Work Text:
Disclose This
Daniel’s hands were shaking so badly that he couldn’t tie his own tie and had to finally admit defeat, letting me take the slip of silk. “Relax, Daniel,” I knotted the tie. ”We’ve covered all our bases. Teal’c is off-world and you know Carter has made sure Cassie and Nyan are both protected.”
“Is she sure?” Daniel rose to peer anxiously in the mirror.
“Yes,” I reassured him. “According to the records, there were no survivors on Hanka. Their paperwork will hold up because we’ll know if someone is poking around. We haven’t left anything to chance, Daniel.”
*
I was livid; actually, I was beyond livid. “How could this have happened? How in the hell did a reporter get into a gated community?” I didn’t even care that I was shouting.
“General O’Neill, we are investigating,” Major Pearson replied. “We know from the angle of the photographs which house was used.” He shook his head as I interrupted him. ”I’m not going to tell you which house, General. I’m not. I won’t let you go over there and beat someone to death.”
“How do you plan to stop me?” I angrily paced the kitchen.
“I’ve got MPs covering every entrance to this house. You will not get out of here. My advice is for you to stay here with Dr. Jackson and let us handle this. “
“And stay away from the doors and windows?” I growled as I watched the swarm of uniforms milling around my back yard. Our back yard, the garden where Daniel had been unknowingly photographed by a tabloid scumbag.
Daniel, relaxing, reading, on the phone, playing with BJ, completely unaware he was being watched. The pictures had been splashed all over the news, the internet. Intrusive, hateful pictures that had driven Daniel to close the blinds, draw every curtain in the house, withdraw into a world of reading and translating and staying away from everyone.
Including me. He was physically there, in the house, in our bedroom but Daniel’s psyche had checked out, gone somewhere he could feel safe and secure.
I had considered whisking him away to the SGC. If we could have gotten him out of DC, past the reporters encamped around the entrance to the neighborhood. I even seriously contemplated asking to have Daniel beamed out, onto the hovering Daedalus.
But Daniel refused to go, refused to leave the house, refused to talk to anyone about anything.
*
“General O’Neill,” Marilyn poked her head into my Pentagon office. “Major Pearson would like a moment.”
I snapped my pen down. “Oh, please. I’d love to have several moments with Pearson.” He saluted as Marilyn closed the door behind him. “I hope you have some good news, Major.”
“General, we’ve identified the home owner who allowed the photographer into her home. She is currently being detained…” he shakes his head as I start to interrupt. ”Sir, I will not give you her name. Eventually, you’ll get your hands on the paperwork and then you’ll know but I am not letting you endanger yourself or Dr. Jackson by approaching her. That is not going to happen.”
I sigh silently; Pearson is only doing his job, doing the right thing. “Charges?”
“At the very least, she committed treason, sir. She knew you and Dr. Jackson were connected to a highly classified program and when she was approached by the reporter, she agreed to allow him in to her house and granted access to your yard via an upstairs window.”
“How much? How much did they pay her?” It better be a helluva lot because this is going to cost her.
“Half a million, sir.” He withdraws a folder and hands it to me. “The Home Owner’s Association has filed a lawsuit on behalf of all the residents for violating their privacy, endangering their lives and the lives of their children. They are filing a request to have a lien placed on her property and evicting her from the neighborhood.”
I glance at the papers and toss them. ”It’s not enough.”
“Sir, if we, the Pentagon, file charges, it may look like we’re trying to strong-arm her and violate privacy…”
“What the hell about our privacy?” I surge angrily to my feet.
“It does count, sir, I assure you. I believe the Home Owner’s Association can bring a valid case, forcing her to vacate the premises and sell the house.”
"I’m building a 25-foot fence in my backyard.” I fling myself back into my chair. “Daniel won’t go near the door and there’s another house whose yard backs right up to ours…”
“Retired Naval admiral, sir. I won’t repeat what he told the investigators about your neighbor’s actions but I don’t believe he would be guilty of letting someone in to take pictures. All the association members have signed the petition asking for her eviction from the development. Every single home-owner, sir,” he emphasizes.
“Is this the best we can do?” I hate to admit defeat.
“I believe so, sir.” He extracts another folder, laying it on my desk. ”This is a formal apology letter from the association, you and Dr. Jackson might want to read it.” He salutes and lets himself out.
*
“Daniel?” I snag a beer and follow a scampering BJ through the house. He’s right where I expect him: the den, at his paper-covered desk. ”Daniel?” He finally looks up. At least that look of wariness has slowly faded; he just looks sad now.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.” He lets me kiss him before dropping his head again.
I swing his chair around, hunker in front of him. ”Please don’t do that. Don’t shut me out.” He opens his mouth but I put a finger over his lips. “And don’t lie to me. Don’t say you’re fine, that it’s okay, that you’re handling it.”
“Jack….” The doorbell chimes and he flinches.
“Stay here, I’ll take care of it.” I step out into the hall, waiting until I’m out of his eyesight to double check the gun I’ve started carrying. I peer through the side window but don’t recognize the guy but I have seen that dog before.
Cautiously, I open the door. Him, I don’t know, but I know the dog frolicking at the end of the leash. Kelly, a gorgeous Irish setter, who seems to think she owns the neighborhood. ”General O’Neill? Carl Jacobs, I live across the street. My wife sent you over a basket. Just some stuff she baked. She…well, we both wanted you to know that we hate what’s happened to you guys. Don’t judge all of us by one person.” He thrusts the basket into my hands. “We’re good folks, General. Just give us a chance.” He shuffles back down the front walk, struggling to control the lively dog.
“Huh.” I carry the basket into the den.
“Who was at the door?” Daniel doesn’t even pretend not to be anxious.
“One of the neighbors sent a care package. Come on, let’s take it to the kitchen and see what we’ve got.”
*
I pour him a glass of wine and grab a beer while he investigates. “I think this is real home-baked bread.” Daniel marvels as he unwraps a big round loaf, sniffing it. “I didn’t know anyone did that anymore.”
He pulls out a tin of cookies and two jars of jelly with handwritten labels. Blackberry and cherry. Looks like Daniel’s not the only one who scours the farmers market for fresh fruit. I snag a plate and some utensils while Daniel grabs the bread knife and starts slicing.
“I don’t want to leave this house, Jack.” Daniel announces suddenly.
I stare at him. “Like, ever?”
“No,” he shakes his head. “I don’t want to move, I don’t want to give this up.” He waves his hand around our kitchen. ”I love this house. It’s home, our home.” He emphasizes the ‘our’. “It’s the first place we didn’t have to be General O’Neill and Dr. Jackson; it’s the first place we could be just Jack and Daniel. The real Jack and Daniel. I don’t want to give that up.”
I lean over to kiss a smear of jelly off the corner of his mouth. “I don’t want to leave either. But can you stay here, feel comfortable and safe here?” It’s a question I’ve avoided asking.
He sighs, contemplating the bread in his hand. Finally, he answers, “It helps that she’s not there anymore. That the neighbors feel violated too.” He lifts his hand. ”That they care enough to do something like this.”
“So we stay?” I kind of hold my breath.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think we stay.”
I hide my smile behind the beer bottle. “Yuk.”
“Yuk?”
“Beer and jelly. Not a great combo.”
*
It’s been nearly a month since our neighbor moved out. The house was bought, coincidentally (or maybe not), by one of Paul Davis’ Pentagon buddies who claimed his wife had coveted a house in this division forever. I’ve noticed that the window that overlooks us is now shuttered, which suits me just fine.
I’ve managed to get Daniel out into the yard a few times but it’s obvious he’s still uncomfortable there. I racked my brain trying to figure out a solution until a visiting Teal’c made a simple suggestion: that I change the landscaping out back.
“Perhaps if the yard no longer resembles the place which Daniel Jackson associates with his discomfort, he will regain his peace of mind.”
So the backyard is getting a complete overhaul. I let some Mother Earth-type chick look it over and she promises that I won’t recognize it when she’s done. That’s what I’m afraid of.
*
I arrive home to an empty house. No Daniel, no BJ. I quell the panic and shoot his phone a quick text. He replies immediately. ”BJ. Walk.” I sigh in relief as I grab a glass of iced tea and plant myself on the front porch to wait. I can’t remember the last time he left the house on a non-work related trip.
It’s only a few minutes later that I see two figures approaching with dogs prancing on their leashes. BJ is not quite as animated as Kelly but it’s obvious that both are having a grand old time. Daniel and Mrs. Jacobs turn into our drive. I stand. “Mrs. Jacobs.”
She twinkles light green eyes at me. “General O’Neill.” She pats Daniel’s arm. “Daniel rescued me this afternoon. Kelly caught me talking to the UPS driver and she sneaked out the door when I wasn’t looking. I called and called and she wouldn’t come. Then I remembered how she loves Daniel so I threw myself on his mercy. He brought BJ out and, of course, Kelly came running.” She may be on the north side of sixty but she’s still an outrageous flirt. She flutters long eyelashes at Daniel. “None of the girls in the neighborhood can resist him. Not even the dogs.”
He’s struck speechless so I jump in. “Well, we’re always glad to help. And BJ likes to look over every else’s grass.”
She pats Daniel’s arm again and drags Kelly down the front walk, hips swaying provocatively.
“I have no words.” Daniel whispers.
I lean sideways. ”If she were twenty years younger, I’d have to put you in a cage.”
“Me,” Daniel’s eyebrows shoot upwards. “She was flirting with you.”
I take his hand, tug him forward for a quick kiss before dragging him and BJ into the house. ”I thought I was imagining it!”
“Oh no,” he unsnaps BJ’s leash and hangs it up while shutting the door. “It was ‘General O’Neill’ this and ‘General O’Neill’ that. She went on and on about the potato salad you made for the block party.”
“You made that.” I flop onto the living room couch.
“And you took the credit. So…” He calls back as he sails across the hall to his study.
I smile to myself. God bless Mrs. Jacobs and her subterfuge. She managed to get Daniel out of the house and into the real world again. Maybe I need to send her a care package.