“… And you can ask the airman outside the door for anything else you need.”

Claire nodded absently, her gaze following Daniel’s nervous circuit of the V.I.P. quarters.  His eyes flicked restlessly from bed to door to dresser, avoiding the other two people in the room.

“I better…”

“Daniel.”

He started, then finally met her eyes, tongue tip swiping over his lower lip.

“I… We…”  Abruptly, he squeezed his eyes shut, drawing in a deep, noisy breath.  Then he slumped down to sit on the bed, head dropping into his cupped hands.  “I don’t know what to…”

Clair lowered herself onto the mattress and reached to stroke his bowed shoulder.  She was aware of Mel moving to stand on Daniel’s other side. 

“I know.”  She rubbed soothingly over the tense muscles.  “What do you say to the parents you saw die?  Or to the beloved child?  We… Oh, Danny.”  She could hear the tears catching in her voice.  “Oh, my darling baby…”

He lifted his head to stare at her, then twisted and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her fiercely to him and burying his head in her shoulder.

A long moment later, he lifted his head, meeting her damp eyes with his own.  A sweet smile brightened his face.  “I guess this isn’t so hard after all.”

She laughed and stroked his cheek.  “Oh, no.  Easiest thing in the world.”

She felt Mel sink onto the bed behind her.  Softly, gently, parents and child began repairs on ancient, tattered bridges.

Sam rubbed her eyes, willing the resulting tears to wash away the sand of sleeplessness.  It had been one hell of a long thirty hours.

A gentle touch on her hand brought her head up.  She smiled at Daniel and accepted the tissue he offered.

“So, are we ready?” she asked.

“Considering what we’re trying to do, I think we’re about as ready as we’re going to get.”

She watched his quick fingers sorting and prioritizing the massive pile of informational material they’d gathered. A sudden wave of hopelessness swept through her. They’d been poring over this stuff without a real break since Daniel had returned from a couple of private hours with his other-universe parents. Their documentation was enormous and overwhelming. But the task seemed even more gigantic. They were, after all, trying to convince a pretty traditionally military mind of a giant science fiction story. How could they ever succeed?

The colonel strode into the room, rubbing his hair vigorously.  “Two hours of sleep just isn’t as long as it used to be,” he remarked acidly.  They’d sent him off to rest when his acerbic “help” had become more annoying interference than aid.

He was followed almost immediately by Teal’c and the general, hands full of freshly printed photographs.

“Ah, good.” Daniel reached for the final pages of their efforts. His hands rifled through the stacks of documents, sliding the images into their appropriate positions. 

As he placed the last image into its appropriate location, he sat back.  For a moment, he stared at the mountains of paperwork and stacks of software.  “That’s it. The best we can do.”   He shifted his gaze upward, centering on the colonel. “It’s going to be up to you, Jack, to make General West really take a look.”

“Oh, no problem.” Sarcasm dripped off the words. “I’m sure it’ll be a walk in the park.” He sank into his seat, rubbing his face. “Can I have a coffee I.V. before we do this?”

The general dropped the intercom phone back onto its cradle.  “Doctors Jackson and Carter will be with us momentarily.  Doctor Jackson, Major Carter, would you please summarize for all of us the materials that we are sending with Colonel O’Neill? Hopefully we’ll have time to add any last-minute information any of us suggests.”

Those agile hands were busy again, punching and binding their efforts into some semblance of organization. Sam’s teeth tightened until she thought her jaw might break. They had to listen.  This had to work.

She shook her head sharply. For God’s sake, this wasn’t even their own universe they were talking about. Why should she care so much? What was it Teal’c had said? “Ours is the only reality that counts.”

But of course she did care. Another effect of spending so much time with Daniel. She cared about all of the other cultures they encountered. And these people—well, they were them. Just as had happened the first time she’d met an alternate universe self, she felt a sort of sisterhood with this other Doctor Carter. The “Sam” she might have become, had things in her life worked a bit differently. And she cared a lot about that other Sam’s survival.

She straightened her back as the Jacksons and Doctor Carter entered the room. They’d really done all they could. This would work.  It had to.

“Ladies, Doctor Jackson.” The General’s voice was warm. “Please be seated. We’re nearing our deadline. The last thing any of us wants is for you, Doctor Carter, to experience cascade failure.”

Daniel stood and reached for Claire’s hand, smiling gently. She accepted the silent invitation and slid into the seat next to him, her husband sitting next to her.  Doctor Carter took the seat next to Sam.

The General leaned back, taking a moment to glance around the table. 

“Now, then.  Let’s hear what you’ve put together.”

Daniel leaned forward, pushing the three piles into which he’d sorted their efforts into the center of the table.

“Right. Based on the three priorities I mentioned… when? Yesterday? Anyway, we’ve got four sets of information here.  First…” His long finger tapped on the first of the three stacks. “The first thing we have to do is convince General West that we’re for real. We’re counting on the simple presence of Jack to get our foot in the door, so to speak. None of this is going to do any good if he won’t even listen. This first collection of documents is a very brief history of our encounters with the Goa’uld, beginning with the first Abydos mission. It includes select mission reports, both the original and the… um… modified reports following Jack’s return to the SGC. Whenever possible, we’ve included photographic support. I’ll be honest… we designed this packet for maximum shock value. The point is to convince General West that they are in big trouble right now.”

The colonel reached out to pull one of the bound stacks closer. He flipped open the cover and grimaced at the graphic photograph of an SGC team member taken down by staff fire. “Ugh.”

Daniel’s lips twisted slightly, then settled into a tiny smile. “Exactly. That’s pretty much the point. That’s the stuff we figure you’ll use when you meet with the general. Well, if you meet with the general. Assuming they don’t just lock you up and throw away the door code.”

“Oh, thank you, Daniel. You just so brighten my day.”

Daniel’s smile widened. “Glad to be of service.”

“Oh, yeah. What are friends for, anyway, huh?”

The two men shared a small laugh.

“This…” Daniel’s finger moved to by far the largest mass of information.  “This is a much more detailed coverage of our experiences with the Goa’uld, including what we know about their culture and power hierarchy, detailed descriptions of most of our encounters, descriptions of the offensive and defensive capabilities we’ve seen, what we know about each of the system lords, etc. Some of this isn’t going to be of much use to them, as we’ve already had quite an impact on the Goa’uld population of our own universe, but there’s plenty here for them to learn from.” He grimaced slightly. “I don’t really like providing all of the weapons information we’ve included here—I don’t trust these people not to interpret the information as an opportunity to start missions of acquisition, and I’ve already expressed my reservations about their stability when it comes to extreme weaponry. But we decided that it was imperative to be as forceful as possible when displaying the dangers represented by the Goa’Uld. Oh, we also told them everything we know about Seth. He’s probably on Earth in their universe, just as he was here. We’ve given them the information needed to confirm his presence, and some suggestions about dealing with them.”

“That’s homework, right?” the colonel asked, brows arched.

“Yes. Assuming the general gives you a hearing in the first place, you won’t have time to show him all of this. Leave it with him. Let him have a few nights disrupted by the nightmares this information should prompt, and he should be ready to take this all seriously.”

Sam reached out to pick up the two much smaller sets of bound pages.  “Once he’s convinced of the danger, these hold the help we hope to provide.” She lifted one of the packets. “This is everything we could gather about defense, beginning with the iris system, our GDO program, information about our computerized dialing program, and some Gate addresses for planets that we’ve found to be safe in our universe.  We included information about the personal shields the Goa’ulds use, what little we know about their ships’ shielding and defense mechanisms, anything we could think of that might help them to protect themselves. Oh, and we included the most detailed description we could come up with of the complete uselessness of our weaponry against Apophis’s ships. We all know Kinsey’s view on that sort of thing.

“This…” she held up the final packet. “…is all of the information we felt we could give them about possible help. Locations of trinium deposits—particularly those we’ve found which don’t share their planets with a culture we don’t trust these people to leave in peace. We’ve included what we know about contacting the Tok’ra, and information about races which are non-threatening but unlikely to provide help, like the Tollan and the Nox. We didn’t include the Nox planet address because, frankly, any scenarios we could come up with of any encounters between this kind of SGC and the Nox were pretty distressing. We did give them the address for Cimmeria, along with the instructions to make contact with Thor. And we’ve tried to warn them about what will and won’t impress the Asgaard. To be honest, neither of us really thinks Thor is going to be very impressed by these folks. But the Asgaard are still their best gamble for real help.”

“I’ve also suggested the names of a few archaeologists I think might be willing to think creatively enough to help them.”

She nodded at Daniel, then lowered the packets to the table, pushing them back into the middle.

“The discs contain pretty much the same information in digital form. We can’t really be sure that their computers and ours will be completely compatible, so we’re covering all angles. That’s it.  Does anyone have anything else to suggest? Because Daniel and I are pretty much out of ideas.”

The people sitting around the table exchanged glances, but no one spoke.

Daniel nodded. “All right, then.  General?”

He accepted the metal case from Hammond, and placed the documentation inside, carefully assuring that the materials for Jack’s first encounter with General West were on top, easily accessible. Snapping down the locks, he sat for a moment, his hand rubbing the top of the case. Then he stood, met Colonel O’Neill’s eyes across the table, and held the case out.

The colonel grasped the handle with one hand, and Daniel’s wrist with the other, preventing the younger man from pulling away. His eyes locked on Daniel’s.

“Thanks, Daniel. Both of you. You did a great job.”

“Jack…”

“It’ll work, Daniel. It will.”  He shook the trapped wrist slightly. “It has to work, so it will.”

Daniel heaved a deep breath. “Just… be careful, Jack. No smarting off, right? He’s a general, not a Goa’Uld.”

The colonel grinned at him. “Hey, Dannyboy. I’m the one who knows the difference, remember?” He released Daniel and pulled the case closer. “I’ll be fine, and I’ll be back.”

A worried smile flickered over Daniel’s mouth.

“Promise?”

O’Neill nodded solemnly.  “Promise.”

Claire looked down at the palms of her hands, surprised to see no blood. She’d been grinding her nails against those palms with increasing force as the moment came closer. The moment this miracle ended. The moment she had to leave her beautiful magically resurrected son behind and return to the gray existence of… was it just three days ago?

“Claire?”

She turned to press herself against her husband, fingers clenching in the soft cotton of his shirt.

“I can’t, Mel! How can I leave him?”

“We have to, my darling. What a gift to see what our boy would have grown to be! But we have to let him go.”

“To go back to what? What life? What future? It’s not fair!”

“No, it isn’t,” he murmured.  She felt his cheek against the top of her head, his long arms wrapping around her body. “Not fair, not right. But we don’t have much of a choice, Claire.”

She sighed, rubbing her face against his chest. “I know.” She almost didn’t’ recognize that tiny, little-girl voice as hers. “But it’s still not fair.”

His arms tightened as the door to their quarters opened. Daniel. Coming to take them back to that blessed, cursed mirror.

“Mom? Dad?”

Her chest tightened at the greeting. She’d never expected to be anyone’s ‘mom’ again.”

She turned from Mel’s chest and smiled through her tears.

“Time already?”

“N… not quite. I just wanted to…”  His voice trailed to silence.

Mel reached out to grasp Daniel’s shoulder. “So do we, son. So do we.”

The three of them stood close, watching as the two Sam Carters said their farewells, as Colonel O’Neill organized himself.

They’d said very little in the few minutes of privacy they’d shared. Just relished being close, feeling each others’ living presence.

But time couldn’t be denied; its passage was inexorable.

“All right, pilgrims,” O’Neill drawled. “Time to get this wagon train on the road.”

“Jack, that’s awful.”

“How would you know. I know what you like to watch.”

“I’ve heard John Wayne, Jack. That was awful.”

The colonel ruffled Daniels hair, smiling. “Be good while I’m gone; sleep once in a while.”

Daniel’s eyes rolled. “Jack, you’re hopefully only going to be gone for a few hours. It’s only eleven in the morning.”

O’Neill shrugged and winked, then turned toward the mirror. “C’mon folks. Doctor Carter’s time is running out.”

Claire hesitated, then turned and wrapped her arms around her miracle.  His arms slipped around her, his head dropping onto hers, just as Mel so often held her. 

“I love you,” he whispered. “I’m so glad you found me.”

She nodded, throat choked with emotion. Regretfully, she pulled away, leaving him to share an embrace with Mel. As the two men pulled apart, Mel’s hand rose to run through Daniel’s short hair.

“Daniel… I… We… You know, I’ve got no right.  We didn’t have anything to do with who you turned out to be.  But…” His breath caught. “I am so damned proud of you. Proud that you chose the career you did; proud that you’re so brilliant in that career. And so proud at the courage it took for you to turn away and carve your own path. Dear God, I hope our son would have been the same kind of man.”

Daniel’s head dropped, his cheeks flushing. “I… Th…thank you.  You don’t know…”  He shook his head, then lifted his gaze to meet Mel’s, and gave the older man another quick hug.

“Daniel.” O’Neill’s voice was gentle. “Time’s up, buddy.”

Daniel nodded silently and stepped away, hands sliding reluctantly away from Mel’s shoulders.

“Good bye,” he whispered.

Her own “Good bye” was swallowed by the fizzling sensation of the mirror.

And here they were, back in Mel’s lab. Doctor Carter quickly twisted the remote’s knob to deactivate the mirror.

“Doc,” O’Neill’s voice cut through the racket coming through the lab’s open door. “Thanks. There’s nothing you could have said that would mean more to Daniel. It’s something he worries about. Just… thanks.”

Mel nodded, then moved closer to O’Neill as several soldiers, arms raised, boiled through the doorway from the hall.

O’Neill raised his free hand. “Uh… Peaceful explorer, here?”

Claire felt the irrational urge to shrink down, to just fade into the uncomfortable chair. The angry, derisive shouting made her ears ring, and despair was beginning to swell in her throat.

They’d been hustled into confinement without being given any opportunity to explain anything. The soldiers hadn’t been moved by O’Neill’s name—just by the strange uniform and unknown face.

He’d spent hours standing in front of the security camera in their cell, repeating the same thing over and over—“My name is Colonel Jack O’Neill of the United States Air Force. I need to speak to General West on an urgent matter of world security. My name is Colonel Jack O’Neill…” Over and over.

And finally, just when she’d thought she might strangle the colonel herself, the door in the outer chamber had crashed open, and General West had stalked in, face thunderous.

“Who the hell do you think you are!” he’d demanded. Then gasped as he got a good look at O’Neill’s face.

“Hi, General.  Long time.”

The electric silence had made her skin crawl.  Then the general had gestured sharply toward the door, and the four of them had been escorted to this room. An interrogation room, she figured. It sure lacked the understated elegance and comfort of the SGC’s conference room on the other side of the mirror.

O’Neill had presented his case, complete with shocking photographic support.

Predictably, the general had been outraged, and resisted belief. But O’Neill had persisted, pulling out more and more of those awful photographs, and providing more and more evidence to show that he was really precisely who he said he was.

Claire straightened and leaned forward slightly. Damned if the general’s hard façade wasn’t beginning to crack.

She had to admit that O’Neill had surprised her. He’d seemed so casual and flippant. But here he was professional, eloquent, and immensely persuasive.

The general was actually beginning to listen.

When O’Neill brought out the packets of information regarding defense and possible help from the other side of the Gate… Portal… West sat up and listened closely. 

“General West, whether you believe me or not, you folks are looking at facing off with forces beyond anything you can imagine.  Even if you don’t believe me, it can only improve your situation to take some of these protective measures.”

West was nodding, the flush of outrage gradually fading from his cheeks. “A sound defense can only be our benefit. And…” He eyed the younger man. “…Two days ago, we had an… incident.”

“Aha. Let me guess—Jaffa with big, mean fire sticks. It definitely won’t be the last time.”

West’s posture became, if anything more rigid. “There were two… men. We drove them back.”

“Right. Right back where they came from, with all that nice intel about your little base, here. They’ll be back. And believe me, sir, a few hours reading this information…” O’Neill gestured toward the huge pile of documentation. “… Should convince you to begin taking a bit more care going through that Gate. Portal. Whatever you call it here.”

Wisely, O’Neill allowed silence to fall, dark eyes fixed on the general’s face as the older man paged through the booklets of reports and photographs. The expression on the general’s face gradually darkened as he took in the horrifying and undeniable evidence.

Abruptly, he allowed the booklet he was perusing to fall closed.  “And you, O’Neill. Just what do you want in return for this intelligence.”

O’Neill smiled grimly. “Nothing, general. Well, one thing. Let me go back through that blasted mirror to my version of this world, then nuke the damned thing so you don’t get any more surprising ‘visits’ through it. I’ve got no stake in this place. My world has been dealing with the Goa’Uld for over four years.” He leaned back in his chair. “Oh, and a couple of pieces of really good advice, General. You folks have been going about this all wrong.”

West’s face tightened into a scowl. “Colonel O’Neill…”

“Sir, hear me out. Remember, I’m coming at this from the same place you are. I’m career military, with everything that implies. But, despite the fact that I fought it every inch of the way, the most important thing we did that has enabled us to survive is to include non-military perspectives in our decision-making. Your survival will probably depend upon the friends and allies you make on the worlds on the other side, and right now you’re not set up to make any friends.” His lips quirked into his usual ironic grin. “One of our non-military advisors has changed my life in a thousand ways, almost all of them for the good. And he’s saved that life more times than I can count. More times than I’ve saved his, despite my military expertise, and he’s been going through the Gate with me from the very beginning. All of this…” He dropped his hand onto the booklet of defense suggestions. “…Won’t do you any good if you don’t change the way you’re doing things. Open this project up to the people who can help you the most. Daniel—Our Doctor Jackson—has included some suggestions. Do what he recommends. He’s pretty much always right.” He chuckled softly, obviously sharing some fond thought with himself.

The general’s scowl didn’t fade, but he relaxed slightly in his chair. “I will take your suggestion under advisement, Colonel O’Neill.”

“One more thing. In every way possible, you’ve got to keep Kinsey out of the loop.”

“President Kinsey…!”

“I know, you folks were stupid enough to elect that moron president!” Jack interrupted. “But he hasn’t got a clue how to handle this crap, and he’ll tie your hands every step of the way. Keep him on the outside. And watch out for his little minions, the NID.

Claire smiled slightly at the twitch of the general’s mouth. Apparently that warning struck a nerve.

“I will take all of your suggestions under advisement, Colonel O’Neill. I will certainly take steps to institute the defense measures you suggest. The rest…”

O’Neill nodded. “Best I could have hoped, Sir. And read the rest of this stuff. You should be scared spitless of these bastards—don’t underestimate just how much trouble they can be.  Now… about that mirror?”

West stared at O’Neill for a moment, head tilted slightly. “Agreed. You’re free to return through the… mirror. And we will consider destroying it.”

“Don’t consider, General. Do it. The damned thing’s a hole in your backside. You really don’t need two ways for the bad guys to sneak up on you.”

West favored the colonel with a sour look. “We will consider it, Colonel O’Neill.”

O’Neill rose to his feet, shaking his head ruefully. “Well, like I said, I’ve got no stake in this place, as long as you let me go back through the thing. Once I go, you’re on your own. It’s, very likely, your funeral.”

So here they were once again. Standing beside the mirror, making awkward farewells.

O’Neill shook hands with General West, then with Doctor Carter. Finally, he turned to Claire and Mel.

“Colonel O’Neill… Jack.” Shielded by Jack’s body from the general’s gaze, Mel offered the remote device.  O’Neill’s brows rose, then he nodded, understanding. If he took the remote and they destroyed their mirror on the other side, the mirror on this side would be useless—forever locked on a destination that didn’t exist.  O’Neill gently slid the remote into one of the pockets on his uniform.

This was it. The last connection. Claire was having trouble breathing past the lump in her throat.  She could see him, gazing wistfully through the mirror.

And abruptly, she knew she couldn’t let this happen. Couldn’t abide staying here in this place, living with the forlorn hope that the rigid military minds in control would find some way to protect them. Not when…

Her hand darted out and grabbed O’Neill’s forearm.  “Colonel. I… I have a request.”

O’Neill didn’t look precisely surprised.

“Missus… Doctor Jackson.”

“Please, Jack. You love him, too, right?”

A small flush of embarrassment colored his cheeks.

“Then if you won’t do this for us, do it for him.”

His eyes were dark and inscrutable as he stared into her face.

Gradually, that hard lump eased from her throat.

Fidgeting wasn’t generally a problem Sam had to deal with, but right now she just couldn’t stand still.  The stupid mirror was being completely uninformative. Since they’d watched the colonel and his companions marched off by the M.P.s there had been nothing to see. So she was twitching and unable to settle. And Daniel sat at the work table, head bowed over clenched hands.

Hours.  Way too many hours.

A flicker of movement caught her eye, and her breath sharpened as figures moved into sight. General West, the colonel, the other Sam, and the two Doctors Jackson.

“Daniel!”

His head snapped up, eyes drawn to the figures of his other-world parents, visible in the background on the other side of the mirror.

“It looks…” Sam hopped from foot to food. “I think they’re letting him come back!”

“Do you think they listened to him?”

“They must have. I can’t imagine General West letting him come back if he didn’t believe at least some of what he had to tell him.”

Sure enough, Jack was clearly making his farewells. Sam’s brows rose as she saw Mel Jackson hand the remote off, hidden from the general’s eyes. Interesting.

Finally, the colonel was grinning at them through the mirror, making a silly face as he reached out to touch the surface.

And there he was, living, breathing, returned from a lion’s den if there’d ever been one.

“Sir! Did he listen?”

”Jack! What…! Did he…! Jack!”

The colonel laughed as they spoke in concert, and gently slapped Daniel’s cheek.

“He listened. Sort of. I have hopes for him, though I think it’s going to take that library you sent to really convince him. But they’ll start on the defensive stuff like the iris for sure.”

“Will they make it, do you think?” Daniel asked wistfully.

“Don’t know. The general hedged on destroying the mirror.”

“Thus the sleight of hand with the remote?”

“Got it in one, Carter.” He pulled the control out of his pocket and handed it to her, watching as she deactivated the mirror. Then he turned to examine his favorite civilian consultant, staring for a moment at Daniel’s mournful face.

“Hey, buddy. Never say I never gave you anything,” he said gently, moving aside as the mirror flared once again.

Daniel’s breath caught as Mel and Claire materialized in the room.

“Jack?”

“No reason for them to stay, and no reason they can’t live here,” O’Neill stated prosaically. “Pretty good reason for them to be on this side.”

For a moment, Daniel stared at the faces of the older Jacksons. Then he turned to the colonel, his own face a battle between puzzlement and desperate hope.

O’Neill grinned and winked, and the puzzlement vanished, leaving a joyful smile lighting Daniel’s face.

“Yes!” he shouted, launching himself into the arms of his parents.

Sam shared a triumphant grin with her commanding officer.

“Not that I think this is a bad thing, sir, but you get to explain it to the general.”

“Lookin’ forward to it, Carter. Hell, he adopted Daniel a long time ago. He’s not going to be hard to convince. And now…” his grin vanished, replaced by a threatening scowl. “Now you blow up that goddamned mirror!”