Fic: The Legend of Daniel Jackson (2/3)

[galaxysoup]

Part One

Lunchtime was always busy at Dottie's. Sara carefully balanced her full tray, dodging Mike, the cook, as she bustled out the kitchen door into the diner itself. She deposited her burden at the corner booth and headed back towards the counter.

A flash of red caught her eye and she turned to see Daniel hovering uncertainly by the door. She paused in surprise. Daniel was normally so timid, the last thing she would have expected was to see him cutting school to come to a crowded diner, but as she watched his chin firmed and his shoulders straightened and he marched over to the counter. He clambered up onto one of the stools and then his sense of purpose seemed to abandon him.

Shaking herself out of her stupor, Sara hurried over to the counter before one of the other waitresses could notice Daniel. She slid her tray onto a shelf and grabbed a menu, putting it down in front of him. He jumped, surprised, then realized who it was and gave her a smile of such relief she was almost taken aback.

"Hi, Daniel. Hungry?"

He nodded, still looking a little uncertain, and took an envelope out of his jacket pocket, placing it carefully on the counter. He gave her a worried look.

She picked it up and opened it, finding a creased dollar bill.

"Is this your lunch money?"

He gave her a little half smile that looked more like a wince than anything else.

"Well, then I guess you'd better decide what you want to eat." She flipped open the menu in front of him, noticing as she did so another customer seating himself at the other end if the counter. "I'll be back in a sec, give you a chance to decide, okay?"

He beamed at her and turned his attention to the lists of items on the menu. She took her notepad out of her pocket and headed for the other customer, but a hand reached out and stopped her before she was more than halfway. She turned her head to see Dottie frowning at Daniel.

"Sara, is he in here on his own? You know I don't like kids in here without someone to supervise them."

"It's okay." She watched Daniel studying the menu with the sort of gravity she usually associated with monumental decisions. "He's my neighbor. I'll vouch for him."

Dottie let go of Sara's arm and transferred her frown from Daniel to Sara. "Shouldn't he be in school?"

Sara shrugged. "He's really shy. I don't think he really knows anybody at his school, and I showed him where I worked this morning. I guess he just decided he'd rather eat with somebody he knows."

"What's his name?"

Sara grinned, recognizing Dottie's expression as the same one she gave Jack when he came in for a visit. Dottie had four kids and thirteen grandchildren, and she still mothered everyone who came into the diner. Sara could tell Daniel was well on the road to being adopted.

"Daniel. He doesn't talk much, though, so don't be surprised if he doesn't say anything right away."

Dottie nodded, then gave Sara a suspicious look. Sara just smiled. "You have that stray puppy look on your face again."

Daniel closed the menu carefully, keeping one eye on Sara. He'd seen her talking to a plump older lady earlier who kept sending him funny looks, but since he hadn't been thrown out yet he figured he was okay.

"What'll it be, hon?"

Daniel looked up and froze. It was the older lady Sara had been talking to earlier. He had the impression she was giving him a kindly look, but his eyes were riveted to her nametag.

'Dottie'. Dottie as in 'Dottie's'?

"Yep, I'm that Dottie, hon," the woman said cheerfully, and for a moment Daniel thought he'd spoken aloud. "So, what are you planning on for lunch?"

Daniel shot Sara a panicked look, but she had her back to him, talking to someone in one of the far booths. He was on his own. Hesitantly, he flipped open the menu and pointed.

"Grilled cheese, huh? One of our finest dishes, if I do say so myself." She winked at him, and he found himself smiling back. "You sit tight, hon, and I'll get it for you, okay?"

"'K-kay," he stammered, blushing furiously. Across the diner, Sara gave him a reassuring smile and he relaxed a little. "Thank you."

"No problem. Hey, you want fries with that? Course you do. Kids love fries." She smiled again and vanished into the kitchen.

Daniel wiped his hands on his pants and took a few deep breaths.

"Hey there," Sara said, ruffling his hair as she passed. He gave her a shaky smile, feeling his confidence coming back a little. This was okay. He could do this. No problem. And he wouldn't have to worry about Tommy or Spencer tripping him up. And the food looked better, too. So, no problem.

He turned a little on his stool to look at the other people in the diner. People had always fascinated him. He loved to watch them interact with each other, to try and guess what they were like by the way they talked or moved or dressed. He'd been pretty good at it in Egypt, but he was still trying to get his head around American customs.

He twisted the other way and watched Sara while she worked. She was laughing with some of the customers, taking their menus with one hand while she slipped her notebook into her apron pocket with the other.

There was a clatter as Dottie set his plate down on the counter in front of him. "Here you go," she said cheerily. "Oh, and here's some ketchup, too. Fries aren't fries without ketchup." He turned to thank her again, but she was already halfway down the counter, intent on her next task, and he didn't want to shout.

He gave the ketchup a puzzled look. He'd only ever had fries with mayonnaise before. Oh, well - new experiences. That's what Dad had always said. New experiences were what life was about. Without them, everything would just be boring.

He poured out a small puddle of the red stuff and dipped a fry in it, chewing thoughtfully. Not bad. Kind of nice, actually. Good strong taste. He turned his attention to the sandwich next, and after a moment's contemplation dipped it in the ketchup too. He smiled to himself as he ate.

Ketchup. Marvelous.

"Hey, there," Sara's voice said from across the counter. "What are you grinning at, young man?"

Daniel smiled at her. "Ketchup," he said through a mouthful of lunch. "'sgood. Never had it before."

She laughed. "What did you put on french fries, then?"

Daniel took another bite of sandwich. "Mayonnaise."

Sara made a face. "Ew!"

Daniel gave her an impish smile. "Not ew. Just different." He nudged his plate in her direction. "Want to try it?"

She gave him a skeptical look, then went into the kitchen and got a small saucer of mayonnaise. She dipped a french fry into it and gave it a dubious look. "You sure about this?"

"Positive." Daniel scooped up some mayonnaise with his own french fry and popped it in his mouth. "New experiences. Dad always said they were what made life worthwhile."

"Well, that's true enough." Cautiously, Sara put the french fry in her mouth and chewed. Daniel watched her intently as she swallowed and thought for a minute.

"Different." She said, and smiled. "But no, not ew."

* * * * * * * * * * *

"Hey, guess what?" Sara said as Jack came into the apartment.

He paused from hanging up his coat and gave her a wary look. "What?"

She rolled her eyes at his expression. "It's nothing bad. Don't be so paranoid!"

"It's only paranoid when the bad guys aren't real," Jack told her solemnly. "The last time you asked me that question you had just shorted out the entire house trying to rewire the kitchen and you were trying to break it to me gently with a candlelit dinner."

Sara waved this off with an impatient flap of her dishrag. "You enjoyed the dinner. And I fixed it later."

Jack had to admit that was true. "So, what catastrophic event has occurred this time?"

"Not catastrophic. But I think Daniel's starting to come out of his shell."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Well, that's good. What happened?"

Sara grinned at him. "He came to the diner for lunch today."

Jack's jaw dropped. "Came to the diner? As in, skipped school, walked into a crowded restaurant and ordered lunch?"

Sara beamed. "Yep."

"Daniel 'I'm scared stiff to even tell you my name' Jackson?"

"The one and only. He came in, gave me his lunch money, ordered from Dottie... we even had a conversation."

Jack whistled. "Good for him! What did you talk about?"

"French fries. He eats his with mayonnaise."

"Yuck!"

"Not yuck, just different."

It was a large room, taller than it was wide, the kind of room you could imagine housing a missile or a really huge telescope. Jack stood on a ramp that led to a blank wall and watched a group of people in fatigues come in. They walked past him up the ramp and vanished through the wall. He started to follow them, but someone grabbed his arm.

"Wait for me," Daniel said, and stamped his foot on the ramp.

"Okay," Jack said, but Daniel kept stamping, rhythmic bangs that echoed around the room and made Jack's head hurt. He grabbed Daniel and picked him up so he would stop making such a racket, but the noise kept going.

"Where's it coming from?" he asked Daniel, but Daniel just smiled at him. He could see Daniel talking, but the noise was getting louder and louder and he couldn't hear anything but the knocking, and he had a feeling that what Daniel was saying was really important but he couldn't hear it...

With a start, Jack woke up. Next to him, Sara had her head buried under her pillow and was mumbling something about barbarians at the gate.

He frowned, surprised, as he realized he could still hear the noise. It seemed to be coming from the living room.

He staggered out of his room and followed the noise to the window, where his sleep-fogged eyes saw Daniel on the fire escape and his cobwebbed brain registered the fact it was Daniel making the noise. The boy stopped knocking when he caught sight of Jack and even through the distortions of the window pane Jack could see he was grinning broadly. He pushed up the window.

"Good morning, Daniel," he said, but Daniel didn't seem to register his sarcasm.

"Morning, Jack! Guess what? It snowed!"

Jack blinked out the window and realized that Daniel was right. It had snowed. There were about four inches of the white stuff covering the ground, outlining tree branches and burying cars. He sighed, thinking of all the shoveling he was going to have to do.

"So it did." He glanced over at Daniel's expectant face and relented. "Tell you what - you go put on your hat and mittens, and I'll meet you outside. We can go play in the park."

The earliness of the morning, the cold air from the open window on his bare feet, the annoyance at being woken from a deep sleep all faded away at the brilliance of Daniel's smile. Daniel gave a bounce - an honest-to-god bounce - and hurled himself back across the fire escape into his own apartment. Jack shut the window and turned to find Sara giving him an amused look from the bedroom door.

"I think we've created a monster."

* * * * * * * * * * *

"Do you believe in aliens?" Daniel asked Jack idly. They were flopped in a snow bank near the entrance of the park, winded from a hectic hour of romping in the snow. Daniel leaned a little against Jack as they stared up at the still-falling snow.

"What, like on Star Trek?" Jack asked. Daniel gave him a blank look, and Jack resolved to introduce him to the Wonder That Was the Enterprise. "No, not really. What about you? You think there's life out there?"

"I don't know," Daniel said after a long pause. "I think there's a lot of stuff on Earth that can't be explained by what we know now, but I'm not sure if that's because there have been aliens on Earth or because we're just missing seeing something else."

Jack blinked. "So you think there have actually been aliens on Earth? Not just out there, but... here on Earth?"

Daniel shrugged. "Why not?" he said reasonably. "Besides, my grandfather's seen them."

Jack tried to think of something adequate to say. "Seen aliens?" he said finally, trying to keep the skepticism from showing too plainly in his voice.

Daniel gave him a tiny smile. "Of course, Nick's crazy, so I'd take anything he said with a grain of salt."

"Crazy, huh? Is that why you aren't staying with him?"

Daniel pulled away from him slightly, and Jack marked out another mental Daniel Off-Limits area. "He's not legally insane. My mom just said he was crazy." He fiddled with the zipper on his jacket. "He's busy."

Jack refrained from telling Daniel what he thought of a man who abandoned his grandson to the foster care system, crazy or not. "I bet. Meeting all those aliens must take up a lot of time."

Daniel gave a little chuckle and Jack relaxed a bit. He was slowly learning the boundaries that came with being one of maybe three people on the planet Daniel trusted, but it wasn't easy going.

"I'll tell you what. You come over to my place after school tomorrow, and I'll see if I can rustle up an episode of Star Trek for you. It must be playing on some channel."

Daniel grinned. "Okay."

"For research purposes, you understand."

Daniel nodded solemnly. "Homework."

Jack grinned back. "Absolutely."

Daniel shivered just as Jack began to be aware of the snow's cold seeping through the protection of his jacket. "I think it's time for us to go inside and warm up. You go change into some dry stuff and I'll start making us some hot chocolate, okay?"

"Okay." Daniel bounced to his feet and energetically hauled Jack up after him. "Thanks for playing with me, Jack."

Jack grinned and ruffled Daniel's hair. "No problem, kiddo. As Sara will tell you, I like playing in the snow as much as the next kid."

Daniel grumbled good-naturedly and skipped ahead a bit on the path. After a few feet, he turned back looking mischievous. "Live long and prosper," he said, giving Jack a perfect Vulcan salute.

Jack laughed and shoved him in a snow bank.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Daniel jerked himself awake and lay staring at the ceiling trying to get his breath back. He'd never had Nightmares before his parents died. His mother had worried at first that being exposed to burial chambers and workmen's superstitions would make him anxious, but after she caught him compiling a journal of the workmen's stories she relaxed. He could remember her boasting to his father that he must take after her because he took impeccable notes.

His Nightmares were like old friends now. In a perverse way, he welcomed them. He had only one photograph of his parents, a blurry one taken on his sixth birthday in front of Djoser's step pyramid, and he worried that someday his parents might exist only as an out-of-focus black and white static image is his head. The Nightmares, while horrible, were at least proof he could still remember them.

He got to his feet and paced restlessly around his room. He could feel something swelling in his chest, pressing against his ribcage until his chest felt full to bursting, and he tried not to breathe too hard as if that would somehow keep it from growing. He wrapped his arms around himself and hugged hard, trying to push the feeling back.

It didn't go. Finally, he snatched the blanket off his bed and went out to the fire escape.

It was a quiet night, clear and cold, and the fresh air made the pressure in his chest ease a bit. He wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and sat down near the wall of the building where the grating was free of snow, watching the city before him. In the distance, he could see the bright uneven lights of the office buildings and wondered who would be working this late. Far away, he could hear car horns honking and people shouting, but his neighborhood was mostly still. A cat burst across the sidewalk, streetlight flashing on its fur as it slipped shadow-like from pole to pole, and then vanished behind a trash can. He wondered if it had a home.

He leaned his head back against the brick and sighed. Sometimes he wished he were a cat, or maybe invisible. It would be so much easier if people just didn't see him. There would be no worrying about whether what he was doing was right or not, no anxiety over being singled out. Tommy and Spencer wouldn't pick on him. Mrs. Kirkbright would never call him to the board or nag him about his homework. He could just float around and watch people without making them nervous or getting in their way.

Invisibility would be good. He could slip through the night like a cat-shadow. He wouldn't have to be anymore. Being was exhausting.

Daniel sighed again, drew the blanket tightly about his shoulders, and waited for the sun to rise.

* * * * * * * * * *

Mrs. Kirkbright did not look pleased. She stood next to Daniel's desk and stared down at his mostly blank workbook, her arms crossed. Daniel stared at it too. Small black and white drawings formed a column on the left side of the page. He was supposed to have written down what they were on the corresponding lines to the right.

The first picture was of a cat. Chat. Gatto. Katze. Feles. Koshka. Tazaalib.

"Mister Jackson, if you persist in not doing your homework..."

Daniel let her voice wash over him. It was amazing how much disdain and condescension she could pack into just saying his name. And it wasn't like he hadn't done his homework. He had looked at it, decided it was silly, and written in a few answers. It wasn't his fault she didn't know that the Egyptian patron goddess of cats was Bastet. Or maybe she just didn't recognize the heiratic he'd used. It had been a toss-up between doing the full cartouche that formed Bastet's name but having to draw it in sideways so it would fit on the line, and doing the heiratic that worked horizontally.

The bell rang for recess and the rest of the class got up to go, but Mrs. Kirkbright kept lecturing. Daniel could see the other kids lined up at the door, waiting for Mrs. Kirkbright to let them out. They were giving him distinctly unfriendly looks. He ducked his head down further.

Finally, finally, Mrs. Kirkbright bustled away and opened the door. Daniel had been paying so much attention to whether or not he'd gotten the heiratic right, because maybe that was her problem, he hadn't paid attention to what she was saying. He hoped it hadn't been anything too important.

He zipped his jacket up slowly as usual, but this time he managed to do the whole thing himself without Mrs. Kirkbright hurrying him along. She was sitting at her desk swallowing pills out of a white plastic bottle and didn't even seem to realize he was still there. He was tempted to see if he could get away with staying inside for recess without her noticing, but by the way she was rubbing her head he thought she probably wanted some time to herself. Mom had gotten bad headaches too sometimes, usually because she'd managed to break her last pair of glasses and persisted in translating without them. When her headaches were really bad he wasn't allowed to make any noise. Not that that was ever a problem for Daniel. He was good at being quiet.

He went to the door as silently as possible and slipped out, easing it shut so carefully the latch didn't even make a clicking sound. He turned around and ran right into Tommy Simpson.

Daniel didn't even have time to realize what was going on before Tommy grabbed one arm and Spencer the other. They dragged him to the open area beyond the swing set and shoved him down on the ground.

"He's It!" Tommy yelled.

Daniel picked himself up slowly and looked around. He was standing at the center of a ring of kids from his class. Most of them were holding balls, the big red ones for basketball and the black-and-white ones for football.

Soccer, he reminded himself. It was called soccer in America.

Tommy threw the first ball, and Daniel saw it coming and ducked. But there was one after that, and another after that, and his glasses were knocked off and soon they were hitting him regularly and all he could do was curl up and try to protect himself as much as possible. He kept thinking of all the stories in the Bible where people got stoned to death. He supposed this was sort of what it felt like, only with balls instead of stones.

There was a shout and the barrage stopped. Daniel dimly heard one of the recess monitors yelling at Tommy, and Tommy yelling back that they were only playing Coliseum Dodgeball and Daniel had never said he didn't want to play. Daniel tried to take comfort in the fact that while Tommy didn't know what the Coliseum was and probably couldn't even spell it, Daniel had actually been there. They hadn't played dodgeball when he'd visited, though, which made him wonder where the game's name came from.

A hand touched his shoulder and he uncurled tentatively, glancing up at his savior. He thought he recognized her as one of the first-grade teaching assistants, a nice lady with a long black braid and a Hispanic accent he hadn't been able to place to a particular country yet. She looked worried.

"It's okay, they're gone. Are you all right?"

Not Spain, she didn't lisp at all. Maybe Argentina or Colombia by the way she pronounced her y's. Daniel wiped his nose on his jacket sleeve and nodded. He was kind of sore, which he suspected would only get worse as time went on, and his nose was bleeding a little, but nothing major. Fixable. Survivable. Not like being stoned for real. Not like being crushed.

He cut that thought off quickly but it was too late. He could feel tears pricking at the backs of his eyes and a swelling in his throat that made it painful to swallow. Angrily he turned away, jerking his shoulder out from beneath the lady's comforting hold, and ran his fingers through the snow by his knees, looking for his glasses. After a moment the lady joined him in his search, maybe not entirely sure what she was looking for but helping anyway.

His fingers touched slippery glass and he picked up a lens, whole despite not being attached to the frame any more. The lady made a sympathetic noise and another moment of searching turned up the rest. Daniel clenched his fist around the lens, helpless fury swelling hot and hard in his stomach.

The lady touched his shoulder again, slipping the frames into his coat pocket. "Let's go see the nurse. She'll get you some ice for that eye."

Daniel reached up to feel his eye, noticing for the first time that it was starting to swell a bit. He got to his feet and followed her into the building.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Ximena kept an eye on the boy as they walked through the halls to the nurse's office. He was probably going to have an impressive black eye in a few hours and his jacket was torn at the elbow, but otherwise he looked all right. Her brother Raoul had gotten into worse fights before and come out fine, so she wasn't particularly worried.

The nurse's office was always crowded during recess. She sat the boy down on a vacant chair and knelt down in front of him.

"What's your name?"

He looked at her for a minute, not saying anything, then reached back and tugged on the collar of his red jacket until she could see DANIEL JACKSON written on the tag in bold black permanent marker. She patted his knee.

"Okay, Daniel. I'm just going to see if I can find you an ice pack or something. You okay here by yourself for a little?"

He shrugged and looked away, so she wove her way through the crowd of children to the nurse's desk. Dinah glanced up at her and went back to digging through a large box of what appeared to be assorted medical supplies.

"What do you want?"

"I need some ice. Black eye."

Dinah jerked a thumb over her shoulder towards the small freezer tucked between two battered green file cabinets. "Help yourself."

Ximena found a box of plastic bags on top of the freezer and filled one, carrying it wrapped in a paper towel back to her small charge. He was sitting right where she'd left him, inspecting the remains of his glasses.

"Here you go." He glanced up at the ice pack and took it, turning it over curiously in his hands before pressing it gingerly to his face. He gave her a tiny smile of thanks and went back to studying his glasses.

She studied him covertly. He was a nice-looking kid, although he seemed to shrink into himself whenever anyone came near. The fact that he had yet to speak intrigued her. Her brother Raoul had been small for his age and had been picked on a lot by other children until he learned how to fight back, and there was something about this boy that reminded her of him.

She got up and went back to the nurse's desk. Dinah was over in the corner, tending to a scraped knee, and never noticed Ximena looking up the boy's file and copying down his address on a small scrap of paper. She went back to the boy.

"Daniel, is there someone at your home right now?"

He gave her a puzzled look and nodded slowly, obviously confused. She smiled reassuringly.

"Okay. Why don't you go get your stuff from your classroom and I'll walk you home?" There was plenty of time to get from the school to the address listed in the boy's file before she would be missed. He smiled suddenly at her, taking her by surprise, and headed for the door, still holding the ice pack to his face.

It only took a few minutes to convince Dinah to send Daniel Jackson home for the afternoon, and by the time she was finished Daniel was already standing patiently in the hallway with his backpack and the now repaired glasses.

"Let's go, shall we?" she said, holding out her hand. After a slight hesitation, the boy reached out and took it, giving her a tentative smile. She smiled back and they started walking.

He remained silent as they walked, but Ximena kept up a stream of chatter that he seemed to like listening to. She told him about how she had come from another country, very different from this one, where they spoke a different language and explained that was why she had an accent. She told him about Raoul and her sister Maria and how they used to play as children, and he smiled when she told him about some of the trouble they'd gotten into.

They reached the apartment building and climbed the stairs to the third floor. Ximena scanned the doors for the right apartment number, but just as she found it Daniel tugged her hand to the next-door apartment. Ximena frowned.

"Don't you live in that one?" she asked, but he was already knocking on the other door. There was a shout from inside the apartment and after a moment the door opened to reveal a tall blonde woman in jeans and a sweatshirt.

"Daniel? What are you doing home so early?" she asked, and didn't seem surprised when his answer was merely to tilt his head so she could see the swelling red mark around his eye. She frowned and knelt down in front of him.

"Wow, you're going to have quite a shiner there, Daniel! What happened?"

Daniel didn't answer, glancing over his shoulder at Ximena. The blonde woman stood up immediately.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't even see you there. I'm Sara O'Neill. Would you like to come in?"

"No, thank you - I just wanted to make sure Daniel got home okay. You're his mother?" she asked uncertainly.

Daniel was already heading past Ms. O'Neill into the apartment, but he stopped and looked back at her words. Sara laughed.

"No such luck, I'm just a friend. Daniel lives next door. You sure you don't want to come in for some coffee or something?"

An enormous smile blossomed on Daniel's face at the blonde woman's words, and Ximena smiled. "No, really, I'm fine. I'd better be getting back. Bye, Daniel!"

Daniel gave her a small wave, and Mrs. O'Neill shut the door.

Sara took in Daniel's smile with a puzzled but gratified look. "What?" she asked.

Daniel shook his head. "Nothing."

She leaned over and inspected his face. "That's going to be a pretty impressive shiner in the morning. What happened?"

His smile slipped a little. "Can I wait until Jack gets home? Then I'll only have to tell it once."

"Okay." Sara tousled his hair. "Go get some fresh ice for your eye. I'm making cookies, if you want to help."

"Neat!" He grinned at her and shucked his jacket, bouncing into the kitchen. Sara smiled and picked it up, noticing the torn elbow as she did so. "Hey, Daniel? Want me to patch this for you? I think I've got some red fabric that will match."

Daniel stuck his head around the door, a wet but empty plastic bag in one hand. "Sara?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you... could you do it in another color?"

"Sure." She sounded puzzled. "I've got an old pair of Jack's jeans I can use. Nice and tough. Want me to do both elbows so you aren't lopsided?"

Daniel looked relieved. "Yes, please. Thanks, Sara."

"No problem." She set the jacket down. "I expect payment, though. You're going to have to do a job for me."

"Okay. What is it?"

She took the dripping plastic bag from him and carried it to the freezer. "You're going to have to help me eat these cookies when I'm done." She gave him a deeply serious look. "You think you can handle that?"

He grinned cheekily at her. "Only if Jack doesn't eat them first."

* * * * * * * * * * *

Sara frowned into the cookie dough. "This doesn't look right. How does it taste?"

Daniel gave the soupy mixture a wary look and tentatively scooped up a little on his finger. He stuck the finger in his mouth and immediately spat into the sink.

"Ew!"

"Different?" Sara asked hopefully.

"Ew!"

"Right." She scowled at her recipe. "I wonder what I forgot..."

"The part that makes it taste good?" Daniel suggested snidely, and paled. "Sorry, Sara - I didn't mean to be rude - "

Sara gave the bowl a forbidding look. "No, you're right. Whatever part of this recipe is supposed to make these cookies taste good is most certainly not here." She glanced sideways at Daniel, who looked as though he wished the floor would swallow him whole. "Well, there's only one thing to do with cookie dough this awful."

"What?"

"Food fight!"

* * * * * * * * * * *

The kitchen was occupied by a cloud.

Jack blinked and looked again. No, it really was. It was completely white.

A small patch of whiteness detached itself from where the counter used to be and turned in his direction. At least, he assumed it did - he wasn't entirely sure those two blue spots he could see were eyes. It could be some sort of alien cloud-being with horns.

"Jack!" the cloud-being blurted, and collapsed to the flour, laughing hysterically. Another patch of white, already on the floor, joined in.

"What the hell?" Jack exclaimed. The cloud-beings just laughed harder. He squinted into the kitchen. The whiteness was beginning to dissipate a little, and he could make out the counter, now, and a yellow ceramic bowl Sara used for baking, and an open bag of...

"Flour?!" He burst out incredulously. "Is that flour?"

The larger cloud-being leaned on the smaller one for support and managed to gasp out "Sort of..." before they both collapsed laughing again. Jack decided to cut his losses while he could and went to the bedroom to change out of his uniform, leaving irregular white footprints on the living room carpet as he went.

A few moments' absence did a lot to restore sanity. He returned to find the whole kitchen more or less visible, the cloud-beings breathing again and losing a bit of their cloudiness, very sheepishly attacking the counter with wet towels.

"Why is there a cloud in the kitchen?" Jack demanded.

"Sara was going to make cookies," Daniel said, and paused.

"The batter was... well, it tasted..." Sara's voice trailed off.

"Different," Daniel said supportively, and they both laughed.

"And so ..." Jack prompted.

"Food fight!" Daniel cheered, and immediately tried not to look like he had had anything to do with so immature and irresponsible a pastime. Jack stared at the catastrophe in the kitchen, and at Sara and Daniel, still covered with flour, then sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and laughed until his sides ached.

"I really love you two, you know that? When I think of the normal, boring things I could come home to every day, I thank my lucky stars that I find flour storms and electrical mishaps."

Sara stroked his hair and, not incidentally, liberally coated him with flour. "What, is the great Jack O'Neill becoming sentimental? I think I actually heard some feelings there!"

Jack immediately looked horrified. "Feelings? No!" He looked to Daniel in mock-panicked appeal. "I didn't really say all of that out loud, did I?"

Daniel patted him consolingly on the knee and gave him a floury hug. "We won't tell."

Sara hooted. "Yes, we will! Blackmail, oh baby!"

Jack reached out suddenly, humor forgotten, and took Daniel's chin in his hand, turning his face into the light. "What happened to your face, kiddo?"

Daniel's face fell. "I'm fine."

Jack smiled. "I can see that. Not fine kids don't have flour fights. But can you tell me what happened?"

Daniel looked away. "It was just a game. I just didn't know how to play." He gave Jack a hesitant smile.

"What game?" Sara asked softly.

"Coliseum Dodgeball. Tommy Simpson wanted to play."

Jack traded mystified looks with Sara. "What's Coliseum Dodgeball?"

Daniel looked shocked. "You don't know?"

Sara shrugged. "Never heard of it."

"Oh." Daniel said, still looking surprised. "Well, it's like regular dodgeball, only you stand in a circle and the it person stands in the middle."

"Then what happens?"

"Then everybody throws balls at the it person."

Jack frowned. "And the it person tries to dodge?"

"I guess. I never really figured that part out, because I dodged Tommy's ball but everyone else kept throwing. They kept throwing after I got hit too, so I guess it wasn't that either."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "So basically everyone threw stuff at you?"

Daniel winced. "Um. Yeah, sort of." He shrugged. "I just didn't understand the rules. I'll figure it out," he added reassuringly.

Jack leaned over so his face was near Daniel's. "Daniel, I want you to listen to me, okay? If someone wants you to play something you don't want to play, or if they're making you unhappy, go find a grownup to stand near. Got that?"

Daniel blinked. "Jack, I'll never figure it out if I don't try," he said reasonably.

"Daniel," Sara said. "Is it easier to figure stuff out if you're watching or if you're all tangled up in the middle of it?"

Daniel thought about that for a moment. "Watching."

Sara smiled. "Well, there you go."

Daniel nodded, still looking doubtful. "Okay."

"You'll give it a try?"

"Sure."

"Good." Sara gave him a smile. "Now, why don't you go change into something a little less floury. You can bring me your dirty stuff and I'll do a load of laundry. Maybe with Jack here we'll be able to figure out those cookies, huh?"

Daniel smiled. "I think we're out of flour."

"Nonsense! We can just scrape it off the counter and reuse it. Now scoot."

Daniel scooted. Once he was gone, Sara gave Jack an unhappy look. Jack held his hands up defensively.

"I know, I know. I don't like it any more than you do. But you know as well as I do that this bullying is going to keep happening wherever he is and the sooner he learns to deal with it on his own, the better off he'll be."

Sara frowned. "We can help, Jack. Maybe we could at least go talk to his teacher - "

"And what happens if they move him to another place? He's a foster child, Sara. They don't stay with one family indefinitely. He's got to know how to do it himself because there's no guarantee his next family will help him."

"I know." She sighed and looked at her hands. "Maybe..."

"Maybe what?"

"Nothing. Never mind. I'd better start cleaning this up."

* * * * * * * * * * *

It was a standoff, like the Westerns Mrs. Weaver watched sometimes on TV. On one side there was Tommy and Spencer. On the other side was Daniel. Between them stood Ximena.

"Come on, Daniel. It's just a game of tag," Spencer coaxed.

Daniel shook his head. Ximena smiled politely at Tommy and then pointedly ignored him.

Tommy gave her a challenging look and returned his attention to Daniel. "Scaredy-cat," he hissed.

Daniel leaned back against the wall of the school and slid down until he was sitting comfortably on the ground. Tommy got the point. Snarling, he retreated.

Ximena gave Daniel a surreptitious thumbs-up.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Everyone in Daniel's class was excited. There was an air of anticipation that seemed to run through the whole school - the classroom and playground buzzed with it and even Mrs. Kirkbright seemed a little more cheerful sometimes. Daniel was content to leave it at that, to sit as usual in the corner and just enjoy everyone else's excitement, but Jack, naturally, had other ideas.

"Sooo," Jack said, drawing the word out. "What are you going to ask Santa for?"

Daniel gave him an embarrassed little smile. He'd never really celebrated Christmas with his parents. Sure, Dad had sat him down and explained the origins of the holiday, and Mom had walked him through a Santa Lucia's day ceremony once in deference to Nick, but it had never really seemed that important. He'd been a little surprised at the fervor with which the holiday was embraced in America.

"I don't know," he said honestly. Daniel didn't believe in Santa Claus, but Jack seemed to think it was important so he was willing to humor him. "I haven't really thought about it."

"Oh, come on," Jack said cheerfully, slipping an arm around Daniel's shoulders. "There must be something you want more than anything else."

I want my parents back, Daniel thought, but that seemed unkind to Jack. I want to go home.

"I don't know," he said again. "I'll let you know if I come up with anything."

The conversation made him think, though. Not about his own present, but about what he would give to Jack and Sara. He didn't have any money, so buying presents was out of the question. Normally he would just save his lunch money for a few days and go find something in the city, but now that he ate lunch with Sara at the diner that option was gone. And for that matter, should he get a present for Mrs. Weaver too? He wasn't even sure she celebrated Christmas.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Jack stared in frustration at the catalogs spread out on the table in front of him. "Kids aren't supposed to be hard to shop for," he complained to Sara, who was sitting a few feet away in like-minded despair on the living room floor. "You just get them lots of toys and they're happy for weeks."

"He's not a normal kid," Sara said in resignation. "Damn him anyway," she added as an afterthought.

Jack leaned over and rested his forehead on the table. "I don't think he even knows what he wants. No, I know he doesn't know what he wants. I think he's actually a little surprised we're taking this so seriously."

Sara sighed and tossed a magazine away to land in an untidy heap. "Well, he didn't grow up here. They probably don't celebrate Christmas in Egypt."

Jack banged his head on the table. "They didn't celebrate Christmas in ancient Egypt, more like," he corrected gloomily.

"Ja-ack," Sara sing-songed from the floor, a slow smile spreading across her face. "I think I've got an idea..."

* * * * * * * * * * *

It was the doodling that did it. He was sitting in Mrs. Kirkbright's class, drawing aimlessly in the margins of his textbook, when the idea struck. He grinned to himself.

Perfect.

Christmas was fast approaching. Daniel had taken to spending his rare free days in the city just wandering around looking at the shop windows instead of sneaking into museums, and on one particularly fine night Sara took him to watch the skaters in the park. He loved the air of suppressed enthusiasm permeating everything, even if it did mean that the kids in his class were rowdier than usual and Mrs. Kirkbright got even more irritable. It was a good time of year to watch.

In his spare time, Daniel worked on Jack and Sara's presents. Jack had explained to him with real regret that they were going to Minnesota for Christmas day, but they could do presents before they left. Daniel couldn't have cared less about the actual day. He couldn't wait to show Jack and Sara their presents and as far as he was concerned, the sooner the actual present giving day came, the better. Add to that the fact that Jack kept giving him immensely pleased looks and muttering things like "Just you wait..." or "You're so gonna love this..." and the days leading to the twenty-fourth seemed to drag by.

Finally, the magical day dawned. Daniel was up with the sun, having gotten out of school the day before, and was crouched on the fire escape fully dressed by the time Jack had stumbled into the kitchen for coffee. Sara let him in, grinning broadly, and ushered him over to the small Christmas tree in the corner to wait while she made hot chocolate.

"How long have you been waiting out there?" Jack asked, smirking. "All night?"

"Since October," Daniel said, rolling his eyes. He gave a wriggle of excitement. "Do you want your presents now? Can I give them to you now?"

Sara laughed behind him and handed him a mug of hot chocolate. "Okay, I think we're ready. Are you ready, Daniel?"

"I don't think he's ready," Jack said skeptically. "Maybe we'd better wait until we get back..."

"I'm ready!" Daniel whooped, and pulled two flat packages out from under his jacket. He looked them over for a moment, then handed one to Jack and one to Sara. They were neatly wrapped in newspaper and tied with string which Daniel had painstakingly colored red and green. Jack and Sara exchanged amused looks.

"These are really pretty, Daniel. I like the string."

"They're better on the inside," Daniel said, leaning forward anxiously.

Sara bit her lip to hold back a smile and turned her attention to unwrapping her present. Jack ripped his open with enthusiasm, sparing little thought for the state of the wrapping paper.

"Wow," he said, gazing down at the picture in front of him. "Did you draw this yourself? It's incredible."

"Don't show me!" Sara admonished him. "I haven't unwrapped mine yet."

"You like it?" Daniel asked uncertainly.

"I love it, Daniel. What's it say?"

Daniel beamed at him. "It's your name, or at least as close to it as I could come. Nobody really knows what ancient Egyptian sounded like, so the sounds associated with heiroglyphs are mostly taken from later Greek or Latin translations of names... what?"

Jack shook his head, smiling. "Nothing. It's really special, Daniel. I'm going to put it in a frame as soon as I can."

"Mine too, Jack," Sara said. "This is gorgeous, Daniel. That's really my name?"

"Yep." Daniel leaned forward to point out the various parts of the picture. "Only royal names are in cartouches, that oval thing with the scrollwork at the top and the bottom. You can pick them out really easily when you've got a whole text in front of you."

"Cool," Sara said, sounding impressed.

Jack put his picture carefully to one side. "You know what I think, Sara?"

Sara nodded solemnly. "Usually."

"I think it's time to give Daniel what's coming to him."

"An excellent idea, Lieutenant O'Neill." Sara saluted smartly and bent under the Christmas tree, emerging a moment later with two small, brightly wrapped packages. "Merry Christmas, Daniel!"

Daniel took the presents with wide eyes. "Wow," he breathed.

Jack laughed. "And that's just the wrapping paper!"

Daniel stuck his tongue out at Jack and carefully unwrapped the presents, staring in puzzlement at the card and small wooden spool. Sara, sensing his confusion, came to sit next to him. She picked up the card.

"This is a library card, Daniel. You can use it to take out any book in the New York Public Library."

Daniel took the card from her with reverent hands. "Any book?"

Jack flopped down next to him, picking up the wooden spool. "And this, Daniel, is a yo-yo. One of the greatest inventions of all time. Come on, let's go out to the landing and I'll show you how to make it do tricks."

Daniel tucked the library card carefully into his shirt pocket. "It does tricks?"

Jack grinned. "Sure does. Come on."

* * * * * * * * * * *

That afternoon, after Jack and Sara had left for the airport, Daniel sat in his bedroom playing with his yo-yo. The library card sat exactly in the center of his dresser, waiting for the twenty-sixth when the library would be open. Daniel was planning on trying to find a book of yo-yo tricks so he could impress Jack later.

He heard the front door of the apartment open and shut, and something heavy hit the floor. A moment later, he heard a man's voice talking to Mrs. Weaver.

Intrigued, Daniel tucked the yo-yo into the pocket of his jeans and crept down the hall until he could see the entryway. Mrs. Weaver was helping a balding man off with his coat.

Mr. Weaver was home.

* * * * * * * * * * *

"So, David, how old are you?" Mr. Weaver asked perfunctorily. Daniel stared at his plate and said nothing. Mr. Weaver scowled at Mrs. Weaver. "Doesn't he ever say anything?"

Mrs. Weaver smiled. "His name is Daniel, dear. He's a little shy. He just needs to get used to you. How was your business trip?"

Mr. Weaver harrumphed and bent his attention to his dinner. "Fine, although I don't know what Rafferty thinks he's doing. How that man made vice president I have no idea. Utterly incompetent."

Daniel hunched his shoulders and fingered his yo-yo though the fabric of his jeans. The apartment was too small with Mr. Weaver in it. The furniture seemed too fragile, the silences too heavy. Mr. Weaver seemed to take up an inordinate amount of space for one person. And it didn't help that he didn't appear to know what to do with Daniel.

Another silence fell at the table. Daniel tried to pretend he was invisible.

"How long are you home for, dear?"

"Two days. I have to get back on the twenty-sixth."

Mrs. Weaver's smile vanished. "Only two days? But - "

"I'm sorry but that's the way it is. You know how important this time of year is."

Mrs. Weaver's chin quivered. "But, Robert, it's Christmas." she protested.

Mr. Weaver glared. "Look, we've had this conversation before. You know - " his voice broke off as he seemed to realize Daniel was still at the table. "Donald, Mrs. Weaver and I have something we need to discuss."

Daniel fled to his room, closing the door after him. He could still hear their voices down the hall, rising in volume. Someone, he guessed Mr. Weaver, hit the table hard and he heard the plates jump. Mrs. Weaver answered back shrilly.

Daniel curled up on his bed, pulling his pillow over his head. He tucked the yo-yo up under his chin and curled into the smallest ball possible, squeezing his eyes shut tight.

Down the hall, something clattered to the floor and broke. He could hear both of the Weavers shouting and wondered how they would be able to hear each other. He pulled the covers up over his head too, but he could still hear them.

"'My heart, my mother, twice,'" Daniel whispered. "'My heart of my coming into being. May there not be resistance to me in judgement; may there not be repulse to me on the part of the divine chiefs; may they not make thy separation from me in the presence of the possessor of the scales. Thou art my ka within my body which formeth and strengtheneth my limbs. Ab-a en mut-a sep sen hati-a en xeperu-a em aha er-a em meter...'"

* * * * * * * * * * *

The apartment was quiet. Daniel slid cautiously from beneath his covers and stood listening at the door to his room. He hadn't bothered to put on his pajamas before going to bed and his sweater had bunched up uncomfortably around his chest, so he took a minute to straighten it out, and then eased the door open.

He crept down the hall, slipping from shadow to shadow like a wraith. The television in the living room was on, the sound turned down. Mrs. Weaver was asleep in her armchair, a damply wrinkled handkerchief clenched in one hand. Mr. Weaver's briefcase was gone from beside the front door.

Daniel tiptoed over to the roll-top desk in the corner of the living room and opened it, wincing at the quiet scrape of wood on wood, but Mrs. Weaver did not stir. A moment's search by the flickering light from the television turned up Mrs. Weaver's address book, a thin leather-bound volume with a white satin ribbon tucked between the pages. Daniel arranged it carefully in the center of the open desk and slipped back down the hall to Mrs. Weaver's bedroom to collect the crocheted blanket from the foot of her bed. He spread it gently over her, tucking it up around her chin, and went back to his room.

Christmas was no big deal, really. Not for Daniel. But he didn't think Mrs. Weaver should be spending it alone. Surely there was someone in that little book who she'd want to see. There had to be someone she could talk to.

Nobody was really alone. There was always someone, wasn't there?

* * * * * * * * * * *

Jack rounded the corner of the last landing before his floor and came face-to-knees with Daniel, who was crouched down small behind the banister staring at him anxiously.

"Hi, Daniel. How's it going?" Jack asked, looking up at him through the slats.

Daniel's hand poked out from where it was tucked between his legs and his chest and gave a tiny wave. Jack frowned and put down his bag on the landing. He could hear Sara coming up behind him on the stairs.

"Is something wrong?"

Daniel stared at him for another moment, then said in a very small voice, "Mr. Weaver came home."

Something heavy and cold landed in the pit of Jack's stomach and he came quickly around the last corner of the stairs and knelt beside Daniel. Daniel turned a little to look at him, still curled protectively against the banister.

"Did he hurt you?"

Daniel frowned and uncurled a bit. "No," he said, drawing the word out, obviously unsure why Jack would even ask such a question. Jack relaxed a fraction. "But he made Mrs. Weaver upset and now he's gone."

Jack frowned. "Are you all right?" There was something strange about Daniel's behavior that was making him uneasy.

Daniel's eyes flickered to one side. "I'm fine."

"Is Mrs. Weaver okay?" Sara asked from behind Jack.

Daniel hesitated. "She wants to go visit her sister tonight," he said finally.

Jack and Sara exchanged puzzled looks. Suddenly, Sara's expression cleared.

"Daniel, do you want to stay with us while she's gone?"

Daniel brightened immediately. "You wouldn't mind?"

Jack grinned at him. "Mind? Of course not! Go get your stuff, kiddo. I'll make my famous tuna noodle casserole surprise for dinner."

Sara gave an unladylike snort. "The surprise being that I make it, of course."

* * * * * * * * * * *

Daniel jerked himself awake, gasping for breath, and wriggled out from underneath his blanket to stand by Jack and Sara's living room window. The stars were mostly invisible tonight, hidden by a combination of clouds and a full moon, and all of a sudden the apartment seemed too quiet. The silence weighed down on Daniel, pressing in at his ears, until it seemed like he had to be the only one in the whole world for it to be so quiet. He turned and pattered quickly down the hall to stand outside Jack and Sara's bedroom door.

There. He could hear them now, breathing quietly. Daniel let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding and sagged against the doorframe. The floor was cold against his feet, so after a moment he returned to the living room.

It was too quiet again. He hugged himself, right around the USAF T-shirt Jack had given him to sleep in, tightly enough that he could feel his heartbeat in his arms, but it didn't help. Finally, he pulled his blanket and pillow off the couch and made his way back to the bedroom door. A few moments of creative arrangement later and he had a nice little nest in the corner of the hallway where he could hear Jack and Sara's faint sleeping noises. He curled up, cozy in his makeshift bed, but it was a long time before he went back to sleep.

* * * * * * * * * * *

The problem with water, Jack reflected as he lay in bed, was that it didn't take long after drinking it that you had to get rid of it. Heaving a barely audible sigh he eased himself out from under Sara's outstretched arm and trudged to the bathroom.

Business done, he headed back down the hall, coming to a halt when he caught sight of the bundle of blankets by the bedroom door. When he squinted, he could see Daniel looking solemnly back at him in the darkness.

"Bad dream, kiddo?"

There was a barely perceptible nod. Jack bent down and scooped Daniel up in his arms, blanket and all, and carried him back to the living room.

"What say we sit on the couch and watch the sky out the window, huh?"

"Okay."

Jack settled them both on the couch, Daniel tucked against one side and the blanket over them both. They sat for a minute in silence.

"You know, next time you have a bad dream, you can wake us up. You don't have to stay in the hall."

Daniel gave him a tiny smile and leaned his head against Jack's shoulder. "Okay. Thanks, Jack."

"No problem. You want to talk about it?"

Daniel shook his head, and they were silent for a while, just watching the city lights out the window. Finally, Daniel spoke.

"Jack, do you ever cry?"

Jack cocked his head to one side. "Not for a while. Haven't had anything to cry about, I guess."

"Do grownups cry?"

"Sure. Everybody cries."

"Mrs. Weaver cries," Daniel said softly. "I'd never seen a grownup cry before. I didn't know what to do."

"That you should ask Sara about," Jack said ruefully. "I never know what to do when people cry."

"Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for letting me stay with you."

Jack rubbed his shoulder with one hand. "No problem. You know, you can always stay with us, if you need to."

"There's always someone," Daniel murmured. "Thanks."

They stayed there until the sun rose.

Part Three