BTG Zipfic

Pawn

by Jb

"Sir? They what? But, but that's just –  Uhh... Me?"

Daniel stared at General Hammond in disbelief. Belatedly aware his lower jaw was pretty much at knee level, not to mention realising the word 'me' had emerged as an outright squeal, Daniel snapped his mouth closed. His mind whirred, engine running at top speed as he spun his wheels trying to grasp what he sure hoped would simply turn out to be the bad joke of the day. This certainly couldn't be for real. He tried to compose himself for a more coherent stab at seeking clarification of what he thought he'd just heard.

He needn't have bothered making the effort. The general put down the pen he was holding, and placed both hands on the top of his desk before continuing on, apparently willing to allow Daniel's incompetent plea for a reality check to slide right on by. "Since SG-1 is persona non grata in this situation, I've already recalled Major Kovachek and his team from stand-down. They should arrive at any moment. Their role is simply to accompany you as escorts, however. It will be your responsibility, Dr. Jackson, to resolve this matter."

Tal met. Pal tiem shree tal ma. Daniel felt his stomach contract into a knot as Teal'c's grief-stricken words echoed in his head. No way was he doing this. Persona non grata. Right. Okay, so the Tok'ra had that sentiment correct; they'd just totally muddled up its direction of travel. No way was he going back there. They'd had an agreement in principle, a pro forma invoice tendered and accepted. The Tok'ra had broken it. They'd purposefully practised deception, withheld information; they'd taken risks with lives not their own. No matter their unbelievable denials, their actions condemned Shan'auc to death at the hands of what they clearly had anticipated was in fact a Goa'uld through and through. Unilaterally and without consultation, the Tok'ra had inserted a Boner-Bonee clause into the negotiations, and had just fully lived up to its stipulations. So, just which party ought to be persona non grata here?

The presence of SG-1 was unacceptable to the Tok'ra, was it? All right then, it was worth a try. Daniel shifted, then deciding the situation warranted a more formal approach, rose from his seat to take a wide-legged stance in front of Hammond's desk, his hands loosely clasped in front of him. "Sir, last I heard, I'm still part of SG-1. Persona non grata to the core. Unless of course you're trying to tell me..."

An annoyed expression settled on the general's face. Unlike most of the annoyed-Hammond looks Daniel had been personally responsible for in the past, this one was too intense and lingering for Daniel's comfort. General Hammond gazed steadily at him for a moment then slowly picked up his pen again, and tapped it methodically against the open file in front of him. "Should I wish to address your status in this organisation, Dr. Jackson, I can assure you it won't be necessary for you to ask for clarification of my intentions."

Uhh, okay, sure thing. Sir. Daniel sucked on his lower lip, his determination not to betray both Teal'c and his own feelings tempered by the knowledge that to speak now would be a Very Bad Thing. He stood silently as General Hammond glared at him. When the general finally saw fit to continue, his tone was measured, the methodical tap of the pen on the file folder keeping time in a perfect 1/4 beat with his words of displeasure. "Dr. Jackson. As you are well aware, your strongly worded recommendation significantly contributed to the decision to advise the President that we lodge a formal protest in the first place. Are you now telling me, after encouraging me to take an action which places not only the SGC but this entire planet in open contention with the Tok'ra, you are unwilling to participate in addressing the consequences of your recommendation?"

Oh, hell. Put that way, no, of course not. Wait... hang on just a minute here. Yes. Sure, you bet. Unwilling was exactly the right word. Plus a few others which were not polite enough for Daniel to dare even allow to fully form in his mind. He might end up blurting them out by accident. Damn the Tok'ra anyway. Daniel had never expected this response from them. He'd expected their cold assurance they considered both the letter and spirit of the existing clauses unviolated – in effect, a formal 'like it or lump it' rejoinder – which assurance, of course, had promptly materialised within a couple hours of their receipt of the formal protest.

He had never even imagined, though, they'd go on to apparently rethink the matter, consequently adopting the remote, condescendingly conciliatory attitude which the general intimated had just manifested itself. Daniel certainly hadn't anticipated they'd be willing to put forward even a false appearance of sullying their perfect track record of maintaining The Second Most Arrogant Attitude In The Galaxy. And false it was. By politely, regretfully suggesting it appeared to them the SGC was having second thoughts about the process, and they'd be willing to accommodate such dissatisfaction through temporarily backing away from the contract negotiations – "giving both parties an opportunity to reconsider the validity of their interpretation of existing agreements" – the Tok'ra were purposefully over-reacting.

Transparent manipulation. It had taken Daniel all of a split second to decipher the unmistakably insincere proposal as an acknowledgement of the complaint in only the most superficial sense, while on a deeper level as an attempt at not-so-well-concealed intimidation. Daniel snorted to himself. As much as they might wish to think so, the Tok'ra just didn't do subtle very well. Their response was intolerably arrogant, certainly not at all what was needed. Not an effort to seek mutually agreeable solutions to differing ethical standards. Not even close. He wanted no part of it.

The big question here was, why couldn't General Hammond see the overt manipulation? It was so obvious. "Sir, to them, there is no interpretation other than their own, and that alters according to what suits their purpose at any given time. Surely you realise they aren't really interested in..."

"Doctor Jackson." General Hammond rose to his feet, ominously leaning forward over his desk. "You advised me the Tok'ra were in contravention of several de facto clauses, as a result of withholding information and strategic speculation which could foreseeably result in compromise to our people or our allies. It was within the context of your insights on contractual intent that the legal department and the President proceeded to consider this matter. Are you now telling me this action was ill-advised? That you made an error in interpretation?"

Daniel swallowed all hope of getting out of this conversation unscathed, along with a large chunk of his resolve not to involve himself further in the manipulations of those who had done this to Teal'c and Shan'auc. It stuck halfway down, choking him. Damn it. The general well knew the answer to his own question. It was a red herring. General Hammond was bullying him, plain and simple. He averted his gaze to the floor, his response riding on a deep, heartfelt sigh. "No, sir. There's no error in interpretation at this end."

That they should have known better – had been gullible to expect anything other than the attitude and actions the Tok'ra had displayed in their handling of Shan'auc and her goa'uld – and therefore there was little use in flogging the issue, was an associated fact he didn't even bother to voice out loud. He'd recommended the formal protest out of personal anger, pain felt for Teal'c, and a sense of moral righteousness over all of them having been victimised... not because he thought there was any use in actually pursuing the wrong. Hammond may not have understood that at the outset, but he'd obviously figured it out somewhere along the way, and was about to make Daniel pay for it.

General Hammond's eyes narrowed even further than they already had to this point. "That doesn't sound very convincing, Doctor. It was on the assurance, primarily on your assurance, several in-progress clauses plus the mutually understood intention of the proposed treaty had been violated that the President instructed me to proceed. I need to know, right now, if you have any doubt as to the veracity of that position."

The fledgling treaty was right there on the desk. Daniel fought the self-destructive urge to tell Hammond to simply read the damned thing and figure it out for himself. There was no point to allowing himself to vent his spleen all over Hammond. He was already quite doomed enough as it was. Hoisted by his own petard. Fallen victim to his own stringent standard of moral and ethical accountability. Yeah, that one... the same ethical code he all too frequently threw at Jack, expecting the man to somehow find room to accommodate while in the field. This time, it had rebounded right back at him, and bitten him in the ass. How in the hell was he going to explain this to Teal'c? God. This sucked.

Clearly correctly interpreting Daniel's silence as capitulation, Hammond gathered together the papers strewn across his desk. He placed them in the file folder, and turned away to fuss with the stack of documents taking up a decent portion of space on the sideboard behind him. As the man sorted through the piles of papers, Daniel noted a slight change in the tension in the general's back and shoulders. Sure enough, the paternalism came a moment later. Still with his back turned, his tone purposefully casual, Hammond commented, "You know, Dr. Jackson, I'm not a neophyte in the world of politics. And this is exactly what all this is." He turned to face Daniel, a thick wad of documents in his hands. "You may be a born diplomat, son, but you make a lousy politician. I understand your reluctance, but the fact is you miscalculated, and now you have to deal with the consequences."

Daniel winced. "No, I didn't calculate at all, General. It was a gut reaction. Sure, maybe I shouldn't have assumed anything, shouldn't have taken any particular anticipated Tok'ra response for granted, but the foundation for my recommendation is still sound. They've callously violated mutual agreements. Specifically, section four, clauses two, four, and... ahhm... five? Yeah. Five."

"Legal agrees with you. But that isn't what we're talking about here, is it? You were not only naive, you were presumptuous, and now you have to fix it."

Presumptuous. Well, that was going a little too far. But, naive? Yeah, okay. He could agree with that. Hammond was right. What Daniel had seen as an assertion of a moral imperative had been turned into a political game of condescending one-upmanship. Politics sucked, and he sucked at playing politics. He'd set out to ensure the Tok'ra understood the SGC knew they'd been victimised, and he'd ended up being played like a fiddle by the Tok'ra. And the concert was nowhere near over... in fact, this was only the overture. Just wait until he got there.

It suddenly occurred to him that maybe, just possibly, his own demonstrated political incompetence could be his saviour. Certainly, since he was undeniably such a "lousy politician", it was conceivable there might be a certain amount of risk in sending him alone to sit in council with the Tok'ra? Right? He could mess up carrying out his orders to demonstrate a spirit of co-operation, could easily screw up playing the dictated role of penitent patsy, and fail dismally with regards to the goal of gracefully reaffirming the Earth's interest in the establishment of a formal alliance and the preservation of the progress made thus far toward that end. His ability to effectively politically posture on behalf of Earth was doubtful at best. Considering that pesky, stringent standard of moral and ethical accountability of his, chances were pretty good he might say or do the wrong thing, and end up making matters worse. Right? Absolutely.

Daniel looked up quickly, his mouth already open in readiness for the words to spew forth, feeling the expression of discovery and muted triumph settle over his face before he even said anything. Then, stopped. Didn't say any of it. Because, hell, General Hammond was watching him closely, and damned if the man wasn't silently laughing at him. The only word Daniel managed in the face of such an unexpected and extreme change in Hammond's demeanour, was, "W-What?"

"You aren't expected to engage in any political manoeuvring, Dr. Jackson. That's already well taken care of." Hammond placed the pile of documents on top of the file folder, then picked up the whole thing and held it out toward Daniel. "Garden-variety diplomacy will do just fine."

Huh? Already taken care of? And well taken care of, too. Huh again. What exactly was taken care of? By who? It was him they were throwing to the wolves, and he hadn't got there yet. It was him being asked to go out there and put forward their non-position, ensure the Tok'ra –  Wait. What exactly had Hammond told him they want him to do? To "demonstrate good faith and a spirit of co-operation." To "do whatever necessary to affirm the continued harmonious relationship" between Earth and the Tok'ra. Even though they both well knew that would entail tacit forgiveness of the Tok'ra's culpability in Shan'auc's death?

Garden-variety diplomacy. Oh yeah. Daniel felt sick, even moreso than he had up to this point. The politicking had already been done, all right. They were sending him. That was the SGC contribution to the political chess game. He was a pawn, and he'd just been moved into enemy territory on the board. The opponent was free to either swoop down and capture him, side-step and tolerate his presence as benign, or to ignore him and do an end run around him, as they saw fit. The President and the SGC had lodged a complaint. The Tok'ra had responded with both affront and a misrepresented as well-considered, but in fact altogether capricious, offer to take things to the next level. And the next move was... him. Dr. Daniel Jackson. Treaty negotiator extraordinaire, co-founding member of the SGC, scientist, cultural expert, and diplomat... and very significantly a member of SG1, team-mate of Teal'c. Here, Tok'ra Council: one intellectually insightful, selflessly, ethically motivated, and cosmically conflicted representative. Most importantly, he was politically and militarily innocuous as far as the Tok'ra were concerned, and yet still a potential thorn as a result of his close relationship with the wronged party.

In short, go off and schmooze with the Tok'ra, Daniel. Just to let them know we're smart enough to figure out how we were wronged, but be sure to stop short of saying out-loud we might not be very happy about it. Imply that despite everything, we still lovingly fondle the damned treaty-in-progress to the point of orgasm even in our sleep. We're like a big family, and hope in the future their definition of brotherly love will mirror that of our own. Have some wine, eat some of that weird Bek'mal stuff that oh so unfortunately tastes nothing whatsoever like chicken. Be a walking, talking, breathing reminder of both the virtue and the victimisation of the Tau'ri. Shovel the shit. Pretend to rise above the games they play. Lick the boots. Rise a bit higher still, not that the Tok'ra would notice or even care.

Pay through the nose for thinking more about what was right than what was wise, Daniel. Oh, man. How could he possibly justify his role in this to Teal'c? He was having a hard enough time accepting it himself. Sure, someone needed to go in response to the Tok'ra's manipulative overture, but God, why him? Because he'd pushed Hammond just that bit too hard and needed to be punished? Or because in the mixed up, distasteful world of politics, he was in fact the best option, the best form of counter-point?

Daniel reluctantly accepted the bundle of paper. Hammond pulled a large, dark leather, zipped portfolio from a shelf and opened it, indicating Daniel should place the handful in it. Oh, good. At least he had an impressively expensive-looking home for the worthless documents he'd take with him. No. No, they weren't worthless, really. Just... pretty much redundant on this mission. For show. Nothing more than a prop.

He grimaced as he jerkily stuffed the documents into the case, the sour taste in his mouth far worse than that what any Bek'mal could produce. Clumps of stapled papers shifted, turning diagonally, and stuck out haphazardly all around the edges. There was no way he could close the thing. He shuffled the errant papers around, held the case by it's spine and underside, shaking it, hoping the papers would fall back into place. It only made matters worse. Ah, never mind. Screw it.

He looked up to see Hammond regarding him with the visual component of the verbal paternalism he'd just been on the receiving end of. The general sat down, and clasped his hands together on the desk top. There was an air of finality to the action which was borne out as he spoke. "Embarkation is at 1430 hours, son. You know what's expected of you."

Daniel nodded half-heartedly. Yes. Unruffle the feathers. Make like a good little diplomat and say all the right things at the right times... and most of all, stay as far away from the bald, dismal truth as possible. Just suck it up. They lied through their teeth? Withheld information? Oh, well, sure, we understand how you might have perceived it to be strategically essential. Shan'auc died... and oh by the way, we believe completely unnecessarily, but hey, we acknowledge you might see it differently. A sad day for us all. Something to learn from. We'll all do better next time. He glanced at his watch. 1350. Lucky him; he had a full forty minutes to prepare for utterly compromising his principles, not to mention betraying Teal'c.

Teal'c. He really needed to let Teal'c know. After the fact would be no good; he'd have to go see him before leaving... like, right now. He owed him that courtesy, at the very least. Daniel didn't bother to acknowledge Hammond's last words – the civilian-appropriate equivalent of 'dismissed' – as he turned and left the office. He made his way straight to Teal'c's quarters, turning over in his mind just what he could possibly say to make Teal'c understand that while the need for this was partly his doing, it sure wasn't his choice. Finding the right approach failed him, though. He'd just have to wait until he was face to face with his friend, and go from there. Hopefully, it wouldn't end up coming out as something really feeble like, sorry, Teal'c buddy, I don't like it much that I gotta go suck up to the Tok'ra, but really, I'm just faking it. Honest.

Clutching the portfolio full of papers to his chest, Daniel raised one hand to knock on Teal'c's door. To his surprise, the door swung open an instant before his fist came forward. He barely stopped the forward motion in time to avoid bopping Jack right in the face as the man exited the room. Jack gently closed the door behind him, and raised one eyebrow in question at Daniel as he guided him away from the door. Daniel found himself unwillingly propelled a good ways down the corridor in the direction he'd just come from, before he could even find his voice.

What voice he did eventually find, Jack didn't seem to be capable of hearing. Despite Daniel's protests, they rounded the corner and took the adjoining corridor which led to the elevator. Only then did Jack take his arm off Daniel's shoulder, and allow them to slow to a halt. "So, Daniel. What's up?"

What's up was that he didn't have time for this. Daniel stepped back and turned to head off the way they'd come. Back to Teal'c's room. "What's up is I was going to see Teal'c, Jack. Not you."

"Ahh, Daniel? I was just there, and, well..." Jack' stood motionless, his voice soft and hesitant. It was enough of a departure from Jack's usual tone that Daniel stopped and waited.

When Jack didn't continue right away, or even move so much as to blink, Daniel raised an eyebrow of his own. "Yes? You were just there, and...?"

Jack looked momentarily flustered. "Oh yeah, well, right. Of course, you know I was just there." He scowled, and with a sudden flurry took a giant step forward and once again grabbed hold of Daniel's shoulder. "Well, the thing is, I don't think it would be a very good idea for you to go see Teal'c right now, Daniel. He's not very happy..."

Well, no of course he isn't. Duh. Daniel heard Teal'c's lament over Shan'auc's body in his mind again, and felt his own sorrow and anger rise a notch higher. Of course, Teal'c wasn't...

"... with you right now, and I think it'd be best for the both of you if you avoided him for a few days. Okay?"

What? Daniel was flummoxed. It wasn't as if Daniel had even spoken to Teal'c since getting his blessing for the recommendation to Hammond about the protest. And at that point, Teal'c had been more than happy to see him. He'd been even more determined than Daniel himself that the Tok'ra should be told off, and had provided some recommendations of his own, in language which Daniel had carefully edited for 'general' consumption. What could be the problem now?

Jack took pity on him. Draped an arm around his shoulder as he steered him back toward the elevator. Gave him a pensive, long look. "You don't know, do you?"

Uhh, no, Jack. Tell me. Daniel let his stare do the talking for him.

"General Hammond already informed Teal'c about your upcoming mission, Daniel. He didn't take that very well. Pretty pissed off about the whole thing, actually."

Shit! Daniel jerked to one side, shrugging out from under the arm around his shoulder. Damn, damn, damn! He'd sought out Teal'c the other day and ended up basically colluding with him on the ill-fated protest, and now... now... Hammond had probably told Teal'c the bare essentials only, out of some bizarrely executed sense of fairness and respect for Teal'c's loss. Just that Daniel was going to pay a diplomatic, greet and share the gravy, reparative visit to the Tok'ra. Piss! And even before he'd told Daniel himself about it. Daniel felt his gorge rising. The nerve of that man. How dare Hammond do this... not only take him for granted so thoroughly, but destroy his only chance to square things with Teal'c?

"Whoa!" Jack's dive to try and catch some of the papers which flooded out of the unzipped portfolio brought Daniel to the realisation he was trembling – no, actually, shuddering would be a better word – quite violently in his outrage and disappointment. Jack got down on hands and knees and started gathering up papers, then glanced up at him. "Don't burst a blood vessel, Daniel. Take a deep breath, okay?"

Trying to get a handle on his treacherous body and prevent any more of the contents of the attaché from nose-diving to the ground, Daniel clutched both arms to his chest, trapping the portfolio. Nothing more fell out of it, but it really didn't change things much other than that. He was so angry... so, so, so mortified he was... he was... oh God. Of course Teal'c wouldn't be very happy with him. Understatement. The miracle of Jack having actually understated something only vaguely penetrated his distress; it certainly wasn't the distraction such a bizarre event would normally be expected to provide.

Daniel swung around to face the wall, and leaned forward to place his forehead against the cool concrete. Okay, he had about a half hour left before he had to leave. He'd need about fifteen minutes to get these documents all in order and do a quick, down and dirty review of the salient points. Even though this whole thing was a big farce, it wouldn't help matters to come off looking disorganised, and muddle things up at the Tok'ra conference table. Ten minutes to change clothing and gear up would be ample; it wasn't as though he would be putting on his Sunday best for this circus. Hell, maybe he wouldn't even bother changing his underwear and T-shirt. Non-regulation black Fruit of the Looms and a sweaty, wrinkled up T-shirt were about all a visit to the Tok'ra were worth... no, scratch that. The price tag on the Fruit of the Looms far exceeded the worth of this mission. So. That left a grand total of... oohhh, crap. A whole five minutes.

He felt a hand reach around him, prodding at his stomach before quickly readjusting and going higher. Pulling at the portfolio. Fine. He didn't really want the damned thing anyway. It was burning a guilty hole right through his chest. He let go of it, and Jack pulled it away. He heard the rustle of papers, and the sound of the zipper closing. Then Jack was there, leaning against the wall beside him. "So. I gather you're about as unhappy with this mission as Teal'c is."

Daniel nodded. The concrete scraped his forehead with the movement, and he straightened up, turning and sliding his shoulder against the wall until he was more or less leaning against it, facing Jack. "It's a bad joke, Jack. A farce." The bitter taste flooded his mouth again, and he almost gagged on the words which came out next. "I'm supposed to go buddy up with them, ostensibly to review the treaty negotiations and reinforce our commitment to the very same clauses they just shattered. To uphold 'our mutual interests'. It's... it's..."

"It's an order, Daniel. A distasteful one, but not necessarily an ill-advised one."

Daniel stared at Jack in shock. "What? You, of all people, actually think this is the right thing to do?"

Jack made a face. "What's right and what's necessary aren't the same thing, Daniel. You know that."

Daniel made a face of his own, and waved a weary hand through the air. "Right. Sure. For the greater good and all that." He narrowed his eyes and peered at Jack. "Hammond talked to you too, then?"

Jack looked away for a moment, and then nailed Daniel with a steady gaze. "It was me suggested he talk to Teal'c about the visit before giving you the order."

The air left his lungs in a whoosh, and Daniel actually felt his pupils widen as though they'd entirely take over his eye sockets. The automatic objection was leaving his lips, and his shoulder leaving the wall, in an instant. Jack simply curled his lip slightly in mild derision. "Oh, come on, Daniel. What? You think going to Teal'c with this yourself, after the fact, was going to win you any points? Grab a brain here. I know what you're thinking. I do. You think we went behind your back, cast you as being a bad guy in this."

"I wasn't going to wait until after the fact, Jack!" Daniel felt the hot words spilling out of his mouth, his frustration and guilt finally finding a means of expression. It was a damned good thing Jack was holding the portfolio, or it would have flown right out of his slashing hands. "Shit! What? You think you're the only one with any discretionary judgement? No one understands better than me that Teal'c has a right to know up front we're prostituting ourselves to the Tok'ra. For God's sake, after what he and I just went through the other day, after all we came up with together to, to... God! Why in the hell do you think I just showed up at his door?"

The reply was so casual as to be infuriating. "To try to explain to him you really don't want to do this. To apologise for your part in it." Jack's steady stare burned a hole right through him. "If we let you do that, if we hadn't told him about it before you were even ordered to go, Daniel, he'd have ripped your head off. Given you a jumpin'-jaffa-kick right through the concrete."

Daniel took a deep breath. Nope, it wasn't in the least bit calming. He squeezed his eyes shut, reaching up to remove his glasses and pinch the bridge of his nose. "Sure. Whatever you say. Which whatever, by the way, essentially boils down to that you don't trust me to handle this. But never mind that. Just tell me, Jack, what you did... this helped me... how?"

"Give us, and Teal'c, a bit of credit will you? Hammond told him you weren't even aware of the Tok'ra response yet, never mind the orders you were about to receive. We did this for you, Daniel. To try to head off any misunderstandings between you and Teal'c. He's... well, he's not seeing entirely straight these days."

Yes. Daniel knew that.  Teal'c's response to his tentative suggestion they protest the violation of existing in-principle agreements was emphatic enough that it was beyond simply being uncharacteristic, moving smartly along toward the 'alarming' end of the scale. He sighed. "Okay, yeah. Give you that one." A quick glance at his watch caused his chest to tighten uncomfortably. It was almost 1415 hours. No time to go talk to Teal'c now, even if Jack were about to allow him to try. "Hell. I have to go gear up in a few minutes. Damn it, Jack, I really don't want to go. I hate this whole thing. I just... I really wanted Teal'c to..."

A hand reappeared on his shoulder, this time the grip light and reassuring. "He does, Daniel. He knows."

Daniel slumped against the wall. "You just said he wasn't very happy with me." That he'd be more likely to pound on him than listen. A sad state of affairs, considering he and Teal'c had worked so hard to recover their equilibrium with one another since... since... ah crap. This wasn't fair. Maybe he should just turn around and march on up to Hammond's office, tell him to stuff it. Advise the general in no uncertain terms to get someone else to do the big-B betrayal act.

Jack's voice intruded. "I know, but that doesn't mean he doesn't understand, Daniel. He's just not able to hang on to it for long right now. He's grieving for Shan'auc, and sometimes it's hard to keep anything else in perspective." Something hit Daniel, causing a jacket button to dig into him, and he opened his eyes and looked down to see the portfolio, fully stuffed and zipped, jammed up against his chest. "Here. You'd better get moving."

Tal met. Pal tiem shree tal ma. Yeah. Daniel knew about just how hard it could be to hang in there, to maintain perspective in the face of loss. Damn. His eyes were starting to sting. Wuss. When had this become about him and his loss, anyway? Get real. Knock it off. Sliding his glasses on with one hand, accepting the portfolio with the other, Daniel thoroughly gave in to the inevitable. He nodded to Jack, and pushed himself away from the wall.

He'd taken less than a half-dozen steps when Jack's quiet voice gifted him from behind. "Don't worry about Teal'c. Just do your job; he understands. And Daniel... what you're doing, well, it may not be your first choice but hell, you're a damned sight better and stronger than the rest of us, for being the one able to do it. Knock 'em dead, kid."

Daniel stood motionless for a moment. Since when did betraying your friend and your own values become honourable? In Jack's book, clearly when it was done as a sacrifice, for the sake of someone else's determination of necessity. Daniel wished his own view could be even half as straightforward as that. But he appreciated Jack's sentiment and the words of support, nonetheless.

When he thought his voice would finally be steady enough to say so, he turned around. But Jack was gone.

Daniel idly played with the zipper on the portfolio. He sat half-dressed on the bench in SG1's changing area, wearing only his T-shirt and underwear, his BDU pants still down around his knees as he contemplated the act of lacing his boots. They were combat boots. Thick black leather, steel toes and heels, stout laces, reinforced ankle support. Treaded rubber soles that Bridgestone would kill to own the rights to. And the pants puddling around his legs... BDU's. Battle-dress. Seemed appropriate, given he was waging a mental war with himself.

The teeth of the zipper track around the edge of the portfolio were nylon. The zipper head slid effortlessly, like warm hands caressing silk, even around the corners where the leather of the attaché bunched up in little puckers where the zipper was sewn into it. Daniel couldn't recall the last time he'd seen anything move along quite so smoothly. He didn't want to go. He'd have to smile and lie through his teeth, and he didn't think he could do that. And if he couldn't do it, and do it well, he'd only make matters worse between the Tau'ri and the Tok'ra. It was pretty clear, impending treaty or no, who held all the cards in that poker game. They needed the Tok'ra, and Daniel was scared to death he'd not be able to sustain the diplomatic veneer. God forbid Tanith should be anywhere in view.

The zipper tracked along the edge of the attaché again, going in the opposite direction. Closing up. He'd done difficult things before. Hell, he'd killed people. He'd seen his wife die in front of him... which of course had been all his fault because he didn't do what was necessary when he should have. Jack said this was necessary. But, Teal'c... despite Jack's assurances, Daniel was worried things could never be the same between he and Teal'c if he did this. He knew how angry Teal'c was over the Tok'ra's actions, over how they'd purposefully allowed Shan'auc to roam the tunnels alone, using her as bait to draw out the truth about who and what Tanith really was. And here Daniel was, not thirty-six hours after sitting with Teal'c and raging over just that... here he was, going to sit alongside, break bread with, and to all intents and purposes give a figurative hand job to the Tok'ra council.

The zipper reached the end, and without pausing Daniel reversed direction, pulling it open. He slowed the pace, listening for the faint 'snick-snick' as the head passed over and separated individual teeth from one another. It occurred to him this was what the Tok'ra did. They manipulated, pulled things apart. Slowly, quietly, but oh so surely encouraging cohesion to fail. Dividing in order to conquer, to reveal and pull asunder. Maybe from now on, SG1 and the SGC ought to stop and listen for the possible presence of this tiny sound before they did or said anything to do with the Tok'ra. Listen for the...

"Daniel Jackson."

Teal'c! Daniel jerked, his fingers losing their grip on the zipper head, and his hands very nearly losing the entire portfolio. He carefully placed the portfolio beside him on the bench, and stared up at Teal'c, simultaneously both terribly unsettled and painfully glad to see him. What a combination. That clinched it, then. He was totally batty. Driven over the edge by monumental indecision and ambiguity.

"It is 1430 hours. You are late for your mission." Teal'c's imperturbable gaze bored into him. Confusion joined the mix, and Daniel wasn't sure quite what to say or do. So he sat there, still and silent. Teal'c waited a beat or ten, and then raised an eyebrow, inclining his head in the general direction of Daniel's lower half.

Daniel glanced down. Bare skin. Black stretch boxers covering the upper several inches of his thighs. A riot of dark green fabric framing his knees. He was sitting on a wooden bench half-dressed, half-pantless, and when Teal'c had walked in he'd been all but caressing a dark red leather case. How adult of him. Competency was his middle name, yes it was.

"Daniel Jackson." The voice was closer. Daniel looked up, right into Teal'c's face. He was right here, crouched down in front of him, knees almost touching Daniel's own. And the inscrutable expression had changed into something else. Something which took Daniel's breath away just as surely a jumpin'-jaffa-kick would have. Teal'c smiled – damn it if he didn't actually crack a small smile – and poked at the BDU pants. "I do not believe the Tok'ra will appreciate the true value of such a form of capitulatory diplomacy, Daniel. It is a wasted gesture. Perhaps it would be best if you were fully attired for this particular task."

Daniel felt himself break out into a wry smile of his own. It vanished as Teal'c stood up, and Daniel was once again being looked down upon by an intensely sombre jaffa. He rose, pulling his pants on up with him. "Teal'c. Look, I really..."

"It is not necessary to explain. I do not like what will be done, however I am well aware it is not your choice to do it." Teal'c turned and stepped away, and when he came back Daniel saw he was holding his vest and jacket. "At the same time, I am glad it is you, Daniel. I know you will hold Shan'auc's sacrifice in your memory every moment you are there with those Kra'tecs." The last word came out as if poison, laden with antipathy.

Oh boy. Daniel fumbled to do up the button on his fly and snake his belt through the front loop. "Teal'c, thank you, I appreciate you saying that. But you know there's nothing I can do, don't you? I'm being used; I'm just a pawn. I can't make it right. " He felt his throat close up on him, his voice catching slightly on the dismal truth. "In fact, by going along with this, I'm betraying both you and Shan'auc. I'm sorry, Teal'c. I'm really, really sorry."

Teal'c thrust Daniel's jacket into his hands. "No. There is no betrayal on your part. You, who care about Shan'auc's death and feel for my loss even if you cannot speak of it with them, you will be there as a representative of what is right. That is enough."

Feeling worse than guilty, not ready to believe he deserved the leeway Teal'c was giving him, Daniel accepted the jacket and pulled it on. He bent over to retrieve the portfolio, but Teal'c stopped him with a hand on his arm. Daniel straightened, then flushed with embarrassment at the vaguely amused look on Teal'c's face as he handed over the forgotten vest. Daniel felt almost like a small child being helped into his Sunday clothing by a maternal aunty, for a church visit he really, really didn't want to make. He grabbed the vest and pulled it on, mumbling his thanks.

Teal'c's hands moved to his jacket under the vest, and Daniel stared down in confusion as Teal'c grasped the ends of the open jacket fronts and brought them together. The sound of the zipper quickly closing was almost completely masked by Teal'c as he complained, "The Tok'ra do not value any but themselves. You must take care. For several years, it has perturbed me that you neglect even the smallest of precautions, Daniel Jackson." The vest zipper was next to succumb. Teal'c released him and stepped away, seemingly satisfied with the symbolic gesture. "Even though these talks are merely formality, the Tok'ra will seek to assert their faultlessness in Shan'auc's death. I expect nothing from you except that you retain your dignity on her behalf, and do not demean yourself or her memory by undertaking an ineffective attack on their arrogance."

All zipped up and absolved of both fault and responsibility, Daniel stood stiffly in front of Teal'c, trying his best not to embarrass himself by stuttering, stammering or, God forbid, sniffling, as Teal'c continued. "Tanith's time will come soon enough.  I am not content with just that, but I am agreeable to waiting for a better opportunity to see justice done."

The grief for Shan'auc was huge in Teal'c's eyes, on his face. This was Teal'c's moment to sort out what was what, not Daniel's. So he stayed silent, choosing to give Teal'c the respect of listening, rather than debating. And debatable this was. There was no way he was doing the right thing here, and there was no way he was able to accept so easily as Jack – and apparently Teal'c, as well – that 'necessity' necessarily overbore 'right'. But he'd wrestle with that himself, later. Just now, Daniel was so relieved to find himself at the receiving end of fastidiousness over zippers rather than whatever else could easily have been, that he was content to just let it go.

And speaking of going... Daniel bent over and picked up the portfolio. It was half-unzipped, and he quickly drew the tab the rest of the way around. Teal'c had the utility belt and holster slung over his shoulder, clearly intending to accompany him to the armoury and then to the gateroom. That Teal'c was willing to see him off on such a dubious mission meant the world to Daniel, and he couldn't help but to reach out and grip Teal'c's forearm. "Teal'c... thank you. I promise, I'll do everything I can to ensure the Tok'ra acknowledge and respect Shan'auc's efforts." Daniel let a tentative smile play at the corners of his lips. "Even if it means I have to eat a pound of the green variety of Bek'mal."

Teal'c returned the sentiment with a wry twitch of lips and a raised eyebrow. Content that things were going to be okay between them, and infinitely grateful for the same, Daniel turned and with untied laces flapping against his boots made his way to the door of the changing room. The fully drawn zippers of his vest and jacket caused the clothing to pull uncomfortably across his chest as he moved, reminding him of why he ordinarily never did the damn things up. He promised himself the minute he was out of Teal'c's sight through the 'gate, he'd unzip them.

A hand from behind clamped down almost painfully hard onto his shoulder, and he stopped and turned. Teal'c was glaring at him. "Daniel Jackson. I have already advised you, yet you still insist on venturing out unprepared. O'Neill is right. There are times you are a menace to yourself."

Daniel furrowed his brow. What? Total confusion. Oh wait, yes, his boot laces. Teal'c took an aggressive step toward him, his suddenly out-thrust hand higher than necessary for dealing with errant footwear, and Daniel instinctively backed away a corresponding step. Immediately, he felt guilty about the apparent lack of trust one might find evident in that, and stepped forward again. Right into Teal'c's outstretched hand and pointing finger. Unfortunately, much to both his own and Teal'c's shock, he found out all too well just what Teal'c had been both referring and pointing to. He felt the finger penetrate straight through to impact flesh, and blushed to the roots as he realised his fly was not zipped.

He'd pulled on his pants and done up his belt, but –  Teal'c pulled his hand away immediately, apologising. "Excuse me, Daniel Jackson. That was unintentional."

Well, of course it was. Daniel grinned his reassurances, thinking perhaps it was time for a new pair of Fruit of the Looms. The front hatch obviously had stretched over time, and had to be gaping. He grinned wider as he zipped his fly, realising here was a perfect form of protection from the stress of the falsehoods to come. He doubted the Tok'ra had a single pair of well-worn stretch boxers between the lot of them, and certainly there were no zippers to be had on any of their pants... but he had a fertile visual imagination. He'd wing it.

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Within the context and limitations of the site Disclaimer, Any and All original characters, situations, story line, dialogue and narrative © April 15th, 2001, the author