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"Anvil" (SG-1 ficlet for Fig)
Anvil
By Lokei
Rating: PG, gen
Universe: SG-1, Teal’c and Daniel friendship
Author’s Note: for sg_fignewton , for the Fall Fandom Free For All, and for her birthday. Happy Birthday, Fig! An episode tag to “Thor’s Hammer.”
= = = =
A week after SG-1 returns from Cimmeria, Teal’c goes looking for Daniel Jackson. He finds him in his office, despite the late hour. Though they have only been teammates a relatively short time, short even in the life of a human, let alone a Jaffa, Teal’c feels he knows the scholar well enough that this does not surprise him.
There are certain things, however, about Daniel Jackson that Teal’c finds very difficult to understand at all. Thus, after allowing a period in which Daniel Jackson might choose to seek him out, which he did not, Teal’c has determined he must ask the question which has puzzled him these many days.
“May I enter, Daniel Jackson?”
The archaeologist looks up at him with something like surprise. Though they have spent much time working together on improving Daniel Jackson’s grasp of the dialects of Goa’uld which Teal’c knows, they do not ‘hang out’ the way O’Neill and Daniel Jackson do, or the way O’Neill has recently been attempting with Teal’c himself.
“Sure, Teal’c.”
Teal’c searches for any distress in the other man’s expressive face, but can find nothing but curiosity, and so he enters. He suspects the distress will arrive soon enough.
“I wish to thank you for firing upon the Asgard device on Cimmeria.”
He watches Daniel Jackson closely and sees the flinch which the other tries hard to hide with a nervous gesture, reaching for his coffee mug.
“You don’t need to thank me, Teal’c. I’m going to refill this, can I get you anything?” He waves at the tiny refrigerator upon which sits a coffee maker.
Teal’c declines politely. “I believe the supplies which O’Neill puts in your refrigeration device are meant for you.”
“I think they’re meant for Jack, actually, but ostensibly he does mean for me to eat some of them.” The other man smiles, a quickly passing impish expression that reminds Teal’c painfully of his son, lost to silence but not forgotten.
Teal’c is not interested in pursuing further Tau’ri small talk today. He understands that the situation was painful for Daniel Jackson, being forced to choose between his teammate and his wife, even in her absence. What he does not understand is what he seeks now.
“May I ask you a question?”
Daniel Jackson looks at him over the rim of the mug, and his face is much harder to read without the clues provided by his lips. If this were O’Neill, Teal’c would be expecting a joke-‘you just did’ is the colonel’s standard answer, but the archaeologist is rarely so flippant, and he merely nods acquiescence.
“Why did you disable the Hammer?”
The hand holding the mug trembles and Daniel Jackson puts it down carefully, folding his hands and looking at the tabletop. “Jack gave an order.”
“I have perceived that there are many instances in which you will not readily comply with O’Neill’s wishes,” Teal’c observes calmly. “And were this my command, I would never have asked a man to free one who was responsible for the enslavement of his wife. He should not have asked you.”
The archaeologist shakes his head and stares at the books along the wall. “No, he did exactly what he had to do. If it were anyone else who had destroyed the Hammer, I would have been able to blame them and just stew over yet another boneheaded military decision.” There is a long pause and the scholar seems to think he has just said something offensive, because he colors and stammers out an apology.
Teal’c restrains a smile. In many ways, he too disagreed with the decision to destroy the Hammer, though selfishly he prefers his room at the SGC to the labyrinth, if he must spend his days under the weight of stone. It is good that Daniel Jackson feels comfortable enough in his presence to speak his mind, and that is enough to offset the sting of his welfare being secondary to the archaeologist’s other concerns.
“Then you agree that O’Neill’s decision to hand you my staff weapon was not your only reason to fire.”
The chuckle which emanates from the younger man has little mirth to it. “I didn’t think I said any such thing, but you’re right. I didn’t do it because Jack asked. I did it because you didn’t.”
Teal’c raises an eyebrow, and for the first time since he entered the office, Daniel Jackson meets his eyes.
“You didn’t ask me to get you out of there. You offered to stay. And if you wouldn’t ask for the certainty of your release, I certainly couldn’t ask you to stay there on the vague possibility that we’ll eventually be able to find Sha’re, separate her from Apophis, and bring her to Cimmeria. That could be years. I don’t know a lot of people who would offer to stay on a slim hope like that, Teal’c. I’m not sure I could have, I know that much. I’m not that good a person.”
Teal’c considers Daniel Jackson’s words carefully. “In my first few weeks on SG-1, I inquired of O’Neill why he allowed someone who was not a trained warrior on his team. He told me that when you both were brought before Ra on Abydos, you threw yourself in front of a staff blast to protect O’Neill. I have no doubt of the worth of your person, Daniel Jackson. And though it may be, as you say, a vague possibility, I will promise you that with any power I possess I will try to reunite you with Sha’re.”
Daniel Jackson tips his head to one side and he nods gravely. Then his lips twitch and he picks up his coffee mug just a fraction of a second too late to hide his smile. “That will be easier to do now that you’re not stuck under a mountain whose only exit has a symbiote-killing machine in the lintel.”
Teal’c raises both eyebrows. “Indeed.”
Looking re-energized, the scholar pulls over a stack of photographs and motions to the seat beside him. “If you’ve got a few minutes, Teal’c, I’ve been saving these to go over with you.”
Behind Daniel Jackson’s back, Teal’c smiles.
By Lokei
Rating: PG, gen
Universe: SG-1, Teal’c and Daniel friendship
Author’s Note: for sg_fignewton , for the Fall Fandom Free For All, and for her birthday. Happy Birthday, Fig! An episode tag to “Thor’s Hammer.”
= = = =
A week after SG-1 returns from Cimmeria, Teal’c goes looking for Daniel Jackson. He finds him in his office, despite the late hour. Though they have only been teammates a relatively short time, short even in the life of a human, let alone a Jaffa, Teal’c feels he knows the scholar well enough that this does not surprise him.
There are certain things, however, about Daniel Jackson that Teal’c finds very difficult to understand at all. Thus, after allowing a period in which Daniel Jackson might choose to seek him out, which he did not, Teal’c has determined he must ask the question which has puzzled him these many days.
“May I enter, Daniel Jackson?”
The archaeologist looks up at him with something like surprise. Though they have spent much time working together on improving Daniel Jackson’s grasp of the dialects of Goa’uld which Teal’c knows, they do not ‘hang out’ the way O’Neill and Daniel Jackson do, or the way O’Neill has recently been attempting with Teal’c himself.
“Sure, Teal’c.”
Teal’c searches for any distress in the other man’s expressive face, but can find nothing but curiosity, and so he enters. He suspects the distress will arrive soon enough.
“I wish to thank you for firing upon the Asgard device on Cimmeria.”
He watches Daniel Jackson closely and sees the flinch which the other tries hard to hide with a nervous gesture, reaching for his coffee mug.
“You don’t need to thank me, Teal’c. I’m going to refill this, can I get you anything?” He waves at the tiny refrigerator upon which sits a coffee maker.
Teal’c declines politely. “I believe the supplies which O’Neill puts in your refrigeration device are meant for you.”
“I think they’re meant for Jack, actually, but ostensibly he does mean for me to eat some of them.” The other man smiles, a quickly passing impish expression that reminds Teal’c painfully of his son, lost to silence but not forgotten.
Teal’c is not interested in pursuing further Tau’ri small talk today. He understands that the situation was painful for Daniel Jackson, being forced to choose between his teammate and his wife, even in her absence. What he does not understand is what he seeks now.
“May I ask you a question?”
Daniel Jackson looks at him over the rim of the mug, and his face is much harder to read without the clues provided by his lips. If this were O’Neill, Teal’c would be expecting a joke-‘you just did’ is the colonel’s standard answer, but the archaeologist is rarely so flippant, and he merely nods acquiescence.
“Why did you disable the Hammer?”
The hand holding the mug trembles and Daniel Jackson puts it down carefully, folding his hands and looking at the tabletop. “Jack gave an order.”
“I have perceived that there are many instances in which you will not readily comply with O’Neill’s wishes,” Teal’c observes calmly. “And were this my command, I would never have asked a man to free one who was responsible for the enslavement of his wife. He should not have asked you.”
The archaeologist shakes his head and stares at the books along the wall. “No, he did exactly what he had to do. If it were anyone else who had destroyed the Hammer, I would have been able to blame them and just stew over yet another boneheaded military decision.” There is a long pause and the scholar seems to think he has just said something offensive, because he colors and stammers out an apology.
Teal’c restrains a smile. In many ways, he too disagreed with the decision to destroy the Hammer, though selfishly he prefers his room at the SGC to the labyrinth, if he must spend his days under the weight of stone. It is good that Daniel Jackson feels comfortable enough in his presence to speak his mind, and that is enough to offset the sting of his welfare being secondary to the archaeologist’s other concerns.
“Then you agree that O’Neill’s decision to hand you my staff weapon was not your only reason to fire.”
The chuckle which emanates from the younger man has little mirth to it. “I didn’t think I said any such thing, but you’re right. I didn’t do it because Jack asked. I did it because you didn’t.”
Teal’c raises an eyebrow, and for the first time since he entered the office, Daniel Jackson meets his eyes.
“You didn’t ask me to get you out of there. You offered to stay. And if you wouldn’t ask for the certainty of your release, I certainly couldn’t ask you to stay there on the vague possibility that we’ll eventually be able to find Sha’re, separate her from Apophis, and bring her to Cimmeria. That could be years. I don’t know a lot of people who would offer to stay on a slim hope like that, Teal’c. I’m not sure I could have, I know that much. I’m not that good a person.”
Teal’c considers Daniel Jackson’s words carefully. “In my first few weeks on SG-1, I inquired of O’Neill why he allowed someone who was not a trained warrior on his team. He told me that when you both were brought before Ra on Abydos, you threw yourself in front of a staff blast to protect O’Neill. I have no doubt of the worth of your person, Daniel Jackson. And though it may be, as you say, a vague possibility, I will promise you that with any power I possess I will try to reunite you with Sha’re.”
Daniel Jackson tips his head to one side and he nods gravely. Then his lips twitch and he picks up his coffee mug just a fraction of a second too late to hide his smile. “That will be easier to do now that you’re not stuck under a mountain whose only exit has a symbiote-killing machine in the lintel.”
Teal’c raises both eyebrows. “Indeed.”
Looking re-energized, the scholar pulls over a stack of photographs and motions to the seat beside him. “If you’ve got a few minutes, Teal’c, I’ve been saving these to go over with you.”
Behind Daniel Jackson’s back, Teal’c smiles.