Archaeologists Do It in the Dirt
By Minerva.
Part 1
It was the tee shirt that caught Colonel Jack O'Neill's attention. He hadn't intended to pry into Dr Daniel Jackson's personal effects, merely pack them up and ship them off to storage or wherever such things went when the owner wasn't coming back and there was no next of kin. But the faded words emblazoned across the front of the tee shirt in the bottom of the almost empty duffle bag made Jack hesitate. He put down the armload of other clothes he had collected from the locker and pulled it out, holding it up for a better look.
"Archaeologists Do It In The Dirt" the tee shirt boldly declared. Thankfully there was no illustration. Jack smiled; tee shirt or not, he had a hard time imagining Daniel Jackson doing anything in the dirt other than digging. Despite his windfall with Sha're, the young archaeologist did not look like a ladies man.
On Abydos, Kowolski had begun taking bets on how long it would take the bumbling Dr Jackson to see there was more fun to be had than learning the local language from his very appealing wife. Jack had put a stop to the betting but not before ascertaining that very little other than talking was going on behind that closed curtain at night. Of course who could blame Jackson; there was scant privacy to be had and even the tiniest sound carried in the still of the night. Perhaps now that he was there alone with just the Abydonians, Daniel would feel more comfortable getting to know his new wife.
Jack took another look at the tee shirt. It was badly worn with several small tears; an out of date style from that figure hugging era of twenty years ago.
What had prompted Jackson to keep it all of these years? There were precious few personal possessions in the room and Jack had been told that the contents of the battered duffle bag and one suitcase were all that Dr Jackson had to his name when Catherine Langford had persuaded him to join the Stargate program. That suitcase had ended up on Abydos, full of Jackson's books and papers, things he might need for their mission. It was still there, a last reminder of the world that he had left behind.
But the duffle now sat on the bunk in front of Jack, empty but for the tee shirt and a battered paperback that was tucked into the side pocket. Carefully Jack pulled the book out; Erich Von Daniken's 'Chariots of the Gods'. An early edition, pages loose, the cover showing signs of spilt coffee. Jack flicked it open. 'To Danny, Reach for the Stars' the inscription read and it was signed by the author and dated 1975. Jack laughed. So this was where Daniel's unorthodox thinking originated.
As he flicked through the browned pages a photograph fell out. He was wearing that tee shirt, Jack noted straight away, a younger Daniel Jackson with much longer hair, sun streaked and tied back, tight blue jeans with a strategic tear on one thigh. He looked good, Jack thought, very good, and very young; late teens, no more. He was standing arm in arm with another young man with long blond hair and an identical tee shirt. They were both tanned and dirty, posing in front of what could only be an archaeological dig. Jack turned the photo over; 1983, the writing read, then, Heaven Can Wait, Love Lin.
Lin? Jack blinked and turned the photo back. Yes, that was definitely a guy standing with Daniel, no mistaking it, despite the name. The unshaved chin with its sparse growth put an end to Jack's hope that perhaps he had made a mistake. Jack looked closer, noting the way their arms were draped around each other. Friends, close friends, very close friends. It was evident in the casual way they leaned together, hips touching, shoulders close. And their smiles.
Jack shook his head and smiled to himself. Dr Daniel Jackson was full of surprises. He tucked the photograph back into the book and placed it back into the bag before picking up the tee shirt again. Was it a souvenir of sorts? A commemoration of their relationship, that Jackson had been unable to part with? Did he sleep in it at night and dream of his lover, long gone? For one moment Jack had the strongest urge to bury his nose in the cotton and inhale. Would the scent of Daniel Jackson linger there still?
Jack thrust the tee shirt into the bag and continued packing, suddenly conscious of the ever present security camera. The SF's would have a field day if they caught Colonel Jack O'Neill sniffing the tee shirt of a geeky civilian archaeologist who had been lost on an alien world on the other side of the universe! It was for a similar reason that Jack told himself he couldn't leave the bag and its contents to fate. There was sensitive material here, things that could harm Jackson if they fell into the wrong hands. His mind made up, Jack stuffed the rest of the clothing and a few personal items in, closed the bag and returned to his office. The bag would be safest with him. It was the least he could do for the man who had saved his life.
Part 2
It was easy taking Jackson's duffle bag off base. No one questioned him when he said it was his, and the quick contents check revealed nothing but clothing. Jack made a mental note to do something about security if the project should continue, but that seemed doubtful now. Despite his promise to Jackson to return, Jack and his team had reported to General West that their mission had been accomplished and the Stargate had been destroyed. They all knew it was the only way to ensure the Abydonians were left in peace. The military mindset did not allow for compromise, and if the powers that be should find out the other gate still existed, then Jack knew another team would be sent through to achieve what he had failed to do. And he couldn't allow that to happen, not to Skaara and the other kids, not to the Abydonians and not to Daniel Jackson.
Jack opened his front door, surprised yet again at the darkness and silence. Sara was gone, he reminded himself. Gone. He flicked the light switch trying to banish the loneliness with illumination. It didn't work; the house felt cold. Kicking the door shut, Jack carried Jackson's duffel into the spare room. He intended to put it in the closet, an apt place, Jack thought with a wry smile, but curiosity got the better of him and he placed it on the bed and opened it once more.
A few clothes, conservative and unstylish, a distinct lack of underwear, odd socks. Jack pulled out the paperback again and extracted the photo.
'Heaven Can Wait'; it had to be the title of a song, one that Jack knew only too well by Meatloaf from the 'Bat Out of Hell' album. Jack found himself humming a few lines. Sara had liked that song but Jack had preferred 'Paradise By the Dashboard Light'. Now there was a song he could relate to! On impulse he wandered to the living room and hunted through the LP's, breathing a sigh of relief when he found it. At least Sara had left that for him. He switched on the stereo and listened expectantly as the stylus scratched it way towards music, but even the hard beat of heavy rock could not dispel the emptiness. He grabbed a beer from the kitchen and studied the photo again.
He envied Daniel Jackson; envied him in more ways than one. His new life on Abydos was only the beginning. But would Daniel be happy there? He said he wanted to stay, to explore the ruins and the temples and to study the Abydonian way of life. Jack had presumed he wanted to stay because he had a wife there too, although after finding the photo, Jack wondered if he should revise that opinion. Jackson had not asked for a wife; perhaps he was simply too polite to refuse. Did he even like women?
God, now he was obsessing over Daniel Jackson's sexuality. Jack shook his head and returned to the spare room, his intent to put the photo and Jackson's things away once and for all, but he'd scattered clothes all over the bed, and that tee shirt was there again. This time Jack gave in to impulse and buried his face in the fabric. Sweat, salty and alluring; masculine. Jack breathed deeply and a thousand images came to mind. Images of Jackson and his friend Lin, sweaty and naked in the dirt, hands tangled in long hair, mouths hungry, bodied rubbing. Jack threw the photo on the bed and walked out, closing the door firmly behind him.
He was lonely, that was all. He missed Sara, missed Charlie, missed the life he had made for himself, with a wife and a family and a comfortable home. The perfect life, the expected life, the life he had chosen.
Jack closed his eyes and for the first time in over twenty five years, he allowed himself to wonder what his life might have been like had he taken a different path, the one he had wanted to follow but had lacked the courage.
Daniel Jackson'd had the courage, that damned photo proved it.
It wasn't surprising really, Jackson's courage was evidenced in many ways. He'd travelled to an alien world, with only blind faith that he could somehow get them home. And he'd saved Jack's life by taking the blast that was meant for him. Jack laughed to himself. Perhaps that was not so much courage as stupidity; others would say so, but not Jack. In a flash of insight, Jack suddenly knew what it was that made Daniel Jackson tick; hope!
Daniel had never once given up hope that all would be well, and surprisingly it had.
But the most amazing thing of all was that a little bit of that hope had rubbed off onto Jack O'Neill. Daniel had given him that, Jack thought to himself as he downed the last of his beer. Daniel had given him back that little spark of humanity that had died with Charlie; that belief that no matter how grave the situation was, there was always hope. Jack had held that belief once, had even come to rely on it. It's what had sustained him through an Iraqi prison, through war zones, and combat. He'd thought it lost forever with Charlie, but now he knew it was back and it was what would carry him through this latest drama with Sara. Hope.
And Perhaps like Daniel Jackson, Jack had a new chance at life; a chance to do the things he'd always wanted.
If he could find the courage this time around.
Part 3
Over the following months, Jack found his obsession with Daniel Jackson growing. At first he put it down to curiosity. He did a security check on Jackson's background and found out all he could about the archaeologist. There was no mention in his past history of a Lin, either male or female, nor was there any reference to Jackson's sexuality. Whatever his persuasion, he'd been discreet.
Jack even paid a visit to Catherine Langford on the pretence of returning the medallion as Daniel had requested. It also provided a wonderful opportunity to question the older woman about Daniel's past while they reminisced and exchanged stories about the irrepressible Dr Jackson. Once again there was no mention of a Lin, or any other men for that matter and Jack was forced to wonder if perhaps Daniel had finally been compelled to walk a straight path too. And yet he'd dabbled his feet off the other side of the bridge at least once, of that Jack was certain. That picture spoke a thousand words and none of them needed translating. And Daniel Jackson had kept it.
In one of those cosmic twists of fate that defy logic, Jack was surprised to learn that Daniel had not long broken up with a young woman named Sarah. What irony! If Daniel had returned instead of staying on Abydos, then perhaps they could have consoled each other over the loss of their respective Sara's. And with that thought came another, vivid and dangerous, of exactly how he'd go about that consoling.
Jack had pushed the images away, saving them for the darkness when he could give reign to his fantasies. He'd resisted at first, embarrassed and uncomfortable, but as the Stargate project wound to a close, and retirement loomed once again on his horizon, Jack allowed himself to wonder if it was too late to rethink his life and start over. Times had changed, things were more open, and if anyone DID decide to question his sudden change of sexuality, well he could let them blame it on the death of his son and the loss of his wife; he'd heard worse excuses on Jerry Springer!
But dreaming about batting for the other team and actually going for the try-outs were a long way apart, Jack discovered. He didn't know where to begin. So he settled for his late night fantasies, most of which now starred Dr Daniel Jackson in a recurring role. Thank God he would never have to face the man, because Jack doubted he could look him in the eye if they ever met again. Then again, perhaps Daniel would find the whole scenario quiet amusing; that a forty something retired colonel regularly jerked off over an old photo with his nose buried in one of said Dr Jackson's old tee shirts.
Men had been locked up for less!
With too much time on his hands, Jack even found himself reading 'Chariots of the Gods'. He could see how such a book would ignite the imagination of a ten year old boy; hell he almost fell for some of it himself. After all he'd been there, done that and had the tee shirt to prove it. Well, he had A tee shirt and it was certainly igniting his imagination. Jack wondered just when he'd become so kinky.
When the settlement with Sara went through and Jack was forced to move house, Daniel's duffel bag came too. Jack had no reason to take it; the tee shirt, photo and book had taken up permanent residence in his bedside table, but the rest of Jackson's things really had no use. Somehow Jack couldn't throw them out. It was as if in doing so, Daniel would somehow be lost to him. Lost to the world, Jack corrected. While he held onto the bag, there was still the hope that someday Daniel might make it back. Ridiculous, yes, but Jack had always had a streak of superstition hidden deep inside. He blamed it on his Irish heritage.
So the battered duffel found a new home in the new spare room in Jack's new house, and the Jack continued his harmless fantasies about the dashing Dr Jackson, wanton Archaeologist, doing it in the dirt here, there and everywhere, including under the stars on Jack's new rooftop observatory platform.
That observatory platform had been getting a lot of use lately, and not just in Jack's fantasies. He'd taken to watching the stars again, a long time hobby that had somehow become sadly neglected over the years. He'd never made it to NASA, which had been his childhood dream. He'd never been quite smart enough to pass their rigorous tests. Physics and maths had never been his strong points. He held no degrees in the sciences or astro-physics or any of those other impressively sounding credentials that were required. Sure he could fly a plane and shoot a gun and blow things up, but that wasn't enough to get him into the space program. His dreams of flying to the moon and the planets had faded away like so many others and Sara had packed away his unused telescope without Jack even noticing.
But something had reawakened Jack's longing to look once more at the stars and now he found himself with a strange regret when he thought about the Stargate and the possibilities it had offered. He wondered if perhaps there were other places to which they could have travelled; they being Dr Daniel Jackson and himself. They'd have made a great team, the two of them, brains and muscle, feeling and thought. Hell, he could have pulled his old team together; Kowalski, Feretti, and one or two others he had served with and they could travel the stars seeking out new life and new civilizations, sort of like Star Trek but without the Enterprise. Jack found it was easy to let one fantasy meld with another and soon Space Colonel Jack O'Neill and Astro-Archaeologist Dr Daniel Jackson were doing it in the dirt on countless planets across the universe, boldly going where no man had gone before.
So perhaps it was fitting that Jack was on his astronomy platform that fateful evening, gazing heavenward, when an unexpected visit from Major Samuels USAF brought fantasy and reality crashing together and Jack found himself plummeting head first, back to earth with a bang.
With a sense of deja vu, Jack listened to Samuels' request. The air force wanted him; again. But it was a much different Jack O'Neill who would answer the call this time. And answer he would. Jack couldn't say no. The lure of the Stargate and what lay on the other side, was too great. And then there was the Daniel Jackson dilemma. Jack cringed, remembering his fantasies. He had no doubt that some time in the not too distant future, the subject of Daniel Jackson and what had happened on Abydos was sure to be raised and Jack was the one who would be expected to supply the answers. Perhaps he could convince them that his original report was true, but then again, perhaps not. Perhaps it was finally time to tell the tale of what really occurred.
And if that happened? Jack grew warm and his breathing faltered. If that happened, then Jack knew he'd once again come face to face with Daniel Jackson, only this time it wouldn�t be in his dreams.
This time it would be in the flesh.
The End.