Prompt 31.05

[starglyph.livejournal.com]

Five times Daniel remembered he's a civilian.



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[vain-glorious.livejournal.com]

2. When he signed away some of his ‘civilianness’.

Shortly after Shar’e’s death, a bunch of men in dark suits showed up at the SGC looking for Daniel. This was almost never a good thing, and he deliberately avoided them for a few hours. He was surprised when General Hammond called him into the briefing room and the Suits were there, waiting.

Hammond introduced the three men as lawyers from the Air Force JAG. He must have read the anxiety on Daniel’s face because he smiled, leaned closer, and said, “It’s just about renewing your contract and the non-disclosure clause.”

Daniel would have been more comfortable if he had stayed, but the General pointed him to a seat and then left the room.

The lawyers gave their names – all very lawyerly and none memorable.

“I already had this meeting,” Daniel said, as a pile of legal documents suddenly appeared before him. “A couple of years a go.”

The head suit nodded. “It came to our attention that your contract has become long term.”

“Yeah,” Daniel said, and then focused really hard on the papers before him so that they wouldn’t see the flush of hot tears against the back of his eyes.

“The contract is identical,” said the lawyer to his left, the one apparently charged with making sure he understood the thing. The other two just wanted it signed. “The only difference is it accounts for the change in duration and your new position.”

Daniel started to reach for the pen. He only vaguely remembered reading the first one he signed. It had been long and in legalese, and he’d been too excited to care what the fine print said. He picked up the pen and leaned the tip against his lips.

“I’m just going to read it,” he said.

And he did. A couple of times he had to ask for clarification. It was mostly just detailing his position and duties as a civilian ‘consultant’. The word almost made Daniel laugh. He wouldn’t call his daily activities ‘consulting’.

The non-disclosure clause at the end was slightly less amusing. Daniel read it twice and looked up in confusion.

“Leavenworth?” he said. “I’m a civilian. That’s a military prison.”

Head lawyer immediately rifled to that page. “The nature of your knowledge requires a military facility,” he said. “There are also other possible facilities: Edwards, Kirtland –”

“Whoa,” Daniel interrupted. “I’m not going to violate the non-disclosure clause, so you don’t have to tell me where I’m not going to go to prison.” He paused. “I’m not in the military. I’m a civilian,” he repeated.

The lawyers all nodded, but they clearly weren’t following his train of thought.

“I can’t be brought to a military court for anything else? The only reason the word prison is in here at all is for the non-disclosure clause,” he clarified.

“And if you violate the terms regarding terminating your relationship with this facility,” head lawyer said.

Daniel found the relevant section. “If I join the goa’uld?” He asked, tartly.

“If you join an organization that is an enemy of this facility, foreign or …” – an awkward pause, since this wasn’t exactly common language – “foreign or alien.”

“Was that in the original contract?” he asked. Daniel felt phenomenally stupid for having signed that thing without checking if he was selling himself to the military.

More nods.

“The original contract was less detailed,” said the head lawyer. “This one accounts for the fact that you are a long-term employee of this facility and have far more extensive knowledge.”

“So no extended recreational trips to Russia?” Daniel joked, knowing before it left his lips that they weren’t going to appreciate it.

He looked sideways at the briefing room door, movement catching his eye. A green shoulder was bobbing in the window. More bobbing, then Jack’s face appeared for a second. He moved out of view and a flash of blonde hair let Daniel know Sam was with there, too, waiting outside the door.

Daniel wondered if they thought he wasn’t going to sign it.

“Leavenworth,” Daniel muttered to himself, picking up the pen and reaching for the contract. “At least I don’t have to cut my hair.”