Disclaimer:  Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions.   MacGyver and it's characters are the property of Henry Winkler/John Rich Productions and Paramount Pictures.   This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

 

  
 

 
 

The story is set in Stargate’s second season, shortly after ‘Thor’s Chariot’.

The previous instalments should be read first.

 

            The route which O’Neill took to reach the level housing the infirmary was different to that employed by his cousin. It was a route which, normally, would have been just as quick as that which MacGyver had taken. A maintenance crew had been engaged on some work involving accessing an overhead conduit however and they had all but blocked off a corridor junction with step ladders; not to mention the assortment of tools and equipment they had had scattered all over the floor.

 

            O'Neill's language had been rather choice as he had negotiated the unexpected obstacle course with impressive agility. Had the maintenance crew not already abandoned what they had been doing to rush off to their emergency stations when the base alarm had sounded, they undoubtedly would have been subjected to some extremely caustic and pointed suggestions regarding voluntary transfer applications to Alaska.

 

            As it was, the obstacle course had impeded the Colonel's progress long enough for him to arrive on the infirmary level just in time to see a figure that was unmistakably that of Daniel Jackson, venturing into a storage room. Something about the slightly hesitant way in which Daniel did that venturing, triggered O'Neill's internal alarm bells.

 

            "Daniel?" He called out, but Daniel was clearly intent on whatever it was that had drawn his attention to the storage room and gave no sign of having heard the Colonel. This did not particularly come as a shock to O'Neill. He was used to being ignored when he yelled at the archaeologist. Shaking his head and muttering something about submitting a requisition for a hearing aid for Daniel, O’Neill hurried down the corridor, determined to check out what the archaeologist was so distracted by this time, since the storage room was on his way to the infirmary anyway and those internal alarm bells were still ringing.

 

            Just as O'Neill drew near to the storage room, the door opened and he found himself faced with the sight of his best friend being pushed into the corridor with a gun at his head.

 

            There was nowhere in that section of corridor for O'Neill to even attempt to seek cover to try to conceal his presence and he was seen almost immediately by the fatigue clad figure with the gun.

 

            "Don't move, Colonel!" The gunman barked.

 

            O'Neill did the only thing he could do to keep Daniel and himself alive at that precise moment. He halted in his tracks and carefully raised his hands in a non threatening, I'm not armed gesture.

 

            "You wanna' tell me what the hell ya' think you're doing, Airman?" He demanded.

 

            "He tried to kill Sam in the infirm- " Daniel began to rattle out, apparently heedless of the fact that he had a gun held to his head by a young man who looked to O'Neill to be extremely jittery.          Daniel's attempt to speak was abruptly choked off as the arm across his windpipe tightened and his air supply was severely restricted.

 

            “Don't make me hurt you, sir,” the gunman hissed at the choking archaeologist.

 

            “Airman, you gotta' know you're not going anywhere,” O’Neill pointed out tersely.

 

            "Sorry, Colonel, but I beg to differ." The gunman responded as, keeping his back to the wall and Daniel between himself and O'Neill, he began to edge along the corridor.

 

            "Airman Grierson, isn't it?" O'Neill kept taut control on the urge to rip the man's head off with his bare hands. He saw surprise register in the Airman's eyes. The man clearly hadn't expected him to know his name. "You might want to reconsider what you're doing. Okay, so you're bucking for a court martial big time and a long spell in the brig, but no one's dead yet, so give it up before you get in any deeper."

 

            "I , I can't, sir." Grierson shook his head.

 

            "Why not?" O'Neill inquired. "You know there's gonna' be a squad of SFs here any minute. Give it up now while I can still help you. Before this goes too far."

 

            “I wish I could, sir,” Grierson responded, continuing with his slow sidle along the corridor wall, dragging Daniel along with him. “Really, I do, but...” He shook his head. "I don't want to hurt this man, sir." He prodded Daniel in the temple with the gun. "And I don't want to hurt you, sir, but I'll do whatever I have to to get off this base. I have no choice."

 

            "There's always a choice, Grierson," O'Neill stated, slowly keeping pace with Grierson's retreat along the corridor and wracking his brains for any scrap of information he could dredge up from memory about the man. Grierson had transferred in only a couple of weeks earlier. Being the base second-in-command, O'Neill had had the man's personnel file cross his desk. The man's record to date had been exemplary; exemplary enough to suggest that promotion would likely be forthcoming very soon.

 

            “I wish that were true, sir,” Grierson responded with a heavy sigh.

 

            "So...Why'd you try to kill Malloy?" O'Neill changed tack. "Someone put you up to it, or you just got a thing about civilians?" The flicker that registered in Grierson's eyes told O'Neill the answer. He was just about to pursue the matter when they both registered movement further down the corridor and a commanding voice bawled.

 

            "Freeze right there gentlemen!"

 

            "SFs are here, Grierson. What're ya' gonna' do now?" O'Neill inquired. He saw the trapped animal look in the airman's eyes as the man glanced past him at the squad of SFs filling the corridor, weapons at the ready. "Give it up, kid and we can all get out of this in one piece." O'Neill suggested calmly as he saw Grierson's indecision. Then he saw the man's expression change and he just knew what was going to happen.

           

            "NO! Grierson, DON'T DO IT!" The Colonel bellowed.

 

            Daniel cried out in shocked terror as he heard the explosive sound of the gun firing practically in his ear. He dimly registered being spattered on the back of the head by something warm and wet as the arm that had been half strangling him abruptly released him, allowing him to drop to the floor where, stunned and panicked, he tried desperately to suck in great gulps of air. Something dropped to the floor with him, but he didn't have time to figure out what it was before O'Neill was at his side, dragging him clear and demanding to know if he was alright even as the corridor reverberated to the sound of men yelling and boots pounding the floor at a rapid pace.

 

            "‘Mmm okay, Jack. 'Mmm okay," Daniel rasped, reaching to wipe some of the warm wetness from his neck. His hand came away covered in blood and some grey substance that made him frown bewilderedly at it. "J-Jack?" He began to ask, then his gaze drifted past the crouching O'Neill at his side. He saw the crumpled form with half its brains spattered messily across the corridor wall. “Oh, God...” He managed to rasp before he threw up.

 

********************************

 

With a still very shaken looking Daniel trailing in his wake, Colonel O’Neill hurried into the SGC infirmary. His gaze alighted immediately on the highly agitated form of his cousin, who was pacing back and forth outside the room housing Sam Malloy. Two very large SFs were blocking the doorway and although they were doing very good impersonations of statues, their eyes were following every move the Phoenix operative was making. Teal'c was also in residence. He looked as stoic as ever, but O'Neill knew the Jaffa well enough to see the tension and anger radiating from the big alien .

 

MacGyver stopped pacing to look at O'Neill. Before Mac could voice the question that was written all over his face, O'Neill held up the syringe that he had retrieved from the corpse of Airman Grierson.

 

It was at that moment that the two SFs parted to allow Janet Fraiser to exit Malloy's room.

 

"How's he doin', Doc?" MacGyver and O'Neill demanded simultaneously, both having seen Fraiser's emergence at the same moment.

 

"Not good," Fraiser answered grimly. “I think we've got him stabilized for the moment, but I don't know how long it'll last. I really need to know what- ”

 

“Got it, Doc,” O’Neill brandished the syringe.

 

"Great." Fraiser took the hypo carefully and bellowed for a nurse. One hurried over. Fraiser ordered the hypo taken to the lab and its meagre dregs analysed immediately. The nurse nodded and departed swiftly in the direction of the lab. Looking at the two men hovering before her, Fraiser told them. "There's not much left in that hypo, but hopefully it'll be enough to get a line on whatever it was Sam was given."

 

"Doctor Fraiser!" A voice called urgently from Malloy's room.

 

"Excuse me," Fraiser said and ran back into the room. The two SFs immediately blocked the door in her wake again. MacGyver, who had tried to follow the medic, nearly bounced off the human barricade. Stepping back, he positively oozed agitation and panic.

 

“He's in good hands, Mac,” O’Neill said, stepping to his side and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Doc's the best there is."

 

"Yeah..." MacGyver didn't look particularly reassured and his eyes remained glued to the SF blocked doorway to the room housing his son.

 

"Mac. Listen, I gotta' make a coupla' calls. Hang in there. I'll be right back in a coupla' minutes. Okay?"

 

Distractedly, MacGyver nodded. Some part of him registered Jack stepping over to a nearby wall phone, but he was too focused on what was happening to his son to pay much attention. Nor did he pay much attention to the fact that Daniel moved to stand close at his side.

 

“Mac  I'm sorry. This is my fault. If I'd just...” Daniel began miserably.

 

“No, Daniel. You're not to blame.” The archaeologist's voice had penetrated MacGyver's awareness.

 

"But if I'd just..." Daniel began, radiating guilt and hugging his arms tightly across his chest.

 

“Not your fault, Daniel,” MacGyver tore his gaze from the SF blocked doorway to look at the man standing at his side. Alarm flashed across his features as he saw the gore staining Daniel's fatigues and matting some of his longish hair. "Are you alright?" He questioned worriedly.

 

"Huh?" Daniel realised what MacGyver had spotted. "Oh. That. Yeah, I'm okay. It's not mine." He shuddered. His ears were still ringing from the proximity to Grierson's suicidal gunshot and he still looked pale.

 

"Mebbie you should sit down. You don't look so good." MacGyver suggested, instinctively concerned about the younger man's welfare despite his anxieties over his son.

 

Fraiser emerged from Malloy's room again before Daniel had an opportunity to protest, or Mac was able to steer him to a chair.

 

"Mac... "

 

"What is it?" MacGyver turned to Fraiser at hearing her speak his name. "What's happening?"

 

"I'm afraid it's not looking good." Fraiser answered grimly. “His pressure's dropping. I think some of the internal sutures have ruptured. I really need to get him back into the O.R., but  I have to be honest, Mac, right now it's too risky. He's too unstable to handle the anaesthetic and until I have a handle on whatever it was he was given, the chances of getting him stable enough...”

 

“So, you're saying he's not gonna' make it?” MacGyver went even more ashen than Daniel already was.

 

"I'm saying that right now the odds are against him, Mac." Fraiser said grimly, but compassion was clearly visible in her eyes. "I've ordered more cross-matched blood and we're transfusing him right now, but we're running out of time."

 

"Mac, the crystal! Use the crystal!" Daniel jumped in. Both Fraiser and MacGyver looked at him. "It worked on Jack. Janet, you have to let Mac try."

 

"I, ah, don't know about that, Daniel." Fraiser was openly dubious.

 

"Janet, please  let me try." MacGyver pleaded, his dark eyes radiating anguish  and hope.

 

"But you don't have much control over that 'device', do you?" Fraiser frowned.

 

"It's limited," MacGyver admitted. "But I still need to try."

 

“I appreciate you want to help, but...”

 

“Let him do it, Doc.” O'Neill's voice sounded behind them. He had completed his phone calls in time to catch the drift of the conversation and his tone suggested that Fraiser should think twice about arguing with him. "Look, Doc, we can argue about this and waste time the kid doesn't have, or we can try this. Mac stopped me bleedin' to death; saved my life. Ya' gotta' let him try an' do the same for his own kid for cryin' out loud."

 

"Colonel, I..."

 

“I'll take any flack from on high, Doc.” O'Neill stated determinedly.

 

"I also should like to help."

 

Everyone looked around, startled, by the quietly spoken young voice that intruded. They found Alaeya standing a few paces away. From the stunned expressions on the faces of the SFs guarding Malloy's room and the abrupt manner in which they swung up their weapons it was apparent that they had somehow failed to see the young K'Rin'sha's arrival.

 

"What the...?" O'Neill began. "Stand down!" He ordered the SFs.

 

"W-whoa..." Daniel stuttered.

 

"How did-?" Fraiser began.

 

“Mother thought you might need my help,” Alaeya interjected evenly, addressing herself to MacGyver. “My second House, like yours and that of the Keeper,” the girl's dark eyes flickered to Daniel, then returned to MacGyver as she finished, “is of the Healer.” She paused and there was no doubting her sincerity as she added. “Please. I should like to help.”

 

“Fine by me,” MacGyver nodded. He turned to the slightly flabbergasted Fraiser. "Doc?"

 

"I say let them go for it, Doc." This came from O'Neill.

 

"I'm, ah, with them," Daniel threw in, waving a hand in a vague gesture encompassing the cousins and the K'Rin'sha girl.

 

Fraiser visibly floundered for a moment, then came to a decision. "Alright," she nodded, signalling the SFs at Malloy’s door to move aside.

 

*******************************

 

Admitted at last to his son's room, MacGyver paused momentarily inside the doorway, more than a little shaken by the amount of medical equipment now surrounding the young man. Two nurses were also in close attendance, constantly checking the readings on the various monitors.

 

"We've had to put him on life support, Mac." MacGyver registered Janet Fraiser's professionally even voice.

 

            Nodding absently and vaguely aware of Fraiser talking reassuringly to Alaeya, the girl having followed him into the room,  MacGyver went to his son's bedside. “Oh, God... Sam... Hang in there, son,” he breathed softly. He reached for Sam's hand and gathered it up in both his own, his mind and his emotions in a complete turmoil.

 

"Whoa!" Janet Fraiser exclaimed in some consternation as she saw a sudden flare of swirling multi-coloured light form like a ball around the Phoenix operative's hands.

 

“It, ah, didn't do that with Jack,” Daniel observed with a frown. He and O'Neill had followed the others into the room. The Colonel was hovering just inside the doorway, attempting to keep a military neutral expression in place even while his dark eyes betrayed his feelings at the scene he was witnessing. Daniel, being ever curious, had stepped forward to the end of the bed where Fraiser and Alaeya were standing.

 

"It didn't?" This came from O'Neill as he struggled to keep control over the waves of raw emotion that were assaulting his senses through the odd, augmented link that existed between his cousin and himself, courtesy of the K'Rin'sha crystal in the other man's hand. Coming on top of his own feelings at the situation, it was almost more than he could handle, but he did the best he could and remained near to the door where he could tactfully escape if his tenuous control came too close for comfort to failing.

 

“Ah, no. With you it just....” Daniel began, glancing round. Distress flared in his eyes as he took in O'Neill's expression which, to anyone else in the room, was probably about as bleak and unreadable as it could get, but he knew the Colonel. “Jack, you...” he began to ask, only to be distracted as Alaeya declared.

 

“He is unfocused. He must focus."

 

“Right...” Daniel nodded and a look crossed his face which those who knew him well, recognised. It was Daniel's classic 'light bulb going on' expression. He moved purposefully around to the side of the bed where MacGyver was now perched, still holding Sam's hand.

 

"Daniel?" Fraiser began, only to fall silent as the archaeologist waved a hand at her in a distinctive 'not now' gesture.

 

"Mac? Mac, you need to still your mind the way D'Maya helped you do before, with Jack, and you need to focus. Mac? Mac, are you hearing me? You need to focus, Mac," Daniel spoke with earnest urgency to the visibly distracted Phoenix operative. "Mac?" He shot a distressed look at O'Neill that pleaded with him to do something. The look which O'Neill's dark eyes broadcast back to him said quite clearly that he would willingly help but hadn't a clue how.

 

Alaeya turned around to face the Colonel and extended her left hand, palm open and facing upwards.

 

“Take this,” she said and, as she spoke, a deep blue crystal became visible. It flared with a rich flare of electric blue and, as the flare died, the crystal seemed to emerge from the girl's flesh to rest loosely on her palm.

 

Fraiser let out a surprised exclamation and momentarily wondered how on earth she could have missed the crystal's presence when she had checked the girl out earlier. Daniel, on the other hand, looked fascinated as he bounded over for a closer look.

 

"That's not a Novice crystal, that's a full blown Mage crystal!" He enthused with unmistakable scientific delight at the realisation as he stared at the deep blue crystal.

 

"You are a Warrior Mage, a linked Guardian and, through the other, you are Blood,” Alaeya’s dark eyed gaze didn't waver from O'Neill. "Take it. It will enable you to aid the other to focus and to aid the young one."

 

“What? But I don't...” O'Neill began, his hands moving in an expressively 'lost' manner  which rather matched the expression of panic that flashed across his face.

           

"Take it, Jack." This came from Daniel. He looked up from the blue crystal to aim a 'Trust me on this, Jack’ look at the highly uncertain Colonel. O'Neill looked back at him as if suspecting he'd lost his marbles somewhere along the way. "Just take it, Jack. Mac's too close to this. He needs an anchor. And you're it. Take the crystal." O'Neill still looked dubious, but he stepped forward towards Alaeya and, visibly steeling himself, began to reach for the crystal with his right hand.

 

"Colonel?" Fraiser questioned, seeing a frown flicker across O'Neill's face as he froze in mid motion, then suddenly withdrew his right hand and extended his left one instead towards the crystal resting on Alaeya's palm. Daniel's hand on Fraiser's arm and the slight shake of the archaeologist's head silenced the doctor from further comment.

 

Uncertain as to what had prompted him to switch hands as he just had, O'Neill met Alaeya's dark eyed gaze as he closed his left hand carefully over the crystal she was offering him. He was a little surprised by the eerily familiar confidence and assurance that was in the girl's eyes. Suddenly less apprehensive, O'Neill took the crystal. Surprise flickered across his face when nothing dramatic happened. In fact nothing at all seemed to happen. He looked to Daniel, asking silent questions with his eyes.

 

Daniel shrugged in return. He didn't know the answers to the 'What now?' and 'Is that it?' questions being asked of him.

 

“Terrific...”  O’Neill muttered heavily. He turned his hand over, opened it and looked at the blue crystal resting on his palm. His expression changed and he visibly stiffened as he felt... He wasn't sure what exactly. It was akin to sticking one's finger in a live electrical socket  but without the pain normally associated with such a rash action. Whatever it was, it rippled through him. "WHOA!" He exclaimed as the crystal simultaneously glowed a brilliant, almost blinding electric blue and sank into the flesh of his palm. Reflexively he brought his right hand to his left to try to prise the crystal free.

 

"It is alright. It accepts you." Alaeya announced, nodding in a manner that could only be described as approving and more than a little reminiscent of her mother. She reached a hand to his arm and assured him. "It will not harm you."

 

"It accepts...?" O'Neill croaked in bewildered consternation. He looked first at the girl, then to Daniel.

 

“Mac had much the same reaction when they gave him the one he has, Jack,” Daniel observed helpfully, but with a distinct gleam of scientific fascination in his eyes. Fraiser stepped forward to examine the slightly stunned O'Neill's hand.

 

"It's in there pretty deep, sir," she said, probing gently at the seemingly undamaged flesh around the crystal now nestling happily and glowing a soft, gentle blue, in the Colonel's hand. "How do you feel, Colonel?" She asked, looking up at the man, who was staring incredulously at Daniel.

 

“Peachy. Just peachy, Doc,” O’Neill retorted dryly. "Okay,” he said, determinedly adopting a business like air, aware suddenly that he seemed to have more control over the bombardment of raw emotions that were still hammering at him from his cousin. "So what now?" He looked at Alaeya.

 

“Focus and anchor,” Alaeya answered, before turning away and moving to the side of Malloy's bed opposite to where MacGyver was still perching.

 

            “Focus and... anchor...” O’Neill repeated slowly, his expression denoting he hadn't a clue, but was willing to play along.

 

            "You okay, Jack?" Daniel shifted to stand a little closer to his best friend's side. He voiced his question quietly, but the concern in his blue eyes was unmistakable.

 

“I guess...”  O’Neill nodded absently as he tentatively explored the odd sensations that were washing through him and which seemed to be courtesy of the blue glowing rock embedded in his hand. He definitely had more control over the turmoil of raw emotion emanating from his cousin. He tried focusing on it. The control grew. A thought occurred to him. Tentatively he tried to broadcast calm to his cousin. He felt it ripple through the turmoil; somehow sensed his cousin latch onto it. “Okay, Mac...”  He murmured, suddenly understanding what Alaeya had told him about focusing and anchoring. "We can do this."

 

Daniel heard the soft murmur and saw the distancing look that was filtering into O'Neill's eyes. It did not alarm him. He had seen it before, on the world the K'Rin'sha called 'Sanctuary'. Only there, he had seen it in MacGyver's eyes when the Phoenix operative had consciously been using the K'Rin'sha technology to aid O'Neill. He looked to Alaeya and saw that she had set a small pouch down on the edge of Malloy's bed and that she now had a small green crystal resting on the palm of each hand. She smiled at him, then her eyes closed, the crystals flared a soft green and sank into her hands, where they continued to glow.

 

Fraiser, however, not having the advantage of having previously witnessed K'Rin'sha 'technology' being used, looked extremely worried as she witnessed O'Neill appear to withdraw to some far distant inner place. "Colonel?" She questioned anxiously. She was about to repeat herself when Daniel distracted her by stepping forward, catching her arm and drawing her aside while saying.

 

            "Ah, I really don't think you should distract him right now, Janet." He gave her a slightly anxious little smile, which was intended to reassure. "Mac kind of did that when he was helping Jack while we were on Sanctuary. He's okay. Don't worry."

 

Fraiser looked a tad sceptical. She cast her gaze over the scene before her which, even for the SGC, was somewhat out of the ordinary.

 

Firstly, there was Colonel O’Neill standing at the foot of Sam Malloy's bed, his dark eyes distant as if he were mentally miles away and the crystal embedded in his left palm pulsing with an almost hypnotic, rich blue glow. Then, at one side of her patient's bed, the young K'Rin'sha, Alaeya, was standing with her eyes closed. She had her hands held up before her and a small crystal was glowing greenly in each palm with a pulsing rhythm that seemed to match that of the crystal O'Neill had. And lastly, perched on the other side of the bed and appearing much calmer than he had looked only moments before, was MacGyver. He was holding his son's left hand in his own right, while his left hand now rested above Malloy's chest and was surrounded by a ball of blue white light that was tinged with green and growing slowly greener. The glow was also pulsing in time with that of the other crystals.

 

Fraiser looked to Daniel again, visibly about to ask a question.

 

"The K'Rin'sha call it 'Mage Focus'," Daniel said quietly. "They're helping Sam."

 

*******************************

 

“This could take a while, Janet,” Daniel said quietly, his arms folded tightly across his chest. He had just finished explaining to the petite medic what little he knew and understood about K'Rin'sha 'Mage Focus'. Fraiser had listened intently and asked a number of questions, some of which he had been able to answer and several which he had not. "All we can do now is wait and be ready to get some food in here fast when they're done. They'll probably be extremely hungry."

 

"Any idea how long?" Fraiser inquired, waving a hand vaguely at the seemingly frozen tableau surrounding Sam Malloy's bed. She saw Daniel shrug helplessly before she was distracted by a nurse who handed her a folder. Opening it, she scanned the contents and her heart sank. It must have shown on her face, for she heard Daniel ask what was wrong and the anxiety in his voice was unmistakable. "The results have just come through on the contents of that syringe you and the Colonel retrieved," she said, looking up into worried blue eyes. “It's a particularly nasty poison, South American in origin and- ”

 

“Doctor! His pressure's coming back up!” Fraiser was distracted by one of the I.C.U. nurses who had been keeping a continuous watch on the equipment that Malloy was hooked up to. "And he's starting to fight the respirator!"

 

Daniel kept out of the way as Fraiser went to check this news for herself while snapping orders in incomprehensible medicalese. Chewing at his lower lip, he watched as a positive flurry of medical activity broke out. One of the nurses rushed out only to return again a moment or two later while Janet and the remaining nurse worked around the three immobile forms of MacGyver, O'Neill and Alaeya. The deep green glow that surrounded MacGyver's left hand which was, by then, resting flat on Sam Malloy's chest flared brightly, a vivid, almost blinding green white. The brilliant blue glow emanating from the crystal embedded in O’Neill's hand flared blue white in response. The green glowing crystals in Alaeya's hands flared green and then winked out as the girl began to crumple. Only quick reflexes on Daniel's part stopped her from hitting the floor. He scooped her up and carried her out of the way.

 

A loud bellow from Fraiser brought more nursing staff and Teal'c, who had been hovering outside all the while. The Jaffa however, took only a couple of steps into the room before letting out a gasp that was as near to an expression of distress as anyone at the SGC had ever heard from him, began to hunch over, his arms folding across his belly then retreated hurriedly from the room again.

 

Despite his arms being full of a stirring Alaeya, whom a newly arrived nurse was now fussing over, Daniel did not miss Teal'c's reaction. Alarmed, he relinquished the girl to the nurse, rose to his feet and began to head through the milling chaos for the door to check on the Jaffa. He got precisely three paces before the glow emanating from the crystal in O'Neill's palm suddenly ceased. The Colonel swayed and reached automatically for something with which to try to steady himself. Daniel proved to be that something.

 

"Someone be ready to grab Mac!" Daniel yelled, catching O'Neill as the man's legs buckled. He carefully lowered the disorientated Colonel to a sitting position, cradled against him, on the floor. "Jack? Jack, can you hear me? Jack? You okay?"

 

"Whoa..." O'Neill breathed heavily, awe unmistakable in his voice, before blacking out.

 

Worriedly, Daniel checked the Colonel for a pulse and relaxed when he found it, beating strong and steady. Carefully he shifted his grip on the unconscious man and hauled him out of the way of the medics busily buzzing around Malloy's bed. He heard Alaeya's voice raised in weary protest, speaking K'Rin'sha primary, and saw the girl trying to bat away the nurse trying to check her over.

 

"Alaeya, it's okay, she's just one of our nurses...ah, Healers," Daniel tried to assure as he slid rapidly out of his jacket, which he folded and placed under O'Neill's head. "She's not going to hurt you."

 

"Nestu!" Alaeya exclaimed, evading the nurse and scrambling the short distance across the floor to where Daniel was kneeling beside O'Neill. Daniel frowned at the K'Rin'sha word, but before he had a chance to comment on the girl's usage of it, O'Neill came round abruptly, jerking up into a sitting position with something of a surprised exclamation.

 

"Jack! Easy, Jack!" Daniel took the precaution of speaking before he touched the Colonel's shoulder. Dark eyes blinked at him and Daniel saw the fight or flight reflex in them fade quickly, as the older man visibly relaxed. "You okay?"

 

"Fine," O'Neill answered immediately. Then shrugged slightly and confessed. "Bit tired." Then his attention alighted on Alaeya. "You okay, kiddo?" He asked. She nodded tiredly. O'Neill made to move, then appeared to change his mind and leaned back against the wall that was behind him. He allowed the nurse, who had been attempting to check Alaeya over, to take his pulse and then shooed the woman away with a few well chosen words.

 

"Jack?" Daniel was becoming more than a little concerned by this point.

 

"Alaeya..." O'Neill made a weary gesture that invited the girl to settle beside him which she did. The crystal in his left palm glowed a gentle, relaxed blue for a few moments as the K'Rin'sha girl leaned into him and he settled his arm around her in a protectively paternal manner. O'Neill then looked at Daniel and gave him a weary smile. "Go help Mac. We're fine. Just need to sit here a minute."

 

Jackson hesitated. O'Neill motioned with his free hand. The gesture said clearly: 'Go on'. Daniel rose to his feet, turned and saw that MacGyver was on his feet, heading a little unsteadily towards the three of them. He was leaning a hand on his son's bed for support while endeavouring to wave away a concerned nurse who was hovering anxiously beside him as if she expected him to keel over at any second. Fraiser and various other medical staff meanwhile were still busily fussing over Sam. Reflexively Daniel moved to relieve the nurse of the task of clucking concernedly over the shaky looking Phoenix operative.

 

A few moments later and with some reluctantly accepted assistance from his self appointed escort, MacGyver wearily settled himself onto the floor beside Jack and Alaeya.

 

"You guys okay?" He inquired, resting his head back against the wall and closing his eyes.

 

"Yeah." O'Neill answered. "Sam?"

 

"Think so." MacGyver answered. Opening his eyes, he blinked tiredly up at Daniel, who was hovering anxiously. "Daniel... "

 

"Yes, Mac?" Daniel dropped to a knee beside the man.

 

"Ya' got any more of those candy bars?"

 

*******************************

 

The expression on George Hammond's face bordered on uncomprehending incredulity as he listened to Janet Fraiser's report on what had so recently transpired in her domain. "Let me see if I've got this straight, Doctor," Hammond interrupted the torrent of medical jargon that was interspersed with a smattering of English. "Mr. Malloy was given a deadly poison - for which you have no antidote on base - but there's now no trace of the poison in his system?" The General was dubious as he stared at the petite medic standing at the other side of his desk, a pile of folders clutched to her chest by her folded arms.

 

"Yes, sir," Fraiser nodded.

 

"But if you don't have the antidote how...?"

 

“I have no idea, sir. Whatever Mr. MacGyver, Colonel O‘Neill and Alaeya did, it somehow purged the poison from Mr. Malloy's system. His latest blood tests show no sign of the poison, though they are now showing the presence of the same alien substance which is currently present in his father's blood and the Colonel's." Fraiser paused, then looked her superior directly in the eye and admitted. "General, I have no idea how they did it, but if they hadn't, then Mr. Malloy would be dead by now. There's no way we could have had the antidote to that particular poison here in time."

           

Hammond nodded slightly as he considered this. Fraiser, however, wasn't done yet.

 

"There's something else you should know, sir," she continued. "I still have a few further tests to run, but there are no longer any indications of any internal bleeding and many of the external signs of the surgery that was required to remove the bullet fragments, appear to be at a far more advanced stage of healing than they should be right now." The medic regarded the General with some concern. “Sir, I don't know how I'm going to explain this to Mr. Malloy. Given his background, he's bound to be aware that bullet wounds and major surgery don't ordinarily heal as fast as this....”

 

“I'll have a talk with him,” Hammond interrupted, his expression grimly pensive. "What about Colonel O'Neill and the others?"

 

“They’re asleep in the infirmary, sir,” Fraiser answered crisply.

 

"Asleep?" Hammond's eyebrows went in search of his non existent hairline.

 

"Er, yes, sir." Fraiser nodded. "According to Doctor Jackson, this is a 'normal' response to intense usage of the healing aspects of the K'Rin'sha technology. At least, from what he witnessed on 'Sanctuary', it's a normal side effect for Mr. MacGyver, so he believes it's probably normal for the Colonel too."

 

"And the girl?"

 

Fraiser shrugged. "Doctor Jackson isn't sure, but he thinks that because she's a 'Novice', it's probably nothing we need to worry about.  He also says we should leave the three of them to sleep for as long as they need to, which could be another ten minutes, or it could be several hours. And be ready to feed them all when they do awaken." Fraiser paused before continuing. "After which they may, or may not, go to sleep on us again." She frowned. “He and Mr. MacGyver have a theory that usage of the crystals sends the human body's metabolism into some sort of overdrive.”

 

“But they are alright?” Hammond interrupted. There were times when he truly sympathised with O’Neill's constant attempts to dispense with the scientific technicalities of a situation and just cut straight to the chase. This was one of them.

 

"As far as I can tell, sir, they're fine. All the earlier tests I ran indicated the Colonel and Mr. MacGyver to be in excellent health, though they've both lost a noticeable amount of weight." Fraiser answered.

 

"What about Teal'c?" The General asked. "You said something about an apparently adverse effect?"

 

“Ah, yes, sir. Teal'c came into Mr. Malloy's room while the K'Rin'sha crystals were still being used and his symbiote apparently experienced a great deal of pain, which diminished as soon as Teal'c left the room again.”

 

"But Teal'c and the symbiote are alright?"

 

"Yes, sir. They both seem fine now. In fact Teal'c has insisted on standing guard over Mister Malloy again." Fraiser responded. "And Doctor Jackson's sitting with the others since he's more familiar with the side effects of this alien technology than anyone else here, apart from the K'Rin'sha themselves."

 

"Thank you, Doctor Fraiser."

 

"General." The Doctor nodded and headed for the door of Hammond's office, recognising dismissal when she heard it.

 

Hammond sat in thought for a few moments, before he reached for the black phone resting on his desk. "This is Hammond. Would you have someone inform our K'Rin'sha guests that I should like to see them in the briefing room. Now." After hanging up, he scowled pensively at the phone for a moment, then picked it up again. "Hammond. Page Captain Carter and have her report to me in the briefing room immediately." He hung up again, sighed deeply, rose to his feet and headed for the briefing room himself.

 

*******************************

 

"Would you care to explain to us how your daughter was able to leave the VIP quarters and make her way down to our infirmary without anyone on this base seeing her?" Hammond inquired of the two K'Rin'sha seated to his left around the big conference table. His tone was polite, but at the same time indicated determination to get some answers which he could comprehend.

           

"I've looked at the security tapes for that level, for the time period in question, sir," Sam Carter chimed in. "Aside from the door to the guest quarters opening once for no apparent reason, there's no sign of anyone either entering or leaving." She then looked across the table at the SGC's alien guests and added. "She is on the security tapes for the infirmary though." She looked back to Hammond, whose expression invited her to continue. "She just appears, sir, seemingly from nowhere."

 

"Just appears?" The General questioned, waving a hand vaguely. "From nowhere?" He sounded about as sceptical as he looked.

 

"Yes, sir. One moment there's no sign of her and then she just... appears, sir. Like she stepped out of thin air." Carter looked across at the K'Rin'sha again. Her expression a mixture of accusation and burning scientific curiosity.

           

Hammond looked at the seated K'Rin'sha again.

 

"She is young, but she is adept," Seeba smiled. There was unmistakable pride in her manner.

 

"I spoke to Daniel, sir. He said she had the 'Mage' crystal which the Colonel, Colonel O'Neill I mean now has." Carter clarified who she was referring to just in case there might be any confusion in her superior's mind on that particular point. She looked across the table again. "And that has me a little confused. I understood from what was said earlier, that 'Mage' crystals couldn’t be used by 'Novices'."

 

"Novices have neither the capacity nor the experience to use the more powerful 'Mage' crystals, especially those of the level which your Colonel O'Neill now possesses. Even 'Adepts' on the brink of advancement to the lowest level of any Guardian Circle would be hard pressed to use a crystal of that level with any proficiency or degree of safety. It is, after all, a Prime Mage Crystal." It was R'Fyaa who answered. "There are however, some Novices who have the ability to carry certain higher level crystals of their First House, in concealment, on behalf of the crystal's true user." He smiled as he added. "Or in this case users." A more serious expression replaced the smile. "It is a rare ability and generally appears only in certain bloodlines."

 

"You mean it's hereditary?" Carter summed up.

 

"Yes." R'Fyaa nodded.

 

"Which is all well and good, but doesn't explain how Alaeya apparently materialized out of nowhere, in our infirmary, when she was supposed to be in the VIP suite with yourselves." Hammond was attempting to be patient, but there was an edge to his tone that suggested he wasn't being too successful.

 

"I've been thinking about that, sir," Carter chimed in. "Remember the Nox? And the Tolans? This could be some kind of similar stealth technology."

 

"And you think this is the same thing?" Hammond looked as if he suspected they might actually be starting to get somewhere. Before Carter could answer though, R'Fyaa spoke.

 

"Stealth technology?" The dark robed alien murmured pensively, frowning as if a little bemused by the phrase. Then, just as Carter was about to launch into an explanation of the terminology, R'Fyaa smiled suddenly at her. It was a smile filled with warmth and no small amount of enlightened amusement. "Ah!"  He said. "What a delightful way of describing it. Yes. I suppose it could be so described."

 

"So then you both could...?" Carter began, with the intensity of a scientist hot on the trail of the proof of a theory.

 

“We are not Mages,” R'Fyaa responded.

 

“I know that, but you...” Carter looked confused.

 

“Captain?” Hammond looked rather as if his earlier hopes that they were getting somewhere had just been severely dented.

 

"If you will permit, General Hammond," Seeba spoke for the first time in a while. Her blind gaze alighted on the SGC's C.O. "I should like to see my daughter now."

 

The General was caught a little off guard by the request, coming as it did from apparently out of left field. He had earlier informed the woman that her daughter was asleep in the infirmary, watched over by Daniel and Doctor Fraiser.  She had merely smiled at him and nodded as if he were telling her nothing she didn't already know. "Yes. Yes, of course." Hammond nodded. He rose courteously to his feet as Seeba rose to hers. R'Fyaa and Carter also got up.

 

"And if I may, General, I should like to speak further with your young Keeper, Daniel," R'Fyaa requested.

 

“I'll have him come...” Hammond began.

 

“No.” R'Fyaa shook his head. "He should not be called away from his companions. With your permission, I will go to him."

 

Hammond considered. He still didn't have the answers he wanted to the myriad questions he had, but it occurred to him that Jackson just might have more luck in that department. During the earlier 'talks' which the archaeologist had sat in on, Hammond had noticed that the young man and the older, dark robed alien, had seemed to strike up something of a rapport which had probably been helped by the fact that Jackson was able to converse with the alien in the latter's own language. Watching the two switching back and forth between languages had been quite an experience; Daniel pausing now and then to translate when he realised they were leaving the General totally in the dark. Hammond had begun to appreciate why O'Neill often maintained it was sometimes best to just sit back and let the linguist get on with it and wait for the edited highlights when he was done.

 

"Very well." The General nodded. “Captain Carter, would you escort our guests?”

 

"Sir..." The Captain nodded.

 

*******************************

 

Sipping at the mug of steaming hot coffee provided by one of Janet Fraiser's nurses, Daniel shifted in the chair which he occupied between the beds of MacGyver and O’Neill, who were sleeping quietly. Rising to his feet, Daniel tried to ease threatening stiffness out of various muscles. His attention was immediately drawn to MacGyver as the Phoenix man shifted in his sleep, moving onto his left side with a soft sigh. The move rendered the older man's left palm readily visible. Daniel saw that the crystal embedded there was glowing a soft green again.

 

The sound and movement of a cubicle curtain being drawn back on the other side of the infirmary distracted Daniel. He looked over. A very much wide awake Alaeya was sitting with her legs over the side of the bed upon which she had spent the best part of the previous hour resting. Janet was standing beside the girl, stethoscope draped around her neck and her hands in the pockets of her white coat, saying something which Daniel couldn't quite make out. The nurse who had drawn the curtain back was heading off down the ward with the air of someone with a purpose.

 

Daniel cast a glance at MacGyver and O'Neill, then ventured over to where the alien girl and the Doctor were. "Everything okay?" The archaeologist asked tentatively, not sure whether or not his presence would be considered an intrusion.

 

"Everything is fine, Daniel." Fraiser cast a confident smile at him. "Alaeya's just a little hungry now. I've sent Nurse Hemley to fetch her something from the mess hall."

 

"I really don't need to be waited on, Doctor Fraiser." There was a hint of indignant protest in Alaeya's voice. “I am fine. I could have easily have walked to- ”

 

“I'm sure you could, Alaeya,” Fraiser smiled reassuringly. “I'd just prefer it if you remained here a little longer, so I can keep an eye on you. I know what Doctor Jackson told me about the side effects of usage of those crystals, but as he has also pointed out, you are in your own people's terms a 'Novice' and I- ”

 

“I did very little,” Alaeya said with a slight shrug. "The Guardians did that which needed to be done."

 

"Even so. I'd be happier if you stayed here a little longer. At least until you've had something to eat." Fraiser insisted. Alaeya sighed and nodded with reluctant capitulation.

 

Across the ward, O'Neill shifted, emitting an odd sound as he did so. Excusing herself, Fraiser went to check on the Colonel, leaving Daniel with Alaeya. Jackson’s attention, which had gone towards O'Neill immediately upon hearing him stir, returned to Alaeya as the Colonel seemed to settle again even before Fraiser reached his side.

 

"I'm curious, Alaeya," Daniel said. He indicated the space beside her on the bed. "May I?" He asked. The girl nodded, so Daniel manoeuvred himself to sit beside her, careful of spilling his hot coffee as he did so. “I know that was a 'Mage' crystal you gave Jack, but you're a ‘Novice’ not even an 'Adept'. I know I don't fully understand how your people's technology works, but I thought...”

 

“I cannot yet use crystals of such power, it is true, but to simply carry one is a different matter,” Alaeya answered as Daniel sipped at his coffee.

 

"So can all 'Novices' carry crystals?" Daniel began pensively.

 

“No,” Alaeya shook her head. "It is an ability only some of us have and even then it is very limited." Her gaze went past him towards the two men slumbering peacefully on the other side of the room. "That crystal belongs to them."

 

Daniel frowned slightly at that. Before he could pursue it though, Alaeya's mother arrived, with R'Fyaa, Melia, and Sam Carter in tow.

 

*******************************

 

O’Neill awakened slowly, his awareness registering a number of things almost simultaneously. He was in the infirmary at the SGC. Mac was not in close proximity, but was awake and occupied with something. Malloy was much closer and was asleep. Alaeya was an odd echo on the far edges of his senses that he couldn't quite pin down. And another presence, both comfortable and familiar, was close by.

 

Without even opening his eyes, O’Neill just 'knew' all these things, though he had no idea how he knew them. Then it occurred to him. Perhaps it has something to do with that alien crystal thingy Alaeya gave me? That thought and the memories it triggered, abruptly brought O'Neill to full wakefulness. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed with a suddenness that startled Daniel who, he discovered, was sitting in a chair drawn up close to his bedside, a fairly hefty text book and a notebook of hand written notes balanced rather precariously on his knee.

 

"Wh-wh...Jack? You okay?" Daniel questioned, anxious concern radiating from his blue eyes as he shoved slipping glasses back up his nose while the textbook hit the floor with a decided thump. The notebook went with it.

 

"Yeah," O'Neill nodded. "Aside from my stomach thinking my throat’s been cut." His stomach rumbled in a quite spectacular fashion as if agreeing whole heartedly with that particular sentiment. Ignoring it, he surveyed the infirmary, noting that all was quiet and hardly anyone seemed to be about. Wondering how long he'd been out of things this time, he made to check the wristwatch that he wasn't wearing. "How long have I  been out?"

 

“About five hours,” Daniel offered, consulting his own watch. He couldn't help but smile at the startled look that crossed the older man's face. “Mac woke up almost two hours ago, checked on Sam...” He saw the question that immediately flashed across the Colonel's face.  “...Who is doing just fine.” O'Neill visibly relaxed. Daniel continued. “Then he had something to eat before Janet checked him over again and gave him a clean bill of health. I think he's in the- ”

 

“Briefing room,” O'Neill said absently, without even thinking about it.

 

"Ah..." Daniel's jaw dropped slightly. "I think so, yeah." The archaeologist frowned slightly, but continued. “He said something about debriefing with the General and finishing up what he- ”

 

“And Carter were doing before Grierson tried to take Sam out.”

 

"Yes, but how...?"

 

O'Neill shrugged expressively and his gaze dropped to the deep blue crystal embedded in his left hand. It was glowing very softly.

 

"Oh." Daniel said, his expression reminiscent of a fish out of water. Then it changed to one of fascinated curiosity. "You can tell where Mac is and what he's doing, using that?" He asked, indicating the glowing crystal.

 

"I... Uh...Sorta'." The Colonel's stomach rattled loudly again. "I really gotta' hit the mess hall." He said, rising to his feet. "Whoa!" He exclaimed as the world suddenly tilted. He leaned back against the bed, aware of Daniel leaping to his side in an instant and worriedly asking him if he was okay.

 

//Take it easy, Jack.//

 

O'Neill jumped slightly as the caution from MacGyver resonated softly inside his head. //You wanna' give a guy some warnin' before ya' do that?// He shot back indignantly. He felt an unmistakable apology ripple through his senses.

 

"Jack?" Daniel was frowning anxiously, clearly at a loss to understand what had caused the startled look which he had seen flash across his friend's face.

 

O'Neill began to make a dismissive gesture, but halted it in mid movement as a new realisation struck him. He reached to push his right sleeve well up his forearm.

 

"Ah...The rest of it came off while you were asleep," Daniel said helpfully, anticipating questions concerning the disappearance of the disintegrating alien cast that had still been on the Colonel's arm when Jack had fallen asleep.

 

"Cool..." O'Neill murmured. "Sure beats the Doc's chainsaw," he remarked, referring to the small, saw like device Fraiser normally used in the removal of plaster casts. He rubbed his arm briskly for a moment and flexed his hand. His stomach rumbled again as if endeavouring to impersonate a small volcano in full eruption.

 

//I'll meet you in the mess hall in fifteen minutes.// O'Neill heard MacGyver’s voice resonate inside his mind again. //You need to eat.//

 

"Yes, Mom..." O'Neill muttered heavily.

 

"Jack?" Daniel eyed the Colonel a little dubiously.

 

"Just Mac....Oh, never mind," O'Neill said. "I'm gonna' look in on Sam, then I'll be in the mess hall with Mac if anyone's lookin' for me." He began to head for the side ward outside of which Teal'c was sitting on the floor, apparently in a deep state of Kel'no'reem.

 

"Are you well, O'Neill?" The Jaffa's voice rumbled the inquiry.

 

"I'm fine, Teal'c. Thanks." O'Neill paused at the doorway, to look down at the Jaffa, who had not moved. "Daniel says the kid's doin' okay... "

 

"No one will attempt further harm to SamMalloy." Teal'c stated, opening his eyes and looking up at the Colonel. "I give you my word on this, O'Neill, as I gave it to his father earlier." Teal'c's tone was calmly determined. "I will permit no one but Doctor Fraiser to attend him." Although the Jaffa's face was as unreadable as ever, his eyes informed O'Neill in no uncertain terms that anyone who so much as looked sideways at Malloy would be torn limb from limb, in a very messy and painful manner, in about nothing flat. The Jaffa's eyes also informed O'Neill that nothing was going to prise him away from the task of guarding the journalist, short of a full scale Goa'uld attack on the SGC. And even then he would defend the young human to the death, just as he would defend any of his team mates.

 

"Thanks, Teal'c." Swallowing down a sudden lump in his throat, O'Neill reached out and squeezed the Jaffa's shoulder. Teal'c merely tilted his head slightly in acknowledgement of his friend's gratitude, then closed his eyes and went back to his Kel'no'reem as O'Neill stepped past him into Malloy's room.

 

*******************************

 

"Stop hovering, Daniel. I don't need a nursemaid. I’m fine," O’Neill insisted irritably as he neared the entrance to the Mess Hall. Jackson had accompanied him from the infirmary.

 

"Did I say you weren't?" Daniel responded mildly. Even had Janet Fraiser not ambushed O'Neill as he had emerged from Sam Malloy's room and insisted on performing a quick check up on him before firmly insisting that Daniel accompany the Colonel to the Mess Hall, Daniel would have done so anyway. Having witnessed, on 'Sanctuary', the after effects MacGyver had initially experienced from using the healing aspects of the K'Rin'sha crystal technology, Daniel wanted to keep an eye on the Colonel until he was sure, in his own mind, that he was okay. And he was glad he had.

 

He knew O'Neill; knew him well enough to know he was feeling a little light headed, even though the Colonel was doing an excellent job of trying to hide the fact. He hadn't missed the hand that Jack had at one point surreptitiously placed on the wall of the elevator as they had been riding up to the Mess Hall level. Nor had he missed the equally surreptitious way in which the Colonel had given his head a little shake as they had left the elevator and begun to walk along the corridor. Daniel knew better than to make any mention of these observations, but he stayed close to O'Neill's side, ready to catch him in the event will power failed him and he keeled over. Daniel had thought he had been discreet enough in his watchfulness for O'Neill not to have noticed. Apparently he was wrong. O'Neill clearly had noticed. And he was not a happy camper.

 

"If it's a choice between ticking you off and getting Janet mad at me... " Daniel retorted in response to 'The Look' the Colonel graced him with. "Well, she's got all these big sharp, shiny needles. And an endless supply of rubber gloves."

 

O'Neill shuddered expressively at that picturesque reminder. Frequent medical exams,  some of which were of an extremely intimate nature, were one of the drawbacks of being members of a well travelled SG team. And shots. Lots of shots for who the hell knew what half the time.

 

"Whereas I'm merely a humble ex Special Ops Colonel and I'd just simply kill you. Right?" He looked at Daniel, who ducked his head while at the same time giving him a little half shy smile, which was as eloquent a response to the observation as any. "Right..." O'Neill sighed resignedly. If he had to have a shadow, at least Fraiser had had the good sense to assign Daniel, rather than some SF. Jackson was a shadow he could live with. If he had to.

 

Daniel accompanied him into the Mess Hall. It was relatively quiet. Consequently it was easy to spot MacGyver. The Phoenix operative was at the far end of the room, nursing a large glass of milk while appearing to be in conversation with Lou Ferretti. A neat stack of dirty crockery sat to one side of the table.

 

"You ah, want to go join Mac and I'll go get us something to eat?" Daniel offered. It was the most tactful way he could think of to get O'Neill to sit down before he fell down. He saw the Colonel hesitate. He also saw MacGyver look across at them both at the same moment. Then he heard O'Neill sigh softly before the man said.

 

"Okay... Surprise me. Find something in this place that's remotely edible."

 

"Do my best," Daniel tried to keep an amused smile at bay, but it escaped him anyway as he headed for the serving counter while O'Neill headed off towards MacGyver.

 

As the Colonel drew near to where Mac and Ferretti were sitting, Ferretti's voice reached him.

 

“So there was Daniel, bouncing every which way as the great hairy critter dragged him up and down the biggest sand dunes you're ever likely to see anywhere. You shoulda' seen the Colonel's face. Boy was he pissed. He- ”

 

Ferretti stopped abruptly as he suddenly became aware of an ominous presence looming behind him. He swallowed. He gave MacGyver an 'I'm about to be dead aren't I?' look. Sympathy mingled with an amused twinkle in the Phoenix operative's eyes. "Uh... Hey, Colonel..." Ferretti looked round and up at the figure that scowled spectacularly at him.

 

"Major," O'Neill acknowledged.

 

“I was just telling Mac about that time on Abydos when...” Ferretti suddenly seemed to realise the hole he was digging was only going to get deeper. "Ah hell, is that the time?" He made a vague semblance of checking his wristwatch. "Excuse me, Mac. Just remembered... I got an urgent appointment with an MP-5 an' a can of gun oil." Ferretti rose to his feet even as he rattled out his apology at top speed. "Colonel O'Neill, sir." He threw in rapidly but with suitable military respect for rank before executing a full tactical withdrawal from the potential war zone and taking off across the Mess Hall with a turn of speed an F-16 would have envied.

 

O'Neill smirked and sat down, automatically choosing the chair that afforded him the second best line of sight of the room in general since MacGyver was already occupying the more advantageous, back to the wall seat.

 

"Jack..." MacGyver gave his cousin a look that echoed the disapproval in his tone.

 

"What?" O'Neill feigned ignorance.

 

"That was not nice," MacGyver accused.

 

"Hey, I start being 'nice' to folk around here, not only will it ruin my rep, but Fraiser'll have me back in the damn' infirmary so fast it'll make your head spin."

 

MacGyver shook his head despairingly.

 

"Hey... What's with Ferretti?" Daniel arrived just then, armed with a laden tray. "Last time I saw him move that fast was that time at O'Malley's when someone told him there were a bunch of Marines in the parking lot, spraying his brand new car with jungle camouflage paint."

 

"You need to ask?" MacGyver inclined his head significantly in Jack’s direction. Daniel took one look at the innocent expression on O'Neill's face. Enlightenment dawned.

 

"Oh." He set the tray down.

 

"Hey, where's the pie? You didn't get pie," O'Neill griped as a heaped plate of lasagne and salad was deposited before him. "I wanted pie," he complained petulantly. "Don't they have pie? They always have pie."

 

Daniel sighed exasperatedly. "Jack, do you see room here for pie?" He unloaded a plate of lasagne and salad for himself, plus a couple of smaller plates with slices of buttered bread, while MacGyver reached to lift two steaming mugs of coffee from the tray.

 

"There is now," O'Neill helpfully pointed out as a handful of cutlery followed the crockery onto the table. Daniel glared, but refused to rise to the bait as MacGyver relieved him of the newly emptied tray and began to stack it with Ferretti's abandoned crockery.

 

"Just shut up and eat, Jack," he said, settling himself into the seat so hurriedly vacated earlier by Ferretti. "Or do I get Doctor Fraiser up here?" He received a look of mock horror from O'Neill for his trouble.

 

MacGyver tried to hide an amused smile as he shifted and stretched to deposit the tray full of debris on an adjacent, unoccupied table. He knew just how annoying his cousin could be when he put his mind to it. Daniel, he noted with silent inward approval, seemed more than capable of handling it however.

 

"So," O'Neill said a few minutes later after having ravenously devoured a goodly portion of his meal. "I miss anything?"

 

"Finished up those pictures with Captain Carter," MacGyver answered. He set down the half consumed glass of milk which he had been nursing while O'Neill had been hoovering his lasagne and fished in the breast pocket of his fatigues. "General Hammond had copies sent to the local cops," he continued as he produced some folded papers which he offered to his cousin, "an' I've got some people at Phoenix on 'em too."

 

O'Neill reached for and unfolded the papers. He frowned in pensive frustration as he studied the images which were revealed. They were unfamiliar to him. "Sweet," he murmured darkly, his tone indicating that the men in the pictures weren't likely to survive the encounter intact if their paths ever crossed his.

 

"Your Sam's pretty sure about those two," MacGyver indicated appropriately, "but not so sure about number three. I'll run 'em by my Sam tomorrow if he's up to it  and see what he thinks."

 

O'Neill passed the pictures to Daniel. "These goons ring any bells with you?"

 

"What?" Daniel blinked in surprise over a forkful of lasagne as the pictures were pushed in his direction. O'Neill's attention, however, was focused on MacGyver.

 

"Spill it, Mac," the Colonel invited.

 

The heavy sigh that MacGyver emitted distracted Daniel's attention away from the pictures O'Neill had shoved at him. Daniel felt an odd sinking feeling wash through him. The Phoenix operative's features bore a grim expression that suggested bad news was in the offing.

 

"The Airman who tried to poison Sam," MacGyver shot an apologetic look Daniel's way as the archaeologist visibly shuddered, then his grim expression returned as he looked at O'Neill and stated. "His family is dead."

 

"How?" The demand from O'Neill was bleak.

 

"Wh-what?" Daniel nearly choked on the mouthful of food he was chewing. O'Neill reached, almost reflexively, to thump him sharply on the back a couple of times.

 

"Gas," MacGyver responded grimly. He regarded his cousin. "The security team you ordered sent out to check out his place reported it was full of gas. Grierson's wife and their twin babies were all dead. We'll need to wait for the official autopsies, but it looks like they were probably already dead by the time Grierson was coming in through security here."

 

"B-but it was an accident, right?" Daniel coughed. His tone was hopeful, but his eyes betrayed that he realised the hope was probably a forlorn one.

 

"The apartment was booby trapped to blow the minute anyone went in the door. The General told me it took the bomb squad nearly an hour just to gain access without blowing themselves, the entire building and half a block to smithereens." MacGyver directly met O'Neill's grim gaze. "It was a professional job, Jack. If you hadn't warned your security people to watch their step..." MacGyver didn't need to say more in that regard. O'Neill's expression was eloquent. The epithets the Colonel muttered under his breath were equally eloquent.

 

"Way I read it," MacGyver went on. “It was- ”

 

“Meant to shut Grierson up permanently and destroy any evidence that he'd been coerced into doing what he did,” O'Neill interjected. Venom and cold fury positively dripped from his words. "While making it look like nothing more than a tragic accident. Sweet."

           

"What?" Daniel looked as if he was having a little trouble comprehending the sheer nastiness of the situation. “You mean even if Grierson had succeeded in getting out of the mountain he'd- ”

 

“He was dead anyway.” O'Neill cut in bleakly.

 

“But that's...” Daniel looked horrified as full realisation began to dawn.

 

“How these 'Dark Side' types do things, Daniel,” O'Neill snapped bitterly. "Doesn't matter how many innocent people get killed along the way just so long as the objective is achieved." He leaned back in his seat and wiped his hands over his face in a wearily frustrated manner. Then his dark eyed gaze alighted on MacGyver, who was staring into the dregs of his glass of milk. "The kid sure knows how to find deep shit." O'Neill observed heavily.

 

"Kinda' runs in the family," MacGyver responded grimly.

 

"Yeah..." O'Neill conceded heavily. "Guess it does at that."

 

*******************************

           

The news about the late Airman Grierson's family put something of a dampener on O'Neill's enthusiasm for the food still sitting in front of him. His body, however, demanded that he continue to feed it, so he ate, mechanically cleaning his plate, as he discussed the whole messy situation with MacGyver.

 

Daniel presently went to get more coffee and came back with a double portion of apple, sultana and cinnamon pie complete with lashings of thick cream, which he stuck in front of the Colonel, along with one of the two refilled coffee mugs. O'Neill was several mouthfuls into the pie before he realised what he was doing. He shot Daniel a glare, but it was water off a duck's back. Daniel merely gave him an innocent look in return which said: 'You wanted pie. You got pie so shut up and eat it'.

 

MacGyver caught the look, read it as easily as his cousin did and couldn't help an amused smile. O'Neill noticed. And naturally he had to comment. Good natured sarcasm flowed freely between the two men for a while as short work was duly made of the rest of the pie and the general mood around the table quickly began to lighten as Daniel found himself unceremoniously dragged into the fast flying banter.

 

When the conversation drifted to ice hockey, Daniel quickly realised that MacGyver was just as fervent a fan of the sport as O'Neill was. Groaning quietly to himself, he sat back to watch the two men as they launched into an earnest debate over the merits or otherwise of various teams and whether the LA Kings were a better team than the Chicago Blackhawks. Hockey was not Daniel's 'thing'. In fact 'sport' in general, pretty much left him cold. Historical documentaries on the other hand...

 

As he observed the growing intensity of the discussion that was being conducted, Daniel pondered the probability of being able to successfully sneak off without his departure being noticed. Then he found himself unexpectedly handed a golden opportunity as MacGyver turned to him and asked what he thought about something. Daniel had no idea what he was talking about, since he'd not been paying attention. "I think," he answered, grabbing the 'out' with both hands, "I'm going to go take another look over some of the notes and stuff I brought back from 'Sanctuary'." He rose to his feet as he uttered the pronouncement. "I'll, ah, see you guys in the morning. Okay?"

 

"I take it you're not a hockey fan?" MacGyver looked a little surprised by the concept of anyone not being a hockey fan. "I thought you and the rest of the team regularly watch games at Jack's?"

 

"Only because he hogs the remote and won't watch anything else!" Daniel retorted.

 

"Haveta!" O'Neill insisted defensively. "He won't watch anything but 'The Discovery Channel' otherwise! An' Carter's just as bad!"

 

"Hey, there's some pretty interesting stuff on there sometimes, Jack!" MacGyver pointed out.

 

"That's what I keep telling him!" Daniel looked delighted at having unexpectedly discovered an ally.

 

"Oh for cryin' out loud! Heaven preserve me from scientists!" O'Neill rolled his eyes and threw up his hands despairingly. "Don't tell me you'd rather watch that... that... stuff than hockey?" He looked askance at his cousin.

 

"Goodnight, guys." Daniel couldn't contain a quiet chuckle. He had a feeling he'd just managed to set a cat among the pigeons. Fleetingly he wondered if he should hang around and watch the feathers fly, but decided to quit while he was ahead and still breathing. Still smiling to himself, he began to walk away, aware of a heated exchange breaking out in his wake. He didn't get more than a few paces though before he heard.

 

"Daniel!"

 

"Jack?" He responded, halting to look round.

 

"Do me a favour and stay on the base tonight. Okay?"

 

"Ah...Why?"

 

"Because."

 

"Because?"

 

"Because," O'Neill confirmed.

 

"Uh-huh..." Daniel said slowly, pensively. He returned the few paces to stand behind the chair he had just vacated, folded his arms across his chest and regarded his team mate intently. O'Neill's facial expression was giving nothing away. His dark eyes were a different matter however. They spoke volumes. Daniel looked to MacGyver. The Phoenix operative's face was easy to read and confirmed what O'Neill's eyes were so eloquently telling him. Daniel looked back to O'Neill and nodded slowly. He understood.

 

"Because of Maybourne," he stated. He saw the little shrug O'Neill threw back. It too, spoke volumes to him.

 

"Daniel, these guys tracked Sam to Jack's place, then they tracked him here," MacGyver reasoned earnestly. “They may, or may not, have figured out his connection to Jack, but if this Maybourne character is involved, then they're certainly aware- ”

 

“That I'm on Jack's team.” Daniel regarded MacGyver. He was ahead of him. "And you both think he might try to use me against Jack, to get to Sam."

 

"Yeah," MacGyver nodded. "And I'd prefer not to have Jack put in that position or you either for that matter, Daniel. These guys, whoever they are, have no qualms about killing innocent people."

 

"Okay," Daniel agreed. There was no way he wanted Jack put in that position either. No way he was going to put Jack or MacGyver in the position of having to choose between a friend and family. And he knew fine that the two men were trying to protect him as much as protect Sam Malloy and themselves.  He could play the protective game too however. "Okay guys, I'll stay on the base tonight." They visibly relaxed until he added the rider. "On one condition..." Two sets of dark eyes fastened on him in a manner that would probably have had even the most seasoned Sergeant Major quaking in his boots. Daniel had expected the reaction and he held his ground. "You two don't try any of that sneaking off the base stuff you were talking about earlier."

 

"Hey!" O'Neill was a picture of absolute innocence mingled with suitably affronted indignation at the very suggestion that he would do such a thing; especially when it was against orders.

 

"Either of you." Daniel fixed a steely eyed look on MacGyver, who also looked momentarily affronted. "I mean it." Daniel's gaze shifted to encompass both cousins. He saw MacGyver look at O'Neill.

 

"Thought we'd decided to stay put?”

 

“In case Sam- ” O'Neill nodded sombrely.

 

“Needs us again,” MacGyver finished.

 

"Guess he missed that," O'Neill observed. Then he shook his head sadly. "Kids these days. They hear a few postulations being thrown around...Jump to rash conclusions...Ignore the wisdom and experience of their elders. It's sad really."

 

"Yeah," MacGyver nodded in apparent commiseration.

 

Daniel, meanwhile, was doing an impersonation of a fish out of water and was gawping incredulously at them. "Postulations...?" He managed to squeak.

 

"What? Too big a word for ya', Danny boy?" O'Neill positively oozed innocence and his dark eyes twinkled with mischief. A discreet cough distracted him. A female airman had arrived and was tactfully trying to butt in without landing herself on the wrong side of the Wrath of God or at least the wrong side of the Wrath of O'Neill. He beamed expansively at the airman. "Yes, Airman? What can I do for you?"

 

"Sorry to intrude, Colonel, but the K'Rin'sha woman, S'Baya, has asked to speak with you in their quarters." The poor woman looked like she was having trouble maintaining strict military detachment as she stared fixedly at a point somewhere beyond the Colonel's right ear.

 

"I'll be right there, Airman." O'Neill answered with a conviviality that clearly disconcerted the unfortunate airman.

 

"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!" The airman responded smartly and high tailed it with as much speed as she could politely get away with and at the same time retain military dignity.

 

Daniel was still doing his impersonation of a beached fish, but had added incoherent sputtering to the repertoire. O'Neill rose to his feet and clapped him companionably on the shoulder, grinning.

 

"Catchya' later, Danny boy." With that, O'Neill departed in the Airman's wake and Daniel was left still sputtering. The archaeologist switched his attention to MacGyver as, out of the corner of his eye, he registered that he was moving.

 

"Relax, Daniel." The Phoenix operative smiled reassuringly as he clambered to his feet. "Neither of us have plans to sneak off anywhere tonight. 'Sides..." His smile turned a little wry. "I don't think there's much chance of either of us going anywhere right now without the other knowing about it." He displayed his left palm just long enough for Daniel to observe that the K'Rin'sha crystal was active again and glowing a soft blue white.

 

"Um... I noticed Jack seemed to know exactly where you were when he ah, woke up in the infirmary," Daniel observed. "I'm guessing that has something to do with him having one of those crystals now too, huh?"

 

"I guess," MacGyver conceded pensively. He then changed the subject before Daniel could launch into any theories or conjectures. "Listen, I'm gonna' go down to the infirmary an' sit with Sam again for a while. Then I think maybe I'll turn in. It's been a long day, one way and another. Wanna' catch the elevator with me?"

 

"Yeah, okay, Mac."

 

"Hey, you see that thing on 'Discovery' last month, linking the origins of the Egyptian pyramids to the step pyramids in South America?" MacGyver asked as they traversed the room, Daniel falling into step beside him.

 

"Oh yes," Daniel nodded vehemently and was earnestly bending the older man's ear on the subject before they even reached the door.

 

*******************************

 

O’Neill knocked on the door of one of the VIP rooms. Almost immediately he heard a voice from within tell him to enter. Within seconds of his obeying the instruction, he found himself pounced upon by a bundle of exuberant five year old, who was clearly delighted to see him.

 

"Melia, at least let the poor man in the room before you go jumping all over him!" O'Neill heard Seeba scold as he reflexively dropped to the child's level and the girl attached herself to him like a limpet.

 

"Hey, it's okay," O'Neill waved a dismissive hand in Seeba's direction. "Shouldn't you be in bed by now, young lady?" He inquired of Melia as, gathering her safely up in his arms, he rose to his feet. The child mumbled something unintelligible into his shoulder.

 

"She should indeed," Seeba confirmed, walking over to where O'Neill stood just inside the doorway. "But I fear she finds the strange noises in this place to be unsettling. That is why I asked for you to come. She says you are a very good storyteller, so I thought if you could spare the time perhaps... ?"

 

"Hey, not a problem. I'd be happy to," O'Neill said, delighted to oblige. His dark eyes were soft as he regarded the child clinging to him. "So, what story would you like tonight?"

 

“Tell me about the arkolololist, the magic pool and the big bad snake again. I liked that one,” the little girl begged and then promptly yawned.

 

"Okay, sweetheart, the 'arkolololist', the magic pool and the big bad snake again, it is," O'Neill smiled warmly. Inwardly he chuckled to himself as he envisioned Daniel's reaction to being called an 'arkolololist'. "Let's get you tucked up in bed first though."

 

"Can't I just sit on your knee?" The little girl pleaded.

 

"Well..." O'Neill began hesitantly.

 

"Pleeease?" The 'lost puppy' eyes Melia aimed at O'Neill quite effectively demolished any resolve he might have had on the subject. He became aware of Seeba standing close by, a smile of knowing maternal amusement plastered across her face as she held out a blanket to him. O'Neill shot her a glare, but took the blanket anyway and went to sit on the end of the room's big double bed, where he wrapped Melia warmly up in the blanket and settled her comfortably on his knee, snuggled against his chest, his arms wrapped protectively and securely around her.

 

"Okay?" He asked the little girl as he heard her emit a sigh of total contentment. He felt her head nod against him.

 

"Tell me the story, Jack." He heard her request.

 

"Okay." The Colonel smiled as he looked fondly down at the little one in his arms and remembered a little boy he had once held thus and told stories to. A sudden lump rose in his throat, but he resolutely swallowed it down and forced himself to concentrate on the here and now and not on the past and the myriad 'what ifs' that lay there. Taking a steadying breath, he began the story in the time honoured manner that fathers throughout the ages had always employed. "Once upon a time... "

 

******************************

 

"You are good with the little one."

 

"Hey... She's a sweet kid," O’Neill responded, smiling fondly at the child he had just tucked up in the low, folding cot, that had been specially set up for her in the VIP room which had been allocated to the female contingent of the K'Rin'sha delegation. Melia had fallen asleep in his arms before he had even gotten halfway through the story he had been telling her. She had not stirred as he had carried her to her bed and settled her there. He did not look up from where he knelt as he felt Seeba's hand on his shoulder. "What happened to her folks?"

 

"The Ha'gell," Seeba answered bleakly. "She was the only survivor of an entire village. I warned them that the Dark Souled Ones were coming, but they did not believe because it had been many generations since the Ha'gell had last hunted in their lands. When I returned to the village only a few weeks later on my way back to the Gateway, the Ha'gell had been and gone. The child was alone and starving among the dead."

 

"Oh God..." O'Neill breathed, clamping firmly down on the anger and the memories that rose within him at the mention of the Ha'gell. With paternal gentleness he reached his right hand to lightly stroke the side of the little girl's face. Melia emitted a small sound of contentment, but otherwise did not stir.

 

"She is safe now, my friend," Seeba murmured and the hand she rested on O'Neill's shoulder tightening reassuringly as she spoke.

 

"Mac told me the other kids that were with you are all orphans too," O'Neill said, rising to his feet and freeing his shoulder of Seeba's grasp as he did so. "He also said they're being found homes with families on 'Sanctuary'."

 

"Yes, this is so. You need not fear for them. They will be well looked after and be safe. I can assure you of that," Seeba confirmed.

 

"Then they'll all learn how to use these?" O'Neill asked, making a little gesture with his left hand that briefly displayed the alien crystal embedded in his palm.

 

"They do not have the Blood," Seeba answered. In spite of her 'blindness' she smiled as a slightly disconcerted look flashed across O'Neill's face. "Not all who live among the K'Rin'sha are of the K'Rin'sha, or can use the Crystals, but that does not mean their lives are poorer. Tir and the other young ones will be encouraged to find their own talents and skills and develop them to the best of their abilities. They will have good lives."

 

O'Neill studied the 'blind' woman for a moment, then his gaze strayed back to the sleeping Melia.

 

"As will she, old friend," Seeba assured.

 

Silently, O'Neill nodded, his dark eyes still focused on the sleeping child. Then he seemed to give himself a shake and emerge from whatever place his mind had wandered off to. "I should go." He murmured, then he looked at Seeba and added. “Mac an' I'll both be on the base tonight. If you need anything, just ask one of the SFs outside and they'll...”

 

“Actually,” Seeba interjected. "I should like to see the young one."

 

"Daniel?" O'Neill frowned, a little surprised by the request.

 

"No. The other young one in your infirmary."

 

"Oh, you mean Sam. Okay. Sure. I was going to swing by the infirmary myself. I'll take you up there if you like." O'Neill responded, then he looked towards the sleeping Melia, a question quite clearly forming in his mind.

 

"Alaeya will sit with her. She is across the hall with R'Fyaa."

 

"I'll fetch her." O'Neill volunteered. Leaving the room, he stepped across the corridor to the open doorway of the VIP quarters opposite. Alaeya and R'Fyaa were seated at the room's table, a chessboard set out between them. When O'Neill knocked on the open door, the chess players both looked up from their game.

 

"Ah, Colonel O'Neill." R'Fyaa looked delighted to see the Air Force man. "Come in. Come in. Do you play chess, Colonel?"

 

"Some," O'Neill admitted. He had always thought himself to be a pretty good player until the first time he had encountered Daniel across a chessboard. The archaeologist still whipped his ass on a regular basis.

 

"Then perhaps I could persuade you...?" R'Fyaa inquired, waving his hand with ill disguised hope at the board before him.

 

"Ah Thank you," O'Neill responded, advancing a little way into the room for a slightly closer look at the board. He cast his eye over the pieces on the board and easily determined that the current game would end within another two or three moves. Someone, Alaeya, he strongly suspected, was getting soundly trashed. "But maybe some other time," he declined before explaining Seeba's need of a baby sitter for Melia.

 

"Might I come also?" Alaeya requested, her expression hopeful.

 

“Ah... Well... I think your mom was kinda' hoping you'd...” O'Neill began.

 

“I will sit with the child,” R'Fyaa offered congenially. "Daniel was kind enough to leave some texts with me, which he thought I might find to be of interest." He gestured towards a pile of weighty looking tomes that were resting on the room's dresser. O'Neill glanced at the books and the look that flitted across his face was an eloquent expression of his opinion on the probable contents of the books.

 

"Gotta be a great cure for insomnia at least," the Colonel muttered dryly.

 

******************************

 

It came as no surprise whatsoever to O’Neill to find that Teal'c was still standing guard outside Sam Malloy's door. "Hey, Teal'c. How's it going?" O'Neill greeted him as he approached with Seeba and Alaeya in his wake.

 

"All is quiet, O'Neill," the Jaffa answered with quiet dignity. The Colonel considered for the briefest of moments, then asked.

 

"You eaten yet?"

 

"I have not." Teal'c admitted.

 

"Then why don't ya' go grab something?" O'Neill suggested.

 

"I suggested he do that when I got here, but the big guy seems to have a stubborn streak a mule'd envy." O'Neill saw Teal'c twitch an eyebrow as MacGyver's observation floated over his shoulder.

 

"Oh, yeah." The Colonel agreed, his tone denoting much experience in that regard. He eyed Teal'c. "Go on, Teal'c. Mac an' I are both here. An' we got reinforcements if we need 'em." He jerked a thumb vaguely at Seeba and Alaeya. "What could happen?" He reached out to clap the alien companionably on the upper arm. Teal'c's eyebrow twitched slightly again, before he inclined his head slightly and announced that he would return shortly.

 

"So." As Teal'c departed, O'Neill turned his attention to MacGyver. "How's the kid doin' now?"

 

"Still asleep," MacGyver answered, then asked a silent question with his eyes.

 

"Ah, they asked to come visit," O'Neill responded, reading the question correctly. "You mind?" He saw his cousin's gaze flicker to the two K'Rin'sha before he shook his head slightly and murmured.

 

"Guess not."

 

*******************************

 

"So," Seeba smiled, halting at MacGyver's elbow beside Sam Malloy's bed. "This is your son," she observed quietly.

 

"Yeah, this is Sam," MacGyver acknowledged equally quietly. His paternal pride was unmistakable as he gazed fondly down at his soundly sleeping son.

 

"May I?" Seeba inquired of the tall human at her side as she made a slight motion of her left hand towards the oblivious Malloy. MacGyver shifted a little, almost protectively. "I will not waken him, old friend," Seeba assured softly. "Nor will I harm him."

 

A slightly embarrassed flush tinged the Phoenix operative's cheeks. "I know you won't," he murmured apologetically.

 

Seeba aimed a warm and understanding smile at him. "It is alright. I am the same way with Alaeya," She confided, patting MacGyver gently on the arm before turning her attention to Sam.

 

MacGyver made no attempt to intervene as the blind woman stepped closer to the bed and extended her left hand towards his son. He watched her with puzzled curiosity as her hand opened and moved, palm downwards, to hover a scant fraction of an inch over Sam's chest.

 

"What's she doing?" O’Neill hissed in a loud stage whisper at Alaeya. The pair of them were hovering near to the foot of Malloy's bed and O'Neill had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his fatigues pants.

 

"She is 'Seeing'," Alaeya answered in a confidential whisper.

 

"Oh. Of course she is." O'Neill murmured in a tone suggesting that the girl's cryptic answer just naturally explained everything - not. Then, frowning, he inquired quietly. "Ah...Seeing what exactly?"

 

"His heart, Nestu," Alaeya answered.

 

"Aah...Right." O'Neill endeavoured to look enlightened, but only succeeded in looking a tad bewildered instead. His attention switched back to MacGyver and Seeba as, out of the corner of his eye he saw the blind woman withdrawing her hand from the region of Sam Malloy's chest.

 

Turning to MacGyver, Seeba smiled warmly up at him. "The path the young one walks is long and hard, but he will walk it well," she told him as she rested a hand on his arm again. "For his heart, like yours, is good." She then looked at Alaeya and spoke a few words that were incomprehensible to both MacGyver and O'Neill. The slightly sombre expression that had been on the girl's face changed to a smile and her dark eyes seemed to light up. Nodding to her mother she began to move around to the side of the bed opposite Seeba and MacGyver.

 

"Ahhhh...?" O'Neill asked hopefully. He might not have understood what Seeba had said to her daughter, but he knew he had just missed something. Possibly something significant.

 

"I would speak with you and the other," Seeba told MacGyver meanwhile, before she stepped around the man and headed for the door, a slightly solemn air settling about her. MacGyver and O'Neill looked at each other. Then they looked at Alaeya, who was settling into the chair that rested beside Malloy's bed. The girl's attention was visibly focused on Sam and she appeared totally oblivious of the dual scrutiny. The two men looked at each other again, then a smile twitched on O'Neill's face.

 

//Whaddya think?// He 'sent' to MacGyver. //A crush in the making?// He was barely able to contain the urge to laugh out loud at the expression that crossed MacGyver's face. It was a bit of a demented cross between total disconcertion and paternal resignation. //Hey,// O'Neill chuckled. //He's a good lookin' kid. Not his fault he has to beat 'em off with a stick, even when he's unconscious!//

 

The look that remark elicited from MacGyver could have done O'Neill serious harm if looks could have killed. It was water off the proverbial duck's back of course. O'Neill just grinned broadly while his dark eyes twinkled with mischief.

 

Before the disastrous mission to P4X-994 and while Sam had been staying at his house, O'Neill had - upon discovering that Sam did not share his father's aversion to beer or anything else even remotely alcoholic – invited the kid out for a night on the town. Or, as Sam had succinctly interpreted it, a pub crawl. During the course of the evening, O'Neill had witnessed Sam's effect on the female populace of Colorado Springs. The kid hadn't even been trying to score, but it seemed that all he had to do was simply smile and girls were throwing themselves at him.

 

O'Neill had rather enjoyed watching the kid flirt and then gently brush the girls off in order to get back to talking to him about whatever. At least, he had thought to himself at the time, Sam recognises when he's being flirted with in a bar and handles it well. Unlike a certain archaeologist I could name. Take Daniel to a bar and he attracts women like bees to a honey pot. They make passes at him in droves, practically hit him over the head even and he never even notices. Of course that's probably because he's usually too wrapped up in trying to drill something into my head about some old lump of rock he found somewhere, or some off the wall theory about something. And even if he did notice, he's too devoted to Sha're to be likely to do anything about it.

 

Quite how Sam had managed to be bright and breezy and totally hangover free the following morning, the Colonel had yet to figure out. He was sure the kid had knocked back just as much beer as he himself had and had been just as tipsy as he had been when they had finally gotten home by taxi  at some ungodly hour. Thank god for strong black coffee and aspirin.

 

"Seeba wants to talk to us." MacGyver refused to rise to the bait his cousin was dangling. He looked across to Alaeya. "Alaeya, are you going to be alright here for a moment?”

 

“We'll be fine, Patu,” the girl interjected almost absently, her attention quite definitely still focused on Sam. O'Neill snorted as he tried to keep laughter in check at the look that flitted across MacGyver's face at the almost casual teenage dismissal.

 

//Oh definitely a crush!// The Colonel 'sent', struggling to keep convulsions at bay. A struggle which was in no way lessened by the glower that MacGyver sent his way before heading for the door.

 

*******************************

 

"The boy must be told what you both are," Seeba announced as they joined her in the main body of the infirmary, just a few paces outside the doorway of Sam Malloy's room.

 

"What?" MacGyver looked like that was the last thing he had been expecting the blind woman to say.

 

"Ex-cuse me?" O'Neill looked similarly flabbergasted and stared at Seeba as if he suspected she'd taken total leave of her senses.

 

"He has The Blood as you both have," Seeba stated as if that answered everything.

 

“And wonderful as I'm sure that information is...” O'Neill began a tad dryly.

 

“Seeba, I really don't know if that's such a...” MacGyver began at the same time.

 

“He needs to be told and it is you he should hear it from.” Seeba appeared quite determined on the matter. She 'regarded' MacGyver intently with her blind gaze. "It is knowledge which may, one day, save both your lives." Her 'gaze' seemed to momentarily encompass O'Neill too before focusing solely on MacGyver again. "As well as his own in this cycle. And also aid you to defeat an old and dangerous enemy."

 

"How?" It was MacGyver who asked the question. O'Neill was too busy winching his jaw back up off the floor.

 

"Your son has inherited more than just his heart from you, old friend," Seeba earnestly informed the Phoenix operative. "He takes his First House and the potential to become, in time, as you are and will be."

 

"Go on," MacGyver encouraged, regarding the K'Rin'sha Seer intently. Her pronouncement that knowledge of his and O'Neill's ability to use K'Rin'sha crystal technology might one day save his son's life, had grabbed his attention BIG time. He wanted to know more. Needed to know more.

 

Seeba inclined her head slightly as if considering how best to say what she needed to, then announced succinctly. "Your son shares the same rare ability as Alaeya, to carry in concealment, crystals of his First House that are far more powerful than he yet has the training, the experience or the ability to use."

 

Two sets of dark chocolate eyes blinked a little dubiously at the blind Seer. Then, almost as one, MacGyver and O'Neill both raised their left hands slightly and stared for a moment at their respective crystals, both of which started to glow softly, before they looked at each other then at Seeba again.

 

"Oh-kay," O'Neill observed cautiously. "That could conceivably be useful to know, but the kid's a civilian and all this..." He waved his hand vaguely "...is all highly classified stuff. Military stuff. Technically, Sam shouldn't even be here inside the Mountain. An' ya' can bet your bottom dollar that as soon as it's safe to do so, the General's gonna' have him shipped outta' here so fast his feet won’t touch the ground."

 

"Much as I hate to say this, Jack has a point," MacGyver was equally cautious, though his mind was racing with the various implications raised by the turn the conversation had taken. “Not that I don't think Sam can be trusted to keep his mouth shut, but...”

 

“I know." Seeba smiled sympathetically and reached a hand to the Phoenix operative's arm. "There is much the Tau'ri in general are not yet ready for. And I know from speaking with the one called Hammond, that all this..." she gestured at their surroundings. "...must remain a closely guarded secret from your people at this time, but the boy must be told." Her smile changed, becoming somewhat enigmatic. "I think you may find his reaction interesting."

 

"Interesting?" O'Neill asked, eyebrows rising, while MacGyver just frowned slightly.

 

Seeba smiled in response, but her attention was unmistakably focused on MacGyver. "Have you yet determined the identity of the enemy who would harm the boy?"

 

"Possibly," MacGyver answered. "We've got some people checking a few things out."

 

"Oh, we've got a pretty damn good idea," O'Neill's tone and manner suggested he knew exactly who was to blame for Sam's confinement to the infirmary and he was chomping at the bit to do something about it.

 

"I see." Seeba inclined her head slightly as she 'looked' at the Colonel. Then, without moving away from MacGyver, she reached out to place her left hand flat on O'Neill's chest.

 

"Let's just say we've got our suspicions," MacGyver said, watching Seeba and his cousin. “We-”

 

“Whoa! O'Neill suddenly exclaimed and took an abrupt step back, his hands coming up defensively in front of him. The crystal in his left palm flared a vivid blue, flecked with red.

 

“Yeow!” MacGyver exclaimed at almost the same instant as an odd sensation shot through his senses and he felt a fairly powerful flare of energy pulse in the region of his own left hand. It was an energy pulse that died as soon as Seeba's hand lost contact with O'Neill.

 

"Oh-kay. What was that?" O'Neill demanded curtly, even as MacGyver was concernedly questioning.

 

"Jack,  you okay?"

 

"That was my fault. I apologise to you both," Seeba said quickly. "I should have anticipated you would react thus now that you once again possess a crystal," she continued, addressing O'Neill. "I shall not do that again without forewarning you."

 

"Terrific," O'Neill responded a little tersely. "But what the hell just happened?"

 

"You are a Prime Guardian Warrior-Mage and you once again possess a crystal. Your reaction was instinctive of a Warrior perceiving a threat when I attempted to 'See' for you without first stating my intention," Seeba explained. As O'Neill gawped at her, she turned to smile warmly at MacGyver. "And you reacted because you and the other are 'linked' Guardians." She then encompassed both men with her 'blind' gaze. "You are still both awakening to what you are and all that that means. It will take time, but you will adjust." Focusing on O'Neill, she raised her left hand again, palm open and facing towards him. "May I, Honoured Warrior?" She asked, her tone respectful.

 

Seeba remained motionless, simply waiting, as O'Neill looked at MacGyver and the two men communicated silently and rapidly with one another, using only their eyes, for several seconds.

 

"Okay...Go ahead," the Air Force Colonel decided with a sigh. Seeba nodded. O'Neill tensed quite visibly as the alien woman extended her hand towards him again. As she touched him, he felt his senses tingle. There was, however, no repeat of the disconcerting 'jolt' of energy that he had experienced only minutes before and he allowed himself to relax a little. This sensation was similar to that which he had felt on 'Sanctuary' when Seeba had previously touched him as she now did, but his awareness of it seemed much stronger. He glanced at Mac and saw the Phoenix man nod faintly. The expression in MacGyver's eyes told O'Neill that he was experiencing an odd 'echo' of what he himself was feeling.

 

The ripple on O'Neill's awareness vanished as Seeba retrieved her hand. She turned to MacGyver.

 

"May I, my friend?" She asked. MacGyver nodded and remained motionless as she placed her hand flat on his chest. A glance at O'Neill confirmed to MacGyver that the other man was now on the receiving end of the odd 'echo like' sensation that he himself had just finished experiencing. He was aware of O'Neill shifting a little restlessly, but endeavoured to remain calm and still himself.

 

A pensive expression crossed Seeba's features as, after a few moments, she removed her hand again and stepped back to regard both men with her blind gaze.

 

"The enemy you have seen, being the enemy of one, is indeed enemy to all who are Blood or friend, yet to find those whom you seek, you must look beyond that which your eyes have seen."

 

"Oh for crying out loud..." O'Neill sighed heavily. "Can we lose the riddles here and just speak English?" He realised MacGyver was staring in pensive silence at Seeba. "Mac? What?" He asked. "Don't tell me you understood any of that?"

 

"Understanding will come when you are ready for it," Seeba announced enigmatically. "Alaeya and I should return to our quarters now, that you may each think on that which the 'Seeing' has revealed," she continued as O'Neill gawped irritably at her. She ignored him and moved the few paces back to the door to call to her daughter.

 

"Might I not remain a little while longer, Mother?" Alaeya responded hopefully.

 

Seeba turned and 'looked' at MacGyver. "Would this be acceptable to you?"

 

"Huh? What? Oh. Yeah. Sure," MacGyver nodded, dragging his attention away from the whirl of thoughts that Seeba's 'riddle' had stirred up in his brain as he endeavoured to make sense of what she had said. "I was planning on sitting with Sam for a while longer myself. I'll bring her down to the VIP level when I come down myself." He looked to O'Neill. "Guess I'm still quartered there, yes?"

 

"Far as I know." The Colonel nodded.

 

“Then I shall leave Alaeya in your safe hands.” Seeba smiled at MacGyver and reached to briefly touch his arm. "Goodnight to you."

 

"Goodnight," MacGyver returned.

 

"Will you accompany me, Jack?" Seeba addressed O'Neill. "Or should I await one of your warriors?"

 

"Ah. No. I'll come with," O'Neill volunteered. He cast an expressive glance at MacGyver. "See ya' in the morning Mac."

 

MacGyver nodded and watched Jack depart with the blind K'Rin'sha woman, well aware that O'Neill had an ulterior motive for not simply rounding up an SF to escort Seeba back to the VIP level. He very much doubted that O'Neill would be able to prise a straight answer from the ‘Seer’ about the 'riddle' she had imparted, but inwardly wished him luck anyway. Sighing softly to himself, he rounded up a spare chair from another part of the infirmary and took it into Malloy's room, where he settled himself to keep watch with Alaeya over his sleeping son for a while.

 

*******************************

 

Sighing softly to himself, MacGyver straightened in the uncomfortable infirmary chair, tried to ease out the kinks that were forming in stiffening back muscles and wiped a hand over his face. A feeling of being watched washed over him. Suddenly unsettled, he looked across his still soundly sleeping son and found Alaeya watching him with an intent expression on her face. Almost immediately her gaze dropped away from him and a slight flush coloured her cheeks, but MacGyver caught a fleeting glimpse of warmth in her dark eyes, mingled with something else he couldn't quite identify.

 

Keeping his voice muted so as not to disturb Sam, though he had a feeling that little short of a bomb going off would waken the young man, MacGyver asked in a gently curious tone. "What?"

 

Alaeya didn't answer. Her attention appeared to be on Sam again as it had mostly been since she and MacGyver had settled into their vigil a short while earlier.

 

"Alaeya?" MacGyver prompted, his tone still gently curious, but a slight frown creasing his brow.

 

This time the girl looked up and again Mac glimpsed a flash of something elusive in her dark eyes before it was replaced by slightly shy curiosity.

 

"He means a great deal to you, doesn't he?" She asked quietly.

 

"He's my son," MacGyver answered simply, his gaze flickering fondly to the young man in question. Sam chose that moment to shift slightly on the bed and emit a small, soft sound of discomfort. Automatically MacGyver reached a hand out to him. "Easy, Sam. Easy. I'm right here," he murmured soothingly. The young man stilled again and the slightly pained frown that had been starting to form on his brow, smoothed out.

 

Silence settled in the room once more, except for the steady beeping of the monitoring equipment that Sam was still hooked up to. Almost soundless movement at the doorway caught MacGyver's attention. He looked round and saw that Teal'c had returned. Sighing softly to himself, MacGyver tried to stifle a yawn and wiped a hand wearily over his face again.

 

"You are tired. You should rest."

 

MacGyver looked at Alaeya again. She was looking at him with a slight tilt of her head that strongly reminded him of Seeba. He was feeling tired, but he was also reluctant to leave Sam's side.

 

"Exhausting yourself will not aid your son," Alaeya stated gently. She gestured towards the door. "And the Jaffa has returned. He will watch over Sam while you rest."

 

MacGyver sighed again, still reluctant to leave. He knew Alaeya was right, but even so... He looked at the sleeping Sam once more, then jumped as O’Neill's 'voice' resonated inside his mind.

 

//Kid's talkin' sense, big guy. Go get some sleep. Teal'c can handle things.//

 

"Patu, are you alright?" MacGyver heard Alaeya's concerned voice even as his senses registered a strong awareness of Jack and his whereabouts and current activity. He nodded a little distractedly at the girl, while he simultaneously 'spoke' to O'Neill.

 

//You're not exactly in the Land of Nod yourself, Jack.//

 

//Had this overwhelming urge to pound the crap outta' somethin', an' since Maybourne ain't here... //

 

//I get the picture.// MacGyver responded. He did indeed get the picture. Quite literally. He knew exactly where O'Neill was. He was in the base gymnasium and a punch bag was suffering heavy damage.

 

//So. Ya' gonna' give in an' get some rest, or do I make an anonymous phone call to Doc Fraiser an'  rat on you?//

 

//Jack, should you be doing that yet?// MacGyver interjected, suddenly concerned about his cousin's well being. //Your arm?//

 

//Is fine. Doc said so. Listen, I'm gonna' hit the showers now. If you're not headed to quarters by the time I'm done, I'm comin' down there an' draggin' ya‘.//

 

//Okay. Okay  Mom.//

 

The almost overwhelmingly strong sense of awareness of Jack faded and MacGyver found Alaeya was no longer seated at the other side of Sam's bed, but was standing beside him, a hand resting tentatively on his arm as she gently called his name. He discovered that Teal'c was no longer outside the door either, but was standing a few paces away near to the foot of Sam's bed and was regarding him with eyes that betrayed concern though the expression on his face was as difficult to read as ever.

 

"MacGyver, are you unwell?" The big Jaffa inquired.

 

"No, no, I'm fine," MacGyver smiled. "I was just arguing with Jack."

 

Teal'c twitched an eyebrow.

 

"I know that sounds crazy, Teal'c." MacGyver floundered slightly. He made a vague gesture with his left hand. The K'Rin'sha crystal embedded in his palm was glowing a soft blue white which was beginning to fade. "But don't worry. I'm not a candidate for the men in white coats just yet."

 

//Matter of opinion!//

 

MacGyver tried not to jump in surprise. The crystal in his palm briefly flared a stronger blue white again. Ignoring the momentary intrusion on his awareness by his cousin, MacGyver endeavoured to bestow a reassuring smile on both Teal'c and Alaeya as he rose to his feet. "I'm fine. Really. Think maybe I'll go grab some shut eye for a coupla' hours. You ready to go back to your quarters, Alaeya?" The girl nodded. "You okay to keep an eye on things here for a while, Teal'c?" MacGyver looked at the Jaffa questioningly.

 

"I will keep both eyes on things, MacGyver," Teal'c pronounced solemnly.

 

MacGyver nodded, his dark eyes expressing his appreciation and, as he escorted Alaeya from the room, he was aware of the Jaffa following them out and then taking up guard stance at the doorway.

 

********************************

 

"Ya' know, you could be more useful than you look," O’Neill murmured to the softly blue glowing crystal embedded in his left palm. Then he shook his head in self disgust. "Ah crap... I gotta be losin' it. I’m talkin' to rocks now." The crystal flared briefly and in that same instant, O'Neill 'knew' that Mac had finally taken the hint and was heading for his quarters on the VIP level of the complex. "About time," he murmured.

 

Reaching his locker, O'Neill opened it up, swiftly stripped off, wrapped a towel around his waist, grabbed a bottle of body wash and some shampoo and headed for the showers. The hot water was both soothing and relaxing and by the time he was done, O'Neill figured he might actually be able to get some sleep himself. He had been too wired earlier which was why he had headed for the gym after escorting Seeba back to her quarters.

 

The conversation he had had with the blind ‘Seer’ as he had escorted her to her room had been part of the reason he had been so wound up. He had tried to prise some answers from her in plain English with regard to her pronouncement in the infirmary, but she had been stubbornly elusive and had merely talked in more riddles that had left him with a headache in the making.

 

Punching the crap out of the heavy bag in the gym had been very therapeutic. Especially when he had pictured it with Maybourne's face. Not to mention Kinsey's.

 

Clad once again in fatigues, O'Neill left the locker room and headed for his quarters.

 

As he presently settled himself in the narrow, military issue bed, O'Neill found his thoughts turning to the young man in the infirmary and to MacGyver. As he thought of the latter, the blue K'Rin'sha crystal Alaeya had given him began to glow softly again and awareness of Mac washed through him. With that awareness came the certainty that, right at that moment, the other man was thinking of and seriously worrying over Sam Malloy. Suddenly the awareness deepened and all his cousin's feelings and anxieties for the boy washed through him like a tidal wave.

 

"Whoa!" O'Neill murmured and endeavoured to damp down the emotions rolling over him like a runaway truck. The glow of the crystal in his palm intensified. The influx from MacGyver diminished to a level he could handle.

 

//Mac,  the kid's gonna' be okay.// He 'sent'. //An' we are gonna' get the guys that hurt him.//

 

//I know, Jack. It's just... //

 

//I know. He's your kid. It's natural it drives ya' crazy when he gets hurt.//

 

//Jack... //

 

//Right here. Not goin' anywhere. Ya' only gotta holler.//

 

//Thanks...//

 

//Anytime, big guy. Now get some shut eye, huh?//

 

//Yeah... // The quiet response was hardly filled with enthusiasm.

 

//'Night.// O'Neill 'sent'. Then, unable to resist the temptation and also knowing that it would be as good a way of distracting his cousin from his immediate worries as any, he threw in. //Angus.// He chuckled at the pained 'groan' that promptly resounded in his mind, before well aimed and extremely dry retaliation followed swiftly on its heels.

 

//'Night, John boy.//

 

O'Neill chuckled, shook his head slightly and shot back the mock indignant comment he was prone to using whenever 'his kids' drove him up the wall.

 

//Aagghhh! No respect. I get no respect.//

 

Soft, warm, laughter rippled gently in his mind and he smiled to himself, knowing that his distraction tactics had worked.

 

O'Neill was still smiling some moments later as the strength of the 'awareness' between his cousin and himself gently diminished until it was like a soothing background resonance on his senses, allowing them both their respective privacy, yet at the same time unobtrusively maintaining the connection between them. It was an oddly comforting sensation and O’Neill, fiercely self sufficient though he was, found himself feeling totally at ease with it.

 

Closing his eyes, he fell quickly asleep, vaguely aware somehow, that MacGyver was doing likewise.

 

*******************************

 

O’Neill awakened suddenly to the loud rumbling of his stomach and the almost overwhelming desire for a piece of apple pie. Or cherry pie. Or blackberry pie. Or any pie. He was hungry. Rolling over, he blinked at the glowing display on the small electronic clock on the unit beside his bed.

 

"03:10? Oh for cryin' out loud," he muttered in disgust and tried to settle down again.

 

His stomach growled. It rumbled. It nagged.

 

After several minutes of his stomach's persistent complaining, O'Neill gave up, sat up and turned the light on. Then a thought occurred to him and he cautiously reached out towards the back ground awareness of his cousin, wary of disturbing him if he were still sleeping and not suffering the same sudden inexplicable attack of night starvation that he himself seemed to be having. No. Mac was asleep. Definitely asleep. But the distance seemed... a little 'off' somehow.

 

O'Neill sighed and scrubbed a hand through his short, sleep tousled hair. Then he glowered at the crystal in his left palm as he realised it was glowing a soft greenish blue.

 

"What the hell...?" He muttered. His stomach rumbled spectacularly. "What? Don't tell me ya' need frequent pit stops or something?" He demanded of the crystal. It glowed gently at him. His stomach growled and stabbed him with hunger pains the like of which he had not felt since...No. Not going there, he firmly told himself as unpleasant memories threatened to surface and he hastily squashed them back down into the dark recesses of his mind, to that place in which he tried to keep buried those things he would rather not ever remember ever again.

 

Throwing back the bed covers, he reached for his clothes, dressed and headed to the lower levels and the mess hall.

 

Although it was the middle of the night there were still personnel working in the complex. Not as many as during the day certainly, but Cheyenne Mountain was a military base and the very nature of what went on within its confines required that it be staffed round the clock. Night time was generally quiet though unless there was 'A Situation' in progress in which case staffing levels were appropriately high.

 

The few personnel whom O'Neill passed in the corridors gave no indication of being surprised to see him wandering the halls at that ungodly hour when there was nothing happening. They were used to it. It was pretty common knowledge that he suffered from bouts of insomnia sometimes and when he couldn't sleep and couldn't leave the base either, he would prowl the corridors, raid the mess hall, or retreat to his office to tackle the interminable paperwork that inevitably built up to mountainous proportions whenever he was off world. Or sometimes he would hit the gym and pound the living daylights out of the punch bag as he had earlier when his nervous energy was reaching dangerously explosive levels.

 

"Hello, Colonel." He was greeted cheerfully by one of the night duty catering staff as he descended on the serving counter. She was busily cleaning out one of the chill cabinets. "Paperwork driving you crazy again?"

 

"Something like that," he answered, scanning the plates of sandwiches and various other snacks housed in the chill cabinets beside the hot food section. Then he realised that the section that was being cleaned was the deserts one and it was pretty much empty.

 

"You looking for pie, Colonel?" The night catering sergeant inquired. She knew the Colonel's predilection for pie in just about any shape or form. And she always tried to have some to hand whenever she knew that the Colonel was confined to the base; especially in the wake of SG-1 returning from a mission. That was often when insomnia seemed to hit him she had noticed; particularly if all had not gone well off world.

 

"Ah yeah... Ya' wouldn't happen to- ?"

 

“Got some fresh cherry just out the ovens, Colonel. Or there's a slice of yesterday's apple left."

 

"Ah, I'll take the cherry, thanks." O'Neill responded as his stomach did an impressive impersonation of an F-16 taking off.

 

"With cream?" The Sergeant inquired, although she already pretty much knew what the answer would be. At O'Neill's nod, she abandoned her cleaning chore and bustled off to fetch him a slice, extra large, of fresh baked, still hot, cherry pie topped off with a generous dollop of whipped cream.

 

Presently armed with pie and a cup of steaming hot coffee, O'Neill retreated to a corner of the mess hall and set to with a vengeance. The handful of personnel who drifted in and out all gave him a wide berth. Those who knew him, knew that when he occupied that particular table in the middle of the night, he didn't want company. Anyone else got warned off by the catering Sergeant as much for their own safety as anything else. The Sergeant had always thought she could issue a pretty good tongue lashing on subordinates who got on the wrong side of her, until she had witnessed the Colonel in action at some ungodly hour one night when some green Lieutenant had made the mistake of disturbing him when the Colonel had clearly not wanted to be disturbed.

 

The Sergeant kept a discreetly watchful eye on the SG-1 team leader and, after a little while, picked up a jug of hot coffee and approached his table, careful to make her approach subtly known well in advance.

 

"More coffee, Colonel?" She inquired when no darkly forbidding scowls came her way. If they had, she would have diverted course without approaching his table.

 

"No thanks," O'Neill shook his head.

 

"The pie okay?" The Sergeant inquired, judging his mood and deciding that the question would not be met with caustic dismissal.

 

"Best damn cherry pie in town." The Colonel responded with one of his better 'Twin Peaks' impersonations. Then he grinned and added. "Betcha' that's why the Goa'uld are always so damn' cranky. They don't get enough pie."

 

The Sergeant chuckled. "Yeah, well just so long as they don't come looking here for any, Colonel," she said. "Vermin's a breach of health regulations."

 

O'Neill inclined his head in agreement with the sentiment and the Sergeant retreated back to the serving counter with her jug of coffee.

 

With his stomach now quieted by the pie he had consumed and the K'Rin'sha crystal in his hand now apparently dormant again, O'Neill rose and made his way from the mess hall. He really didn't feel like going back to his quarters and the thought of the paperwork he knew was threatening to overflow the desk in his office held even less appeal. He decided to swing by the infirmary and keep Teal'c company for a while.

 

********************************

 

As he approached the infirmary, O'Neill had the oddest feeling that his proximity to his sleeping, older cousin was increasing. He glanced at the crystal in his left hand. It just sat there; dormant. He shook his head and began to wonder if he should revise his earlier opinion on the potential usefulness of the rock.

 

"Hey, Teal'c, how's it goin'?" He inquired as he drew near to the doorway where his team mate stood resolute guard. "All quiet?"

 

"All is indeed quiet, O'Neill," the Jaffa responded, stepping slightly aside in order to facilitate O'Neill's view of the room behind him.

 

"Hey... When did-? I thought Mac went to his quarters hours ago?" O'Neill frowned as he set eyes on the Phoenix operative. MacGyver was sitting in a chair drawn up close to his son's bedside, his folded arms resting on Sam’s bed and his head resting on his folded arms. He appeared to be soundly asleep.

 

"Indeed. He returned over an hour ago, saying that he was unable to sleep and wished to be with his son." Teal'c stated, turning slightly in order to follow O'Neill's gaze with his own.

 

"Oh fer cryin' out loud, isn't one insomniac in the family enough?" The Colonel muttered under his breath. Turning, he looked around the infirmary, spotted a stack of neatly folded spare blankets on some shelving and went to fetch one. Teal'c watched him, but offered no comment. Stepping past the Jaffa, O'Neill quietly unfolded the blanket, took it over to MacGyver and very carefully draped it over his shoulders and back. The Phoenix operative stirred slightly.

 

"S'okay, Mac. S'only me," O'Neill soothed gently. MacGyver emitted the softest of sounds, shifted slightly, then dropped back into the depths of sleep. O'Neill felt the vaguest of stirrings on the edges of his awareness and knew from it that his cousin knew he was there, accepted his presence and wasn't going to waken unless O'Neill actually attempted to disturb him.

 

For some moments he stood just watching his two sleeping relatives. Memories stirred within him of nights spent sitting up with Charlie through some childhood illness or other. He understood MacGyver's need to be there at his son's side, even though Sam was a full grown adult. It was a parent thing.

 

He sighed softly. He still didn't want to go back to his quarters. And the awaiting paperwork still appealed about as much as deep root canal without anaesthetic. "Oh the hell with it," he muttered and stepped around to the other side of the bed to settle in the vacant chair that rested there.

 

******************************

 

Sam Malloy drifted up out of the depths of sleep to a feeling of floating in a warm sea of love and affection permeated by a sense of being fiercely protected. It was an incredibly strong feeling. Almost overwhelming in fact.

 

Rapidly blinking his way to full wakefulness, Sam found his gaze alighting on a familiar, shaggy haired head, which was resting on a folded arm on the side of his bed. MacGyver’s left hand lay open, palm down, resting gently on Sam's stomach. Sam smiled fondly. His father was clearly dead to the world, a military issue blanket slipping from his shoulders. A slight frown replaced the young journalist's smile however, as a sound other than the persistently annoying beeping of the medical monitors caught his attention. It sounded like snoring but it wasn't coming from his father.

 

Cautious of disturbing MacGyver and of stirring up the pain that he seemed to be blissfully free of right then, Sam shifted slightly for a better look at his surroundings as he tried to track down the source of the snores. He discovered a pair of booted feet propped up near the foot of the other side of his bed. Sam shifted a little more and discovered that the feet belonged to Jack O’Neill. The Air Force Colonel was asleep and snoring in a chair tilted back at a slightly alarming angle but balanced to perfection. His arms were folded across his chest, his hands tucked into his armpits and his chin resting on his chest.

 

Sam's smile returned. He liked the Colonel. He had discovered the man had a wicked sense of humour and a streak of devilment in him a mile wide, despite being military through and through. Recollections of a recent night on the town with the Colonel surfaced. Jack definitely knew how to have Fun, Sam found himself musing. Not that his father didn't. MacGyver, he had learned over the past few years since they had first found one another, had a pretty buoyant sense of fun too, not to mention a sometimes pretty dry sense of humour.

 

Idly, Sam found himself wondering how many other relatives he had that he knew nothing about. Not that he held it against his father for having kept quiet about O'Neill. He understood the reasoning behind the silence, knowing what he did about MacGyver's background and also now about O'Neill's. Not that that was a great deal. Both men were pretty close mouthed about their pasts. Truth be told, he had learned more from Peter Thornton about a lot of his father's past than he had from MacGyver himself. He knew there was a lot he would never know, could never know, because it was 'classified'.  And as for the rest...Well, his father was such a naturally modest man, that it was hard to get him to talk about the rest.

 

A lot of O'Neill's background was equally 'classified'. Sam hadn't needed O'Neill to tell him that either. He had done some discreet checking of his own after the Colonel had expertly dodged some of the questions he had tried asking directly. What little he had been able to find out had been more interesting in what it didn't reveal than in what it did. Being a journalist, Sam was well able to read between the lines of military officialdom. O'Neill's past was both murky and colourful to say the least. The various medals in the display cases in his home had been earned the hard way. O'Neill had most definitely not reached the rank of full bird Colonel by sitting on his backside in some Pentagon back office, shuffling paper and playing politics the way he knew some did.

 

Sam's idle train of thought was rudely curtailed by the sudden and cacophonous sound of a klaxon going off. He saw his father's head jerk up and startled, panicked eyes immediately seek him out, the panic fading rapidly and changing to relief as he saw that he was not the cause of the sudden explosion of noise.

 

Even as MacGyver woke abruptly, so did O’Neill. The Colonel's feet clattered to the floor, as did the chair legs that had been suspended in mid air, as he shot out of his seat, his eyes sweeping his surroundings in a manner that was unmistakably pure reflex.

 

"What's happening?" Sam wanted to know, endeavouring to sit up, only to find his father trying to restrain him as a disembodied voice echoed tersely above the racket of the klaxon, announcing.

 

"Unscheduled off world Gate activation. Security teams to the Gate Room. Security to the Gate Room. We have an unscheduled off world Gate activation."

 

"Stay here. I'll check it out." O'Neill snapped, already en route to the door.

 

"Dad, I'm okay!" Sam insisted in objection to his father's efforts at pushing him back down on the bed even as the monitors he was hooked up to began to beep in a frantic fashion. He heard O'Neill issue what was unmistakably an order as he shot out the door.

 

"Stay with them, Teal'c."

 

"Medical team to the Gate room! Medical team to the Gate room!" The P.A. barked tersely above the continuing bedlam of the klaxon. "Colonel O'Neill to the Control room. Colonel O'Neill to the Control room."

 

"Dad!" Sam protested with some irritation as MacGyver told him again to settle down and relax and that everything was okay. “Dad, I'm fine. Really I am. I- ” Sam broke off in mid protest as the sudden realisation of just how fine he did feel hit him. Confusion washed over him. He brought his left hand up to his right shoulder, hesitantly exploring the injury he knew to be there. He might not have the same personal experience with gun shot injuries that his father had, but he had seen enough, knew enough, to know that his abrupt attempt to sit up, followed by his father's efforts to restrain him, should have had him feeling considerably more discomfort at that moment than he actually was.

 

His shoulder ached a bit. It was as if he'd banged into something pretty solid and was just heavily bruised and that bruising was working its way out. Same with his chest. The same dull ache permeated his chest in the region of the surgical dressings that were taped in place there. And his back. There was a dull, bruised kind of an ache there too. No pain, just the dull ache like he'd maybe been kicked by a mule.

 

It was about then that he realised his father was no longer attempting to restrain him, but was perched on the edge of the bed, watching him intently. The look in his father's dark eyes was one that Sam recognised only too well. It told Sam that something had happened that had terrified him and that MacGyver was trying hard to keep a lid on the resultant urge to be an over protective parent.

 

“Dad...What’s going on?” Sam asked. He witnessed his father take a deep breath. Oh-oh. This is bad whatever it is, was the thought that immediately hurtled through Sam's mind. A commotion at the door distracted MacGyver. Sam followed his father's gaze and saw a woman who appeared to be a nurse, endeavouring to negotiate her way past a mountain of a bald, black man, who was determinedly blocking her path.

 

"It's okay, Lieutenant. Everything's fine here." MacGyver called.

 

"I'm sure it is, Mr. MacGyver, but I have instructions from Doctor Fraiser to check on any changes that register on your son's monitors." Was the slightly exasperated response from the nurse, whom the large black man was continuing to deny admittance.

 

Sam saw his father hesitate for a moment before nodding slightly and saying. "It's okay, Teal'c. Let her in."

 

Sam saw the large black man move aside, but turn and follow the woman into the room, his manner watchful and alert, as the nurse went to collect the chart that hung on the rail at the foot of the bed. He was also aware of the aura of wariness that settled over his father as he rose to his feet and moved out of the nurse's way as she came around the side of the bed to check some of the monitors.

 

As the nurse checked his pulse, then asked him a few questions while she listened to his heart, Sam was aware of his father hovering close by the nurse's elbow, closely watching every move the woman made. The large black man hovering by the foot of his bed was similarly attentive to every move made by the nurse. Sam refrained from comment, but he couldn't help but wonder what was prompting such an open display of protectiveness by the two men. Where his father was concerned, he could understand it to some degree, but the other man? Didn't Dad just call him Teal'c? Isn't he on O’Neill's 'team'? Sam found himself recognising him from a photo he had seen at his cousin's house; the photo that Sam Carter had been in, along with a very unmilitary looking, bespectacled young man whom O'Neill had called 'Daniel', plus Jack himself. The realisation didn't really answer any questions though. It just threw up more.

 

Sam tried to keep his curiosity on a tight leash as he dutifully answered a few more questions asked of him by the nurse as she busily scribbled some notations on his chart. He was more than a little surprised though, by the reaction of his father and the black man, when the nurse asked him if he was hungry and he admitted honestly that he did feel a little peckish. Before the nurse had a chance to say a word, MacGyver jumped in with.

 

"One of us'll bring him something down from the mess hall, Lieutenant, thanks."

 

The nurse nodded as she moved to return the clipboard to its place on the bed rail, instructing as she did so. "Just make sure it's something light and not too much of it. Okay?"

 

"Yeah," MacGyver nodded. The nurse departed, Teal'c following her to the door which he resumed blocking to the world beyond again.

 

"Dad, what the heck is going on?" Sam could contain himself no longer. “What are you so nervous about? And what's with the big guy? He practically frisked that nurse when she came in here!”

 

“Someone tried to kill you, Sam. We're just being careful.” MacGyver interjected grimly.

 

"Yeah, I know they did, Dad," Sam responded with some irritable impatience. He flexed his damaged shoulder gently, surprised to discover that the dull ache eased a little with that motion. "But I'm fine."

 

"Someone tried to poison you, son. Here. On this base."

 

"What?" Sam Malloy stared at his father.

 

"I think we need to talk.."

 

*******************************

 

As he finished explaining to his son about the late Airman Grierson's attempt on Sam's life, MacGyver watched the growing look of horror that was spreading across his face.

 

"They killed his family?" Sam positively radiated distress. "Oh, God, Dad... "

 

"Not your fault," MacGyver gently, but firmly informed his son. Understanding was visible in his dark eyes. He knew exactly how his son was feeling right then. He’d been there himself, more than once.

 

“But...” Sam began to protest.

 

“No, Sam,” MacGyver shook his head emphatically as he rested a reassuring hand on his son's arm. "It's not your fault. The people responsible are the ones who gave the orders and the ones who carried them out. You did nothing wrong. Nothing."

 

Malloy, however, didn't look particularly convinced. The anguish in the young man's eyes nearly broke MacGyver's heart, but he knew there was nothing he could do but 'be there' and be supportive as Sam worked his way through his feelings of guilt, to come to the realisation that he wasn't responsible for things outside his control. It didn't stop MacGyver from feeling pain on his behalf however.

 

"We'll get through this," the Phoenix operative assured, giving his arm a squeeze. "We are gonna' find the guys responsible and they are gonna' go down for it."

 

"Somehow that doesn't really make me feel any better right now," Sam sighed heavily. He shifted slightly against the pillows that his father had earlier rearranged at his back when adjusting the tilt of the top end of the bed for him, so that he could recline in comfort rather than lie virtually flat while they talked.

 

"I know, son. I know." MacGyver said gently. He sensed that Sam was in need of a little time by himself now. "Listen, you try and get some rest now. I'll come back in a little while, an' we can talk some more. Okay?"

 

“Yeah...Okay...”  Sam sighed a little distractedly, raising a hand to wipe it over his face and up through his hair in a gesture that MacGyver was only too familiar with:  it being one of his own.

 

MacGyver rose from where he perched on the edge of his son's bed. "You need anything meantime, you just sing out. Teal'c'll be at the door. He's one of Jack's people. You can trust him. An' I won't be far away. Okay?"

 

Malloy merely nodded.

 

"Okay..." MacGyver smiled kindly at his son, then told him once again. "It wasn't your fault, son. Remember that."

 

Again, Malloy merely nodded.

 

MacGyver reached to give his son's arm another paternal squeeze then he quietly withdrew from the room.

 

********************************

 

MacGyver came to an abrupt halt upon stepping from his son's room. A slightly alarmed expression crossed his face as he witnessed the organised chaos that was in the midst of erupting into the main body of the infirmary. Teams of medics were hastily manoeuvring two gurneys upon each of which lay a bloodied, BDU clad form. One of the teams were heading straight through the infirmary in the direction of one of the operating rooms, while more personnel clustered around the other gurney, working with rapid efficiency on the still form lying on it.

 

Two orderlies entered the infirmary, escorting a pale faced young marine whose garb was soaked in blood; whether it was his own, or someone else's blood, was not immediately apparent. He was walking slowly under his own steam, but the two orderlies were poised on either side of him, clearly ready to grab him should he keel over. MacGyver recognised him. His name was Mike Coleman and he held the rank of Captain.

 

This trio was followed by a blood and grime covered, limping, and seriously pissed off looking Colonel Robert Makepeace, who was accompanied by a grim faced O’Neill.

 

"It would appear that SG-3 encountered difficulties on P9G-485," Teal'c observed. The calm utterance of that statement earned the big Jaffa an askance look from MacGyver that was as close to one of O’Neill's 'Ya think?' looks as it was possible for anyone other than O’Neill to get.

 

"Slight understatement there, don't ya' think, Teal'c?" MacGyver returned. Teal'c merely twitched an eyebrow.

 

Knowing that the SGC's medical personnel were highly competent, MacGyver stayed where he was beside Teal'c. They didn't need rank amateurs such as himself getting underfoot. He looked across to where his cousin and Robert Makepeace were hovering. The Marine Colonel was clearly concerned about the man on the gurney and was trying to see what was going on without actually being a hindrance to the medical staff. O'Neill looked on grimly, while also keeping out of the way of the medics.

 

Suddenly the frantic activity around the gurney ceased and an eerie stillness settled for some moments. MacGyver saw one of the medics look in Makepeace's direction and solemnly shake his head. The Marine Colonel cursed loudly and seemed to be about to explode all over the medical staff when O'Neill firmly stepped in to rescue them and draw the seething SG-3 team leader away to one side.

 

As the cluster of medics quietly dispersed and a nurse drew a sheet up over the still form on the gurney, MacGyver caught enough of a glimpse of the dead man to identify him; Major Andy Kline. His gut twisted. He had met Kline for the first time some several years before in a steaming jungle in Central Africa. They had ended up saving each other's lives in a very messy situation involving guerrillas who had kidnapped several civilian volunteer aid workers. Most of the abductees had been U.S. citizens who had been working in a remote orphanage. A military covert ops team had been sent in to rescue them. MacGyver had already been at ground zero being one of the abducted civilians. He had been visiting the orphanage on behalf of the Phoenix Foundation in connection with one of the Foundation's many Third World aid programmes. The military rescue operation had gone down at the same time as Mac had instigated an escape plan of his own designed to extricate both himself and his fellow captives from the guerrillas' clutches.

 

Andy Kline had been a good man and Mac had been pleased to renew his acquaintance with him at the SGC. He sighed heavily, both mourning the Major's death and realising that the man who had been whisked through to the O.R. had to have been Sergeant Will Baker, another man whom Mac had first met a number of years before in hazardous circumstances. Inwardly he prayed that Baker would make it. Sighing again and gathering himself together, he turned to Teal'c.

 

"If anyone wants me, I'll be up in the Mess Hall scrounging up something for Sam. I won't be long," he told the Jaffa, who nodded solemnly in acknowledgement.

 

********************************

 

Tranquillity, MacGyver noted, seemed to have been restored to the infirmary when he presently returned there. Glancing observantly over the main area, he saw that Captain Mike Coleman had been cleaned up and installed in a bed beside which a drip unit had been set up. The man was curled up on his side, his eyes closed and apparently dead to the world. Mac didn't see any sign of Colonel Makepeace, but he did see O’Neill. The latter was in conversation with a nurse wearing theatre scrubs. Teal'c was still standing resolute guard by the doorway to Sam Malloy's room and didn't appear to have moved so much as a muscle since Mac had left.

 

MacGyver didn't miss the grim look that flickered across O'Neill's face as the nurse turned away and headed briskly in the direction of the O.R. that Will Baker had earlier been rushed off to. Then he saw O'Neill look in his direction and his expression switch to military neutral.

 

"How's Sergeant Baker doing?" MacGyver asked concernedly as O'Neill approached him and he easily read his expressive dark eyes.

 

"Not so good, Mac." O'Neill's military neutral expression slipped slightly. "Gonna be in surgery a while. Bad crush injuries. Could lose both legs."

 

"Ah God..." Mac breathed heavily at that unpleasant news.

 

"Coleman's in shock." O'Neill jerked a thumb in the general direction of the curled up Mike Coleman. "Andy Kline didn't make it."

 

"I know," Mac said quietly. “I saw.”

 

"Coleman carried him to the Gate, but his chest was all stove in. He had no chance."

 

"Makepeace?" MacGyver asked, aware of the bleakness that had crept into his cousin's eyes. It was the bleakness of a man who had seen too much death.

 

"Seriously pissed off, but mostly in one piece. He was drivin' the medics crazy so I ordered him to hit the showers."

 

MacGyver nodded, understanding. It was one reason why he preferred to work alone. Working alone, one only had one's own sorry hide to worry about dragging back home in one piece. A team leader didn't have that luxury. A team leader was responsible for the lives of all who were under his command and losing any was a hard thing to take. At least it was if the team leader was any good at his job and cared at all about those he commanded. Makepeace might be a fairly typical, hard ass marine, but MacGyver had become sufficiently well acquainted with him to know that he took the job of looking out for his men seriously. He was probably taking what had happened to his team personally. Good commanders tended to. He knew O’Neill did.

 

"So...What happened? Do we have any idea yet?" MacGyver asked, starting to head through the main body of the infirmary towards a small lab area that was adjacent to Janet Fraiser's office. O'Neill accompanied him, hands sliding into pockets.

 

"Earthquake," the Colonel answered tautly. "Seems they set up camp in some old temple ruins they'd found. They were gonna' flag it for us to maybe let Daniel take a look some time. It fell on them."

 

MacGyver hissed softly at the images which that information evoked in his mind. O'Neill continued.

 

"They were damn' lucky to get home at all. The 'quake knocked the Gate over. Fortunately it fell face up and the DHD survived intact."

 

"So they were still able to dial out and access the wormhole," MacGyver nodded pensively, his expression denoting his full comprehension of just how much worse SG-3's situation could have been. If the Gate had fallen face down... He blew out a breath and shuddered slightly at the thought.

 

"Once they'd dug themselves outta' what was left of the temple, yeah," O'Neill nodded. "What's in the box?" He inquired curiously, totally changing the subject and aiming his jaw at the cardboard box his cousin was carrying.

 

"Oh. This? Well, Lieutenant Armstrong said Sam could have something light to eat," MacGyver began to explain. “So I figured some eggs would...”

 

“Little under cooked there don't ya' think?” O'Neill observed critically, eyebrows arching expressively as he snuck a peek in the box and discovered it contained a small tray of fresh eggs, a couple of small cartons of milk, a carton of fruit juice, some crockery and cutlery and one or two other items.

 

"Hey," MacGyver protested defensively. "I've had the hospital food around here an’ Sam's been poisoned one time too many already." O'Neill's expression indicated that his cousin had a point there. Puzzlement then quickly followed.

 

"Forgive me if I'm a little dense here, Mac, but how you do intend to...cook ’em...?" The Air Force officer inquired curiously.

 

"Got all I need right here," MacGyver responded confidently, inclining his head at the lab area they had just reached.

 

"Ah... Mac. This is a lab, not a kitchen," O'Neill pointed out rather dubiously.

 

"Just a matter of perspective, Jack," MacGyver returned, moving to and setting his box down on a workbench as he scanned the lab. "We got sterilised heat resistant dishes to cook in." The Phoenix operative began to move purposefully around, gathering equipment together as he spoke, much to the bemusement of a lab tech already in residence, who, a test tube in hand, sat staring, his jaw sagging, as he observed MacGyver's activity. "We got tripods to rest 'em on. We got Bunsen burners to supply the heat." He lit one. "We got water..." He gestured to a sink. Seemingly oblivious to the incredulous expression that was spreading across Jack’s face by that point, MacGyver continued. "I probably got more stuff here than Sam an' I can use." He returned to his cardboard box and surveyed its contents pensively. "Millie was more than generous."

 

"Millie?" O'Neill repeated.

 

"Yeah. Ya' know," MacGyver looked up. "In the kitchens. Red haired Sergeant."

 

"Millie?" O'Neill croaked incredulously as he reached the mind numbing conclusion that the 'Millie' in question had to be one Sergeant Millicent O'Dell. She generally pulled the early shift in the mess hall kitchens.

 

"Yeah. Nice lady," MacGyver continued breezily as he began pulling stuff from his cardboard box. "Told me to take whatever I needed."

 

"She did?" O'Neill looked stunned. He was beginning to feel like he'd somehow inadvertently stumbled into the 'Twilight Zone'. Most of the base  including a certain Black Ops trained Air Force Colonel  lived in terror of Sergeant O'Dell. Personnel would volunteer for suicide missions before they'd volunteer to tangle with the Sergeant. Even Hammond quailed at the mention of the woman's name. O'Neill had once suggested half jokingly, as was his wont, to the General that the quickest and most sure fire way to deal with Apophis would be to sic O'Dell on him. Hammond had looked like he thought the idea had serious merit. The woman wasn't nicknamed 'The O'Dell from Hell’ among other, rather less polite things for nothing.

 

Holding up one of the eggs acquired from the mess hall kitchens, MacGyver inquired. "Ya' wanna eat with us, or ya' gonna' try your luck in the mess hall?"

 

"An' people wonder where I got my problem with scientists..." O'Neill sighed, shaking his head in mock incredulity.

 

********************************

 

"Ya' know, Fraiser's not gonna' be a happy camper when she finds out about this..." O’Neill observed, hitching a buttock onto a lab stool and waving a hand expressively at the lab bench before propping an elbow on said bench.

 

"Hey, I won't tell if you won't," MacGyver grinned as he set a couple of beakers of water onto tripods which he'd already set over lighted Bunsen burners and then adjusted the burner flames to his satisfaction. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder to check on the whereabouts of the resident lab tech. The man was still fiddling with test tubes and was endeavouring to look absorbed in whatever he was doing, but it was patently obvious he was fascinated by what Mac was up to and was surreptitiously watching everything. Aware of a tingling in his left hand that warned him that the K'Rin'sha crystal he carried was becoming 'active' again, he aimed a look at O'Neill that said: We need to talk privately.

 

O'Neill raised an eyebrow slightly, but acknowledged the silent request with a slight nod before looking towards the furtively watching lab tech.

 

"Hey, Airman. Why don’t ya’ go grab a cup of coffee or something." O'Neill's tone swung the 'suggestion' in the direction of being an order. When the lab tech hesitated, O'Neill gave him the benefit of a long perfected look guaranteed to scare the hell out of enlisted personnel.

 

"Sir." The lab tech nodded, scrambling to his feet while simultaneously depositing a test tube into a slot on a rack of other test tubes. As the man hurried from the small lab area, O'Neill threw after him.

 

"Ya' might wanna take your time over that coffee!" As the airman disappeared from view at a goodly rate of knots, O'Neill looked at MacGyver and took note of the serious expression on the slightly older man's face. "So. Mac. What's on your mind?" He inquired.

 

"It occurs to me that it might shortly be a good idea if you were to go make yourself highly visible somewhere else on the base for a while, Jack," MacGyver answered.

 

"Oh-kay. Ah...Why?" O'Neill inquired slowly, a frown appearing on his face as he watched his cousin pick up a slice of bread and, holding it by means of lab tongs, begin toasting it over the flame of a third Bunsen burner.

 

"So far, we've just been lucky that Sam hasn't spotted these things." MacGyver briefly exposed the crystal embedded in his left palm as he spoke. “But he's naturally observant and he's more awake now, so...”

 

“It's only a matter of time before he does notice an' the awkward questions start,” O'Neill nodded. He aimed a shrewd look at his cousin. "You're gonna' tell him, aren't ya'?"

 

"Did I say that, Jack?" MacGyver looked innocent.

 

“No, not as... Dammit, Mac, we- ”

 

“Need to get clearance from the General and get Sam to sign all the non-disclosure stuff before we can officially say a word about anything. Yeah, I know all that, Jack. That's why it might be a good idea for you to make yourself highly visible somewhere else for a while.”

 

"Plausible deniability," O'Neill sighed heavily. He'd caught up fast with his cousin's thinking. He wiped a hand over his face. "Arghh, Mac... " He began in frustration.

 

“Look, Jack. It'll take time to clear things with the General and do the paperwork. If I know my son, he's gonna' be asking questions long before that clearance comes through. Think about it, Jack. Sam's much more likely to be cooperative about non-disclosure if he doesn't get the run around. He's kinda' like me that way...Gets pig headed when he gets his curiosity tweaked and people won't give him any straight answers. Let's suppose, hypothetically of course...”

 

“Of course,” O'Neill confirmed, a trace of a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. "Hypothetically is always good."

 

“That a civilian here on the base was to say... 'let something slip' to Sam, the worst the General would probably do is have that civilian thrown off the base and get their security clearance pulled. On the other hand, if he were to have any reason to believe that someone under his direct command had knowingly and wilfully disclosed anything without clearance...”

 

"Court martial, jail time..." O'Neill nodded, sighing again as he kept pace with MacGyver’s train of thought. "Dishonourable discharge... Pension up the creek..."

 

"Yeah." MacGyver nodded. "An' I wouldn't want to be responsible for that. I know Sam wouldn't either. Hypothetically, or otherwise."

 

"Ya' know..." O'Neill made his decision. "Think I'll go have breakfast in the Mess Hall," he announced, rising to his feet. "Don't really feel like eggs this morning." He waved a hand vaguely at the tray of eggs that rested on the lab bench. "'Sides, I don't want to be around here when Fraiser gets in and sees what you're up to here..." O'Neill gave an impressive impersonation of a man in abject terror at the mere thought of what Fraiser's reaction was likely to be. "By the way..." he added helpfully as he rose to his feet. “I think you're about to go up in smoke," he concluded, waving a hand towards the toasting bread, which was beginning to smoulder quite spectacularly.

 

"Ah rats!"

 

O'Neill grinned as he heard the explosive utterance in his wake, accompanied by the betraying sounds of rapid movement and water being hastily turned on.

 

"Scientists..." O'Neill sighed despairingly, shaking his head with exaggerated sadness as he exited the small lab. "PhDs comin' outta' their ears... Can't even toast bread fer cryin' out loud..."

 

********************************

 

Endeavouring not to emulate a broody hen with only one chick, MacGyver patiently offered no comment as he watched his son toying with the remains of an egg soaked piece of bread. Sam had, after all, dutifully eaten one of the two poached eggs that had been set before him, along with approximately one half of the slice of soft bread upon which they had sat. The second egg and remaining bread was now beginning to resemble little more than a congealing pile of gooey, unappetizing, yellow mush. The couple of slices of lightly done toast that sat on another plate, butter long since soaked into them, lay untouched.

 

Finishing off his own eggs and slices of toast however, MacGyver found he could sit on his over protective parent instincts no longer. "You okay, son?" He asked, making no attempt to disguise his concern.

 

"Yeah..." Sam answered, sighing and mustering a slightly apologetic smile as he set his fork gently down on his plate. "Guess I'm just not as hungry as either of us figured... "

 

"That's okay." MacGyver smiled reassuringly in return.

 

"It was good though," Sam added. "It's just...Ya' know..." He gave the barest of little shrugs  then winced slightly as his injured shoulder protested the action.  MacGyver inclined his head slightly in sympathetic understanding, then, regarding his son shrewdly, he asked.

 

"You wanna' spit out whatever else it is that's botherin' you?"

 

Rubbing gingerly at his sore shoulder, Sam sighed softly again, then closed his eyes as he rested his head back against the pillows propping him up. "You probably can't tell me."

 

"Tell you what?"

 

"Where you an' Jack've been the past few days. Or why. Or what all that ruckus was earlier." Sam's eyes opened and regarded his father steadily. He witnessed MacGyver seem to become suddenly fascinated by the backs of his own hands. "Figured as much," Sam sighed, frustration all too apparent. Then he saw his father's gaze come up to meet his own and saw the troubled look contained in his eyes. "Dad?" He frowned.

 

"Actually, Sam, there are a few things I think you ought to know. Thing is, I don't exactly have clearance to tell ya' yet," MacGyver stated truthfully. "And even if it does come through, you'll have a lot of non-disclosure paperwork to sign before you can officially be told anything."

 

"Dad, don't do anything that's gonna' get you in trouble here," Sam cautioned, suddenly worried as his mind threw up some rapid theories on where the conversation was heading. "Not on my account. Look, I know you still sometimes do things you can't tell me about. An' let's face it, I'd have to be pretty dense not to already figure that whatever Jack does around here, it probably has very little to do with 'Deep Space Radar Telemetry', like he'd have me believe. Not with his background in Special Ops."

 

"Actually," MacGyver couldn't help but smile slightly. "What Jack does around here has much more of a connection to 'Deep Space Radar Telemetry' than you might think."

 

"Yeah?" Sam looked surprised and slowly shifted position to sit up a little more. Intrigued curiosity positively dripped off him. Then he seemed to remember where they were and sighed, slumping back against his pillows again. "But it's classified, right? Like everything else around here." Then he frowned. "But you know, don't you? Which means you must have clearance." A shrewd glint entered his eyes. "Your clearance rating's gotta' be a lot higher than you've been letting on all this time."

 

"Let's just say unexpected circumstances led to my finding out a lot more about what goes on around here than I was ever supposed to," MacGyver answered truthfully. He studied his son thoughtfully.

 

"What?" Sam inquired dubiously in response to the intensity of his father's gaze. "Dad?"

 

“I need your word you'll sign all the non-disclosure stuff and- ”

 

“I've been down the non-disclosure trail a coupla' times,” Sam interjected. "It's no big deal." He smiled at the slightly startled expression that crossed his father's face. "Hey, you're not the only one in the family with 'connections' you sometimes do favours for, ya' know."

 

"What?" MacGyver stared at his son. He and Sam had become very close over the past few years since they had first found one another and while they didn't exactly live in each other's pockets, MacGyver had been sure he'd come to know pretty much all there was to know about his son. Suddenly that supposition was heading rapidly for the door. Over protective parent instincts kicked in before he could stop them. "Dammit, Sam, don't you realise how dangerous...?"

 

“Crossing the road can be dangerous,” Sam interrupted reasonably, but with a slight edge to his tone. "Heck, just breathing in L.A. during the summer's dangerous. I can take care of myself you know." His head tilted slightly. "Thought we'd agreed that already?"

 

MacGyver met his son's dark eyed gaze and sighed. Heavily. They'd had the over protective parent/independent adult son talk on more than one occasion. "Yeah," He nodded reluctantly. "I know you can." He wiped a hand over his face, then looked at his son again and stated sincerely. "Doesn't mean I don't worry all the same."

 

"I know, Dad. I know." Understanding and acknowledgment shone in the young man's dark eyes. "That cuts both ways ya' know," he added. Without thinking about it, Sam moved and reached out with the intention of grasping his father's arm or shoulder. It was a move that was rather more adventurous than his injuries liked and they let him know about it in no uncertain terms.

 

"Aahhh!" Sam hissed, turning pale and halting his move as abruptly as he had started it.

 

"Sam!" MacGyver was a picture of worried parent in an instant as he saw Sam freeze and the colour drain from his face. Leaping to his feet, he reached to catch his son, whom he was feared was about to pass out.

 

*******************************

 

"Easy, Sam. C'mon now. Lie back an' take it easy, huh," MacGyver urged as he eased his son back against the pillows with firm gentleness. He felt the alien crystal embedded in his left hand flare to life. Frantically he tried to shut it down, but his concentration on that task was shot all to hell by his concern for his son.

 

"Whoa... " Malloy gasped in relieved surprise as the protests from his injuries subsided with breath-taking speed and a wave of well being washed through him, replacing the hurt. "I'm okay, Dad. I'm okay," he endeavoured to assure as he relaxed back against his pillows. "Really... "

 

As his father drew back with some hesitance, Sam noted the sensation of well being also seemed to lose some of its intensity and the discomfort from his various hurts seemed to somehow edge up a notch or two again. "Whoa! What the...?" Sam began to exclaim as he caught a glimpse of an odd greenish...well... glow, which seemed to be emanating from the palm of his father's left hand. "Dad? Your hand! What...?" Spurred by soaring curiosity, he once again moved far more quickly than was good for him in an attempt to grab MacGyver's left wrist. "Aaahhh... " As before, a surge of pain brought him up short and had his father reaching to push him back against the pillows once more. To Sam's surprise, the moment his father touched him, his hurt began to rapidly evaporate and the sense of well being returned. "Dad...?" He questioned as both confusion and curiosity vied for dominance in his brain. Vaguely he was aware of a deep voice a short distance away which rumbled.

 

"Do you require assistance, MacGyver?"

 

"Thanks, but no, Teal'c. Sam just got a little restless is all. We're fine," MacGyver glanced round to see the large Jaffa scrutinizing Sam and himself from the doorway. He saw Teal'c incline his head slightly in acknowledgement, then retreat back out of the room again. A hand clamping onto his left wrist, dragged MacGyver's attention swiftly back to his son.

 

"Let me see your hand." Malloy was insisting. Reflexively, MacGyver closed his fist in a vain attempt to conceal the glowing crystal. "Dad? Please?" Sam looked up at him, his eyes desperately mirroring the spoken plea.

 

An expression crossed MacGyver's face that betrayed him to be trying to reach a decision about something. Reaching that decision after the briefest of moments, he nodded and, settling himself carefully on the edge of his son's bed, he opened his hand and angled it so Sam had a clear view of the green glowing alien crystal he possessed.

 

"Whoa...." Sam breathed in stunned tone as he stared at the sight that had been fully revealed to him. "Whoa..." He repeated. Then, his tone one of awed wonderment, he gasped. "A Healing Stone... "

 

*******************************

 

Daniel rubbed at his eyes, settled his glasses back on the bridge of his nose and blinked at the man seated opposite him. Chomping on a mouthful of milk drenched Fruit Loops, O’Neill looked back, swallowed and raised an inquiring eyebrow.

 

Having been disturbed by the ruckus caused by SG-3's unscheduled return to the base, Daniel had given up on the notion of going back to sleep and had headed for his office with the intention of cranking up his coffee machine and getting some work done before people started disturbing him for things. He had barely gotten settled when O’Neill had breezed in, ignored his protests and dragged him down to the Mess Hall for an early breakfast.

 

Now, a plateful of maple syrup soaked pancakes later, he was on his second cup of Mess Hall coffee and was watching O’Neill stuff himself in a manner suggesting he hadn't seen food in a month.

 

"Guess that crystal's still playing havoc with your metabolism, huh?" Daniel observed. That evoked a blank look. He gestured vaguely and elaborated. "That's your third bowl."

 

"Need to keep my strength up. Keepin' you outta' trouble requires a lot of energy," O'Neill retorted, pushing the now empty cereal bowl aside and turning his attention to a Danish pasty. Daniel shook his head slightly and sipped some more at the coffee he was nursing as the Danish suffered serious and rapid damage. “Besides,” O'Neill continued conversationally as he chewed. “Soon as- ”

 

"Jack?" Daniel questioned with concern as the older man broke off mid utterance and stared off into space as if his mind had suddenly gone somewhere else. Daniel also witnessed O'Neill's left hand twitch and close. Oblivious to what anyone else in the room might think, Daniel abandoned his coffee, reached across the table and caught hold of his companion's left wrist, turning his hand over. The greenish blue glow of the K'Rin'sha crystal became clearly visible as O'Neill's fingers relaxed and his hand partially opened.

 

O'Neill seemed to come back to himself as suddenly as he had 'gone'. His gaze flickered down to the hand still holding his wrist and an eyebrow rose. Hastily Daniel let go, but his worried gaze remained determinedly fixed on the Colonel as his dark eyes came up to meet his own blue ones.

 

"Jack?" Daniel asked, imbuing that single word with a whole stream of questions as he read the astonished incredulity that O'Neill's eyes were broadcasting.

 

"Seeba was right, but 'interesting' isn't the word I'd've used," O'Neill announced. "Ah the hell with deniability," he muttered, rising to his feet. "C'mon."

 

"What?" Daniel blinked, rising to his feet almost simultaneously with the Colonel. His mind raced, trying to translate the older man's rather cryptic pronouncements. "Where?"

 

"Infirmary. The kid's seen one of these things before," O'Neill stated, flashing the greenish blue glowing crystal in his left hand at his companion before starting for the door. "Don't know 'bout you, but I'd kinda' like to have some answers for when the General asks where an' how."

 

"What?" Daniel stood staring, his brain kicking into overdrive as he tried to make sense of what he was hearing. Suddenly realising that O'Neill wasn't about to wait for him, Daniel roused himself and hurried after the fast departing Colonel. "Jack! Wait up!"

 

*******************************

 

"It is, isn't it?" Sam asked eagerly, tearing his gaze away from the green glowing crystal to look up at his father. "Dad?" He questioned as he discovered MacGyver was staring, slack jawed, at him.

 

"Have you seen one of these before?" MacGyver managed to pull himself together and enquire. "Where? When?" Although his mind was still reeling, he didn't fail to notice that his son quite neatly ducked the questions by gesturing to the alien crystal and asking.

 

"Can I...?”

 

At MacGyver's consenting nod, Sam gently explored the glowing crystal with his fingers. The glow flared more greenly, then began to shift towards blue, then blue white. "Whoa..." Sam gasped. It seemed to have become his favourite word all of a sudden. He looked a bit surprised by the crystal's colour change, but completely unafraid of it. "What's happening? Why's it changing colour like that? I didn't know it could do that. Is it supposed to do that?" The journalist questioned with eager curiosity and fascination. Then he suddenly looked up at his father. “Is this what they're working on here? Is this where you and Jack have been?" Then anxiety seemed to surround the him. “How did the military find out about...? They didn't take this by force, did they? Hurt those people? Dammit, Dad, tell me they didn't. Tell me Jack wasn't involved, that he didn't...”

 

“Whoa, Sam, whoa!” MacGyver's hands came up defensively in the face of the barrage of anxious questions and rapidly escalating distress emanating from his son. "Slow down. Nobody's taken anything from anyone by force as far as I know. I was given this," MacGyver waggled his left hand, "in order to save Jack's life." Sam stared, then questions filled his dark eyes as MacGyver met his gaze. "The mission Jack was on went pear shaped," the Phoenix operative said carefully, but truthfully. "He got his people out, but he didn't make it himself. I went with his team when they went back to get him. When we found him he was... hurt real bad...dying. Some... local people helped us, but there was no way Jack was gonna' survive the trip home, so they... gave me this. It saved Jack's life." MacGyver paused, then added. "Yours too incidentally."

 

"What?" It was Sam's turn to be slightly slack jawed. "Me? But... "

 

"That poison Grierson used...?" MacGyver reminded him and saw realisation begin to dawn in his son's eyes. “They didn't have the antidote on base and there was no way to get it flown in here in time so...”

 

“So you used the Healing Stone to save me...” Sam made the semi-correct deduction. "Whoa... Dad... " He breathed, slightly awestruck, as his gaze fixed on the glowing crystal again.

 

"I had help," MacGyver said quietly, remembering with gratitude how Jack had 'anchored' him in his blind panic; had enabled him to calm himself enough to be able to help Sam. And Alaeya too. The girl's 'assistance' had been minimal compared to Jack's, but it had played its part; helped provide the support he had so desperately needed.

 

"They're here?" Sam's head snapped up. Surprise and concern was written all over his face. "You brought them back with you? Dad, they can't stay here. They don't belong. Not here. You can't let the military... We've got to get them home where they belong." He began to shift with the clear intention of attempting to get out of his bed whether his injuries approved or not. "Where's Jack? I have to talk to Jack."

 

"Hey!" MacGyver deftly grabbed his son's 'good' shoulder, foiling the escape bid. "Hold it, Sam! You're not going anywhere 'til Doctor Fraiser says you can." He insisted, even as he saw his son turn pale again, felt a ripple of the discomfort coming from the younger man's injuries. "C'mon, Sam. Just stay put. Jack'll be here in a minute and believe me, he's just as keen to talk to you right now as you are to see him. Now c'mon. Lie back an' let me help ya' here."

 

Malloy resisted for a moment, then allowed himself to be pushed back against his pillows once more and closed his eyes against the hurt he had stirred up from his injuries again.

 

"Just relax," MacGyver instructed, bringing his left hand to rest gently on his pale-faced son's chest, the blue white glow of the K'Rin'sha crystal shifting to green even as he did so.

 

********************************

 

O’Neill strode purposefully into the main body of the infirmary. As he headed in the direction of the doorway Teal'c was still guarding, he noted that Mike Coleman was still blissfully oblivious to the world and that there was no sign of Will Baker having been brought out of the O.R. yet.

 

"Hey, Teal'c," he said by way of a greeting as he drew near to the big Jaffa.

 

"O'Neill," Teal'c acknowledged.

 

"You eaten?" O'Neill inquired. Even as he asked the question, he already knew the answer for his sharp eyes had spotted an egg stained, toast crumbed plate resting on a nearby unit.

 

"Indeed," Teal'c rumbled quietly. “MacGyver...”

 

“Yeah. Figured he might.” O'Neill nodded. He was not in the least surprised that MacGyver, while making breakfast for his son and himself, had seen to it that Teal'c had something to eat too. "Everything okay?"

 

"Sam Malloy became quite agitated a short while ago, but his father appears to have restored him to calm. I believe Sam Malloy wishes to speak with you, O'Neill."

 

O'Neill nodded and stepped past the big alien to enter the room housing his young cousin. He was not entirely surprised to find Sam settled back against the pillows partially propping him up, his eyes closed. Nor was he surprised to find MacGyver settled on the edge of the young man's bed, his left hand hovering over Sam's chest and a distinctly green glow emanating from the region of that hand. The green glow bathed Sam's chest wherever MacGyver's slow moving hand floated over it.

 

Glancing down at his own left hand, O'Neill visually confirmed what his senses were telling him; his own crystal was still active. The glow it was giving off was primarily blue, but there were distinct shades of a greenish tinge to it. Stuffing both his hands in his pockets, he advanced silently to the foot of Malloy's bed and waited there, watching as the glow from MacGyver's crystal followed his hand up to Sam's damaged shoulder.

 

Having followed O'Neill from the Mess Hall, Daniel hovered in the doorway for some moments, talking quietly with Teal'c while also observing what MacGyver was doing. Then he moved forward to stand at O'Neill's side. The Colonel acknowledged his silent presence with the briefest of sideways glances then went back to watching his cousins.

 

Presently the green glow from MacGyver's crystal winked out and he drew his hand away from his son. His shoulders slumped a little as if with weariness.

 

O’Neill 'felt' his own crystal seem to 'power down'. He also felt a familiar twinge in his stomach despite having just ravenously devoured three bowls of cereal and a Danish.

 

"Daniel..." He spoke quietly lest he disturb Sam, who was a picture of total relaxation and appeared to be asleep. Before he could say anything further however, he found a peanut candy bar being shoved under his nose. He looked at Daniel in surprise. “Ah... Thanks, but I meant...”

 

“I've got one for Mac too,” Daniel interjected quietly, brandishing a second bar in his other hand.

 

"You never cease to amaze me, Daniel," O'Neill murmured bemusedly as he took the candy bar being offered him. Daniel just ducked his head slightly and smiled in that half shy manner O'Neill had become well acquainted with over the past year or so, before moving around to where MacGyver was perching on Sam's bed.

 

It took MacGyver a few moments to realise that Daniel was hovering close by, although he was already well aware that O’Neill was somewhere quite near at hand. Tearing his gaze away from his son, he looked up and round to find Daniel regarding him with concerned blue eyes.

 

"You okay, Mac?" The archaeologist inquired quietly. As MacGyver gave him a slight smile and a nod, Daniel proffered the candy bar he was holding. "You need this?" He asked a little uncertainly.

 

"Thanks." MacGyver's smile grew, while surprise and appreciation showed in his eyes as he accepted the candy. Then he glanced at his son before he rose carefully to his feet. Sam showed no sign of waking; merely shifted slightly and made a soft sound that seemed to be one of contentment. Aware that Daniel was still hovering and was regarding him in a critical manner that suggested he wasn't too sure whether or not Mac might need his assistance to stay upright, MacGyver smiled reassuringly and made a little hand gesture that said: I'm okay. Daniel backed off slightly.

 

MacGyver glanced again at his son, then walked quietly to where O'Neill stood.

 

"The kid okay?" O'Neill asked, inclining his head slightly in Sam's direction.

 

"Yeah. I think so." MacGyver nodded. He looked at the candy bar that his cousin had already made inroads on. "Thought you'd eaten in the Mess Hall?" His expression said: Candy? At this hour?  Yuk. O'Neill looked pointedly at the bar Mac himself was holding. MacGyver glanced at the item in question, then, a smile twitching at his lips, slipped it into one of the breast pockets of his fatigues' shirt. "Ya' mind if we go siddown outside?" He asked, inclining his head in the direction of the door.

 

"Okay." O'Neill nodded and cast a glance towards the sleeping Sam before turning and following MacGyver, who was already heading for the door. Daniel followed them.

 

MacGyver headed straight for the nearest unoccupied bed and hauled himself up to sit on the edge of it.

 

"You okay?" O'Neill inquired, regarding him critically. He could feel a distinct sense of tiredness that wasn't his own; it was most definitely coming from his cousin. As MacGyver rubbed a hand over his face, O'Neill settled onto the bed beside him while Daniel hovered in front of the pair of them, arms folded and an intent expression on his face. "Maybe ya' should eat that candy bar Danny gave ya'?" He suggested. He had already finished his own and rid himself of the hunger pangs that had been stirring despite his having just had breakfast.

 

"No. I'm okay. Mebbie later." MacGyver shook his head, a slightly stubborn glint entering his dark eyes. "Sam's seen one of these things before." He said, waggling his left hand at his cousin.

 

"I got that." O'Neill confirmed. "Didn't get any details though."

 

"Neither did I," MacGyver sighed with ill concealed frustration. “He kinda' threw a hissy fit on me an' insisted that he needs to see you before he'll spill anything. Got himself in a bit of a state. I had to...” He made a vague gesture with his left hand again.

 

“Zap him? Send him to bye-byes?” O'Neill offered helpfully. It earned him a dirty look. Daniel jumped in before ruffled feathers got any more ruffled.

 

"So. You've no idea where Sam might have seen one of those crystals?"

 

"No." MacGyver blew out a breath as he answered and shook his head.

 

"But how could the kid have seen one before?" O'Neill questioned. "He's never been off world."

 

"He wouldn't necessarily have to," Daniel said with a sudden eager enthusiasm that O'Neill recognised from experience. He classed it as Daniel's patented 'I have a theory about this' mode. "Remember, we know the K'Rin'sha visit Earth from time to time. Phil Sternwise alone is proof of that." He looked at MacGyver. "That U.F.O. you saw was probably a K'Rin'sha ship." He began to pace about as he lapsed into what O’Neill liked to call 'lecture mode'. "Or belongs to some other race friendly to them, since every other indication we've had so far is that they prefer to travel by Stargate. And when we were on Sanctuary they pretty much allowed me to go wherever I wanted while you were laid up, Jack." Daniel had become quite animated by this point. "I didn't see any signs of any kind of a landing facility for ships, but given they have a Gate there, they probably don't need one. Or it could have just been located some distance away."

 

"Daniel..." O'Neill endeavoured to curtail the lecture. Daniel was on a roll however and continued to talk and pace. "And you were here when you were given your crystal, Jack. Suppose Sam encountered a K'Rin'sha here, on Earth somewhere? Like Mac did." He stopped pacing to focus on MacGyver. "You didn't actually see Phil use a crystal, Mac. But suppose Sam did? See a crystal being used, I mean." He regarded them with eager enthusiasm. "Think about it, guys. It is possible."

 

MacGyver and O'Neill looked at each other and Daniel witnessed an apparently wordless conversation seem to flow between them for a few moments. Then, as MacGyver wearily fished out and tore at the wrapping of the candy bar Daniel had earlier given him, O'Neill turned to his team archaeologist and announced in his best C.O. manner.

 

"So. When the kid wakes up, we ask him."

********************************

 

TO BE CONTINUED...

 

  
 

 

 

  
 

 

 

 

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