Title: Dealing With Daniel
Author: Wonderland
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em, wish I did, you know who does, yadda, yadda, yadda
Summary: Mitchell just has one question for Jack O’Neill.
Season/Spoiler info: The Quest, I & II, The Shroud.
“Do you…?” Cameron Mitchell swallowed
and started again. “Do you have any idea what he did back there?” He wondered
if he were still back on the Odyssey, feeling a brief tug of the nothingness of
space beneath his feet instead of Sam’s lush backyard grass.
“Scared the shit out of you?” Jack
O’Neill ventured, tipping up yet another beer.
“He…he walked into a goddamned wall of
fire. And then he…he stuck his head-deliberately, let me be perfectly
clear-into that…”
“Head sucking thing?”
“He knew, he knew what it would to do him!
I mean, he knew exactly what it did to you!” He looked over at O’Neill, “how
did you deal with …that…for so many years?”
“Oh, don’t think he didn’t do the same
thing to me, to us. I saw him jump in front of a staff weapon, almost fall over
a cliff trying to prevent a suicide. And ask Teal’c to tell you about him
wandering around unarmed with a bunch of Unas’ on the warpath. But there’s one
thing I can guarantee you and that is that he will not stop. He’s gonna keep on
causing you to lose sleep,” O’Neill flicked a finger at Mitchell’s hair. “And
don’t be surprised if that starts losing color some time soon.”
“But how do you make him stop?”
Mitchell winced, afraid there was more than a bit of a whine in his voice.
O’Neill frowned at him. “Did you listen
to a word I said to you when I briefed you about SG-1? About how Daniel on a
mission has the attention span of a toddler on a sugar rush? About how you will
not change him? And shouldn’t even try?”
Mitchell recalled the conversation, and
he remembered that he really didn’t pay all that much attention because he was
more interested in his own place on the team as a whole and not the only
civilian member of said team. “But…”
“You might talk Dr. Jackson into behaving
himself. However, Daniel is gonna do what Daniel damn well wants to. What I
finally know, what it took me so damned long to figure out, is that we need
this Daniel. We need him sticking his neck out all over the galaxy, for
everyone and every thing he meets; it’s the one thing that shows the aliens
we’re as good as our words, that we’ll do what we say we’ll do. All you guys can do is follow him around and
try to keep him from getting killed or beaten up or…”
“Kidnapped by the bad guys?” Mitchell
inquired softly, pretending not to notice that O’Neill’s hand shook slightly as
he killed his beer, reached into the cooler for another. Mitchell muttered to
himself. “Dammit, he’s gonna drive me nuts.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of
company.” O’Neill tapped his beer to Mitchell’s. “Son, if I couldn’t change
him, you ain’t got a hope in hell. My best advice? Strap in tight and hang on
for the ride.”
Mitchell stood, sucking on his beer and
trying not to think about how many years he had to pull before retirement. A
shout of outrage drew his attention and he turned in time to see O’Neill
handily flip Jackson, beer and all, landing with a knee in his back, his arm
pinned behind him and both beers all over everyone. Carter fussed, wiping her
shirt. Teal’c remained silent, pretending not to notice his wet clothing. Vala
danced around, camera at the ready. O’Neill kept Jackson pinned to the ground,
obviously trying to extract some kind of a promise which, judging by the frowns
and adamant head shakes the general was receiving, he had yet to elicit.
What the hell, Mitchell thought. He
grabbed a new beer and walked over to join in the fun.