Archive: M&A, Rauhnee's archive list, my page
http://www.shadowynd.com/~elaynas_den/index.html
Category: Fourth in the Stargate Jedi series. Crossover. Drama.
I recommend that you read the stories in order, as I'm both
making references to prior events and laying strands for the
future. :)
Summary: The Jedi's first day on Earth.
Dedicated: To Mre, for making me laugh when I desperately
needed it.
Thanks: Deep bows of appreciation to Cincoflex for the
astrology insights and to Allen and Rauhnee for the extensive
betaing.
Feedback: Please. This is an unusual type of story, an
experiment in character interactions with little plot and an
almost negligible amount of smut. It would be nice to know if
you enjoy it and would like to see similar 'the boys on Earth
interacting with Stargate folks' stories in the future.
Note: Takes place immediately following my story "For Love and
Duty" and before the Stargate SG-1 episode "Forever In A Day."
Formatting Note: Telepathy is begun with separated backslashes
and ended with a double backslash to avoid problems with
wordprocessing programs that turn two sets of double
backslashes into a hyperlink.
Spoilers: None for Phantom Menace; scattered ones through third
season for Stargate SG-1.
Disclaimer: The boys belong to the all mighty George Lucas,
Stargate SG-1 to Double Secret Productions, Gekko, Showtime,
MGM, whomever...
"General Hammond, on behalf of the Jedi, I bring a gift to
you." Qui-Gon Jinn reached into his duffel bag and brought out
a signal device. "The Jedi are wise enough to learn from the
wisdom of others," he commented wryly. "We are negotiating with
the Kalistan government to place an iris over the Stargate in
our universe to prevent the Goa'uld possessing Zly's body from
returning. Obi-Wan and I have one signal device for our trip
home, but the Jedi Council would like you to retain the ability
to visit us."
General Hammond nodded in response to the Jedi's words. "We
appreciate your trust," he said, taking the device, "and you
can be certain this device will be protected."
Doctor Frasier entered the gateroom during this conversation.
She announced herself by stepping forward. "Well, gentlemen, I
guess you're mine now."
Surprised at the doctor's statement, Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan
who answered his unspoken question, "Military regulations,
Master. All new personnel to the base must have a complete
physical."
"I don't understand, Master Jinn," Hammond asked. "I thought
you and Obi-Wan were bonded." The General turned instinctively
to Daniel Jackson. Like Qui-Gon, he tended to seek knowledge
from his own people.
Obi-Wan turned to look at Daniel as well. The two had been
bonded briefly and each remembered much of what the other knew
or was likely to say. The scientist explained, "The two are
bonded, General. They can communicate telepathically, but that
doesn't mean they share every thought. It would be
disorienting, always having someone in your mind and always
being in his."
"Yes," the Jedi Master affirmed. "Obi-Wan and I keep our mental
shields up the majority of the time in order to function. I
know more about Earth than Teal'c could have when he arrived,
but I prefer to access Obi-Wan's Earth memories as little as
possible since I must invade Daniel's privacy to do so."
The Jedi smiled apologetically at Daniel, who shrugged. The
bonding between scientist and Padawan occurred accidentally and
so quickly that being able to remember Obi-Wan's entire life
seemed a natural part of his mind. While Daniel was mildly
uncomfortable that his thoughts could be accessed by a third
person, that concern was mainly negated by Obi-Wan's
overwhelming trust and respect for his Master.
Obi-Wan inserted, "General? Would you please send all our
Special Services Status paperwork to me? I'll fill out the
forms for Qui-Gon and I."
"Paperwork?" Qui-Gon asked bemusedly.
For the first time, Colonel Jack O'Neill entered the
conversation. "Military paperwork. Truly one of the joys of
life. You have a lot of - oh - fascinating - experiences before
you, Qui-Gon." Out of consideration for the Jedi's ignorance of
Earth, Jack added, "Just remember: Generals have Colonels who
have Majors who have Captains who have Lieutenants who have
Sergeants who have... well, 'Padawans' in your case, to fill
out the forms. We call that 'Chain of Command.'"
Before the Colonel could continue his sarcastic discourse on
military life, the General ordered, "Doctor Frasier, the
physical exam. Colonel, arrange quarters for our new team
members. I'm sure Obi-Wan can explain our paperwork to Qui-Gon.
Dr. Jackson, establish a background for the Jedi. We can't have
them telling any outsiders that their place of birth is
'Parallel Universe.'" Orders issued, Hammond strode out of the
gate-room trailed by his staff initiating his directives.
In the infirmary, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan sat on examining tables,
dressed in medical gowns, bare legs dangling. To avoid
disturbing Dr. Frasier's concentration, they communicated
telepathically as she pulled Obi-Wan's medical file and began
creating a folder for Qui-Gon.
/ /You were right, Obi-Wan. Not invading Daniel's privacy was
the correct explanation to give for my lack of Earth
knowledge.//
Dr. Frasier pressed a cold stethoscope to Qui-Gon's chest.
Obi-Wan got his Master's short chill as he replied. / /The
General is extremely protective of personal freedom -- to the
extent that he can be and still fulfill his military duties.
Besides, "I want to judge Earth without being influenced by
Daniel's personal prejudices" would not have been well
received.// Obi-Wan's mind touch was dry.
Aware of Obi-Wan's conflicting feelings on the subject, Qui-Gon
choose not to pursue the issue further, instead querying, /
/Paperwork? Can't we help them without filling out forms?//
Obi-Wan grinned at Qui-Gon's plaintive tone. The Republic
government, as well as the governments for most individual
planets in the Republic, were dominated by unwieldy
bureaucracies. While the Jedi managed to streamline their own
personal paperwork, all Jedi negotiators were intimately
familiar with wading through reams of treaties, contracts, and
similar documents. Though highly skilled at the task, few Jedi
particularly enjoyed it. / /No, Master. This may be a top
secret, classified installation, but the military thrives on
documents. Regulations must be obeyed. Besides, the General
will arrange documents so we can get social security numbers
and be paid. That's why he told Daniel to establish a
background.//
The Master was surprised at the glee in his Padawan's thought.
/ /Paid? I've never seen you happy at the thought of credits,
Obi-Wan.//
/ /They say money, Master. Money, bucks, dollars, moola, the
green stuff, dinero. Credit cards, plastic.//
/ /Yes, Obi-Wan// thought Qui-Gon, refusing to be sidetracked
by a lesson in slang, //but why this interest?//
/ /SG-1 has had little success in retrieving Daniel's wife or
her brother in the last three years. We may be located here a
long time before we capture Zly. There are beautiful places on
this planet. I'd like to take you to some, to travel through
the peaceful forests of this state, make love to you in a
meadow surrounded by evergreen trees. We could visit Egypt and
make love in the sand dunes, the heat baking our bodies.//
Janet adjusted the sphygmomanometer on Qui-Gon's arm, pumping
it full of air.
The fire in their eyes burned hotter as Master and Padawan
stared at each other. Qui-Gon became increasingly mesmerized by
the visual images Obi-Wan created. / /Hammond will insist on
vacations. He understands the need for relaxation. We'll
require travel money. And I would like another motorcycle
excursion. I see you in a brown leather jacket... and chaps
hugging your thighs...//
"Master Jinn." Doctor Frasier's words were ignored. "Qui-Gon!"
she said more tartly.
Qui-Gon broke the spell to give the brunette doctor a
distracted look. "Yes, Doctor Frasier?"
"Qui-Gon, the purpose of a preliminary physical examination is
to ensure the patient's health by establishing a baseline for
future exams."
"Yes, Doctor Frasier?" Qui-Gon repeated, not catching the
inference in her explanation.
Janet looked pointedly down at Qui-Gon's lap and back up into
his face, arching her eyebrows. Medical gowns fit the body
loosely, but not loosely enough to disguise certain obvious
protuberances. "I doubt that I'll get accurate pulse and blood
pressure readings with you in this condition."
Obi-Wan hastily stifled a snicker as Qui-Gon said, "My
apologies, Doctor. One moment, please." He closed his eyes,
delicately touching the Force to restore his internal physical
balance. / /I caught that snicker, Padawan. Wait until she
begins your exam,// he threatened with serious intent but no
malice.
/ /I shall look forward to it, Master. You know it's always my
pleasure.//
Teal'c awaited them as they exited the infirmary. Obi-Wan
guessed the reason for his presence and asked idly, "Weapons
and equipment test?"
"Colonel O'Neill requested that I ensure your proficiency," the
Jaffa replied. Taking their assent for granted, he led them
down the hallway to the elevator.
"Weapons and equipment test?" Qui-Gon parroted, as the two
strode after Teal'c.
Pulling from Daniel's knowledge of project protocol, Obi-Wan
replied, "The General demands all members of a team be
reasonably proficient in all weapons and equipment used by that
team. For most, it primarily means that the scientific members
learn the military hardware. Initially, only Samantha learned
to fire Teal'c's zat gun - "
"Not Jack and Daniel?"
Shaking his head, Obi-Wan explained, "Jack and Daniel both used
zat guns on Abydos, against Ra, though they did practice more
with Teal'c's. Now all companies study Goa'uld weaponry.
There's been too many occasions when SG members have needed to
use them."
Teal'c slowed his steps slightly, joining in the conversation.
"Many of the scientific members are deficient in the more
advanced military applications, such as munitions. Daniel
Jackson is a notable exception." The Jaffa's unconscious pride
in his team members showed in his last statement. Raised in a
culture which stressed the art of war and loyalty above all
else, Teal'c was impressed by scientists such as Daniel who
developed his weapons skills to combat the Goa'uld.
Qui-Gon flashed Obi-Wan a pained look. "Guns? Munitions?"
"We only have to be competent, Master, in case we are separated
from our own lightsabers and need to use our team members'
Earth tools."
Qui-Gon replied firmly, "A Jedi does not become separated from
his lightsaber, Padawan."
The trio arrived at the firing range. Teal'c removed handguns
from the weapons locker, giving each Jedi one. "These are M9s,
a semi-automatic, magazine-fed, recoil-operated, double-action,
hand-held pistol chambered for 9mm ammunition. Each clip
contains 15 rounds."
Qui-Gon held up a hand, cutting off any further words.
"Instructions in their usage are not necessary. Obi-Wan?" The
two communed wordlessly as the Jaffa patiently waited. Obi-Wan
skipped sharing Daniel's earliest memory of firing a gun,
aiming desperately at Ra's guards on their first mission to
Abydos. Instead he concentrated on Jack's later lengthy drills
after Stargate Command was officially formed.
"Thank you, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon pulled a headset from the rack
and stepped into position. The others also donned headsets to
muffle the deafening sound of cartridge explosion followed by
bullets impacting the target. Qui-Gon stood, feeling the weight
of the weapon. Though not as heavy than a lightsaber, the
balance felt wrong in his hands. Too compact, too deadly. There
was no grace and elegance to this killing device, no skill
other than the ability to point and shoot, no technique or
finesse required. He fired six shots in rapid succession before
pulling off his headset.
"A left torso shot, a right torso shot, two head shots, a flesh
wound in the arm and leg. Is that sufficient?"
"Admirably," Teal'c replied.
Obi-Wan stepped into position, following Qui-Gon's example of
letting himself become comfortable with the grip of the gun
before firing quickly. All three removed their headsets and
contemplated the pattern formed on Obi-Wan's target.
Qui-Gon spoke, "Why did you shoot facial features, Obi-Wan?"
"It's called a 'smiley face.' Or a 'happy face.' Daniel saw it
once in a movie."
"A movie. These are the two-dimensional entertainments where
people can survive the vacuum of space?" While Qui-Gon's words
dwelt on Obi-Wan's actions, his mind brushed against Obi-Wan's
shields, which instantly dropped for him. Obi-Wan's mind
usually reflected his personality, cool and still, with flashes
of his impish humor, a powerful, logical intellect devoted to
peace and the study of the Force. The Jedi Master was disturbed
to find disconnected pieces of Daniel's life swirling through
Obi-Wan's thoughts, like debris preventing the ripples of a
lake from calming. The unintentional bond had been supplanted
by the deliberate link between Master and Padawan, which later
was partially severed when a Goa'uld possessed Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan
was suffering from the radical changes he had experienced, his
thoughts disjointed.
"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan response was subdued.
"I think we can delay watching movies."
Teal'c disputed the Master's decision. "There are many movies
on this world which are quite enlightening. I particularly
enjoy the story of a young girl who battles evil witches with
the assistance of her dog and three companions. I find the
fight between good and evil, with the victor successful despite
the overwhelming numbers of her foe's army of monkey warriors,
inspirational."
Obi-Wan shrugged at Qui-Gon's questioning look. "The memories
from movies and other entertainments are mostly elusive in my
mind, Master. Such entertainments are watched, not experienced,
in this universe, and therefore less vibrant than Daniel's
actual life."
While Obi-Wan seemed nonchalant, Qui-Gon could sense his
disappointment with his Master's attitude and desire to
experience all aspects of the Earth culture. Avoiding movies
wouldn't calm Obi-Wan's mind, only time and meditation would
help his Padawan fully recover from his ordeals. "Very well,
Teal'c. If you think these movies are worth exploring, I will
accept your recommendations. And now, I believe we have more to
test?"
"The Heckler and Koch MP-10 automatic machine gun, the Mobile
Attack Turret, the Mobile Ground Transport, the Mobile Analytic
Laboratory Probe ..."
Drowning out Teal'c's words, Qui-Gon caressed Obi-Wan with a
mental touch, reassured to see Obi-Wan glow with restrained
pleasure. As well as time and meditation, strengthening their
bond would help Obi-Wan eradicate Daniel's influence and find
his balance. Increasing their own rapport was a task which
Qui-Gon anticipated with joy and delight.
Daniel Jackson normally worked at the computer in his room,
preferring to immerse himself in silence when researching Earth
cultures to discover connections to the Goa'uld. When tackling
unusual assignments, he found he needed background noise, the
bustle of other people to help him focus. He packed up a laptop
and settled at a table in the compound's dining area, a cup of
coffee at his side.
He got more distraction than he had anticipated appeared when
Janet and Sam sat down opposite him, both women smiling.
"So Daniel, how's it going?" The Major cheerily asked.
"Um. Fine. Why?" An unusual intensity in their expression made
him nervous. They were women on a mission, but he wasn't sure
what mission.
Janet responded, "We're just curious about the background
you're establishing for the Jedi."
Daniel eyed the two women and acknowledged that the battle was
lost before it started. He turned the laptop to face them.
"65!" Janet yelped. "You can't have Qui-Gon be 65 years old."
"The Jedi use the birthdays from their own home planets.
Qui-Gon's birth planet is very close to its sun. It has a short
rotation. He thinks of himself as 65," Daniel argued.
Sam explained, "Yes, but he doesn't look 65. Any cop would be
suspicious if his driver's license is ever examined."
Janet nodded her head in agreement. "Physically, he's no more
than 45 by our standards. Make him born in 1954. That's my
medical recommendation."
"Okay," Daniel agreed, appreciating the suggestion's validity.
He should have automatically made that adjustment, after the
ribbing he received for correctly noting Teal'c's age of 90. At
least Obi-Wan was 21 in Earth years, so the Padawan would be
legal age and wouldn't have to recall differently if ever
questioned. "Anything else?"
"Oh that's a perfect birthday," the Major said. "Qui-Gon's a
Leo. He looks like a lion."
Janet noted, "And Obi-Wan's birthday makes him a Scorpio. Let's
see - Scorpios - 'hidden emotions, sensual, controlling and
passionate'...?" Her words dangled as she looked inquisitively
at Daniel, expecting confirmation. The longest time she'd spent
with Obi-Wan was in her infirmary, not the best place to judge
a patient's character other than how he dealt with pain.
Staring at the two women, Daniel was suddenly struck by his
sparse personal knowledge of them. He had learned experienced
the most vital factors time and time again - they were two of
the most capable, dedicated, intelligent, dependable women he
had ever had the privilege to work with. They thought fast
under fire and unhesitatingly risked their lives for their
comrades. He had acquired a general sense of Sam's background -
a mother who died too early from cancer, a demanding father, a
rebellious brother - but he'd shared few personal conversations
with Janet. Too much of his free time was spent locked in his
room, researching history and mythology for Goa'uld footprints.
Too much of her free time was spent doctoring. In fact, he
wasn't sure when she last took R&R.
Maybe it was time to start learning these people as friends
rather than merely comrades. On the other hand, satisfying
curiosity by disseminating Obi-Wan's private life wasn't a good
beginning to a more meaningful friendship. Janet would have
plenty of chances to spend more time with Obi-Wan; she could
make her own evaluation of his character. He ducked the
dangling question in her words by answering, "Scorpio is an
Earth sign. It's very symbolic that Obi-Wan was destined for
the Agri-Corps until he became Qui-Gon's apprentice." He
blinked. "Don't tell me you believe in astrology?"
Janet's quizzical look gained a slightly mocking air. "Don't
tell me the cultural anthropologist thinks there's something
wrong with knowing a bit of astrology? Particularly the
cultural anthropologist who talks about Scorpio being an Earth
sign." She bit her lip rather than point out Scorpio was a
water sign. Daniel was so staggeringly precise on academic
details, his occasional flubs always seemed rather endearing.
Feeling defensive, Daniel responded, "It's not wrong. I'm just
surprised." How could he have worked with these women for three
years and be ignorant about them? Obi-Wan's life was an open
book to Daniel. His early life in the creche, his agony at
losing his temper at a childhood enemy and almost losing his
chance to be a Padawan, the first time he'd masturbated,
guiltily, secretly, picturing Qui-Gon's hands...Hundreds of
small and large memories, past events Obi-Wan had lived and
would never think to mention.
He didn't even know when Janet and Sam learned the astrological
charts or if they read their daily horoscopes. And if they did,
was it for fun or serious belief? A sudden vision of pre-teen
girls giggling over their horoscopes popped into his head. Of
course, Sam had probably built rockets for her friends' Barbies
while Janet excelled at the board game, 'Operation.' He opened
his mouth to ask whether they first studied astrology as
blossoming adolescents, but Sam was shaking her head.
"Obi-Wan can be English but Qui-Gon needs to be Irish."
"Oh, his brogue." Daniel mentally kicked himself for missing
the Master's occasional accent. "Good catch."
Leaning close to Sam to see the computer screen, Janet made a
small tsking noise. "Obi-Wan's eyes are blue, not gray. Just
like Qui-Gon's."
"Blue?" Sam disputed. "Hazel."
Daniel was sticking to his guns this time. "No, they're gray."
A three-way glare was shared before Daniel triumphantly
pronounced, "Obi-Wan thinks they're gray."
Such insider information could not be disputed. Sam and Janet
subsided their arguments, bending their heads over the laptop.
Blond hair touched brunette as they contemplated the rest of
Daniel's invention with the same diligence they displayed while
studying Goa'uld technology. The anthropologist waited for
further input, wondering if life would ever be quite the same
with the Jedi on Earth.
Jack and Daniel found the Jedi under Teal'c's supervision in
the armory carefully storing C-4 plus detonators. Without his
usual joking tone, the Colonel asked the Jaffa, "How did it
go?"
"They are most proficient in all types of weapons and equipment
used by SG teams, Colonel," Teal'c studiously responded.
"All?" the Colonel asked, disbelievingly.
"All," was Qui-Gon's firm reply. "And quite relieved to have
this finished. We will carry guns only if absolutely required.
A Jedi's weapon is his lightsaber."
"All?" Jack repeated, still seeking affirmation from Teal'c.
He'd realized the Jedi would have advantages but training
usually took weeks. Thus he'd assumed at least several days
would be required.
Teal'c's eyebrow arched. "All," he replied succinctly.
The Colonel glanced at Daniel, who simply shrugged, not
surprised. Earth weapons would seem like child's toys to the
Jedi. The complexity of some alien ordnance they'd learned,
particularly some 'studied' while under fire, was light years
advanced beyond Terran technology. Given no reason to doubt
Teal'c's testimony, Jack acceded. "Okay, I'll let Hammond know
you're good-to-go. In the meantime we thought you might like to
go out to dinner at a restaurant. Have a chance to say 'hi' to
the locals."
Qui-Gon appreciated the thoughtfulness. Last time they visited
Earth he'd remained in the Stargate compound, becoming too well
acquainted with the unremitting military gray paint and stark
functionality of its design. For secrecy purposes, the project
occupied an Air Force base buried deep in the Rocky Mountains
to resist nuclear attack. The oppressive weight of tons of
granite overhead muted Qui-Gon's connection to the living
Force, limiting his senses to feeling the vitality of the
compound's personnel. Any chance to explore more of this planet
would be eagerly accepted. He longed to be closer to the forest
plants and animals above, as well as non-SGC humans. True to
his training, Qui-Gon Jinn would not presume to understand an
entire culture by sampling only one community, especially a
military cadre engaged in classified activities.
Ever conscious of the social niceties, he only said, "We would
enjoy dinner, but we do not yet have money. I assume it is
required in restaurants?"
Daniel replied, one finger pushing his glasses higher on his
nose. "This is our treat. It's a 'Welcome to Earth' dinner.
There's a great steak place in town."
Obi-Wan smiled, sensing Qui-Gon's emotions. "We would be
delighted to accept. I'd like to try some jalapeno poppers."
"Jalapeno poppers?" Daniel frowned. "I don't like jalapenos.
How can you want to try poppers?"
The younger Jedi spoke gently, "Just because our minds bonded
doesn't mean our likes and dislikes are identical, Daniel. I
can taste the memory of foods you've tried and think I might
like them. And even if I share your reaction, I still want to
make my own decisions."
The brief impression of a kicked puppy crossed Daniel's face,
as if he was hurt by the realization that he and Obi-Wan
weren't total soul brothers. Disappointment was quickly
replaced by a fond smile. "I remember the first time you tried
yaster tubers. You spit them at Yoda."
A smothered laugh as Obi-Wan recalled one of the frequent
occasions the Jedi Master helped with the young initiates. He
parodied the small being, "Think you spitting at a diplomat
will help negotiations? Jedi must like all foods! Honor all
customs!"
The image of the squat green troll scolding a little,
tow-headed Obi-Wan made everyone smile. Jokingly, Jack
promised, "You can eat anything you want - just as long as you
don't spit-up on me."
Smiling, Obi-Wan shook his head, "I promise I've learned to
control my reactions." Mentally, he reached out to Qui-Gon, / /
There are Earth foods I definitely want to share with you,
Qui-Gon. With you, on you...//
/ / Hush, Obi-Wan, I think we've already done enough damage to
the Doctor's image of Jedi self-control during our exam. We
don't need to duplicate that performance in front of the entire
group. //
/ / Then tonight, Qui-Gon, I'll tell you tonight...If you must
insist I wait. // Obi-Wan flashed a mock pout at Qui-Gon as the
five men strolled out of the armory, but the love in his eyes
belied any true disappointment.
As the seven were settling into a booth, a song began playing
on the jukebox. Janet paused before sitting. She loved this
song. She wanted to dance to this song. She surveyed her dance
partner options, quickly eliminating Jack and Daniel. American
males were notorious non-dancers unless officially on a date.
Moreover, from the vibes she'd intercepted between those two
(and that Sam oddly refused to admit seeing), neither of them
was likely to be interested in dancing with her. Teal'c's
candidacy went next. As far as she was aware, the Jaffa had
never danced. The Jedi? Being diplomats, dancing for social
functions might be a training requirement. Then again, Daniel
had probably infected Obi-Wan, so... She grabbed Sam's hand.
"Come on. I want to dance," she said, dragging the taller woman
to the small dance floor.
Bemused, Qui-Gon asked, "I was under the impression men and
women danced together in this society."
Obi-Wan and Daniel were already raptly examining the appetizer
menu, so the task of explaining fell on Jack. "Well, typically,
yes. But women dance together, too. It's okay."
The Master appeared pleased. "Does that mean Obi-Wan and I can
dance together?"
"No!" Jack took a deep breath, then hissed, "Men and women
dance, and women dance. Youher, either as a couple or in a group. Men avoid dancing
together because it automatically identifies them as
homosexuals."
The explanation helped but raised more questions. Qui-Gon
pursued, "But it doesn't identify women as lesbians?"
Jack answered first, "No. And that's just the way it is. It may
not make sense, but it's the American way, okay?"
"It's perfectly fine, Colonel. Obi-Wan and I are Jedi
diplomats. We have no prejudices how a society *ought* to be. I
simply wish to ensure I am following the acceptable social
parameters." Considering the two women as they faced each
other, gyrating to the beat, Qui-Gon asked, "Would they prefer
to dance with male partners?"
Neither Jack or Daniel was sure how to answer. It wasn't a
subject they'd ever discussed. Tentatively, Jack offered, "My
wife did complain when I wouldn't dance with her..."
"Obi-Wan?"
The younger Jedi nodded. "Yes, Master. It would be hospitable."
"Excuse us, gentlemen." With those words, Qui-Gon slid out of
the booth and strode off toward the women, followed by Obi-Wan.
Jack cringed. Sure, he guessed Sam and Janet would appreciate
the gesture. His wife would have. But somehow, the vision of
the regal Jedi Master boogeying to a disco beat...he cringed
more then relaxed as the music ended.
Good. All done. The Jedi and the women held a brief
conversation, then moved to the jukebox.
Bad. Sam dropped in quarters and a slow song began playing as
Obi-Wan swept Janet into what Jack guessed was a modified
waltz. Qui-Gon bowed to Sam and they duplicated the first
couple, clasping left hands, Sam's right hand resting on
Qui-Gon's shoulder, his hand on her waist, feet gliding in
unison.
Okay, watching slow dancing he could handle.
An odd noise emerged from Daniel's mouth. "I never realized Sam
is Obi-Wan's height. The top of her head comes to Qui-Gon's
nose too."
"How sweet," Jack replied. Instead he ignored a vague
disgruntled emotion as the two couples proceeded around the
small floor in rhythm. Damnit, he didn't like to dance. He
didn't. He'd hated it when his wife made him dance. He didn't
have a bizarre desire to sweep Daniel into his arms and into a
box trot. He didn't. He wouldn't even recognize a box trot if
it trotted over him.
Silent through this exchange, Teal'c finally questioned, "Is it
permissible to ask a woman you do not know to dance?"
Jack's answer was absent-minded. "Sure. That's how dating
starts." When the Jaffa began sliding toward the front of the
booth, he exclaimed, "Hey! You can't dance wearing a hat. It's
not done."
Headgear of some variety was a permanent fixture of Teal'c's
attire outside the SGC headquarters. He removed it now and
holding the wide-brimmed white hat in his hands, skimmed his
fingers lightly over the edge. "Daniel Jackson?"
"Ah - yes Teal'c?" The scientist was nervous. Whenever Teal'c
had a new idea about Earth or Earth culture, it was guaranteed
to be interesting, to say the least.
"Do you find the symbol of Apophis more unusual by your
cultural standards than the multitude of pierced rings on the
woman at the bar?"
Glancing in the direction indicated, Daniel saw a young woman
dressed in skintight clothes with her face pierced in several
places. She was animatedly talking with a friend, facing toward
him and coincidentally, the SG-1 booth. "I guess not," Daniel
answered dubiously. "If someone asks, you could say it's a new
type of tattoo. Hot wax permanently affixed or something."
Gentle as Teal'c was, his stoic demeanor ad imposing size
warned most people away from asking him questions, especially
personal questions.
"Thank you Daniel Jackson." Setting his hat on the table,
Teal'c smoothed the line of his jacket, looked around the room,
made a decision, and stalked off toward three women sitting
together.
Jack almost buried his head in his hands. Things were changing,
he could tell. Life was never going to be quite the same at the
Stargate command. Not that Jack didn't appreciate change, but
he'd spent too many years in the military not to enjoy the
comfort of the status quo. Change could mean growth and new
ideas; it also could generate death and war.
Then Daniel's voice hesitantly asked, "Uh Jack?"
Damn. A Talk was about to start. He could always tell when his
wife was broaching a serious subject. He breathed steadily. He
could handle this. "Yes, Daniel?" He turned enough in the booth
to look at Daniel. The scientist was staring at the table's
fake wood surface.
"Jack, when you and I - " Daniel's words ceased before he
barely began.
"Got together?" Jack supplied helpfully. Damn. Not only a Talk,
but definitely a Relationship Talk. Double that damn.
"Yes, that night." Daniel sounded relieved at the euphemistic
description for a night of mind-blowing sex. For a scientist
who could be excruciatingly analytical, maybe he wasn't fond of
Relationship Talks either. "I didn't realize it at the time,
because I was tipsy, but when I bonded with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan
on Taberus, I learned it. Learned the truth of what had
happened. And I wanted to know if it made a difference."
"If what made a difference?"
"Oh." In his haste, Daniel missed the crux of his confession.
"that Qui-Gon Forced us together."
As far as Jack could recall, Qui-Gon hadn't been anywhere near
them. The night was a little blurry, except for the very
vibrant impression of unbelievable pleasure. "Forced?"
"No, not forced as in 'against our will.' The Force. He gave a
Force-suggestion so you and I would get together. That was the
night he and Obi-Wan bonded. My - distraction - helped him push
me out of Obi-Wan's mind." Confession over, Daniel paused for a
deep breath before he risked admitting, "It wasn't against my
will." He stared at Jack, waiting a response.
The Colonel was experienced enough to keep a blank face while
revving his mind for an acceptable response. He couldn't tell
the truth. Couldn't say it didn't matter a damn what Qui-Gon
had done. He loved Daniel, loved him with all his heart and
soul, would be happy to leave the military to stay with him...
now.
The start of their relationship, on the other hand, had been
rocky. Jack, reeling from his son's accidental death, had
dismissed Daniel as a scientific geek. A non-com with sloppy
hair, glasses and asthmatic sneezing. Thankfully their trip to
Abydos eventually altered that misimpression as the geek proved
his mettle. It was Daniel who could speak the local lingo.
Daniel who helped obliterate the Goa'ud warlord. Daniel who
discovered the vital seven symbols to get them home.
But Daniel might have stayed a pleasant memory of a mission
gone right if Apophis' kidnapping a female soldier hadn't
triggered the resumption of the Stargate project. The last
three years deepened the men's tentative friendship as they
explored other worlds, daily risking their lives. Jack couldn't
tell when friendship had grown into love, only that the
realization had rushed through him when they'd drunkenly
collapsed into bed. 'Forced' by Qui-Gon? Only 'Forced' to
confront the truth.
But there was Shau'ri. Daniel would never desert his wife. He
would never leave the Stargate project as long as a chance for
rescuing her existed. And while Daniel worked for Stargate,
Jack would remain at his side, cover his flank, protect his
back. As long as possible he wanted to be beside him--loving
him.
The waitress arrived with a perky smile and a request for their
drinks order. Grateful for the diversion, Jack ordered pitchers
of beer, his eyes distracted by the dancing couples. Teal'c was
partnered with a tall redhead, her wavy hair almost reaching
her waist as she smiled up at him. His hands met at her waist;
hers were clasped around his neck as they swayed to the music.
Good dance position; his lack of experience would be less
obvious. Obi-Wan and Janet were attempting a leisurely tango,
his thin braid whipping around as the two glided to the edge of
the floor and made a tight turn. Sam and Qui-Gon still
semi-waltzed, chatting quietly.
His comrades having fun was a jolting reminder. More was
involved here than his selfish desires to be with Daniel. He
had pledged to Teal'c to free the Chulak people from the
Goa'uld. He hadn't made promises to Sam, but felt bound to her,
to her devotion, even to her father, who hosted a member of the
Goa'uld renegade Tok'ra within his body. And now the Jedi, new
allies crossed over from a parallel universe to protect Earth
and rescue their own compatriot.
His life wasn't his own. It hadn't been since he'd signed on
the dotted line as a raw, new officer. The trick was to salvage
both his duty and his love. He'd been fobbing Daniel off
serious relationship discussions with an agreement to 'live in
the moment' as the Jedi said. Anyhow, he didn't think
diversionary tactics would work this time.
"Look, Daniel, do you think a Jedi would 'Force' us into a
relationship we didn't want? Don't they believe in the Light
and honor? Stuff like that?"
Daniel considered the question before popping out an answer
Jack found unhelpful. "Actually, I wouldn't be sure about that.
The Jedi are honorable and do believe in serving the greater
good, but their actions don't always conform to conventional
American stereotypes of right and wrong. They don't have a lot
of qualms about mind control. Their ends do sometimes justify
means. And the lightsaber isn't exactly a stun gun."
Okay, O'Neill regrouped, try a modicum of honesty. He massaged
the bridge of his nose, trying to squelch an emerging headache.
"Daniel, you know that I had a..." Jack lowered his whisper to
a hush, wary of eavesdroppers, "...relationship with a man
before."
"Yeah...a one-night stand," he absolved.
"So I must be bisexual."
"Technically, the term is ambisexual. Bisexual would mean - "
"Okay, ambisexual," Jack agreed through clenched teeth to
forestall a lecture on sexual terminology. Just what he didn't
need - a Relationship Talk with intellectual corrections. "So
maybe Qui-Gon sensed I wouldn't find the sex distasteful. And
maybe he got from Obi-Wan... Maybe he knew... Hey! What did he
know from Obi-Wan?" Suspicion shone in his eyes.
Daniel blushed. "I admit - I - I've been curious. Wondered what
it would be like, to be with a guy."
"With any man?"
"No." His voice dropped to a whisper but his eyes didn't falter
from Jack's. "With you."
"Oh." For a second, they forgot the busy restaurant, went blind
to the patrons all around them, and started to lean toward each
other, heads angling to kiss. The waitress plunking down a
glass pitcher filled with a frothy amber liquid broke the
spell.
"Two pitchers of beer and seven glasses," she announced too
loudly. "I'll be back to take your dinner order. Anything else
you need now, hon?"
Jack cleared his throat worried he'd heard more in that than
she said. Nonchalantly leaning back, trying not to spring
guiltily away from Daniel, he shook his head. "Thanks. Why
don't you bring an appetizer combo? One of those things with
everything?" His voice didn't really sound very natural.
The waitress noted the order on her pad. "Will do, hon," she
said before darting off to the next table. If only the Colonel
knew how many gay men she served each week and how she favored
them as patrons. They never got grabby and, if military,
anxiously over tipped.
While Jack poured the beer, Daniel finally worried quietly,
"There's still Shau'ri. I love my wife, Jack. I want to save
her. I hate that she's imprisoned by a Goa'uld symbiont."
"I know, Daniel. I know." The words were weary.
Taking the proffered glass, the scientist sipped before
stating, "It feels right to be with you, Jack. But it feels
wrong too, you know?"
"Yeah, I know." Jack allowed himself the luxury of brushing the
backs of his fingers against Daniel's cheek. "I've been in the
military a long time, Daniel. Don't ever kid yourself, we may
come home to safe beds every night, but we're in the middle of
a war. A war that could end the entire world. Soldiers need
comfort, they need love. Reassurance that life is worth living.
Most buy sex from hookers and pretend that's enough."
Daniel didn't respond, simply watching Jack, waiting for his
conclusion.
"We're lucky," Jack hoped. "We're friends who are lovers.
There's more than sex, there's caring. I care for you, Daniel.
You're my best buddy. When we're together, it reminds me of
everything that's worth saving in this world. I want to spend
time with you as long as we can. And when we rescue Shau'ri, I
think she'll have enough compassion to understand the truth."
In Jack's mind, he prayed that he would have enough courage and
love to quietly disappear.
Shau'ri and Daniel's honeymoon year together seemed so brief,
already so long ago. The researcher recalled his time on
Abydos, the excitement of living in a culture like ancient
Egypt, married to the most beautiful woman he'd ever known.
Shau'ri's outer perfection, her dark hair and flashing eyes,
her exotic features, had matched her inner sweet nature.
Daniel nodded as he remembered his wife's unselfish devotion.
"Yes, Shau'ri will understand. So we - continue 'living in the
moment' and everything stays the same?"
Jack answered with a wry grin toward the dance floor where
Qui-Gon twirled Sam. "Everything stays the same between you and
I. Somehow, I don't think things will ever be the same again
for the Stargate project."
As Obi-Wan dipped Janet over his arm and bent one of his knees
so her head almost reached the ground, Daniel could only agree.
Well, you do learn something new every day, Daniel thought
muzzily, feeling a tingling buzz from too much beer, his belly
pleasantly stuffed with steak, baked potato, and an excess of
rich, gooey appetizers.
Sam could yelp. He'd never heard Sam yelp. Heard her be
concerned, inquisitive, angry, determined...
She yelped again. "Brookfield!"
"It's not 'Brookfield,' it's SG-4," Jack stated calmly, having
anticipated a bad reaction to his announcement.
Sam wasn't accepting that distinction. "SG-4 is Brookfield's
team. I can't believe Hammond is going to put the Jedi with
that egomaniac. He won't be able to tolerate having Qui-Gon on
his missions. Not after losing at ping-pong to him." Part of
Sam's adverse reaction resulted from the guilty awareness that
Qui-Gon might have an easier time with Brookfield if she hadn't
prodded the Jedi into playing against him.
"Brookfield is a good officer. Both he and SG-4 have a superb
record. Besides, SG-4 is understaffed. They need more members.
We don't," Jack noted.
"Samantha." Qui-Gon's quiet voice and lightly placed hand on
her arm caused the Major to stop her objections. "Obi-Wan and I
will do fine with SG-4. We will not - "
/ / Threaten Brookfield's masculinity, Master. //
/ /Thank you. // Qui-Gon absently thought to Obi-Wan,
continuing aloud, "threaten Brookfield's authority. Besides, we
could not realistically expect to be part of SG-1. Obi-Wan and
I are well aware that Hammond would not waste his resources."
Since the make-up of individual SG teams was not her area of
concern, the Doctor had intended to remain silent, but she felt
obligated to murmur, "The fact that you diligently avoid
threatening him may make it even worse. Brookfield's smart
enough to realize when someone else downplays his own
superiority. He is a good officer, but he's not without flaws
and he's not a Jedi Master."
Qui-Gon's statement had finally worked its way through Daniel's
inebriated brain enough for him to articulate, "What's a
waste?" At the curious looks, he expanded, "You said it would
be a waste of resources for the Jedi to be on SG-1. Why?"
Daniel hadn't crossed paths enough with Brookfield to share
Sam's dislike, tending to spend his free time alone, with SG-1
or the other scientists. He'd automatically assumed the Jedi
would be placed with SG-1 and found himself disappointed at
Hammond's decision.
/ / Obi-Wan, explain. You know the facts better. //
"SG-1 is the best of the best, Daniel. Hadn't you realized
that?" Of the Earth people, only Janet seemed to understand
Obi-Wan. Baffled expressions from Daniel, Jack, and Sam met his
statement. Teal'c's face was impassive. Obi-Wan gave a small
sigh before continuing, "Of the members on the original
mission, only Jack, Daniel and Feretti survive, correct? You
were the first to travel through the gate. You destroyed Ra,
saving the Abydos people. Daniel deciphered the Stargate and
found all the coordinates for other planets on Abydos, making
gate travel to dozens of planets a reality. Sam was one of the
original researchers on the Stargate project and also hosted a
Tok'ra, giving her superior knowledge of the Goa'uld and an
ability to recognize other Goa'uld hosts. Teal'c was a Jaffa,
trained to war, and hosts a larval Goa'uld, which grants him
increased stamina and the physical ability to recover
devastating wounds."
"So?" was Jack's blunt response.
Patiently, Obi-Wan continued, "So Hammond has collected the
cream of military and scientific personnel in this country but
none of them have the special background or unique abilities
that the members of SG-1 do. You are the best of the best. To
add two Jedi to your team would be squandering resources."
The Earth members of SG-1 shared conscious glances of
embarrassment before all three trained their sights on Janet.
She swallowed the rest of her broccoli and responded to their
unasked question, "Everyone on the base knows that. Hadn't you
realized it?"
The three fidgeted restlessly. None of them answered Janet.
Teal'c simply arched an eyebrow, obviously not as discomforted
by this new perspective. Thinking it wise to change the
conversation, Qui-Gon asked, "Why is SG-4 understaffed?"
"They lost a member. He died on their last mission. An
accident." The terseness of Jack's reply indicated a sore
subject. Everyone involved in the project took the loss of a
team member hard.
The conversation needed a radical shift to break the tension.
Obi-Wan slid out of the booth, noting, "There is one way men
can dance together." He crossed his arms in front of him, right
forearm resting on his left, and dropped into a squat before
leaping up, one leg kicking out in front.
"You must be joking," was Jack and Daniel's combined response.
They flashed a look at each other before Jack added, "That's
gotta be hard to do."
"Let's try it. They'll think we're crazy Greeks. Or drunk.
Janet, pick a song for us." The Padawan tugged on his Master's
arm, encouraging him to follow.
"Like any of us look Greek," Jack grumbled. "Come on, Major,
Doctor, Teal'c. If my thigh muscles are gonna ache, everyone's
gonna ache."
With laughter and smiles, everyone tumbled out of the booth,
trailing after Obi-Wan. Yes, Daniel mused, wondering if his
stomach was too full to cope with such activity, the times
definitely were changing.
Everyone was quiet as the elevator arrived at the level where
most of the living quarters were located, conscious that many
of the other SGC members would be sleeping at this late hour.
Jack escorted Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon to their new quarters before
giving them a wave good-night, turning away to hide the wince
from his already complaining thigh muscles.
The two Jedi stepped inside their new home. The Colonel had
considerately pulled rank, assigning them rooms initially
intended for the high-ranking diplomats who would need
protection during the envisioned nuclear holocaust. The rooms
were spacious by SGC standards, containing both a living room
and a bedroom. The furniture was regular military issue, plain
and sparse, but Jack had acquired the largest bed available.
He'd scrounged a few amenities, a television and VCR, a coffee
pot with both coffee and a selection of teas sitting by it,
large potted plants, a luxurious rug covering the cement floor.
They crossed into the bedroom, finding that their clothes had
been placed in the dresser or hung in the closet, next to
several blue SGC uniforms in their sizes. Obi-Wan fingered one
sleeve. "It will feel unusual to wear a different uniform,
Master."
"A Jedi does what he must, Obi-Wan," the blunt reminder
softened by his gentle tone.
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan replied obediently before his eyes
sparkled. "But right now I'd like to see you wearing nothing at
all."
Raising his hands to his sides, Qui-Gon promptly responded,
"Don't let me stop you, Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan teasingly unbuttoned Qui-Gon's shirt, idly stroking the
firm skin of the Jedi Master's chest as it was revealed.
Qui-Gon accepted the service, knowing his apprentice enjoyed
building the anticipation. Obi-Wan dropped to his knees in
front of Qui-Gon, unbuckling his belt before undoing the button
and unzipping his pants. He eased the pants off Qui-Gon's hips
and chuckled as the solid erection covered in plain white Jedi
undergarments were revealed.
"You don't normally find me amusing, Obi-Wan. Particularly
there."
The extremely dry nuance in his Master's voice amused Obi-Wan
even more, and he laughed harder until Qui-Gon tugged on his
ponytail.
"I'm sorry, Master." In recompense, he rubbed his cheek against
Qui-Gon's erection, generating an immediate reaction. He kissed
his way slowly up the center of Qui-Gon's abdomen, with soft
nuzzling and lingering licks on the taut flesh. "You are
definitely not amusing there," he whispered to Qui-Gon's lips
before sealing their mouths together.
"Then?" Qui-Gon asked quizzically after a lengthy kiss.
"I didn't think about asking the tailors to duplicate all Earth
clothes. It was the sight of your undergarments."
In punishment at Obi-Wan's delay in explaining, Qui-Gon nipped
at his ear. "Yes?"
Rather than feeling chastened, however, Obi-Wan shivered and
arched closer before continuing, "We'll need to replace our
undergarments at some point. I think we should take Sam
shopping with us when we do. I have a feeling she'll want to
know the answer to the age-old question - Master Qui-Gon
Jinn..., boxers or briefs?"
Recognizing he'd missed another cultural reference, the Jedi
Master ignored the question and called on the Force, using its
power to help him lift Obi-Wan to toss him on the bed. He
filled his eyes with the sight of his apprentice, hands flung
back over his head, still dressed in the white t-shirt and blue
jeans he'd made the tailor on Coruscant duplicate with exact
precision. Visually satisfied, he fell on Obi-Wan, swallowing
his laughter with another hungry kiss. His mental shields
collapsed as Obi-Wan's emotions surged to meet his own,
satisfying his desire for a fuller connection.
Qui-Gon realized their time on Earth would not be simple.
Separated from home and their fellow Jedi. Obi-Wan still
affected by his bond with Daniel, Qui-Gon occasionally feeling
Karvas' loathsome taint in his mind. Exploring a new universe
while ensuring that Obi-Wan received his full Jedi training.
Difficult challenges; new friends. But they would be together,
as Master and Padawan, as lovers.
And at the end of the day, that was all that truly mattered.
Archive 