FIC: Transliteration 9 - From The Mouths of Babes by Catsmeow

Nov 02, 2007 12:38


Another tale from the Transliteration universe where Daniel has been downsized to a toddler (currently about 24 months old) with Jack as his guardian.  This gen story is 3,007 words long and has been rated PG-13 for a couple of those words.

Synopsis:  Daniel's paying more attention than Jack realized.

From the Mouths of Babes

by Catsmeow

Thanks to the new stroller, Jack and Daniel now had a routine. Well, kind of. Without a set day and time it wasn't a true routine.  However, whenever Jack's schedule allowed, instead of starting from the house and circling the neighborhood for his daily jog, Jack would load Daniel, the stroller, snacks, drinks, toys, and the diaper bag into his truck and drive to the large park about twenty minutes away. There were walking paths, running paths, woods, greenways, picnic areas, ball fields and playgrounds. Whether it was afternoon or morning, weekday or weekend, it was a pleasant way to get his daily exercise and give Daniel an outing.

This particular Saturday was a beautiful autumn morning; chilly enough to bundle up but with the promise of warm sunshine later.  Perfect day to be outdoors. Jack tossed a sweat suit over his short sleeved t-shirt and gym shorts then dressed Daniel in long pants, with a long sleeved t-shirt and a fleece jacket. He'd become quite efficient at piling the stroller and supplies in the truck.  It wasn't long before they were at what Jack had come to think of as 'their' park.

It only took a minute to unpack the truck and get the stroller set up.  As he put Daniel in the stroller, Jack tied the strings of Daniel's hood, zipped the boy's sweat jacket, and tucked a crib blanket over his knees. Turning away for a second, Jack rummaged in the diaper bag for Daniel's mittens.  When he turned back, the blanket was crumpled up at Daniel's feet on the floor of the stroller.  Daniel gazed serenely at him, binky bobbing lazily, little hands resting quietly on his knees.

Huh.  He didn't think the wind was that bad. Really, it was breezy at most. Jack replaced the blanket, tucking it securely behind Daniel.  As he did, he accidentally dropped one of the mittens on the ground and bent to retrieve it.  Shaking the dirt off of the mitten, he reached for Daniel's hand and saw the blanket crumpled up around Daniel's feet on the floor of the stroller.  Daniel's hood was down as well.  The boy gazed serenely at him, binky bobbing lazily, little hands resting quietly on his knees. He was the very picture of innocence, but Jack knew better.

"Leave the blanket alone."  Suiting actions to words, Jack stuffed the mittens in his pocket, freeing his hands to replace the blanket.

Daniel lifted his arms to allow Jack to arrange the blanket across his lap.  One hand went all the way up to pull the binky out.  "Too hot, Jack."

Ah.  So that was it.  "You might be a little warm right now, sport, but once we get going, the breeze will be very cold."

Jack tugged the hood back up though it stuck when he tried dragging it over the ears. He had to untie the string and start over. Daniel's brows pinched together in a frown.  Jack pretended to fuss with his own sneakers while watching the boy closely with his peripheral vision. Sure enough, there was stealthy movement.  His hand whipped out to hold Daniel's in place, stopping it partway through the third round of Toss The Blanket.

Jack's eyes narrowed as he admonished Daniel. "I said, leave the blanket alone."

Daniel's eyes narrowed in return, brows clenching.  "But I don't want it."

"It's going to get colder when we start running.  Remember? This will keep you warm." Luckily for Jack, the fitful breeze chose that moment to gust up, brushing over them with an icy chill. He could see the moment Daniel reluctantly decided to cooperate.  "Good boy," he said approvingly.

Releasing the tiny wrist, he rubbed his hand over Daniel's head, but a hair ruffle just wasn't the same over a fleece hood. Jack pulled the mittens from his pocket, sorted them out and reached for Daniel's wrist again.  Daniel snatched his hand away.

"No, mittens are too hot." The frown was back.

"Daniel," Jack said patiently, "we just went over this. It's going to be colder in a minute."

"But you said the blanket was for colder." The little brows shifted from frowning to confused.

"Yes, the blanket is for colder, but you need the mittens, too."

"But I don't want mittens." The plaintive little voice tugged at Jack's heartstrings. "The blanket keeps me warm. You said so."

"I know, honey," Jack explained as he gently gripped Daniel's hand, "but it only covers part of you. You need something to keep your hands warm, too."

Daniel clenched his hand into tiny fists, thumbs well-hidden inside them.  The brows were wrinkling up again, only this time they were pouting.  "No mittens."

Ignoring him, Jack determinedly wrestled a red mitten over one fist as Daniel kept trying to pull his hand away, wiggling just enough to defeat Jack's efforts. Jack stopped to regroup then tried again. More uncooperative tussling ensued although Jack was very careful not to be rough with the boy. Now, how in the world could Daniel keep his fist clenched tightly the whole time yet still manage to end up with half of his fingers outside of the mitten?  He stopped again, frowning at Daniel.  Daniel scowled back.

Jack was a Colonel in the Air Force, for crying out loud.  One of the elite special ops soldiers.  He'd commanded a variety of hard ass tough guys in his time, always coming out on top. He was an alpha male, dammit, a leader, the guy in charge. He said "jump" and people scrambled to obey. Yet one little toddler had him at a standstill.  How very disconcerting. Jack should have remembered that Daniel Jackson was more stubborn than any three people combined, even if one of those three people was Jack. Obviously that held true for the pint-sized version, too. So Jack was concerned about his boy's well being.  Was that so bad?  Daniel's face was flushed and damp from the exertion. A tiny drop of moisture trickled down his temple following the puckered edge of the hood. Okay, he grudgingly admitted, so Daniel might have a point about being too warm.

"Tell you what, sport," sighed Jack, "for now, why don't you pull your hands up into your sleeves and hold the ends closed?  That'll keep your hands warm too.  I'll put the mittens here," he slipped them under the blanket, "so they'll be in easy reach in case you need them. Okay?"

Daniel mulled over the proposition, sucking thoughtfully on the binky.  With a loud smacking sound, the binky came to a halt.  Daniel gave him a thumbs up before turtling his hands up into his sleeves.

Thank heavens for compromise.  Now they could finally get going.  Jack jogged the pathways for awhile, peeling layers off as he heated up from the exercise.  Soon he was dressed just in his t-shirt and gym shorts. For the most part, he stayed with the running paths winding through the woods.  The surface was dirt, but the path was flat.  The stroller, with its alloy wheels and suspended carriage, rolled smoothly along the ground.  By the time they stopped at the busy playground he judged the air temperature warm enough to let Daniel loose with his hood down and his jacket unzipped.

In the couple of weeks since Jack had been bringing Daniel here, he'd found that there were weekday regulars and weekend regulars though he hadn't interacted with anyone much beyond superficial greetings. Most of the benches around the busy playground were full, but Jack spotted an opening on a bench near the sandbox. A familiar-looking woman sat on one end of it.  What was her name?  Rhoda? Rhonda? No, Ronnie. That was it. He had talked to her in passing last weekend.

"Hi, Ronnie.  Looks like the place is pretty full up.  Do you mind sharing?"

"Not at all."  She moved her purse over to make more room on the bench. "It's Jeff, isn't it?"

"Jack," he corrected with a smile.  With a little maneuvering, the stroller fit between their bench and the next one over with enough space left over for people to pass through.

"Now, his name I remember," Ronnie said, smiling at the boy as Jack lifted him from the stroller. "Hi, Daniel." She waved her fingers.  Daniel grinned around his binky and waved back. "You've just got the one, right?" she asked Jack.

Jack nodded, automatically tamping down the little ache that flared up anytime someone asked if he had children. How do you answer questions like that after your child has died?  Technically, the answer would be no, he didn't have children- not anymore.  But that answer felt too much like denying Charlie's existence, which he couldn't bear to do.  Yet, telling the full truth was painful for Jack and made the person inquiring feel badly for asking what is usually a harmless question. Every time that question came up there was an awkward pause as he tried to figure out the right reply. At least now he could answer without hesitating because Daniel was very much his kid.  "Yes, it's just me and Daniel.  You have a couple of kids, right?"

"Yep," she nodded proudly.  "Bob and I have four rug rats - three boys and a girl.  He's got two of them over at the soccer field and I have the two little ones over here.  We'll meet for lunch after the games are over."

"Jack?  Can I go play now?" Anxious blue eyes looked up at him.

"Sure thing, sport." He hadn't really been dawdling but a few minutes delay felt like eternity to a toddler who was waiting to play.

Jack grabbed something out of the diaper bag then took Daniel by the hand and walked him over to the sand box on the edge of the playground nearest the benches. He got Daniel settled, then gathered a variety of rocks from around the playground, put them in the sandbox and covered them up. He handed Daniel a couple of small cheap paint brushes that had been packed especially for this and let the boy 'excavate' while Jack sat over on the benches making small talk with Ronnie and some of the other parents nearby.

Jack wasn't surprised that she remembered Daniel.  Everyone did.  He was a beautiful little boy, attracting attention wherever they went. Beyond his looks, there was his advanced development.  Linguistically, mentally, even his fine motor skills - all were leaps and bounds ahead of any other child of a comparable age.  There was the usual delicately phrased question as to whether Daniel was his son or his grandson.  Jack put forth the established cover story - Daniel was the son of friends in the diplomatic corps who had been posted to a foreign country that was known for its unrest and were concerned about bringing Daniel.  The boy had been placed under Jack's guardianship until they returned.

"Hey, Jack!"

Interrupting his conversation, Jack faced Daniel who was standing in the sandbox, twenty feet away at the edge of the playground.  Evidently he felt like exercising his lungs as well as his stubby little muscles today. The high pitched voice was musical even at full volume. The boy held a paint brush in one hand, wiping the bristles clean against his pant leg, leaving streaky smudges on his jeans.  His binky was in his other hand giving everyone a perfect view of his sweet angelic face.  All around him, the women visibly melted at the inescapable adorableness that was Daniel.  Jack swore the rising estrogen levels were nearly palpable. The level of approving glances flicking Jack's way also rose and he couldn't help puffing up a little with pride.

"Yes, Daniel?"  Jack beamed indulgently, raising his voice slightly to cross the distance.

Daniel drew in another deep breath to shout again.  "Is it time for beer yet?"

"What?" Jack was too startled for a more coherent reply.  In his peripheral vision he could see eyebrows flying up and mouths dropping open as heads slowly swiveled to stare at him.

"I like the Guinness, best, don't I Jack?" A cheerful smile made Daniel look positively cherubic.

"No, you do NOT like Guinness," Jack said firmly.  Actually, Adult Daniel did like Guinness.  He was the one who had introduced Jack to the brew.  Was this another memory coming forward?  It didn't have the same eerie quality as the recollection of Shifu, though.  If it wasn't a memory, then what...oh.  Crap.  Yesterday.  This was a direct result of yesterday.

The only thing worse than being stuck in a meeting was being stuck in a budget meeting, and Jack had been stuck in budget meetings all damn day. He'd only managed to snag half of half a sandwich for lunch and was tired, irritable, and frustrated when he came to Teal'c's quarters. He just wanted to pick up Daniel and sign out for the night.

Jack slung Daniel onto his hip, letting out a long sigh as he did. "Man, I'm beat.  What a long damn day."

Handing him the boy's diaper bag, Teal'c said, "It is time for dinner.  You will feel better after you have returned to your dwelling and consumed your evening meal."

Jack shook his head.  "After a day like this, T-man, it's time for beer." He was only half joking.  He was looking forward to a quiet dinner but he also intended to have a beer or two as he watched the hockey game. Noticing Daniel eyeing him, little brows furrowed, Jack pasted a tired smile on his face.  "Guinness is the best, right Daniel?" He tickled the boy's chest and made him giggle, chasing the frown away.  He took his leave of Teal'c and headed home, grateful it was Friday.

Yep.  That's exactly where Daniel's comments had come from. Mentally, Jack cursed himself for having a Questionable Parenting Moment. He shouldn't have joked about beer with the boy.

"I don't like Guinness?" Daniel's face twisted up into that puzzled look that made him look even cuter.

"No," Jack repeated evenly, "you don't."  He knew better than to make a fuss that would leave an impression. The best way to make a kid forget something was to act as though it didn't matter. "You like water and formula.  Would you like some water?"

Daniel scrunched up his face, tickling his chin with the paint brush as he thought over the offer.  "Nuh-uh."  Popping his binky back in, he squatted down in the sandbox resuming his excavations.

"Daniel?"

The boy looked up.

"Manners?"

Daniel pulled the binky out just long enough to say "No, thank you, Jack", and went back to playing.

There was a very unladylike snort from the other end of the bench.  Jack looked over to see Ronnie suppressing a big smile.  Jack sighed.  "Please," he said sardonically as one hand waved invitingly, "don't hold back on my account."

"Sorry," she laughed, "but it was just so funny!"

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm glad you think so.  I'm pretty sure she's considering calling the child welfare authorities."

He inclined his head indicating a woman a few benches away where a woman sat staring at him.  She looked to be in her early thirties and was way overdressed for the playground. She would have fit right in at a business luncheon. There was a disapproving frown on her face, and her hand kept inching toward her cell phone, then inching away as though she couldn't make up her mind.

Ronnie rolled her eyes.  "Don't worry about her.  That's Mindy.  She's a newly minted Yuppie with a one-year old and thinks she knows everything there is about being a parent, nobody else knows anything at all and she takes everything WAY too seriously.  Too bad she's teaching her boy to be an uptight hypochondriac like she is."

"Gotcha." He paused a moment then clarified, "I hope you know that I've never let Daniel have beer.  He heard me talking about it, that's all."

"Trust, me.  I understand.  Back when I was pregnant with that one," she pointed at her youngest on the merry-go-round, "I already had three kids under seven.  At church one Sunday, the screen door leading from the Sunday School to the play ground area broke and was going to be replaced. My oldest, Robbie, told the Sunday School teacher they should use a diaphragm instead.  Well, the teacher was flummoxed. Asked him why he would say such a thing.  Robbie said, 'I heard my mom tell Daddy that her diaphragm worked just as well as a screen door.'  Needless to say," she laughed, "I had a little talk with him about not repeating things mommy and daddy say."

Jack chuckled, grateful to Ronnie for reminding him that things like this happened to everyone and that it could have been worse than a comment about beer.  Much worse.  "Oh, yeah.  Little pitchers have big ears."

She grinned in agreement, adding "And even bigger mouths."

A man from the bench directly to the left spoke up spoke up, launching into a similar tale. Soon the group on that side of the playground was swapping stories.  Relaxing, Jack molded himself against the wooden slats of the bench, content to listen to the chattering and laughter around him as he watched Daniel play.

Jack had missed so many days like this with his first child. He had spent most of Charlie's childhood away on missions, keeping the world safe for a son he rarely got to see.  When he was home, if he wasn't convalescing, he wanted to do something special with Charlie - ball games, picnics, fishing, the zoo, you name it. This time around he was learning that even the most ordinary of days was special as long as he and Daniel were together.  The memory of this day, spent sitting idly in the warm sun as his boy played happily in the dirt, would be one he would always cherish.

Finis

gen, sg-1, fic, little daniel, transliteration

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