Notes: This is a response to a July Challenge on the 'Little Danny' Yahoo list--Daniel's birthday on the 8th of July! =) It's part of the 'One Is Enough' series, set in the 'Rebirth' universe, and will be added to the series listing itself when I write the stories that lead up to it. For now, I'll leave it under Challenge Entries. =)

"Hey...Jaaaack?"

'Jaaaack' expertly slipped two eggs onto his plate, adding to the bacon, toast and hashbrowns already occupying it and slid into his seat before answering. He knew the tone the five--no, six--year old voice had adopted, and knew it was better to delay the inevitable. "Yes, Daniel."

Juggling a fork that seemed absurdly large in his small hand, Daniel speared a piece of the scrambled egg making up part of his Happy Face Birthday Special, swiped it through his ketchup. "How old'm I?" he asked, the curious question immediately followed by the stuffing of said egg into a mouth that was entirely too small to accept it, and vigorous chewing that assaulted both sight and hearing. Jack grimaced, both at Daniel's unchanged eating habits and the question.

"You're six now," he responded noncommitally, "you know that. You knew how old you were before the rest of us did, remember?"

"Nooo," Daniel said exasperatedly, tapping his fork impatiently on the table, "not like that! I mean how old am I really? Like old when I was big."

Jack took his sweet time chewing a slice of bacon, avoiding the wondering blue eyes. "Why do you want to know that?" he asked finally, his tone a little more impatient than he'd intended. Daniel looked a little affronted by Jack's apparent anger, but timidly pressed on, determined to get his answer.

"Idano," he mumbled to his breakfast, fingering each tine of his fork with great interest and lifting his shoulders into a small shrug. "Just do...am I old as you? Or Teal'c?"

"Teal'c's one hundred and five years old; I certainly hope you're not that old," Jack teased, steering clear of the question. He silently applauded himself when Daniel's eyes bugged out in amazement.

"Hunnerd'n'five! That's old!" he crowed in delight. "He's a'most old as Leonard!"

Jack almost snorted bacon and eggs all over the table. Leonard Marksmith, his elderly neighbour a few houses down, was eighty-six but looked about six thousand eighty-six--the poor man must have come down with every illness known to humankind, and in the past, Jack had used that assumption to inevitably liken the senior's luck to Daniel's--which, in Jack's not-soft-at-all heart, had led to him checking in on the old-timer a couple of times a week, just in case he needed a hand with anything. This was the first time Daniel had ever mentioned anything about how old Leonard looked--he'd have thought the little guy would have compared him with some mummy long ago. "Yeah, almost," he managed past stifled whuffs of laughter.

"How old are you, Jack?" Daniel wanted to know.

Jack's laughter died and he fixed Daniel with a mock indignant stare. "Old enough."

"Old enough t'what?" his adversary pressed on, the subject in a stranglehold. "C'n you ride a big ten-speed like Christina?"

Jack mentally shook himself. Ah, to think like a five year old. "I'm old enough to drive a...fifty-speed," he informed Daniel brazenly, willing to participate in the conversation as long as it followed the whimsical route.

"How old's Sam?"

"Forty-two." Hey, it was his house; he could be honest.

"How many years smaller'n Sam was Big Me?"

Why that sneaky little...Jack eyed him scrupulously. "Why is this so important?" he hedged.

A shrug, and Daniel innocently gulped more chocolate milk, leaving a brown mustache all around his upper lip. He smacked his lips in satisfaction. "'Snot. Just wonderin'. Pleeeeeaaaaaasse tell me?"

"You were thirty-six--almost thirty-seven," Jack relented at last. Hell, they'd missed Daniel's 'thirty-seventh' birthday--that was when he was on Rannia's planet, and they weren't really sure how old to call Daniel once he'd descended. He'd technically been dead, so Jack decided to just erase that one year. It worked fine, since Daniel had never looked his age anyway.

"Oh."

That's it? All that mind-screwing conversation for 'oh'?

"Is that old?" Daniel asked plaintively.

Jack felt a lump rise in his throat and he hastily cleared it. "No. No, it's not." He didn't know if he liked where this was going.

"Is it too old for a birthday party?"

"N--what?!" Jack studied Daniel incredulously. The wide, guileless blue eyes met him stare for stare, completely serious, completely worried.

"Did I have birthday parties when I was big? Do Sam'n'Teal'c have birthday parties? I don' wanna be too old for birthdays, Jack."

The worry--and hope--that Daniel was interested in learning about his 'Big' self deflated rapidly, leaving a part of Jack feeling oddly bereft and another--surprisingly large--part feeling a profound sense of relief. Daniel was worried about outgrowing birthday parties...such a five-year-old worry...and Jack almost laughed aloud at the fact he was so absurdly happy that Daniel actually fit every guideline for a five-year-old. 'Six year old,' his pesky inner voice corrected him automatically. "You won't," Jack assured him, aware of the fact he probably had a big, stupid smile on his face. "You never will; no one is ever too old for birthday parties."

"Not even Leonard?"

Jack laughed. "Not even Leonard."

=====

The face that greeted Jack when he arrived at the mountain's daycare facility wasn't a happy one. No sirree, bob. Smothering a sly smile, he'd covertly pulled the door open, slinked inside...and had the smile wiped from his face when the first thing he'd seen was Daniel, in full self-hug mode, sitting in the corner, back to the door, chin tucked in to his chest. Jack could sense the pout, even from where he was standing, out of visible range. Dora, the proprietor of the daycare, swerved from her intended route of checking on a couple of little kids playing with clay when she spotted Jack, and made her way up to him instead, a tight smile on her face. Jack sighed. "What happened?"

Dora frowned and followed his gaze to the sullen figure in the corner, still oblivious to the fact Jack was there. "Colonel, forgive my nosiness, but did something happen at home?" At Jack's slow, inquisitive headshake, she shrugged helplessly. "Daniel hasn't been himself today--after you dropped him off he was playing with a few children in the block corner and began pushing Ian Sutton."

Jack blinked. "'Pushing' as in..."

"As in fighting, yes, Colonel. I asked Daniel what was wrong, but he refused to tell me."

Arms crossed, Jack thoughtfully tapped his right forefinger on his left arm. "I'll talk to him," he assured Dora at last, mustering a grateful smile. "Thanks."

"He's a sweet little boy, Colonel," she said quietly. "If there's something in the daycare itself making him uncomfortable or feel like he has to--"

"I'm sure it isn't," Jack said certainly. "Daniel loves coming here...this must be something else." 'But whatever the hell it is...' Jack weaved around the playing children, his attention set on his little charge in the corner, and crouched beside the kid-sized chair. Daniel's gaze was fixed firmly on the floor, his sneakered toes bumping gently against the wall. Jack heard a quiet little sniffle, and reached up to rub the back of the tense little neck. "Hey," he said quietly, when Daniel turned big, wet eyes to him. "What happened today?"

Daniel glanced unconsciously across the room, and Jack automatically followed his eyes, to find himself looking at a chattering little dark-haired boy; one of the few kids manipulating the large clay deposits in an opposite corner. Ian Sutton, he assumed silently. He gave the nape of Daniel's neck a little squeeze, garnering his attention again. "What happened?" he reiterated. "Pushing another kid--that's not like you at all. Did Ian say something to you? Did he push you first?" Daniel looked like he was considering answering 'yes' to one--or both--of those questions, but finally shook his head slowly. Jack sucked in his lower lip a moment, studying Daniel, then released it on a sigh. "Then what, buddy? Why would you start fighting with him?" Jack briefly had a flashback to the time Daniel had gotten into trouble at school for a few other shoving incidents...those times, Daniel had been pushed to the end of his tether and hadn't been to blame for instigating those incidents, but now Jack had to wonder...

Daniel muttered something under his breath that Jack missed, and Jack raised an eyebrow. "What'd you say?" he asked.

Daniel shook his head determinedly, locking his eyes on his swinging feet again. Jack sighed--he really didn't want to start interrogating Daniel in front of his friends--and stood. "C'mon," he said quietly. "Let's go home." It seemed to be the right thing to say, as Daniel looked up hopefully and raised his arms in a silent plea to be carried--a plea Jack obliged "Only because you're the birthday boy," he teased with an exaggerated grunt as he settled Daniel in his arms. At his remark, Daniel's hopeful expression shuttered. Jack blinked. 'What the...?'

Dora approached with an engaging smile, seeing they were preparing to leave, and snagged one of two little gift bags off a shelf as she passed, Daniel's book bag in her other hand. "Here you are, sweetheart," she said as Jack accepted the book bag with one hand. She held up the gift bag for Daniel to take. Daniel hesitantly took it, tucking it between his and Jack's chests.

Jack nudged him when Daniel's face seemed headed for a downward plant into Jack's shoulder. "Hey. What do you say?" he urged.

Daniel rolled his head over on Jack's shoulder to face Dora. "Thank you," he whispered.

"And..."

Daniel glanced up at Jack for a moment, then blushed a deep red. "Aannnd sorry I was fighting," he said, even more quietly, almost mouthing the words rather than speaking them.

Dora rubbed his upper arm gently. "Apology accepted, Daniel. Now you go on home, darling, and enjoy the rest of your birthday, all right?"

Jack was surprised at the quiet little sniffle he heard as he felt Daniel nod against his neck, then hug both arms around Jack's neck. Jack and Dora exchanged good-byes, and Jack couldn't help but grin when, as he carried Daniel out of the daycare, a chorus of "Happy birthday, Daniel!" followed them out and into the corridor. The munchkin didn't even stir; Jack felt a slight movement against his chest as Daniel squeezed the gift bag Dora had given him a little tighter, but otherwise didn't react.

Oh yeah. Big, BIG talk on the agenda--as soon as possible.

=====

"Okay." Jack pulled the truck into a gas station parking lot, turning off the engine far enough away to not be amid the hustle and bustle of daily activity in the area, and turned in his seat to face Daniel, reaching back to unbuckle him. "Talk to me."

Daniel innocently glanced around himself, at their surroundings, at the people coming and going to the pumps. "Jack, we're not home," he announced.

"Nice try. C'mon up here." Daniel briefly hesitated, but Jack made sure he had his 'Colonel Face' on--one Daniel knew better than to question--and his newly-turned six year old carefully squeezed between the front seats of the Avalanche to sit in the passenger seat. Jack positioned himself so he could face Daniel, half-sitting on his bent right leg. "Now. What happened at daycare today? I know for a fact you were fine when we left this morning; you were all smiles when I dropped you off at school. Did something happen there?" He cursed himself for having to work later than usual and not being the one to pick Daniel up from the elementary school. "Did something happen at daycare? On the way to daycare?" He reached out and took both Daniel's fidgety hands in one of his. "Don't do that; talk to me."

Daniel's jaw worked a little and he wormed one of his hands free of Jack's grip, leaving his left where it was, closed in the firm, gentle warmth of Jack's. With his free hand he traced Jack's knuckles, his fingers, then sighed unhappily. "'Snotspecial," he whispered into his chest. Jack had to lean closer to hear him.

"What?"

Daniel finally looked up with a sniffle. "You said my birthday was special. You said it was my special day."

"It is your special day, kiddo. This is your day--where everyone gives you what you want when you want it." Jack cajoled him with a grin, giving the underside of his chin a little tap. Daniel leaned back, just out of reach, and shook his head. "Okay, I'll bite," Jack said with a frown. "Why don't you think it's your special day?"

"'Cause."

Jack tamped down on the reflexive frustration that gave him a brain fart. "Sorry Daniel; that's not going to cut it. No monosyllables, please. Tell me--and look at me--why isn't this your day?"

Reluctantly, Daniel lifted his head. "'Cause Ian said it's his day...'n he's older."

Under normal circumstances Jack would have laughed at the idea of 'claiming' days, but all he had to do was take one look into the troubled eyes of his kid and see that he, like every other kid out there, took it very seriously indeed when someone else tried to lay claim to their birthday. "Ah," he said solemnly. "So this is Ian's birthday too, huh?"

Daniel's brow creased and he nodded. "He said 'snot just my day. He said it's his day too, and he said it's his auntie's day, too." Pleading eyes turned up to Jack's. "I want it to be just my day!"

Jack sighed. "Danny, look at it this way, okay kiddo? How many people are there in the whole world?"

"Lots'n'lots. A'most six billion."

"Right. And...how many days are there in one year?"

"Three hunnerd sixty-five." Realization dawned on him. "'Snot a-nough days for everybody in the whole world, right Jack?"

"Right." Jack palmed the top of his head, tousling the soft hair under his hand. "I hate to say it, kiddo, but I think a lot more people in the world besides Ian and his auntie share the same birthday as you. But," he said, "that doesn't stop the day from being anymore your special day. Me, Sam, Teal'c, General Hammond, Lou, Siler, Walter..."

"Jack," Daniel giggled as Jack kept trying to count more people on his fingers.

"...Maddy, Cassie, Leonard..."

Daniel's giggles escalated. "Leonard doesn' know it's my birthday!"

"Oh, doesn't he?" Jack winked at him. "But listen...everybody you know, at the mountain, in our neighbourhood...they don't celebrate Ian's birthday, or his auntie's birthday, or her auntie's birthday, or her auntie's birthday--"

"Jaaaaack!"

"Do they?" Jack prodded.

Daniel smiled shyly. "Nooo..."

Jack grinned. "Whose birthday do they celebrate?" He cupped his hand around his ear. "C'mon, I can't hear you."

"Mine."

"Exactly." Jack pulled Daniel from the passenger seat into his lap and cuddled him for a minute. "All our friends celebrate your birthday. That makes it your special day, because everyone we know knows it's your day. Just like we all knew it was Teal'c's special day way back on Halloween, right?"

"Tha'snot Teal'c's birthday though," Daniel protested. "He said him'n'you'n'Sam'n'Big Me made it up so he'd have a day."

Jack shrugged. "That doesn't matter. Teal'c picked his favourite day, so we all made it his special day."

Daniel rubbed the material of Jack's t-shirt between his thumb and forefinger. "So...everyone we know makes it my special day?"

God bless former triple PhD's. "That's right. All your friends will make it your special day, even when you might not think it's your special day...like right now, huh?"

He was graced with a timid little smile and shrug. "Maybe it's my special day," Daniel said slowly, daring a glance up at Jack as if waiting for him to contradict him.

"Now you've got it." Jack kissed the top of his head. "And now...I have to talk to you about your behaviour at daycare today." Aaannnd there went the head, right back down again. "When has fighting ever solved any problems?" he asked sternly.

Daniel shook his head. "Never," he admitted in a whisper.

"And why did you think it would solve things today?"

"I didn' think it would...I just got mad...and I pushed Ian."

"Right. You know better than to fight to try and solve things, don't you?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Next time you're at daycare, what are you going to do?"

"Say 'sorry'...again. Sorry Jack. Are--are you mad at me?"

Jack hugged him, rested his chin on the top of his head. "I'm a little disappointed that you'd push one of your friends," he said, "but I'm glad you know that you were wrong--and that you apologized already. I think we can let it go just this once, because it's your birthday...but if I ever hear of you starting fights with the kids at daycare or at school again..."

"You won't. I won't," Daniel promised rapidly, throwing his arms around Jack's neck and squeezing for all he was worth. "Love you, Jack."

"I love you too, buddy...now what do you say we get home? I think there's a cake waiting for us in the fridge."

=====

"SURPRISE!"

Grinning like a mad dog, Jack spun around as he got far enough inside the house to allow Daniel to follow him inside the rest of the way and joined in the deafening chorus that originated from the darkened living room, kithen, hallway...Jack wouldn't have been surprised if he looked out the window and found more people hanging from the roof. Daniel had squinted in the suddenness of the light, and now stood stock-still in the still-open doorway, mouth half-open, the gift bag from Dora hanging from one hand. As Jack watched, his book bag, which had been looped over one shoulder, slipped to the floor with a dull thump. "Jaa-aack?" he questioned, startled as someone materialized in the hallway and closed the door firmly behind him.

"Happy birthday, Danny!" Lou Ferretti scooped him up from behind and bore him into the living room, where just about everyone Jack could think to invite was crammed, all graciously accepting the lack of elbow room. More voices chorused Ferretti's enthusiasm, and Jack was relieved when Daniel got over his initial shock at finding so many people and accepted hugs and kisses--and, of course, presents--from everyone in attendance, having an all-around good time. With everything that had happened in the past year, Jack didn't think anyone deserved a happy birthday more than Daniel...

"Hello, hello, folks! Where's that grandson of mine?"

Jack grinned as he turned around to find a very familiar elderly couple squeezing their way down the couple of stairs into the living room. His parents gave him only a cursory greeting--for which Jack figured he could forgive them, just this once at least--and passed right by, making beelines to where Daniel was being passed from Sam's attention to Cassie's. "Hello, Daniel, a chuisle mo chro�!" Charlotte cooed.

"Grammie!" Daniel wriggled in Cassie's arms to be let down and bounded over to his adopted grandparents, throwing his arms around Charlotte's neck and planting a big kiss on her cheek. Over the laughter and various conversations being carried on in the small room, Jack could hear a few snatches of Gaelic, his mother making sure Daniel still remembered the bit she'd taught him, at his request, the month before. "Conas at� t�?" he heard her murmur, and Jack frowned as she frowned at Daniel's enthusiastic "T� m� go maith ". "Jack is feeding you?" she asked loudly, and the subject of her wrath moved forward to his own defense. "He's so thin, mo chro�," she chastised.

As his father plucked Daniel from Charlotte's arms into a bearhug of his own, Jack tugged his mother close, one arm around her shoulders. "He's just small, ma," he reassured her--as he'd done the first time she'd met Daniel. "I think Daniel was always small as a kid." He felt a profound sense of relief that he could speak to his parents in past tense about Daniel; they hadn't bought Jack's rather pathetically contrived cover story about the adult Daniel's whereabouts and the sudden appearance of the little fella, and with General Hammond's extremely reluctant permission, Jack had let them in on most of the events that had led up to Daniel's transformation...which, of course, meant letting them in on the existence of the Stargate.

"Mrs. O'Neill, I presume?" Ferretti insinuated himself into the conversation, a charming smile on his face. "Louis Ferretti. Very pleased to meet you."

Jack glared at Ferretti. "Fuck o--" he was cut off with a wheeze, as his mother's elbow connected with his exposed midsection. "Maaa--" he gasped. Ferretti howled with laughter.

"Watch your language, Jonathan," Charlotte ordered.

Jack pulled away from her, wounded, rubbing at his injured lungs and trying to regain his breath. "Sorry, ma."

"Ma'am, I knew I'd like you," Ferretti hooted, giving Jack a little toast with his glass of punch. "We need her around more often, Jack!" He offered Charlotte his arm. "Can I offer you a drink of something, Mrs. O'Neill?"

"Call me Charlotte, dear. And of course you can."

"Hey!" Jack barked as his mother shot him a smirk over her shoulder. "No getting sloshed before cake!"

"Jack?" Daniel appeared in front of him, cradling a large, rectangular gift in his arms. "Wha's 'shlossed'?"

Jack cleared his throat and hoped his voice was approaching normal. "Nothing, sport. What've you got there?"

"It's from Grammie'n'Gramp! Lookit how big it is, Jack!"

"Yeah, that's impressive, all right. Let's stick it with the rest of the presents, okay? You can open them after a little while." He picked Daniel up and kissed his temple. "Happy birthday, sport. Whaddaya think?"

Entirely solemn, Daniel took Jack's face between his hands and leaned his own in close. "I think...'stime for cake."

Jack swung him up onto his shoulders. "You heard the man, folks--everyone out on the deck; it's cake time!"

"Outside?" Ferretti yelped. "Why not the kitchen, Jack?"

"Uuuuhhh..." Jack pointed around the room, pretending to count people. "I think we outnumber the maximum capacity of my kitchen by about fifty thousand. Move it, Major."

=====

Jack stared at the cake and the faces only slightly illuminated around the table by the seven candles atop it. Seated on the chair Jack himself was leaning against the back of, Daniel thrummed with excitement, energy rippling through the slim little frame as he grinned around at everyone singing 'Happy Birthday' to him.

Seven candles--six for his age, and 'one to grow on', General Hammond had announced. It was about thirty less than there were supposed to be. Daniel was supposed to have fought tooth and nail against any party in his honour, not help and hint at ways to make it better. He was supposed to delight in the intellectual gifts--oh, Daniel loved 'When Dinosaurs Walked the Earth' and 'Nile: River of Gods' from the Discovery Channel, but those only received cursory once-overs compared to the open-mouthed delight with which he received Miles' gift of a road hockey pack--stick, ball and puck.

It wasn't how Jack had thought they'd be spending Daniel's birthday this year...but at the moment he couldn't think of a more fitting way to spend it--nor any way he'd rather spend it. And looking down to find Daniel's head tipped back, beaming face already smothered in icing and the cheers for him succeeding in blowing out the candles dying down, Jack knew he was right.

The End

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Irish
'a chuisle mo chro�' -- my dear treasure
'Conas at� t�?'-- How are you?
'T� m� go maith' -- I am well/I am good
'mo chro�' -- My heart