“Welcome back.”
Jack’s smile stayed with Daniel as he turned and gazed up at the huge stone ring looming before him. The Stargate. Chappa’ai. The Portal to All People’s Desires, as Shamda had called it. Daniel looked carefully at the ring, taking in the carved stone glyphs, the inner ring nestling within the outer ring, the powerful power-thingies clamped at each side, the dull red chevron crystals. He smiled, amazed something so old could wield such power over his scrappily recalled life.
Flashes of his memories were continuing to return, filling in the disturbing blanks that had haunted his waking and sleeping hours for the past two moons. Months. Unconnected memories would whiz across his mind; faces unnamed, places half recognized, a bewildering jumble of a life lived in many different ways. Through them all, the massive stone circle featured with enduring prominence, solid and enigmatic. It was surrounded by feelings of expectation and promise, love and loss, the lure of knowledge and adventure.
Daniel’s stomach growled, reminding him of Jack’s promise of dinner. Turning away from the silent portal he left the Gate Room and walked down the corridor, brow furrowed as he tried to recall which coloured stripe on the floor he had been told would lead to food.
“Oh, Daniel?” Jack’s voice carolled to him as he passed the first intersection.
“Jack. Uh, I thought the commissary was this way?”
Jack smiled - he seemed to do that a lot - and unwound himself from his slouch against the wall.
“It is. Before we eat, there’s something we have to do.”
“There is?” Daniel wandered over to his newly found old friend.
“Oh, yes. Walk this way, Doctor Jackson.” Jack flapped an arm out and gathered Daniel to his side, steering him down another corridor. A quick ride up the elevator and they disembarked on another level that looked disturbingly like all the others. Daniel surreptitiously noted the floor number. Twenty-five. Oh, this was where the locker room was. Good, he could do with a change of clothes. Scrambling around air ducts on Goa’uld Hatak vessels could make a guy a bit sticky.
Daniel paused at the doors to the locker room, but Jack smiled again and wrapped a hand around Daniel’s arm, dragging him further down the corridor. They passed a group of doorways, each bearing the symbol of one of the SGC off-world teams. Halfway down the corridor they halted in front of a door. Jack’s smile became broader and broader as they both gazed at the SG-1 symbol decorating the door.
“Each team has its own bathroom?” Daniel asked curiously.
Jack’s expression raced from pride to outrage to resignation in a flash.
“No, Daniel,” he replied with exaggerated patience. “Each team has its own gear-up room. This is SG-1’s gear-up room.”
Jack paused, seeming to wait for some kind of reaction from Daniel.
“Oh. That’s nice. Well, um, I’ll just go change and wait for you, shall I?” Daniel began to edge back down the corridor toward the locker room.
“No, Daniel.” Jack’s tone was soft, understanding, which for some strange reason, seemed to make Daniel rather nervous.
“No?”
Jack pushed the door open and waved expansively for Daniel to enter. “After you.”
Hesitantly, Daniel wandered into the gear-up room. He knew he had been a member of SG-1, that Jonas had replaced him. Now that Jonas had returned to his home, Daniel assumed there was a vacancy in the team, but he did not want to presume that he would automatically fill that vacancy. It was up to Jack, Teal’c and Sam to decide who was to permanently join them.
The room was small-two benches in the middle, in each corner a locker door, an open doorway leading into what looked like the shower rooms on the left-hand side. The door swung shut behind Jack, who once again was affecting that odd beaming smile. Daniel opened his mouth to praise the lovely neat grey appearance of the room, but got no further as the door swung open once more to admit Sam and Teal’c, both bearing grins to match Jack’s and weighed down with armloads of what appeared to be clothing.
Jack dived into the locker bearing his name then returned to stand next to Sam and Teal’c, a black backpack in his hands.
Daniel felt his eyebrows creeping up his forehead, the unsettling feeling that he was about to be subjected to some kind of bizarre initiation rite sinking through him. “What’s up, guys?”
Jack turned to Sam and barked, “All present and correct, Major?”
Sam snapped to attention and bellowed back, “Sir, yes sir. Quarter-master Roberts had everything freshly laundered when he heard, sir.” She grinned at Daniel’s confused expression and fought down yet another wave of disbelieving relief that her friend, confidant, team-mate and co-conspirator in the bamboozlement of colonels, was standing in front of her; whole, healthy and alive.
“Sweet.” Jack turned back to his locker and slid his name plaque out of the slot on the door. Underneath was another name plaque, which he carefully removed and then replaced his own. Turning to Daniel he grasped his friend’s arm and gently led him to the locker in the near left-hand corner. The one with no name on the door.
With a flourish and a twinkle in his eye directed at Teal’c and Sam, Jack slid the name plaque into the empty slot, took a step back and almost seemed to snap to attention.
“Doctor Daniel Jackson, I hereby officially present you with your gear-up locker.”
Daniel’s mouth dropped open as he read the name on the plaque - Dr. Daniel Jackson. A warm flush of pleasure swept through him as he realised his friends, his team-mates, were welcoming him back to his place on SG-1.
“Oh.”
Well, that was eloquent. Try again.
“I, um…” Daniel broke off, wanting so much to belong to these people despite the gaping black holes in his memory.
Jack took pity on the floundering archaeologist, and turned to the rest of his team. “Teal’c, Carter, if you will, please.”
Teal’c stepped forward;. presenting with a slight bow to Daniel the armload of clothing he carried.
“These are your uniforms, Daniel Jackson. They have been well cared for during your absence.” He held out the neatly pressed clothes for Daniel’s scrutiny.
“All those? Mine?” Daniel seemed to be having a bit of trouble taking in what was happening, so Jack came to the rescue. He swept the first three BDU’s from Teal’c’s arms and held them up against Daniel as if checking that the colour didn’t clash with Daniel’s eyes.
Another grin, and the uniforms were swinging on the pole in the locker. “BDU’s, Daniel. Battle Dress Uniform. Olive drab. What every archaeologist is wearing in the outer galaxy these days.”
Jack grabbed the next three sets of jackets and pants from Teal’c and flourished them into the locker.
“Woodland camo - handy for hiding in the trees when it’s your turn to cook.”
The next sets were completely black. “These are for sneaking around in the dark,” Jack chattered on happily.
“We do that a lot?” queried Daniel. As exhilarating as sneaking through Anubis’ ship had been he wasn’t completely sure he wanted a repeat performance any time soon.
“Not that often, Daniel,” Sam assured him. “Although they do come in handy for midnight raids on the commissary.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that, Carter.” Jack shook his head at her and turned back to Teal’c.
The last three uniforms followed their fellows back into their home. “Desert camos - I’m told they’re quite fetching on some of us.” Jack waggled his eyebrows at Daniel and reached to relieve Carter of some of her burden.
Daniel was still trying to get his brain to accept the fact that he seemed to be a full-fledged member of SG-1 once more as Jack delved into the pile of clothing Sam carefully held.
“BDU shorts for those sexy legs, t-shirts; black, olive drab and khaki, long-sleeved tees for the odd ice-age planet, combat vests; black and khaki, boonies; olive, camo and khaki, bandanas; your personal selection in every colour possible, and…” Jack drew out the last word with delight, “a large stack of clean and fluffy unmentionables.” Each article was swiftly and efficiently slotted into its correct drawer in Daniel’s locker.
“And last, but by no means least,” Jack held out his hands to Teal’c who obligingly produced from a sack slung over his shoulder, three pairs of sturdy combat boots, one in brown and two in shiny black.
Jack lined them up in the bottom of the locker with military precision, years of training showing in his ability to leave no fingerprints on the mirror-like polish.
“Nothing worse than trying to break in new boots on a twenty-mile hike.” Jack stepped back, carefully scanning Daniel’s face for his reaction. This is it buddy. You’re back home, where you belong.
Daniel ran his fingers gently down the silk lining of one of the desert camo jackets. It was so familiar, yet still strange. After spending the last two months, moons, months in the comfortable robes of the nomads, the strong, stiff clothing of Earth was taking a while to become used to. The pale, sand colour of the jacket seemed to call to him - a sudden impression of hot desert winds, sand, smiling dark haired faces and large, smelly animals flashed over him. Something… there was something he needed to remember.
“You kept my underwear?” Daniel’s mind bounced over the black hole and back to the present.
Jack’s smile had begun to fade as Daniel’s face grew distant staring at the DCU jacket. His grin surged back, and he gave Daniel a knowing leer. “Well, most of ’em, you know. Carter kept the thongs.”
Sam’s outraged snort drowned out Daniel’s faint, confused “Thongs?” which was mirrored by Teal’c’s interested query of the same word.
Jack deliberately avoided looking at Teal’c. “So, Daniel. You’re all kitted out here, that just leaves us with this.” He turned and picked up the backpack that had been sitting in his locker here for the last fourteen months and five days. A silent reminder of a missing friend, lost opportunities, a strength he hadn’t realised he depended upon until it was no longer there.
Placing the pack on the bench, Jack began unloading it, brandishing each item at Daniel for his inspection.
“Let’s see, we have one digital camera, one digital video camera, one digital sound recorder - all fully loaded and ready to go. We’ll get you a new med-kit from Fraiser. One mess-kit. One compass, one flashlight, and one mini LED light - you usually hung that on your jacket, Daniel. One sewing-kit, one pair of binoculars, and one set of lead pencils and rolls of paper for that rubbing thing you do. And one Jackson Special - your own personal campfire coffee maker. T’, you get the…?”
“Indeed I did, O’Neill.” Teal’c presented Daniel with a large bag of aromatic ground coffee and a smaller bag that brought a grin from Sam. “I also procured chocolate covered coffee beans. I believe you will find them to your liking, Daniel Jackson.”
Daniel accepted the packets with a grin, his nose already twitching at the enticing smell.
Jack carefully withdrew a heavy leather rolled pouch, aged and worn, its brown leather stained in places yet it had obviously been well cared for. Taking the opened bag of chocolate beans from Daniel, Jack placed the pouch in the archaeologist’s hands. “These are your tools, Daniel. You told me they belonged to your mother. I took ‘em home a while ago; cleaned and oiled them. Hope they’re okay.” Dropping his head, Jack muttered to himself, “Don’t know how Jonas got hold of them.”
Daniel sank down on the bench amongst the piles of belongings. Each item was bringing flashes of memories to him. He cradled the pouch in his hands, the leather warm and supple. A sudden vision of his mother’s face came to him, a loving smile and happy blue eyes. Daniel smiled at her memory as he unrolled the pouch. Brushes, probes, chisels of all sizes gleamed up at him. Shiny steel trowels caught the overhead lights. A smaller pouch revealed tiny dental tools, and a memory of his own hand delicately scraping the layers of the ages away from the treasures of the past.
“Wow,” he mumbled through a mouthful of chocolate-coffee beans. With each new item his sense of belonging was being steadily reinforced. “Thanks, Jack. Teal’c, Sam, this is… I remember these, remember using them, remember Mama using them in Egypt.” Daniel looked up at his friends, eyes shining happily.
Jack tilted his head in a deprecating shrug and started to shovel the kit back into Daniel’s pack.
Teal’c bestowed a thoughtful bow of his head to Daniel, pleased that their friend was accepting his place with his team once more. The sense of loss and something essentially wrong with the whole scheme of his life that had been his constant companion since Daniel Jackson’s ascension was finally filtering away, being replaced by a contentment with life in general that Teal’c was finding most acceptable.
Sam leaned forward and pressed a rather battered glasses case into Daniel’s hand. “Daniel, these are your spare glasses, and the clip-on sunglasses.” The glasses had been sitting in her office ever since Daniel’s departure, a constant reminder of the loved face that had worn them.
“Thanks, Sam.”
Sam couldn’t keep the smile off her face. It felt as if she had been smiling non-stop since that first look at Daniel’s tanned, lost and confused face. She reached out and fondly patted his head, admiring again the sun-bleached golden highlights of his hair.
“Oh! Sir, I nearly forgot.” Sam fumbled around in her pockets and produced the final piece of equipment. “The new P-38’s have just come in. Quarter-Master issued the very first one for Daniel.”
“Really? Cool.” Jack reached out and took the item from Carter;, reverently examining its sleek new design.
“Is that a new weapon?” asked Daniel curiously.
Jack flashed an eager grin at Daniel. “Nope, even better. This, my friend, is your most valuable piece of equipment. Always keep it with you; never, ever give it up to the enemy. Treat it right and it’ll see you through the toughest mission.” He fondled the P-38, already plotting what bribery it would take to get Roberts to give up the next ones to the rest of his team.
Daniel strained forward, trying to see the small object clutched covetously in the Colonel’s hands. “Wanna share with the rest of the kids, Jack?”
Reluctantly, Jack passed it over. “Okay, but you gotta promise to take care of it. Hear?”
Well, it was certainly very shiny. Metal. Shiny. Had a pointy bit at one end. Did he mention shiny?
“Um, thanks. I think.”
“Oh, for crying out loud,” Jack made to snatch it back but missed. Daniel’s reflexes were certainly better than they used to be.
Sam came to the rescue. “Daniel, it’s a can-opener. The latest model. Guaranteed to last a hundred years.”
“A can-opener?” Gee, thanks.
“Hey, don’t knock it. A field-unit marches on its stomach, you know.” Jack couldn’t help feel a bit forgiving to the uneducated civilian. “You’ll appreciate it when you’re stuck on some god-forsaken planet, pinned down by the enemy and all you have to eat is canned food.”
Another sudden flash of memory assailed Daniel. His mouth dropped open and he looked up at Jack. “Tastes like chicken!”
Jack looked down at his friend, an amazing feeling of joy surging through him. Daniel was back where he belonged, back with his team, his family, on the planet that needed him most. The team was whole once again and Jack felt a confidence in himself that had been missing for quite some time. He reached out and gently squeezed the back of Daniel’s neck.
“Exactly.” Okay, time to lighten the mood before one of them burst into song or something. “And speaking of food, reservations are for nineteen-hundred. Time to go, kids.”
Daniel placed the re-stocked pack in his locker and shut the door. He turned and followed the others to the door.
“Where are we headed, sir?” queried Sam.
“That new fancy Italian place on Main, Palliacci or something.” Jack held the door for his team as they trooped out, headed for the locker rooms.
“Nice. Your treat, sir?”
“Are you nuts, Carter? You know how much they charge?” Jack cast an outraged look at his 2IC. “Daniel’s paying.”
“I am?” Daniel wasn’t completely sure of the price of restaurant food at the moment, but was pretty sure the few dollars in his wallet were not going to provide much of a meal.
“Oh, yeah! You’ve got fourteen-some months of back pay coming to you, Daniel.” Jack clapped Daniel on the back and ushered him into the locker room. “It’s the least you can do. Besides, it’s a team rule-whoever returns from the dead gets to treat the rest of us to dinner.”
“Oh? Really?” Daniel frowned at Jack. “I’m sure I don’t remember that…”
“Trust me, Daniel. I’ll never steer you wrong.”
“Okay, Jim.”
Jack paused in the doorway, watching his team.
"Welcome home, Daniel," he whispered. "Welcome home."
.oOo.