Disclaimer Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. 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.

Daniel tiredly trudged through the halls of the SGC, fighting not to limp as his barely healed incision protested its treatment of the last couple of days. He had a funny idea that a round trip to California was not on Janet's list of approved activities.

Right now he was sore, mentally exhausted, and in dire need of a bath. And the worst part of it all, he was stuck here on base until they debriefed, in about six hours. Which meant that going home was out of the question. Jack, Sam and Teal'c had already headed to the commissary to get something to eat, their need for hot food overriding their exhaustion. Daniel was in no mood for food, his appetite having yet to return after his surgery.

And since he couldn't go home to take a bath, he'd simply grab one here and then crash for a few hours. He walked into the locker room, absently running his fingers through his hair. He crossed the room to his locker, unbuttoning the heavy outer shirt as he went. He checked the shirt and pants pockets, tossing the meager contents onto the bench. The small handful of coins rattled and a couple of them rolled onto the floor.

Muttering a few choice curses, he eased himself down to his knees and searched for the money. Stretching out his hand to retrieve a quarter he paused as a memory washed over him. Jack sprawled on the floor, his eyes wide with fear. 'Daniel, please move your ass before I get eaten alive by the goddamned bugs!'

That's what he remembered most. Jack had been afraid. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen fear in Jack O'Neill's eyes in the last four years. That was what made him give the order. If Jack was afraid enough to beg, it had to be bad.

Thank God for Thor. If he hadn't come when he did…Daniel shook his head, banishing the thought. It hadn't happened that way. Jack and Teal'c were safe and alive and so was Sam. That's what mattered. Getting up, he sat back down, tossing the change into his locker. He bent over, struggling slightly with the bootlaces. Who came up with the idea of twenty odd grommets anyway? Kicking them off, he pulled off his socks, tossing them on the floor beside his fatigue shirt. He was going to have a lot of laundry considering it'd been nearly two weeks since he'd done it.

Laundry had been on his 'to do' list right before he'd gotten sick. In fact, there was still a rather large pile of soiled clothes lying in the middle of his bed. Jack had once teased him about owning two dozen pairs of underwear. His argument had been how many pairs of BVD's could he wear at once. His friend shut up the second Daniel told him that what it really meant was that he could go nearly a month between laundry loads. Which was a good thing, considering that in recent years there'd been more than once when he would not been able to get home for days or weeks at a time.

He carefully pulled his T-shirt over his head, deliberately moving slowly. That was one habit he'd picked up in the last couple of weeks, moving slowly. He knew he was lucky that they'd caught his appendix when they did. He'd been just a few hours away from shipping out when he'd started feeling so sick. The 'could have's' were scary, maybe because he'd had so much time to think about it when he'd been lying in that bed. He'd been just a few hours away from being millions of light years from help. Sam was a good medic but…there was no way he'd have survived nine days off world.

Maybe what made it worse this time was that his own body had almost killed him. It hadn't been a staff weapon or alien virus; there wasn't anything he could blame but himself, literally.

He stood up and slid off his pants and briefs, his fingers straying over the red ridge of the incision. Janet had promised him that in a few years it'd barely be visible. It was odd; someone had actually had their hands INSIDE his body. It was a weird concept, knowing that someone had touched him in a place he couldn't even touch himself, they'd seen a part of his body that he'd never see. It was…almost like a violation. He knew they'd only done it to save his life and he certainly had NO problem with that at all but…it was still weird.

Sort of like the first time Sam had explained what truly happened to their bodies every time they went through the gate. They were dematerialized. The gate somehow tore them apart atom by atom then put them back together on the other end.

How'd it keep them straight? All the trips they'd made and the gate had never given him Sam's hair or Teal'c's tattoo. The whole thing was utterly mind-boggling. Now if the Ancients had really been doing things right the gate could have just…fixed his appendix then he'd never have gotten sick and could have went with the others instead of staying behind.

He'd felt so…lonely in the infirmary. It wasn't just having to be there, but knowing that they were somewhere in orbit, risking their lives and he couldn't do a thing to help.
It wasn't exactly the first time he'd not gone with them and he knew that they could all take care of themselves but…the other times he'd not gone because he had something important to do, like when they'd accidentally dialed up the black hole. He'd been off on a dig with SG-6. He hadn't even known anything was wrong until they couldn't dial Earth for two weeks, and even then they'd been so busy trying to find a solution, he really hadn't had time to think about what was going on.

But this time he'd had too much time to think. From the minute he'd pried it out of Janet he'd been nearly overwhelmed by a feeling of utter helplessness.

He was lucky that General Hammond was such an understanding man. He knew he had been pushing things by staying in the control room and he also knew that the man had meant it when he'd promised to keep Daniel apprised but he just couldn't leave. If he couldn't be with them, he could at least be as near them as possible.

It was the same reason he'd went to California with Jack and Teal'c. He was not going to be left behind this time.

He reached for his towel, frowning as his hand encountered an empty hook. He knew it'd been there before he left. A wadded up shape caught his eye and he reached down, picking his towel up from the bottom of his locker. Maybe it'd fallen? That thought was almost immediately dismissed as an all too familiar odor ticked his nostrils, making him sneeze. Mildew.

His towel hadn't fallen; someone had used it then tossed it into the bottom of his locker.
Disgusted, he tossed the towel in with the rest of his dirty clothes and reached for his shaving towel. It was just a quarter the size of his usual towel but it was certainly better than nothing.

Next he reached for his shower gel and scrubby, frowning as he found a mostly empty bottle and a snagged scrubby. He sighed and rolled his eyes. Someone had been 'borrowing' his stuff again.

He held up the mostly empty bottle. The fluorescent lights glinted through the viscous turquoise gel. Or more likely, several someones. He knew this bottle had been brand new just a few days ago. Both it and the scrubby were a get-well gift from Janet. Something for him to look forward to, she'd said as Nurse Atkins had headed his way, the infamous basin and sponge in her hands.

It had to be Jack. The colonel was one of the worst mooches he'd ever seen. Making a mental note to give Jack hell, Daniel padded into the shower room. There was still enough gel for him to take his bath.

And it was a bath he'd been dreaming about for the past two weeks. Janet had given him permission to shower a few days ago but not to bathe, citing the risks of infection. Normally he had no problem with showers, but right now he was jet lagged. And nothing helped his jet lag like a nice relaxing bath.

He reached the tub and bent over, ready to turn on the tap. He paused and bent over further to get a closer look. "Gross," he muttered at the sight of several thousand little hairs coating the bottom of the tub.

Sam. She'd shaved her legs again and not rinsed down the tub. For a second he contemplated doing it himself, then he caught sight of the scum. She'd used bubbles too. But she didn't have any bubble bath on the base…He looked at the mostly empty bottle in his hand and sighed again. Back in the gateroom, right before she'd left with Thor, he'd stood right beside her and sweared he smelled the ocean. So Jack hadn't been the only moocher.

Feeling more than a little repulsed by the hairy tub, he abandoned the idea of a bath. The tub needed to be scrubbed and while he was usually willing to give anything a try, he drew the line at scrubbing any bathtub but his own.

A shower would be fine.

He crossed to the shower stalls and carefully hung up his towel on the provided hook. Setting the gel and scrubby on the ledge, he turned on the water, quickly adjusting it as hot as he could stand.

He stepped under the spray, turning his face into it. He groaned softly as the hot water streamed down his throat, chest and legs. Turning around, he let the spray hit him right between the shoulder blades, feeling it relax some of the tension there. It was a knot he'd felt building the second they lost contact with Jack and Teal'c.

He knew what he'd seen, but for a few minutes he'd been afraid that he'd imagined it.
He didn't completely believe it until Jack, Sam and Teal'c had appeared in a flash of light. They'd gotten all the bugs. Thor had seen to that. Everything had turned out ok, no thanks to him. He hadn't felt like so much of a fifth wheel for a long time.

They'd all gotten along just fine without him. They'd saved the world, then themselves, survived off world for over a week, then Sam had run off and saved a planet single-handedly, while Jack and Teal'c had killed mama bug and saved Earth…again. Twice in two weeks they'd saved Earth, and he hadn't lifted a finger.

Fighting a sudden wave of depression, he reached for his scrubby and squirted the last of his gel onto the dark blue netting. He rubbed the scrubby between his hands, working up a nice lather. Yeah, they'd gotten along without him, but it was because they'd had to, not that they wanted to. They'd had to adapt to the situation. And his friends certainly were adaptable. You had to be, to do what they did.

In just three years, Teal'c had adapted to life on Earth. Sam to having an alien's memories and abilities. Jack had adapted, not only to the loss of his family, but also to what they did. Mister 'I'll believe it when I see it' had certainly seen enough in the last few years to give his skepticism a good run for its money.

Daniel scrubbed his arms as he ruminated, moving the scrubby from his hands up over his biceps, across his chest and down the other arm. His friends weren't the only ones who'd adapted over the last few years; he'd changed too.

He no longer felt like the odd man out on base. He knew General Hammond had a lot to do with that in the beginning. The man had made it abundantly clear that civilians were to be treated with the same respect as the military personnel.

Over the last few years, he'd picked up enough of the terminology and behaviors to fit in, at least well enough to pass a cursory inspection. Fatigues no longer felt uncomfortable to him. In fact, if he ever went on another civilian dig, he was bringing fatigues. They were more comfortable and durable than some of the civilian stuff he'd worn.

He had changed physically too, he acknowledged, as he bent over to scrub his legs. His calf muscles were firm and well defined, as were his thighs. Years of walking and hiking on alien worlds had certainly added to his physique.

He was probably in better physical shape now than he had been in years. He rubbed the scrubby over his stomach and chest, his fingers encountering only smooth, firm flesh.
He hadn't only changed physically, but mentally as well. He's picked up new skills, not the least of which was the ability to read goa'uld, but also an understanding of strategy and the military mindset.

There were times when he certainly didn't agree with it, but he could understand it. And understanding it sometimes gave him the edge into finding a way around it. That understanding had also deepened his friendship with the rest of his team.

He had a better idea of how torn Teal'c had been for decades, having to do a duty he hated because he had no choice. Or how hard it was for Sam to set aside her desire to learn something when her duty as an Air Force officer came first.

He could appreciate the juggling act Jack had to do everyday. The man had to keep them in line, while allowing them to do their jobs. Keep them safe while not micro-managing them…and all the while he had to keep his standing orders and mission objectives in view. How Jack managed to keep all those balls in the air without dropping any was almost beyond Daniel's comprehension.

Finished scrubbing, he rinsed out the netting, hanging it on the wall to dry. He stood back under the spray and let it rinse the soap off his body, watching idly as the bubbles swirled around the drain.

With the soap, he let the water wash away all the doubts and uncertainties of the past couple of weeks. He was ok. His friends were ok. They hadn't died a horrible death careening through the atmosphere or drowned, trapped in the wreckage of the Biliskner. They'd survived, pulling another SG-1 miracle out of their hats.

Rinsed clean, he turned off the water, reaching for his towel. He dried off as best he could as he walked, the small towel pretty much inadequate for the task. He stepped into the locker room, distractedly drying his hair. He was glad he'd gotten his hair cut short a year ago. There was a definite convenience to not having to deal with long hair that took hours to dry.

"There you are." He looked up to see Janet standing just inside the door. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she had a mischievous look on her face. "Everybody's looking for you," she said.

He saw her eyes drop and he realized that the only item he had vaguely resembling clothing was nowhere near where it needed to be. In a flash, he dragged the wet towel from his head and held it in front of him, silently cursing whoever had left his towel wadded up in the bottom of his locker.

"Janet? What?" He could feel heat flooding his face. It was stupid, he knew. She'd certainly seen him naked before, although it was usually when he was unconscious or in too much pain to mind.

"Everyone's looking for you," she repeated, crossing to his locker and picking up a clean pair of briefs. "General Hammond decided that the debriefing could wait until tomorrow, so Colonel O'Neill, Sam, Teal'c and the general are all going out to dinner at O'Malleys, courtesy of Uncle Sam." She handed him the briefs and pointedly turned her back so he could slip them on.

"That's nice of the general," he said, gratefully putting on the briefs and walking to his locker. "What are they looking for me for?" He pulled out a pair of fatigue pants and sat down to put them on.

Janet pulled them out of his hands and traded them for a pair of khakis he also had in his locker. "So we can go. I'm invited too," she replied to his questioning look.

"I see you found him," Jack said, walking into the room trailed by Sam and Teal'c.

"I told you, Colonel. Daniel always takes a shower when he's jet lagged," Sam said, pulling an armful of clothes out of her locker. "If I had the time, I might do the same. Two galaxies and three planets in one day and my internal clock is all out of whack. Janet, we can save time if we change in your office," she suggested.

"That's a good idea," Janet responded, shooting Daniel an ornery grin. "Although the scenery here would certainly be entertaining."

Sam rolled her eyes and laughed. "I don't know, Janet. It's like being a security guard at the Lourve. If you look at Mona Lisa every day, eventually it's just a picture on the wall."

"Hey!" Jack protested.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Janet agreed, ignoring the colonel. "We'll meet you guys topside." The two women left, leaving the guys alone.

Daniel put on his pants and pulled a denim shirt out of his locker. He slid his loafers onto hie feet, then stood up, reaching for his wallet and keys. "What made the general change his mind?" he asked as Jack and Teal'c finished changing.

"Huh?" Jack asked, pulling his shirt on over his head.

"I thought the general was in a hurry to debrief," Daniel reminded, wiping his glasses off on his handkerchief and sliding them onto his face.

"General Hammond only desired a timely rendition of recent events in response to pressure from his superiors," Teal'c relayed pulling a ball cap from his locker and putting it on his head. "That pressure is now alleviated."

"How?"

"Seems once he beamed us down, Thor told the President we needed some time off," Jack said.

"He did what?"

"He popped his little gray butt smack dab in the middle of the Oval Office and told the President we needed some downtime," Jack said, smiling broadly. "You ready?" he asked, sliding on his jacket.

The three of them made their way to the surface, joining up with the general, Sam and Janet, also in casual clothes. They piled into a large SUV with Jack driving and the general riding shotgun. Sam and Teal'c sat in the middle seat leaving the back bench seat to Daniel and Janet. He listened to Sam trying to describe the taste of something Thor had given her to eat as the scenery sped by.

"You ok?" Janet asked quietly.

"What?" Daniel turned to face her.

"You've been quiet today. Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm fine I just…"

She smiled. "You feel left out," she said. "They went off and had an adventure without you."

"How do you know?" he asked, surprised that she'd pegged his feelings so exactly.

"It's what I feel every time you go through that gate," she said. "Usually I'm busy enough the I can avoid thinking about it, but it's always in the back of my mind. And then you guys come back and…you talk about it, but no story you tell will ever measure up to actually being there, being a part of it all."

"How do you deal with it?" he asked. "With feeling left out and…not needed."

"You are needed," she said, laying her hand on his arm. "Just maybe not in the same way as before, so you adapt. You find new ways of being necessary. But even then…as much as Colonel O'Neill hates needles or as sick as Sam is of tests, they still trust me. And they still trust you. I know that even if my services aren't required on a daily basis, I'm still a part of the team."

"Yeah," he said dejectedly.

"You know, one day, one of them might get hurt badly enough not to be able to qualify for field duty. Even if that doesn't happen, eventually, the colonel's going to retire, so will the general. Sam…she's going to get her own command some day. Teal'c…he's only got a few more years left before we'll have to find him a new symbiote or he'll die. And you," she looked him in the eyes. "You know all you have to do is ask and the general would give you your own archaeological team, or at least make you the lead archaeological consultant."

"I know but…I don't want to leave SG-1. I like things the way they are. I don't want them to change."

"Neither do they." She nodded towards the other occupants of the car. "But…it's going to happen, eventually. The best thing you can do is enjoy it as long as you can."

"It made that stuff on the prison planet taste good," Sam proclaimed loudly

"What did you do, Major Carter?" Teal'c asked.

"What?"

"How did you react?"

"Oh…well…I…spit it out," Sam said, her face reddening.

"That doesn't sound like a very polite thing to do Carter," Jack said, pulling the SUV into a parking space.

"Maybe not, sir. But it was either that or hurl all over Thor's ship," she said, getting out of the vehicle.

"I remember when I was first stationed in Korea. I tried Kimchee," Hammond said.

"How was it, sir?" Jack asked, walking around the car.

"Fifty years later and I still won't touch cabbage," the man said leading the way into the restaurant. "How about you, Doctor Jackson? You must have eaten some delicacies over the years."

"General?"

"Daniel's eaten all sorts of stuff in the name of galactic peace," Jack teased. "And most of it tastes like chicken."

"At least what I've eaten hasn't turned me into a grouchy old man," he teased back trying to keep a straight face as the rest of the group sniggered.

"I was not grouchy," Jack protested as the six people fell into step with each other.

"Aah, yes, you were, sir," Sam said.

"Major Carter is correct. Your attitude was most…fragile."

"General?" Jack whined.

"Jack, you were a grump," Hammond said opening the door so the rest could proceed him into the restaurant. Daniel walked along, letting the familiar camaraderie and friendship ease his troubled mind. None of them were the same people they'd been when they'd first met. Some of the changes were for the better, some not. But throughout it all, one thing had remained constant. They'd all adapted to each other, each changing to accommodate another's strengths or weaknesses. And they'd continue to do so, no matter how one of them changed.

~Fin~

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