no one else in the world, who wasn’t directly involved, heard.
I had no idea he was charged with negligence in Charlie’s death. How cold is that? I can’t imagine someone actually accusing Jack of being responsible for what happened. I know he holds *himself* responsible, but human nature is like that. As bad as he felt about it all already... no wonder he wanted to kill himself. It’s a weird thing, the human psyche. It’s one thing to blame yourself for something that happened, but it’s so much worse when we think someone else agrees with us.
God, that happening and then the Stargate program (and me almost stranding him on another planet) and then Sara leaving him... I guess I’m a little surprised he’s functional at all. He’s lost a lot. A lot more than most people know.
Captain Carter - Sam, she finally told me to just call her Sam - didn’t have any idea. I hated having to be the one to tell her. I don’t know if Jack wanted her to know. I don’t know if he wants anyone at the SGC to find out. He doesn’t want anyone’s pity. It just pisses him off. Anyway, I hate breaking confidences and I’m pretty sure that’s what I did there. I know she would have found out one way or another before the end of the day, but I didn’t know that when I felt cornered into telling her Jack’s personal business.
I wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of the team knew by now that I have nightmares. I don’t think Jack would have said anything to them if it was avoidable, but if he figured it out without me saying anything, they could probably figure it out too.
I don’t think anyone else knows that he has occasional bad dreams too. When he starts tossing around and I go to wake him up, more often than not, the first thing he says is, “Charlie?”.
It’s been almost two years, but it’s still a very, very fresh wound. And it was just split open again with a chain saw.
The timing on this was pretty bad too. If it was going to happen, couldn’t it have happened two weeks ago? When I was still staying at Jack’s? I think it would have been less awkward for Jack if I was still living with him.
When he came back from taking that... thing... back to its planet he had this look in his eyes... I guess I’ve gotten kind of good at reading him. He didn’t want to deal with this alone. He had to go to Sara’s and find out what happened, what his 'double' did, and talk to her about it all. I thought about offering to go with him, but that seemed just a little... intimate? Although I’ve got to wonder what he told her. Yeah, the Stargate’s classified up one side and down the other, but I can’t imagine him going, “Yeah, that was a little weird, but I can’t explain it. It’s classified,” either. He had to tell her something.
So I went back to his place and waited for him. Got him some beer and picked up a few quarts of Chinese that we never ate. I still have the key he gave me when I was staying there, but I’m not anymore, so it didn’t feel right to just waltz back in. It was possible that he wouldn’t want any company, and I didn’t want to put him in the position of having to toss me out. So I waited on the porch.
Sitting out there waiting for him, I wondered if he might not bring her back. But I convinced myself that if they were going to make a go at... getting back together, they’d probably just stay at the house they used to share. So I figured I’d wait until ten or so, I had books in the car, and then leave a note for him to call me if he needed anything.
He was home by six. He said they talked for a while and then some guy named Keith called... I think he was hurt by that. I think maybe they would have tried to get back together if she hadn’t moved on.
Loneliness sucks. Take it from one who knows. I guess in the back of my mind - okay, the front of my mind too - I hope I made a difference last night. He didn’t even try the standard, “I’m fine, you don’t have to stick around” crap he usually does when gets hurt on a mission or something. I guess that’s something.
And he didn’t hold back last night. He talked a lot. About Charlie, about Sara and him splitting up, about why he was willing to die on Abydos. And he cried. And I held him. There’s an interesting feeling of... belonging... when a man as strong and brave and independent as Jack O’Neill breaks down in your arms. I can’t think of anyone he was more likely to show that side of himself too, except maybe Sara. But since she was part of the problem...
I wonder if he cried at Charlie’s funeral. He was... hard when I first met him. He was still dealing with Charlie’s death as an immediate thing and he’d walled himself away from the world. There was so much emotion coming from him last night that I guess I have to believe that he was dealing with more than just a goofed up alien replicating him and then his son.
I think I started talking about what lousy timing this whole thing had...
I’ve moved out of Jack’s house. (Lasted all of 11 days - most of which were spent on the base - before I was back... but still...) I guess he thought it was time too, since he found me a better place than the one downtown.
His story is that an Air Force buddy of his had bought the condo and then right before Apophis came back through the Stargate, and Jack got reactivated, this buddy (who never did get named) was transferred out East. So Jack was asked to rent out the condo.
Jack doesn’t lie well, but since I’m in no position to argue, I couldn’t really call him on it. But no guy I know decorates like this. I mean, it’s nice and all... but the bedspread matches the shower curtain. The dishes are a nice set of stonewear and stainless steel pots with copper bottoms and all the appliances match.
Or maybe I lived out of a couple of suitcases for too long.
Of course there is the matter of some of the stuff in the living room - apparently this friend of his was on the Stargate project when I was first there - I really wish he’d tell me who the guy was - and got into collecting Egyptian art after Jack came back and explained about the people on Abydos. I like it - of course - but there are just some really, really strange coincidences going on here. I found a Jackal and Hound set in one of the bookshelf cabinets. Now, I've gotten pretty good at spotting recreations, and I'm fairly sure this piece is authentic, ancient Egyptian. Where the *hell* would some soldier just "pick up" something like that? Of course, if this was all a set-up of some sort, where would Jack get it? I should stop thinking about it so much. As Jack said when we argued about me taking the place, "Be gracious, say 'thank you' and shut up."
It’s a nice place, though. Big. Really big. I’m sure that if Jack weren’t setting the rent, I’d never be able to afford it.
It gets lonely at night.
I have an appointment with a chimney sweep for next Tuesday. We should be home then - I can see that it’s going to be real hassle to make appointments with this job - so I can at least use the fire place. I like firelight.
I realize I’m not in any position to be skeptical, but it just seems so odd to me that Jack has this ‘friend’ who just happens to have been transferred out of town, who seems to have taken nothing but his extremely personal effects, just as I show up needing... well... everything.
I have to sign out a car or get a driver every night to get to the place, but for the first time since I was eight, I have a place to call “home” on Earth.
Jack and I are getting along a little better now that we aren’t living together, so I suppose this all accomplished what it was designed to, but... It can get lonely. I wonder if Jack ever gets lonely in that house by himself. Probably not. He lived there by himself for a year before I showed up again. He’s probably glad to have his space back. I mean, not that anyone on an active SG team has a lot of time to date, but if we did, it would have been a little awkward for him to try and bring someone home with me there.
I worried at first that he would... avoid me once I was gone. I mean, when I was staying there, we’d go and do stuff together - the museum, the football game, movies, dinner, beers, whatever. Jack’s actually seemed to make it a point to make sure we still get together when we have a few days off. We went to one of those Reservation Casinos last week after we got off duty. I lost $25 in the nickel slot machines, Jack won a couple hundred at the poker table... go figure. I think he expected me to go play cards with him, but to be honest... I don’t really know how to play poker. I mean, I understand the rules, but I can never seem to keep straight what hand beats what. I really don’t want to tell Jack that. He thinks I’m a big enough geek. Besides, Jack says I’d make a lousy poker player, he says people can read my face like a book. But at least we’re still spending time together. I think I was ... 22 the last time I realized I actually had a friend and not someone who was willing to hang around and tolerate me.
Apparently it was Sam who had this brilliant idea to have a house-warming party for me. It was... kind of embarrassing actually. At various times up to ten people standing around the apartment, telling me that I’d done a great job decorating when - at best - all I’d done was move a few things around. Well, that and fill the bookshelves. I put up my diaries and field journals, as well as a few of the books I had replaced when I ordered books for the office. I’ve been trying not to spend half my paycheck ordering books off the internet, but I’m only marginally successful. I like having good old-fashioned paper books around me. I know most of the information is available on-line now, but it’s... not the same.
I have no idea how to be a host. It’s pretty sad. I just kind of faded back and watched Sam take over. She seems pretty good with knowing how to be sure everyone has a drink and all that other stuff that just doesn’t occur to me.
She bought me a plant. I don’t know how she thinks I’m going to keep it alive when I’m home three random days of the week at best and sometimes gone for whole weeks at a time. There’s a little girl living across the hall, maybe I’ll pay her $5 a week and give her a key so she can water it every few days.
Ferretti was something else... he got me a tool box and the basics to go in it - hammer, screwdrivers, picture hangers... Which is kind of a cool idea, all said. It was actually stuff I didn’t have and needed.
Jack... being Jack, bought me a coffee maker. I didn’t even realize I didn’t have one until the first morning I woke up here. It wasn’t a big deal. There’s a coffee shop on the corner. But now I have this coffee maker that does everything but grow the beans - and it matches the rest of the appliances. So I guess maybe some guys do pay attention to stuff like that.
Teal’c made me special kind of mug. We have a pottery shop on the base for when we need to reproduce an artifact or bring a gift to the leader of a fairly technologically undeveloped planet like we did on P7H-129. Anyway, he got permission to use it to make this fairly basic mug and then got the ingredients to make a ceremonial tea - or as close as he and Sam could approximate without going back to Chulak for some of the things he needed. The team came a couple of hours early to help me get some food ready and stuff. When Jack and Sam ran out to buy some beer and wine to go with dinner, Teal’c showed me this ceremony that is done on Chulak (with the mug and the tea) that is supposed to bond a person to their new dwelling. It’s supposed to settle any terok’tar - which I could only translate as ‘bad energy’ between the dwelling and the dweller. Then, before Jack and Sam came back, I showed Teal’c how to play Jackal and Hound. He’s pretty good at strategy games like that. Old games like that are fascinating, it’s like being a part of history. Maybe I should teach Jack to play. It’ll give me something besides chess to beat him at.
Maybe it was just wishful thinking or state of mind or whatever, but I did actually feel better about moving and being an apparent charity case after that ceremony. Jack even commented that I seemed to be more relaxed when he came back. He asked what Teal’c and I had been up to. I just smiled and said nothing. Let him guess. Having a few unanswered questions is good for him.
I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be using a ceremonial mug to drink my coffee from, but I really like it, so I tend to use it a lot. I hope I’m not being insulting.
It’s weird living in a place this nice and knowing it’s mine. That I’m not committing some major faux pas if I leave a wet towel on the bathroom floor or drink out of the milk carton. I have to remind myself that I can put my feet on the couch when I’m reading or watching t.v. (Amazing what a few months of living with Jack did to me. I used to do it without thinking about it. Then he’d get all testy about shoes on the furniture. Now I have to think *to* do it, but I try and remember to take my shoes off all the same.)
Okay, got interupted for a bit there... Jack came over for a while. I guess all of his bravado this morning about how he was okay now, was just that... bravado. He came over with a six pack of beers to say ‘thank you’ for last night. One of these days I’ll get around to telling him I don’t like beer. But in the mean time... I’ll keep them around for when he visits.
I kind of wish he hadn’t felt the need for the pretense. He knows he doesn’t have to thank me. At least I hope he does. If he wants to come over because he doesn’t want to be alone, that’s fine with me. I’d kind of like to think we’re close enough that we don’t need that kind of b.s. between us.
He stayed until he had to go back to the base. Apparently he has to go back and see Dr. Tavish. He’s annoyed. Apparently he’d only been completely dismissed from her service about three weeks ago - and that was going back to the whole Kawalsky thing. Well, the Kawalsky thing, the going Neanderthal thing, the guy you used to work with thinking he was God thing... I guess it all adds up...
I’ll call and check on him later tonight. Maybe we’ll go for pizza or go to O’Malley’s for a drink or something. We don’t have to report for duty again until the day after tomorrow and I think Jack will want the distraction. And I want the company.
I guess I’ll work on the translation of the Ancient Greek scrolls SG-7 wanted me to have a look at until then. Oh yeah, I convinced the Air Force to get me a computer for home. I thought they’d give me something out of a store room that was antiquated before I went to Abydos, but they told me to go ahead and order one and the software that would let me do what I needed to do. Kind of like they let me get whatever books I wanted when I first got back. I don’t deliberately push it, but I do have to wonder where the limit is. So far, everything I’ve asked for, I’ve gotten. And without a 50 page grant proposal. Okay, so maybe the military does have a few advantages over academic life.
Posted on or about: August 11, 2000
Rating: PG
Pairing: Jack/Daniel, eventually
Word Count: 3352
Summary: For the first time since the original Abydos mission, Daniel can start keeping a Journal again.
It’s two in the afternoon and I’m just waking up, of course I didn’t get home from Jack’s until nearly eight this morning. What an incredibly long night.
Jack and I watched the sun come up from his roof. It was almost four when we went up there. Before that we were talking in his living room. At about three he cried himself to sleep for a while - he only slept for fifteen or twenty minutes or so - not long, but he needed the release.
Jack’s not... demonstrative with his emotions, but after a day like he just had... If he hadn’t had some sort of breakdown, I’d be a hell of a lot more worried.
I hope to god I handled everything... him... okay last night. I wasn’t sure if I should have left the room and let him have his privacy, or if I should have stayed on the couch and ignored it... I couldn’t though. Jack’s always been there for me when I needed someone.
When my nightmares get bad, and we’re confined to a tent that’s more accurately described as a canvas dog house (There’s a reason they call them ‘pup tents’?), there’s no way he can’t notice. I’ve learned to live with that.
I suppose it’s much easier to live with it since Jack doesn’t react negatively to them. To me. I usually find myself waking up with Jack laying right next to me or behind me, rubbing my back or arm or whatever he can reach and saying... kind things to to me. Depending on how rattled I am, sometimes he’ll even rub my back until I fall asleep again.
So when it was his turn, I couldn’t turn away. I had to hope that if he truly wanted his own space, he’d let me know.
He didn’t. He held on to me - *tight*.
I knew back on Abydos that I was one of the few people privileged enough - *trusted* enough - for him to talk about Charlie to. Not that he said much... just that he had out-lived a child, but even then I knew that not many people knew that much. He told me a little more that first night he brought me home after Abydos and from then on out there were little... trickles of information. He’d say something and I wouldn’t quite follow, so I’d ask him to explain before it kicked in that he was talking about Charlie again. Then I wanted to kick *myself* for prying.
Last night I heard things that I suspect no one else in the world, who wasn’t directly involved, heard.
I had no idea he was charged with negligence in Charlie’s death. How cold is that? I can’t imagine someone actually accusing Jack of being responsible for what happened. I know he holds *himself* responsible, but human nature is like that. As bad as he felt about it all already... no wonder he wanted to kill himself. It’s a weird thing, the human psyche. It’s one thing to blame yourself for something that happened, but it’s so much worse when we think someone else agrees with us.
God, that happening and then the Stargate program (and me almost stranding him on another planet) and then Sara leaving him... I guess I’m a little surprised he’s functional at all. He’s lost a lot. A lot more than most people know.
Captain Carter - Sam, she finally told me to just call her Sam - didn’t have any idea. I hated having to be the one to tell her. I don’t know if Jack wanted her to know. I don’t know if he wants anyone at the SGC to find out. He doesn’t want anyone’s pity. It just pisses him off. Anyway, I hate breaking confidences and I’m pretty sure that’s what I did there. I know she would have found out one way or another before the end of the day, but I didn’t know that when I felt cornered into telling her Jack’s personal business.
I wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of the team knew by now that I have nightmares. I don’t think Jack would have said anything to them if it was avoidable, but if he figured it out without me saying anything, they could probably figure it out too.
I don’t think anyone else knows that he has occasional bad dreams too. When he starts tossing around and I go to wake him up, more often than not, the first thing he says is, “Charlie?”.
It’s been almost two years, but it’s still a very, very fresh wound. And it was just split open again with a chain saw.
The timing on this was pretty bad too. If it was going to happen, couldn’t it have happened two weeks ago? When I was still staying at Jack’s? I think it would have been less awkward for Jack if I was still living with him.
When he came back from taking that... thing... back to its planet he had this look in his eyes... I guess I’ve gotten kind of good at reading him. He didn’t want to deal with this alone. He had to go to Sara’s and find out what happened, what his 'double' did, and talk to her about it all. I thought about offering to go with him, but that seemed just a little... intimate? Although I’ve got to wonder what he told her. Yeah, the Stargate’s classified up one side and down the other, but I can’t imagine him going, “Yeah, that was a little weird, but I can’t explain it. It’s classified,” either. He had to tell her something.
So I went back to his place and waited for him. Got him some beer and picked up a few quarts of Chinese that we never ate. I still have the key he gave me when I was staying there, but I’m not anymore, so it didn’t feel right to just waltz back in. It was possible that he wouldn’t want any company, and I didn’t want to put him in the position of having to toss me out. So I waited on the porch.
Sitting out there waiting for him, I wondered if he might not bring her back. But I convinced myself that if they were going to make a go at... getting back together, they’d probably just stay at the house they used to share. So I figured I’d wait until ten or so, I had books in the car, and then leave a note for him to call me if he needed anything.
He was home by six. He said they talked for a while and then some guy named Keith called... I think he was hurt by that. I think maybe they would have tried to get back together if she hadn’t moved on.
Loneliness sucks. Take it from one who knows. I guess in the back of my mind - okay, the front of my mind too - I hope I made a difference last night. He didn’t even try the standard, “I’m fine, you don’t have to stick around” crap he usually does when gets hurt on a mission or something. I guess that’s something.
And he didn’t hold back last night. He talked a lot. About Charlie, about Sara and him splitting up, about why he was willing to die on Abydos. And he cried. And I held him. There’s an interesting feeling of... belonging... when a man as strong and brave and independent as Jack O’Neill breaks down in your arms. I can’t think of anyone he was more likely to show that side of himself too, except maybe Sara. But since she was part of the problem...
I wonder if he cried at Charlie’s funeral. He was... hard when I first met him. He was still dealing with Charlie’s death as an immediate thing and he’d walled himself away from the world. There was so much emotion coming from him last night that I guess I have to believe that he was dealing with more than just a goofed up alien replicating him and then his son.
I think I started talking about what lousy timing this whole thing had...
I’ve moved out of Jack’s house. (Lasted all of 11 days - most of which were spent on the base - before I was back... but still...) I guess he thought it was time too, since he found me a better place than the one downtown.
His story is that an Air Force buddy of his had bought the condo and then right before Apophis came back through the Stargate, and Jack got reactivated, this buddy (who never did get named) was transferred out East. So Jack was asked to rent out the condo.
Jack doesn’t lie well, but since I’m in no position to argue, I couldn’t really call him on it. But no guy I know decorates like this. I mean, it’s nice and all... but the bedspread matches the shower curtain. The dishes are a nice set of stonewear and stainless steel pots with copper bottoms and all the appliances match.
Or maybe I lived out of a couple of suitcases for too long.
Of course there is the matter of some of the stuff in the living room - apparently this friend of his was on the Stargate project when I was first there - I really wish he’d tell me who the guy was - and got into collecting Egyptian art after Jack came back and explained about the people on Abydos. I like it - of course - but there are just some really, really strange coincidences going on here. I found a Jackal and Hound set in one of the bookshelf cabinets. Now, I've gotten pretty good at spotting recreations, and I'm fairly sure this piece is authentic, ancient Egyptian. Where the *hell* would some soldier just "pick up" something like that? Of course, if this was all a set-up of some sort, where would Jack get it? I should stop thinking about it so much. As Jack said when we argued about me taking the place, "Be gracious, say 'thank you' and shut up."
It’s a nice place, though. Big. Really big. I’m sure that if Jack weren’t setting the rent, I’d never be able to afford it.
It gets lonely at night.
I have an appointment with a chimney sweep for next Tuesday. We should be home then - I can see that it’s going to be real hassle to make appointments with this job - so I can at least use the fire place. I like firelight.
I realize I’m not in any position to be skeptical, but it just seems so odd to me that Jack has this ‘friend’ who just happens to have been transferred out of town, who seems to have taken nothing but his extremely personal effects, just as I show up needing... well... everything.
I have to sign out a car or get a driver every night to get to the place, but for the first time since I was eight, I have a place to call “home” on Earth.
Jack and I are getting along a little better now that we aren’t living together, so I suppose this all accomplished what it was designed to, but... It can get lonely. I wonder if Jack ever gets lonely in that house by himself. Probably not. He lived there by himself for a year before I showed up again. He’s probably glad to have his space back. I mean, not that anyone on an active SG team has a lot of time to date, but if we did, it would have been a little awkward for him to try and bring someone home with me there.
I worried at first that he would... avoid me once I was gone. I mean, when I was staying there, we’d go and do stuff together - the museum, the football game, movies, dinner, beers, whatever. Jack’s actually seemed to make it a point to make sure we still get together when we have a few days off. We went to one of those Reservation Casinos last week after we got off duty. I lost $25 in the nickel slot machines, Jack won a couple hundred at the poker table... go figure. I think he expected me to go play cards with him, but to be honest... I don’t really know how to play poker. I mean, I understand the rules, but I can never seem to keep straight what hand beats what. I really don’t want to tell Jack that. He thinks I’m a big enough geek. Besides, Jack says I’d make a lousy poker player, he says people can read my face like a book. But at least we’re still spending time together. I think I was ... 22 the last time I realized I actually had a friend and not someone who was willing to hang around and tolerate me.
Apparently it was Sam who had this brilliant idea to have a house-warming party for me. It was... kind of embarrassing actually. At various times up to ten people standing around the apartment, telling me that I’d done a great job decorating when - at best - all I’d done was move a few things around. Well, that and fill the bookshelves. I put up my diaries and field journals, as well as a few of the books I had replaced when I ordered books for the office. I’ve been trying not to spend half my paycheck ordering books off the internet, but I’m only marginally successful. I like having good old-fashioned paper books around me. I know most of the information is available on-line now, but it’s... not the same.
I have no idea how to be a host. It’s pretty sad. I just kind of faded back and watched Sam take over. She seems pretty good with knowing how to be sure everyone has a drink and all that other stuff that just doesn’t occur to me.
She bought me a plant. I don’t know how she thinks I’m going to keep it alive when I’m home three random days of the week at best and sometimes gone for whole weeks at a time. There’s a little girl living across the hall, maybe I’ll pay her $5 a week and give her a key so she can water it every few days.
Ferretti was something else... he got me a tool box and the basics to go in it - hammer, screwdrivers, picture hangers... Which is kind of a cool idea, all said. It was actually stuff I didn’t have and needed.
Jack... being Jack, bought me a coffee maker. I didn’t even realize I didn’t have one until the first morning I woke up here. It wasn’t a big deal. There’s a coffee shop on the corner. But now I have this coffee maker that does everything but grow the beans - and it matches the rest of the appliances. So I guess maybe some guys do pay attention to stuff like that.
Teal’c made me special kind of mug. We have a pottery shop on the base for when we need to reproduce an artifact or bring a gift to the leader of a fairly technologically undeveloped planet like we did on P7H-129. Anyway, he got permission to use it to make this fairly basic mug and then got the ingredients to make a ceremonial tea - or as close as he and Sam could approximate without going back to Chulak for some of the things he needed. The team came a couple of hours early to help me get some food ready and stuff. When Jack and Sam ran out to buy some beer and wine to go with dinner, Teal’c showed me this ceremony that is done on Chulak (with the mug and the tea) that is supposed to bond a person to their new dwelling. It’s supposed to settle any terok’tar - which I could only translate as ‘bad energy’ between the dwelling and the dweller. Then, before Jack and Sam came back, I showed Teal’c how to play Jackal and Hound. He’s pretty good at strategy games like that. Old games like that are fascinating, it’s like being a part of history. Maybe I should teach Jack to play. It’ll give me something besides chess to beat him at.
Maybe it was just wishful thinking or state of mind or whatever, but I did actually feel better about moving and being an apparent charity case after that ceremony. Jack even commented that I seemed to be more relaxed when he came back. He asked what Teal’c and I had been up to. I just smiled and said nothing. Let him guess. Having a few unanswered questions is good for him.
I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be using a ceremonial mug to drink my coffee from, but I really like it, so I tend to use it a lot. I hope I’m not being insulting.
It’s weird living in a place this nice and knowing it’s mine. That I’m not committing some major faux pas if I leave a wet towel on the bathroom floor or drink out of the milk carton. I have to remind myself that I can put my feet on the couch when I’m reading or watching t.v. (Amazing what a few months of living with Jack did to me. I used to do it without thinking about it. Then he’d get all testy about shoes on the furniture. Now I have to think *to* do it, but I try and remember to take my shoes off all the same.)
Okay, got interupted for a bit there... Jack came over for a while. I guess all of his bravado this morning about how he was okay now, was just that... bravado. He came over with a six pack of beers to say ‘thank you’ for last night. One of these days I’ll get around to telling him I don’t like beer. But in the mean time... I’ll keep them around for when he visits.
I kind of wish he hadn’t felt the need for the pretense. He knows he doesn’t have to thank me. At least I hope he does. If he wants to come over because he doesn’t want to be alone, that’s fine with me. I’d kind of like to think we’re close enough that we don’t need that kind of b.s. between us.
He stayed until he had to go back to the base. Apparently he has to go back and see Dr. Tavish. He’s annoyed. Apparently he’d only been completely dismissed from her service about three weeks ago - and that was going back to the whole Kawalsky thing. Well, the Kawalsky thing, the going Neanderthal thing, the guy you used to work with thinking he was God thing... I guess it all adds up...
I’ll call and check on him later tonight. Maybe we’ll go for pizza or go to O’Malley’s for a drink or something. We don’t have to report for duty again until the day after tomorrow and I think Jack will want the distraction. And I want the company.
I guess I’ll work on the translation of the Ancient Greek scrolls SG-7 wanted me to have a look at until then. Oh yeah, I convinced the Air Force to get me a computer for home. I thought they’d give me something out of a store room that was antiquated before I went to Abydos, but they told me to go ahead and order one and the software that would let me do what I needed to do. Kind of like they let me get whatever books I wanted when I first got back. I don’t deliberately push it, but I do have to wonder where the limit is. So far, everything I’ve asked for, I’ve gotten. And without a 50 page grant proposal. Okay, so maybe the military does have a few advantages over academic life.