Fic: Love

[galaxysoup]

FANDOM: Stargate SG-1
RATING: PG-13
CATEGORY: Angst, slash, het, UST
SUMMARY: Four vignettes on one subject.
SPOILERS: Window of Opportunity, Fallen/Homecoming, Absolute Power, Need, Serpent's Lair, Legacy, Forever in a Day, Holiday, Stargate the movie, Crossroads, First Commandment, Between Two Fires, Divide and Conquer, Family
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Translations of Jack's Latin: Semper fi = Always faithful (Marine motto, shortened from the proper Latin 'semper fidelis'). E pluribus unum = From many, one (United States motto). Non illegitemae te carborundum = Don't let the bastards get you down. Abi in malem crucem = Go to hell. Mordete mei = Bite me. Admittedly some of the more, ah, unusual ones I spelled phonetically rather than copy them down from somewhere, but I did the best I could with my two years of Latin. If you don't like it, or if you're Professor Galler... mordete mei. ;-)

LOVE

CONSEQUENCES

I was bored. I know that's not an excuse, but it's the only one I've got.

It was supposed to be a joke. Throwing pots? Not so wild and crazy. Riding my bike through the halls? Getting better. Playing golf through the Stargate? Now that was a good one. Kissing Carter? Starting to get into the swing of it.

No consequences. Kinda cool, when you thought about it. So maybe I started to lose track, a little bit, that even if nobody but me and Teal'c remembered it, it was still all real. I suppose if Daniel ever finds out, I can blame it on the Latin. Enough Latin could make anyone a little crazy. I mean look at Daniel - he's practically fluent and I've always known he was nuts. Semper fi. E pluribus unum. Non illegitemae te carborundum. Abi in malem crucem.

See? I'm nuts too. Mordete mei.

Maybe I was feeling bad about letting him get knocked down so much. No, that's just an excuse, and a bad one. I kissed Carter and never felt a thing. Kissed Daniel and didn't expect to feel anything either.

Thing is, I wasn't expecting him to kiss me back.

It was just supposed to be a joke. By that point we were so bored we'd moved on from Things You've Always Wanted To Do But Never Had the Guts, to Things You'd Never Ever Ever Do Unless Stuck in a Timeloop Where No One Else Would Know You'd Ever Done It. After a while, the morality sort of faded away. It just wasn't real any more. Me and Teal'c were reduced to giving each other kind of furtive looks as we slunk off to do whatever it was we were planning on doing, because even in all the morality-killing boredom we never lost track of the fact that it was the two of us who would remember. It's a soldier thing, I guess.

Daniel was at the blackboard, writing up Latin stuff. It was one of the sections we'd already translated, the same one he always started putting up before Teal'c and I could tell him we'd moved past that point ages ago. I don't know why he always chose that one, really. It wasn't the beginning or anything, just some section in the middle that didn't have any real relevance. Teal'c had wandered off in the direction of the gym looking resolutely aimless, so I was pretty sure he wasn't going to show up for Latin lessons. And I was looking for something new, something to surprise me, because I was so sick of seeing the same thing again and again. Daniel's question. Fruit Loops. The briefing. The explanation. Daniel getting run over in the hall. 400 pages, computer keyboard... the whole ball of wax. If we ever did get this loop business stopped, I'd probably die of shock.

He sort of turned as I came in, glancing over one shoulder in a cursory way because he'd been expecting us and I think he was just checking to see if it was me or Teal'c. I walked up behind him, grabbed him by one shoulder, spun him around and planted one on him.

There was no finesse to it, no grace or prelude or any intention beyond getting it over with quick enough that he wouldn't have a chance to knee me in the balls. I didn't dip him like with Carter. I'd never kissed a guy before and I was curious and Daniel was convenient. He's nice enough and non-lethal enough that he probably wouldn't come after me with a P-90 as soon as I let go. Those were pretty much my only criteria.

My lips against his. Hard and unyielding, his with shock and mine because I just wanted the bragging rights and I couldn't have cared less if it was a good kiss or not. I mean, it was Daniel. He's probably the least sexual guy on the planet, unless you're a Goa'uld.

Maybe I let it last a second too long. Maybe that was what went wrong, because all of a sudden it wasn't shock and bragging. Daniel's hands came up and grabbed the back of my head, and his mouth opened and he kissed back. And when I say kissed, I mean kissed. I pushed against his chest and tried to tell him to let me go, but opening my mouth just gave him the opportunity to slip his tongue in. I felt the bookcase against my back and Daniel at my front and his tongue in my mouth and I think I went into shock because a moment later he stepped back and all I could do was stare at him.

And I saw it in his eyes. He knew what I'd been doing. He knew I didn't mean it as anything other than a prank. And he knew he'd never remember it, that it would be all gone as soon as the loop started again. He'd kissed me back because maybe, just maybe, way down deep in some corner of his brain, that kiss would register somewhere. He did it because he knew it was his only chance.

He'd wanted it.

He gave me a tiny smile, full of mockery, because he knew I would remember and he knew his secret was out and maybe he was still trying to decide if it was worth it. I could feel his eyes on my back as I ran out of the room. We never said a word.

The loop restarted. I stopped goofing off, made Teal'c come back and work on the Latin. It had gone far enough. It was time for us to get off the damn ride and get back to reality.

Daniel didn't remember, of course. He went on asking his stupid question. For him, it had never happened. For him, I pretended it had never happened either. But I watched him, kind of covertly, trying to catch a glimpse of the passion that had been behind the kiss.

I couldn't see it. It was completely buried. It might as well have never been.

And I always thought he was a lousy liar. Only about some things, it would seem.

So here I am, on my observation platform, just me and my telescope and my beer and that fucking kiss. You know, I still can't decide if it was a good kiss or if it was just the staggering emotion Daniel put into it. I don't even really remember the kiss physically. I just remember the look in Daniel's eyes as he stepped away: self-loathing, bitter irony, heartbreak, love.

Yeah, love. And ain't that just a kick in the pants? Daniel fucking Jackson loves me.

No consequences, he said. Kinda cool, I thought. Trouble was I didn't think enough. I never do. Because even if nobody else remembers it, not even Teal'c, I do. There are consequences for me.

Daniel is a great guy and I do love him. He's one of the few people in this universe I trust almost unconditionally. He's the only one I've ever talked to about Charlie, and divorcing Sara. He's the only one I've ever cried with and the only one who's ever cried with me. If anyone else had held a gun on me, kneeling in a storeroom hopped up on alien technology, I sure as hell wouldn't have been so blase about just going over and giving him a hug.

But it's Daniel. I don't know any other way to put it. He's just Daniel. And I don't love him that way.

A part of me wishes I could think he was trying to get back at me, that maybe he'd figured out I'd been goofing off too much lately and lost track of reality and that was a wake-up call. Maybe he was pissed at me for trying to kiss him in the first place and he kissed back so I would stop thinking it was only me in that loop.

I can almost make myself believe it, but then I think about his face when he stepped back, and I remember it's Daniel. He doesn't do stuff like that. No, it was real, and he wanted it.

I wonder what I'm supposed to do with that. Am I supposed to tell him? Am I supposed to remember it happened and watch for it whenever we're together? Wait for him to make the move again?

Then I remind myself: it's Daniel. He's a really honest guy usually. If he's been hiding it this well for this long, he probably doesn't want it to come between us. It was my fault for pushing, my fault for catching him by surprise and maybe unintentionally playing into some fantasy and he just didn't have time to think about it.

Because I trust Daniel. If he really wanted me to know, he'd tell me. And not like that, either.

KALEIDESCOPE

The world is not black and white.

Like so many Tau'ri sayings, at first it seems to make no sense. Of course the world is not black and white. If the world were black and white, there would be no color, and as there is most definitely color, then it follows that the world cannot be black and white. Simple on the surface, is it not?

If one delves beneath the surface of such a saying, or has Daniel Jackson explain it, one discovers a cornucopia of meanings. One discovers shades of gray, the slippery scale between morality and corruption, how something can seem so right, and yet looked at from a different point of view, seem so wrong. If considered for too long, the world becomes an endless muddled chaos devoid of reason or sense.

It is a difficult thing to understand, and just watching Daniel Jackson practice it is exhausting. Often I do not think I could survive in a world so lacking in order. How does one not simply fall apart, deprived of such simple things as right and wrong, black and white? Even Major Carter admits that without black and white, there could not be so many shades of colors.

In Jaffa society, there are certain behaviors everyone is expected to follow. Men join either the priesthood in search of wisdom and spiritual guidance, or the armies of their gods in search of salvation and glory. Women marry and have families or become priestesses. Men fight, women defend. Men protect, women nurture. It is the way it has worked for centuries, and the way it will continue for centuries more. It is predictable, perhaps, and back and white, but it has served us well.

Major Carter is not black and white. She is a blaze of color, a mass of contradictions. She is a warrior and a priestess, a mother and a protector. She is hard and soft, warm and ruthless, headstrong and yet follows orders. She is a woman and yet I think if I tried to protect her she would be most offended.

I want to protect her.

I try to convince myself that this desire comes from a lifetime of such expectations, but I have spent too much time with Daniel Jackson and his quest for truth to be successful. She is unique in my experience, and as such must be sheltered.

No. I fall once more into black and white. I want to protect her because... I admire her.

I have no courage. It is love. Not admiration, not a societal expectation, but love. I owe her that distinction, at least.

Like everything else, love is made of color. There is the love I have for O'Neill, which is born of respect, or the love I have for Daniel Jackson, which is frequently exasperation but also a great deal of gratitude. Major Carter made me see color, but Daniel Jackson explained to me what I saw.

The love I have for Major Carter frightens me. It is not something I know well. Shau'nac was the closest I have come to such a feeling - our passion was forbidden, but it still fit an expected mold. We never consummated our love until she had left the temple and I the army of Apophis. We loved, but at a distance as was expected. I married Drey'auc, and Shau'nac stayed in the temple.

Major Carter, like so much about this world, this new life I have, does not fit into such molds. As the saying goes: if she ever had a mold, it was broken after her creation. She does not have labels, she fits in no boxes. She is unique, an irreplaceable blend of color and life and contradiction.

I love her.

ELUSIVE

I'm not being entirely truthful with them. I do remember things. I remember little flashes of things, all jumbled together like three-bean salad.

See? I remember three-bean salad. I even like three-bean salad.

Or is it five-bean?

The problem with it all is I don't have any context. I remember some things I'm pretty sure are true: a barbecue at Jack's, Sam taking me for a ride on her motorcycle, meditating with Teal'c. I remember teaching a girl with long blonde hair and a teenager's disposition how to curse in French as we sat on the floor of her bedroom, surrounded by textbooks. I remember the doctor smoothing my hair back from my forehead as I lay on a gurney.

All this makes sense. These are things that I believe have happened, could happen.

And then I remember other things, like blowing up Moscow. I'm pretty sure I didn't do that.

It's a sliding scale of stuff I remember. There are some things I don't have a problem telling everyone I've gotten back. Translations, those I'm sure of. I get the feeling I've always been sure of those, that maybe sometimes those are the only things I've been sure of. Love I'm pretty sure of. I know I loved Sha're, I know I love Sam and Jack and Teal'c and the teenaged girl and the doctor. The thing is, I remember hating them, too. I remember throwing Jack across my office in rage. I remember sweeping everything off Sam's desk to prove a point, watching the delicate instruments fall to the concrete floor and break apart and the frozen look on her face as I stalked from the room. I remember sending Teal'c to his death.

I remember a white room. I remember being left there. I don't think friends would do that to me.

As soon as I start feeling doubtful, I remember other things, like Jack's face as he knelt before me in a long corridor filled with bodies. My chest was on fire and he reached out to touch my face. There was love in his gesture, and anguish. I think he was leaving me there and I think that was killing him.

I remember Sam bending down to kiss my forehead. She was afraid for me. I was in the hospital bed again. I think I spend a lot of time there.

I remember Teal'c apologizing for something, his face contorted with sorrow. He was afraid I wouldn't forgive him. Actually, I think he was positive I wouldn't. I think I did anyway.

I wouldn't have done that if I didn't care for them, would I?

There are flashes of other things, too. Jack's weight above me, his arms around me, his mouth against mine. Feeling loved, feeling wanted, feeling like I'd finally found my place in the world.

Rolling over in the dark of the night, reaching for someone who wasn't there. Being alone.

I don't know what to believe. I call him Jim in the briefing room and wait for his reaction. He looks sad, a split-second grimace of pain and then he's all business. In the locker room I watch him covertly. I may not remember everything, I say significantly, but I remember enough.

Good, he says perfunctorily, and gives me a professional smile before leaving. Honestly, I think he's just as scared about what I'll remember as I am. I just don't know why.

I know I love him, and I'm pretty sure he loves me, but there are lots of kinds of love and I don't know which kind belongs with him. So for now I wait, and insist I don't remember anything, and really hope I never actually blew up Moscow.

GHOSTS

I told Cassie I didn't believe in ghosts. Actually, I told her there was no such thing, it was all superstition and it was quite all right to turn out the lights and go back to sleep. I stretched the truth a little there, because I know there are ghosts. If that little kid from the Sixth Sense ever came to the SGC he'd probably have a breakdown because he wouldn't be able to go three feet without running into somebody's ghost.

We're all haunted by them, SG-1 more than most. The Colonel is haunted by Charlie, and probably by a lot of other people I don't want to know about. Charlie is the biggest, though. Charlie is the one who stalks his dreams and lurks around galactic corners. Charlie is the darkness in his eyes on late nights around the campfire.

Daniel is haunted by Sha're. So is Teal'c, although like the Colonel he's also haunted by vast legions of the dead the rest of us will never know about. Sha're hovers between them like a phantom, alternately angel and succubus. To some extent, Sha're haunts all of us. She and Daniel were our symbols. Sha're was why we were fighting the Goa'uld. We had to rescue Sha're and give Daniel his happy ending, because if anyone deserved it he did. They did. Sha're is our one great failure.

And me? I have enough ghosts of my own to staff a haunted house. Jolinar lurks under the staircase, Martouf is on the landing staring wistfully at her through the banister. Jonas shrieks from the basement, Narim sighs in the pantry, Mom floats in the kitchen. Orlin makes the lights flicker. It's a regular ghost party in my head.

Sometimes I think it's the ghosts that keep us all together. There are times when it seems like we've drifted so far apart that ghosts are the only things that could ever bridge the gaps. And then there are other times where it feels too crowded and the ghosts are the only thing keeping us apart.

We make an odd foursome. We orbit each other like planets, drawn together but never too close. In closeness lies destruction. The Colonel and I learned that one the hard way. We flirted with proximity, let ourselves be drawn together, and in the process sent Daniel and Teal'c spinning away. Luckily we figured it out in time, or at least soon enough that there wasn't any irreperable damage. Teal'c never said anything, but then he never has to. We could feel his disapproval. None of us told Daniel but I think he knew. He never said anything either.

Two twosomes, one foursome, and four individuals, all bound together by memories and ghosts. Martouf dances with Shau'nac in the living room, Jolinar and Sha're gossip over a magazine in the kitchen, and upstairs Narim tells Charlie endless bedtime stories. A happy little existence, our ghosts have. It never gets boring because there are always more to join the party.

I asked Daniel once if he believed in ghosts. He just smiled and went back to work. I never tried asking the Colonel or Teal'c.

I can't decide if it's fear or love that keeps us together. Fear maybe because if we get far enough apart or close enough together, if we lose that delicate balance, we'll find we're a threesome with one extra ghost. Love because who else but us will understand this crazy dance? We're all we have. On some level, we're all we've ever had.

Sometimes I think I think about this too much, and I should just accept it for what it is: four people who have been through a lot together. But reducing it to that just cheapens it. I mean, we've literally been to hell together. How many people can say that?

Four people who can't exist without each other. Four souls forever linked. Four people who fit together like a puzzle.

Maybe not so cheap, when you put it that way.

THE END