Noting the relaxed countenance and continued silence of his companion, Teal'c carefully reeled in his fishing line. He stepped off the dock and propped the pole against the cabin wall. He now understood Major Carter's continued resistance to joining O'Neill in Minnesota. The cabin certainly was adequate shelter, but it had few amenities. And while he knew Major Carter was more than willing to 'rough it' when the situation warranted, as they had on P4X234, he also knew she enjoyed the creature comforts of hot running water and electricity. Perhaps if O'Neill ever suggested a vacation in a place resembling the planet 'where the beaches go on forever' he would find her more receptive.

Then again, it would take something very enticing to draw her away from her latest project. He was rather dubious about the safety of the motorcycle, but he hoped she would permit him to ride upon it when it was fully operational. He had ridden O'Neill's bicycle during one of the time loops and had enjoyed the experience. A vehicle capable of attaining a greater velocity would be even more pleasurable.

He walked away from the cabin, pausing as he saw the battery-less cellular phone lying discarded in the grass where O'Neill had tossed it in his fit of pique.

He certainly understood the man's desire to be left alone, but he also knew they had responsibilities that could not be shirked. He searched for and found the battery to the device, barely reigning in his frustration as he was again assailed by the incredibly annoying insects Minnesota seemed so full of. They did not seem to plague O'Neill as they had him. Perhaps they were ancient creatures of Goa'uld design, genetically engineered to torment Jaffa.

Replacing the battery and insuring the phone was still operational; he sat it carefully upon the window ledge and made his way away from the lake and towards the trees.

He still did not fully comprehend O'Neill's fascination with Minnesota. For a man who perpetually complained about the continued presence of trees on the planets they visited, he seemed incredibly fond of a place over run by them.

The stand of trees thinned and he soon found himself in a sun dappled clearing. There was a charred skeleton of an ancient tree midway across the grassy meadow, most likely a victim of a lightning strike.

That was one of the things he liked about Earth, the varied weather. The climate of Chulak was far too cold to permit such storms to develop often. There were many days when he made his way to the surface to observe the afternoon thunderstorms that were a part of Colorado's climate. He found the untamed power and majesty of Mother Nature most appealing.

In his quarters more than 20 stories underground, he had at first, been oblivious to changes in the weather. His only clue to what was going on outside was noting the apparel of the arriving personnel. General Hammond wore a long beige overcoat when it rained. Lieutenant Simmons would wear his red down parka when the temperature dropped below 30 degrees Fahrenheit. Doctor Fraiser possessed a pair of shiny black galoshes to protect her feet whenever precipitation of any kind made her normal footwear inappropriate. He made a note to ask Major Carter why many of the females among the Tau'ri wore footwear that appeared rather uncomfortable and impractical. And why none of the male personnel wore what they called high heels. He noticed the act of balancing on the heels forced the calf muscles into prominence. Given the human male's preference for displaying their muscles, he wondered why they did not like to display their legs as the females did.

Teal'c strode across the grass, seated himself on the ground, leaning back against the fallen tree trunk and took off his shoes. He turned his face to the sun, brought up his knees and curled his bare toes into the grass. He smiled and closed his eyes as he remembered the last time he had been barefoot in the grass. It had been before his first Prim'ta, before his father's murder.

During his last summer of innocence.

He relaxed, letting the peace of the meadow flow over him. He really should enter Kel no Reem and heal the itchy mosquito bites. But he did not. Right now he wanted to ignore Junior. Ignore that he was a Jaffa, a victim of centuries of physical manipulation by the Goa'uld. Ignore that he was a warrior, trained in uncounted ways to kill a person. A man capable of planning strategies and tactics that had caused the downfall of countless worlds.

He wanted to pretend he was human.

There were times when he longed to be able to leave the SGC without being accompanied by one of his teammates. He wanted to not always have to wear a hat to conceal his tattoo whenever he was in public. He often wished he understood more of the humans' speech so he did not feel as though they were laughing at his ignorance. Never a talkative person in the first place, in the last few years he had found himself standing silent, content to merely observe to avoid saying something inappropriate. Something funny.

Oh no one ever seemed to laugh cruelly, especially the other members of SG-1, but they still laughed just the same.

At times they seemed to have no idea how difficult it was to fully understand all the nuances of a culture. Perhaps Daniel Jackson did have some idea, but the others did not realize all they took for granted.

He had cursed his difference so many times in the past four years.

Had it not been for him being a Jaffa, he and O'Neill would not have been cast into the labyrinth and hunted by the Unas.

During the outbreak of the Broca Virus, he had faced being sealed in the mountain, the only normal person amongst hundreds of savages.

His dark past had endangered his whole team on Cartago. He still felt he had to be constantly on his guard against those people at Area 51 who saw him more as a test subject than a man. He knew General Hammond would do everything within his power to protect him, but he still felt vulnerable. The aged general would not be in command of the SGC forever. He still had nightmares of waking up strapped to a table, a helpless victim of someone's experiments, like he had been during the invasion of the aliens from P3X118.

His being a Jaffa was why Hathor had left him for dead and unable to aid his friends during their imprisonment.

He had not been able to help them again as they were tortured on Netu…because he had not been permitted to be with them, his very existence endangering them.

He had not been allowed to participate in Anise's experiment with the armbands. Just as he had not been permitted to see Quetzacoatl.

For most people it seemed just being different, just being a Jaffa, was enough to make him less than human.

An automatic enemy. Someone not worthy of trust.

He knew his size intimidated some. It was a simple sense of self-preservation, yet it still hurt when people looked at him with fear in their eyes. When they seemed afraid to talk to him. When they would not sit at the same table as him in the commissary.

It would hurt when a group of new personnel would stop talking when he entered a room because they were talking about him, about 'the alien'.

Little did they know his hearing was far better than theirs was. He heard them whispering amongst themselves, wondering about him, curious yet afraid to ask.

He would watch other people talking and chattering, joking and smiling…and he would feel so alone. Yes he was an alien on this planet. But did they not realize that while he was one being who was alien to them, the whole planet was alien to him. The air smelled wrong, the water tasted different. The gravity was slightly different than Chulak. He recognized none of the food.

When he was outside he still kept waiting for the second sun to rise. At night he found himself looking for the constellations he'd grown up with. Constellations that were no longer there.

When he'd first arrived he'd had nothing but his staff weapon, which he'd surrendered, and his armor. He'd had to depend on the Tau'ri for everything from the clothes on his back to the food he ate. It was pathetic for a First Prime to be dependent on charity.

He did not regret his choices, not many of them anyway. Yet there were times when he wished Earth felt more like home. How he longed for a place to call his own.

A place where he felt safe.

With an impatient sigh he banished the self-pitying thoughts. They accomplished nothing.

He cleared his mind and concentrated on his surroundings. He felt the warmth of the sun bathe his body, sinking into his muscles. He heard the slight breeze rustle the needles and boughs of the trees. Felt it brush across his skin, as soft as a lover's touch, drying the few beads of sweat.

Though they orbited a single sun, Earth was far warmer than Chulak. He did not mind that. When he had been in the court of Apophis, there were times when he'd never thought he'd feel warm again. He had been cold, body and soul, steeled against endless cruelties and atrocities. His feelings and emotions buried so deep inside himself, at times he wondered if he'd ever feel anything again.

A small scratching sound broke the silence. He opened his eyes to see a squirrel digging in the dirt a couple of feet away. A smile creased his face as he watched the small creature dig hole after hole, apparently not finding what he was searching for.

Remembering a similar creature he had seen, he slowly reached into his pants pocket and withdrew a hand full of sunflower seeds, an item O'Neill swore was as much a part of fishing as was his favorite malt beverage.

He softly lobbed a couple of seeds at the animal, noting its quick reflexes as it scampered back a few feet in apparent fear. He held himself still as the squirrel's hunger and curiosity overcame its trepidation and it cautiously picked up and ate the seeds.

A few moments later he lobbed some more seeds at the animal, this time closer. Again it started but did not run far away.

Over the next half-hour or so he tossed more and more seeds at the creature, steadily winning its trust and drawing him nearer. Soon Teal'c extended his hand, the last few seeds in his palm and laid it on the ground beside his leg. He saw the quadruped hesitate, not quite willing to come closer. He focused his gaze on the small reddish brown creature. Its nose and whiskers twitched, its bushy tail switched in the grass as it studied the giant feeding it, the desire for a treat warring with its survival instincts.

Teal'c watched the squirrel take a couple of careful steps forward, its black eyes scanning around, obviously alert for danger.

He forced himself to remain perfectly still as tiny ebony claws gracefully snatched a seed from his palm. He grinned broadly as the squirrel sat back on its haunches and expertly cracked the shell, swiftly gobbling down the white meat inside. He let the shell drop to the grass and moved forward to retrieve another. Teal'c watched the squirrel eat seed after seed, sitting so close to his hand now that the bits of shell fell back onto his palm.

Despite the razor sharp nails the animal possessed, he barely felt them as the animal dug through the shells, trying to find any more seeds.

He saw the creature suddenly stop in its hunt, its ears perking up, the dark eyes alert. With a swish of its bushy tail, the squirrel dug its feet into the ground and scurried off.

Teal'c tensed, wondering what danger had startled the creature, a danger he had not noticed.

"Yo Teal'c." he heard echoing through the trees. So O'Neill had awakened. For a moment he contemplated not answering, a part of him not wanting his solitude breached.

"Here. O'Neill," he answered, realizing the man would not simply go away. He reached down to put his shoes back on. First Primes did not cavort barefoot in the grass. He heard a twig snap and turned to see O'Neill emerge into he clearing. Even from this distance he could see the red color on the man's skin, especially his nose. He was suffering from a serious case of sunburn. An affliction his symbiote protected him from.

"So…got tired of fishing?" Jack asked casually, seating himself beside Teal'c.

"A far more efficient means of catching fish would be to cast a net," he replied, knowing full well it was the activity, or lack thereof, rather than the results O'Neill cherished.

"Aaah…well…"

"Perhaps next time we can supplement fishing with a round of golf?"

"Yeah, I could do eighteen holes," Jack admitted. He knew Teal'c had been bored. Heck, he'd been bored. Somehow his memories of fishing trips with his dad had always been a lot more fun.

The two men fell quiet, the keening cry of a fish eagle the only sound that broke the silence.

After a moment Teal'c got to his feet, tossing away the remains of the seeds.
Jack also jumped to his feet and put a restraining hand on the Jaffa's arm. "Teal'c?" Teal'c turned, a quizzical look on his face. "What you said…in the glider…you saved my neck…again. Thank you," Jack said, holding out his hand.

Teal'c took the proffered hand, clasped O'Neill's forearm and inclined his head. "You would have done the same for me," he replied.

Jack snorted. "You know me and meditation…always fall asleep. Since we won't be eating fish, I know this diner that server a killer chicken fried steak. Whatta you say bro, want some dinner?"

With a last look at the clearing, Teal'c nodded and let the younger man lead the way to the cabin.

Yes Earth may not be the planet of his birth, and much of it still may be alien to him, but he did have family here. Perhaps not a family by blood, but a family nonetheless. And family made it home.

~fin~

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