Daniel stormed into Jack's office and slammed the door shut behind him. He planted his hands on Jack's desk and leaned into the other man's space.
"What the *hell* was that all about?" Daniel felt like he might burst into flame at any moment. This is what a volcano feels like before it erupts. At the thought, he slammed one hand down on the desk and stood up straight to tower over his seated friend. These days, he outweighed Jack and while Jack could still beat him in hand to hand, the day was coming when Daniel's experience and greater bulk would meet Jack's aging joints and slighter frame and come out the winner. Daniel tried not to think about the little rush he got from knowing he could easily be physically intimidating these days. He didn't care for what it said about who he'd become.
"Why Daniel, I never would have expected you come see me." Jack sat, too still, in his chair; a frigid glacier facing off against Daniel's blazing inferno.
"Cut the *crap*, Jack!" Daniel braced himself on the desk again and leaned into Jack's space. "We left those people to *die* out there! They have no weapons, no experience and we just *left*." He kept his hands flat against the cool wood because he wasn't sure he could keep from punching Jack if his hands weren't otherwise occupied.
"What would you have us do, Daniel? Set up a base on PX9-301?" Jack leaned forward, taking back some of the territory Daniel had invaded.
"We have to do *something*!" Daniel glared at Jack, not giving an inch. The ships that arrived and began to strafe the population weren't any design SGC personnel were familiar with. The locals were agrarian and had barely been able to accept SG-1's arrival through the gate. As far as he was concerned, it was up to them to help.
"Oh, I know," Jack held up a finger when Daniel looked like he was going to interrupt. "We could pattern it after Iraq because *that's* worked so well. How does that sound? Halliburton probably has some mercenaries they haven't committed. We could sub-contract."
"What are you *talking* about?" Daniel glared at Jack over the desk as the other man finally stood up.
"Oh, that's right. We *already* have civilian contractors," Jack poked Daniel in the chest, just a touch harder than necessary, "out there fighting our battles, don't we, Daniel."
Daniel *felt* the blood rush from his face. Jack stepped around the end of his desk and crowded into Daniel's personal space.
"Do you hear yourself, Daniel?" Jack's quiet tone was more chilling than his shout; his eyes dark and hard and dangerous. "You want to give them weapons? You want to fight them? Who are you wanting to kill? What do they look like? What do they call themselves, Daniel? What *language* do they speak?"
Each question was delivered with laser-like precision and each one cut him and cauterized the wounds leaving searing pain their wake. When he'd challenged Jack, he'd been so sure he was right and now, now as the implications of Jack's comments sank in, Daniel closed his eyes and concentrated on getting his still roiling emotions under control. The added embarrassment was a small distraction. Bit by bit he started tracing the source of what he'd been thinking and feeling; trying to come to terms with how he got to the point that brought him to rail at Jack demanding military action for a doomed battle.
Daniel opened his eyes at the light touch on his chin. "Daniel?" No longer cold and forbidding, Jack looked more tired and sad than anything else. "Look at you." Daniel suppressed a flinch at the memory Jack's words evoked. That dark storeroom featured in too many of Daniel's nightmares. "When did you become me?"
Four times Jack and Daniel almost came to blows, and one time they did. Pt. 4
"What the *hell* was that all about?" Daniel felt like he might burst into flame at any moment. This is what a volcano feels like before it erupts. At the thought, he slammed one hand down on the desk and stood up straight to tower over his seated friend. These days, he outweighed Jack and while Jack could still beat him in hand to hand, the day was coming when Daniel's experience and greater bulk would meet Jack's aging joints and slighter frame and come out the winner. Daniel tried not to think about the little rush he got from knowing he could easily be physically intimidating these days. He didn't care for what it said about who he'd become.
"Why Daniel, I never would have expected you come see me." Jack sat, too still, in his chair; a frigid glacier facing off against Daniel's blazing inferno.
"Cut the *crap*, Jack!" Daniel braced himself on the desk again and leaned into Jack's space. "We left those people to *die* out there! They have no weapons, no experience and we just *left*." He kept his hands flat against the cool wood because he wasn't sure he could keep from punching Jack if his hands weren't otherwise occupied.
"What would you have us do, Daniel? Set up a base on PX9-301?" Jack leaned forward, taking back some of the territory Daniel had invaded.
"We have to do *something*!" Daniel glared at Jack, not giving an inch. The ships that arrived and began to strafe the population weren't any design SGC personnel were familiar with. The locals were agrarian and had barely been able to accept SG-1's arrival through the gate. As far as he was concerned, it was up to them to help.
"Oh, I know," Jack held up a finger when Daniel looked like he was going to interrupt. "We could pattern it after Iraq because *that's* worked so well. How does that sound? Halliburton probably has some mercenaries they haven't committed. We could sub-contract."
"What are you *talking* about?" Daniel glared at Jack over the desk as the other man finally stood up.
"Oh, that's right. We *already* have civilian contractors," Jack poked Daniel in the chest, just a touch harder than necessary, "out there fighting our battles, don't we, Daniel."
Daniel *felt* the blood rush from his face. Jack stepped around the end of his desk and crowded into Daniel's personal space.
"Do you hear yourself, Daniel?" Jack's quiet tone was more chilling than his shout; his eyes dark and hard and dangerous. "You want to give them weapons? You want to fight them? Who are you wanting to kill? What do they look like? What do they call themselves, Daniel? What *language* do they speak?"
Each question was delivered with laser-like precision and each one cut him and cauterized the wounds leaving searing pain their wake. When he'd challenged Jack, he'd been so sure he was right and now, now as the implications of Jack's comments sank in, Daniel closed his eyes and concentrated on getting his still roiling emotions under control. The added embarrassment was a small distraction. Bit by bit he started tracing the source of what he'd been thinking and feeling; trying to come to terms with how he got to the point that brought him to rail at Jack demanding military action for a doomed battle.
Daniel opened his eyes at the light touch on his chin. "Daniel?" No longer cold and forbidding, Jack looked more tired and sad than anything else. "Look at you." Daniel suppressed a flinch at the memory Jack's words evoked. That dark storeroom featured in too many of Daniel's nightmares. "When did you become me?"