Work Text:
Groaning softly, Daniel carefully cracked his eyes open.
“Oh, good,” said Jack, barely glancing round. “You're not dead.”
“Not yet,” croaked Daniel, shifting on his lumpy bed. He seemed to be lying on a pile of burlap sacks, covered with a blanket of burlap, all of which scratched his exposed skin – adding to the aches blooming all over his body.
He inhaled slowly, urging his eyes to focus, and gazed around the room. They were in a small shack, possibly some storage shed judging by the sacks and the crates, lit by his torch set on a barrel. The window was haphazardly boarded up, the planks not quite aligned, and Jack was poking the tip of his gun into one of the gaps.
“What happened?” groaned Daniel, stretching slightly, testing his muscles – discovering they all ached. “The last thing I remember is an Unas charging out of the fog.”
“You had a small collision with his entire body,” Jack said, deliberately casual, though there was an edge to his voice that Daniel recognised as concern. “And then a bigger collision with the ground.”
“Right. Feels like it,” Daniel said slowly, and took another shuddering breath. He scanned the shack again, about to ask about Sam and Teal'c, when he caught a flash of black and white fur slinking between two crates. “Is that a cat?”
“Or a suspiciously feline alien,” Jack said, still staring down the sights of his gun. “I saw it creeping around earlier.”
Daniel tilted his head, watching as the small head poked around the corner again, yellow eyes fixing on him. He blinked slowly, the moment of connection arching between them – then there was a flick of the tail and the cat was gone. He hummed in soft disappointment.
“Don't get any clever ideas,” said Jack, sharp but fond.
If he'd had more energy, Daniel might've insisted all his ideas were clever. But every joint was throbbing, so instead he said, “The only idea I'm considering right now is a nap.”
“Good, that's good,” urged Jack. “Take a nap. Great idea. Recover your strength.”
Daniel closed his eyes, mouth twitching with swallowed arguments. But every muscle in his body ached, so he surrendered to the urge to sleep, and let himself drift off...
As swirling fog and looming shapes danced through Daniel's dreams, those throbbing pains clawed through the veil and dragged him back to consciousness. He groaned as sensation returned, all his joints lighting up with fire.
“Are you going to groan every time you wake up?” said Jack, feigning annoyance, though that undercurrent of concern still flowed.
“Yes,” hissed Daniel, due to the aches more than irritation. “For the foreseeable future.”
“Want me to kiss it better?” asked Jack, still playful – but there was an earnest offer underneath that tease.
“As much as I'd like that,” said Daniel, swallowing a smile, “you should probably keep watching for that Unas.”
“Probably,” repeated Jack, almost mocking. But he turned and blew a kiss to Daniel – the action sarcastic enough not to look ridiculous, sincere enough to make Daniel's heart twinge.
“You old romantic,” Daniel muttered as Jack resumed his post.
“Hey,” grunted Jack, low but fond. “Less of the old, please.”
Daniel smiled, inhaling deep to bolster his aching muscles for another retort, when he caught a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye. Adrenaline briefly flashing, he snapped his head to the side to look – and saw the cat from before, yellow eyes bright, pose cautious as it peeked out from behind a barrel, clearly inspecting him.
He opened his mouth to greet it – but the cat wavered and vanished back into the gloom, so instead he uttered a sigh. Hoping it would reappear, Daniel gazed around the shack, but saw nothing except dusty barrels and sagging sacks. No cat – and no Teal'c, no Sam. “I'm guessing we got separated from the others after the Unas attacked,” he ventured, looking back at Jack.
“Yeah,” said Jack, shoulders tensing as he adjusted his gun's position in the window, then gestured to his walkie-talkie. “And this weird fog or something is playing havoc with our comms. All I get is static.”
Daniel studied his partner's pose; even from behind Jack was radiating concern, that protective leader instinct rippling through his body. “I'm sure they're fine,” Daniel murmured, selecting the most soothing tone he could muster while that pain thrummed inside him. “Sam and Teal'c will be holed up in one of the other buildings.”
“The lack of screaming is a good sign,” said Jack.
“Usually is,” affirmed Daniel, letting that reassurance melt to comfortable humour. He knew Jack could only stand so much sincerity.
As they lapsed into silence, Daniel resumed looking around the shack. Part of him wanted to return to sleep – it must be late night, even early morning now, and he still ached all over – but after that nap he was awake again, and all he had to distract himself was inspecting his surroundings. And, if he was honest, he was worried about that cat. What was it doing here? On their pre-Unas walk through the village, they'd seen no sign of people – no sign that anyone had been here in a while, and it looked like everyone had left in a hurry.
Several minutes passed before the cat reappeared – slinking through the narrow gap between two barrels, stepping out into the wider path that separated the large piles. Quiet and cautious, it padded closer, yellow eyes carefully studying Daniel as it advanced, paused, advanced. Its tuxedo fur didn't have the gloss of a vitamin-balanced diet, but it looked well-groomed, if somewhat small – though it was difficult to tell if it was thin, or merely of petite build. But those eyes were bright and alert, so Daniel reasoned it must be well fed. Maybe it was good at catching mice. Or raiding whatever was in these sacks.
Slowly and deliberately, Daniel turned his head to look away before looking back at the cat. It hesitated, ears flicking this way and that, then took another couple of steps.
Daniel inhaled a deep breath, steeling himself, then carefully leaned sideways, suppressing the urge to wince as he bent down. “Pspspsps,” he murmured, stretching out a hand towards the cat, trying to look as friendly as possible.
“Excuse me?” called Jack, from the over by the window.
Daniel swallowed a snort. “I wasn't talking to you.”
“Oh, yeah,” Jack said, taking one hand off his gun to gesture for a moment. “Obviously you were talking to the crowd of other people in here.”
“I was talking to the cat,” said Daniel, trying not to smile. That cat was still looking at him, taking another hesitant step.
“Of course you were,” sighed Jack, with utter resignation. “You speak a hundred alien languages. Why wouldn't one of them be cat?”
“Cats aren't aliens,” teased Daniel, still holding out his hand. The cat padded across the floor, almost within touching distance.
“Might as well be,” Jack muttered.
Daniel ignored him, heart fluttering as the cat inched closer – stretching its tiny pink nose out to sniff his fingers. He held still for it, aches fading as his world narrowed to that gentle investigation, the moment fragile but treasured.
Whiskers twitching and tail swishing, the cat scuttled back a few paces. But Daniel held still, steadily meeting those yellow eyes, and blinked slowly again.
The cat paused there, studying him, then carefully crept forwards. Daniel didn't move until it bumped its forehead into his fingertips, rubbing lightly against him. Grinning despite the flaring pain, Daniel turned his hand over to gently stroke its head, letting the cat steer most of the movement. Oh, it was so soft.
But he'd hardly begun to enjoy it when the cat tensed, tail flicking, and scampered back a few paces.
“Wait,” Daniel called, chest tightening, wondering if he'd overstepped.
The cat glanced at him, then disappeared among the barrels once more.
“That wasn't my fault,” said Jack.
“For once,” grunted Daniel, disappointed but teasing. His spine clicked in sequence as he settled himself back onto his bed of burlap sacks.
“Maybe it heard a mouse,” suggested Jack, almost kind.
“Maybe,” sighed Daniel. He'd thought he was bonding with the cat, so perhaps –
But his thoughts were sluggish as he tried to replay the meeting, to analyse what he'd done. Daniel rearranged his improvised burlap blanket, shifting under it. The effect of that earlier nap had worn off, the late hour and those insistent aches wearing at him again.
He closed his eyes, frowning slightly. Maybe the cat would come back later. And later would arrive sooner if he slept. And sleep seemed like the most tempting thing right now – he was certainly no use to Jack, besides the occasional quip. Though his partner clearly enjoyed the clash of their words – but he wasn't much good at that either, right now. So maybe he'd better...
Maybe he'd better just...
Just...
When Daniel woke the next time, he felt a weight upon his lap. He blinked his weary eyes open and looked down.
The black-and-white cat was sitting on his lap, firmly loafed, its ears twitching as it stared around the room.
An ache dawned in his chest – more tender than the ones laying siege to the rest of him. Something about the cat's attentive gaze and tense pose reminded him of Jack, still on guard at the window. “Oh,” Daniel said softly.
“Oh?” Jack said suspiciously, glancing back at him.
“There's a cat sitting on me,” Daniel explained.
“Lucky you,” said Jack, with the half-sarcastic tone he used for almost everything.
Daniel ignored him, instead hesitantly reaching out a hand towards the cat. Pain flared in his arm, but the cat's fur was so soft as he gently stroked between its shoulders.
The cat turned to look at him, yellow eyes soft and curious.
“Hello,” Daniel said, hand hovering above it.
The cat's tail flicked slightly, so he reached out again to scratch the top of its head. A quiet rumble began to emanate from the cat, nuzzling into his hand, rubbing that smooth fur into his touch. Despite the aches rippling through his body, Daniel couldn't help the curve that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, you like that?” he murmured.
He kept up the motion, firm but gentle, pressing the scratches where the cat guided him. His arm – his everything – still hurt, but the motion was soothing, and the soft sensation was wonderful. Those yellow eyes drifted half closed as he worked and Daniel had to wonder when someone had last petted it like this. Certainly the Unas wouldn't have been –
That idle image vanished as the cat stretched and began to knead with its paws, alternating one and then the other, claws catching slightly on the burlap each time. Daniel swallowed, pausing for a moment – and the purrs stopped too, so he quickly resumed his attentions, that rumble also resuming and growing louder as he switched to long, smooth strokes.
Kneading, stretching, almost shivering under his touch, the cat arched into his hand – then rolled onto its back to display its furry belly, still purring, still looking at him softly.
Daniel froze. “Is this a trap?”
“Definitely,” said Jack, still staring out the window.
Daniel ignored him. He stretched out a hand towards the cat's belly, hovering there, half tensed and waiting for a strike from the claws. But none came, so he gently plunged his fingers into the silky fur there.
The purrs increased in volume.
A smile twitching at his lips, Daniel stroked through that fur – hesitantly at first, but soon spurred on by that happy rumble. Though uncountable aches throbbed across his body, he couldn't help but be cheered by the sensation of petting that soft fur – and by the trust the cat was showing him, those eyes still half closed as he touched the vulnerable belly. Every rub was a sweet rush upon his fingertips.
“Are you a girl cat or a boy cat?” he asked, trying to inspect its anatomy in the most polite way possible. “Oh, girl cat.”
She purred as he carried on stroking her belly, the soft texture soothing his aching soul.
“Are you all alone, Puss?” Daniel murmured, gazing into those yellow eyes.
Jack sighed, peeling away from the window at last. “You can't call it Puss,” he said, seating himself on a crate next to Daniel.
“What about Kitty? Mouser? Moggy?” said Daniel, letting his tone grow more mocking with each one. “What would you call her?”
“I was thinking Furball,” said Jack, his tone stinging, but his eyes were softer as they studied the cat.
“Molly,” Daniel said, more gently. “She looks like a Molly.”
“She looks like a cat,” said Jack, voice scathing, but he did give her a little scratch behind the ear.
Daniel said nothing, just let a small smile play at his lips, still stroking that soft stomach.
Jack inhaled slowly, gently brushing Daniel's hand as he straightened up. “Fog's finally lifting. Think it might be dawn. If I can get through to Carter and Teal'c, we should make a break for the Stargate.”
Daniel looked up at him, at the barely-concealed concern in those brown eyes, and nodded.
Reaching for his walkie-talkie, Jack pressed the button and began to speak into it. “Carter, Teal'c, come in. Fog's lifting. We should all head to the Stargate, before the Unas can see us. Over.”
Sam's voice crackled through the speaker, interrupted by bursts of static. “We can't – bzzt – sir. Repea– zzp –”
Jack shook the recalcitrant handful of plastic and electronics, and said, each word firm with irritation, “Stargate. Go to the Stargate. We are going home. Through the Stargate.”
Daniel swallowed a grin, still stroking as Molly purred beneath his fingers.
The walkie-talkie bleeped and buzzed. “Understoo– bzzp –”
“Finally,” grunted Jack, but the hard set of his mouth softened slightly as he turned his gaze to Daniel. “You ready to go?”
Daniel nodded. “Come on, Molly,” he groaned, making to sit up. “Let's get out of here.”
“You can't take the cat home,” huffed Jack.
“Why not?” Daniel raised an eyebrow. “SGC regulations are mysteriously silent on the subject of cats.”
“Because,” Jack said, almost pouting. “It must be someone's pet.”
Daniel looked around at the ramshackle storage shed, which looked in better condition than the village they'd walked through. “I don't think there's anyone left.”
Jack glared at him, mouth pressed into a narrow line, though it seemed petulant more than angry. But he made no further arguments, so Daniel wriggled upright, attempting to gently scoop the cat into his arms.
“Sorry, Molly,” he said softly. “I know it's forbidden to move a cat, but you've gotta come with us.”
“You can't carry the cat,” Jack huffed, as Molly allowed herself to be cradled close. “You can barely walk.”
“Then you can carry the cat,” Daniel said, fixing him with an intense look.
“I'm not carrying the cat,” insisted Jack, holding up his hands. “I'll be carrying you.”
Daniel considered the state of his legs, trembling with the weight of his aches, and frowned. “Alright. Let's make a deal. I'll put the cat down. And if she just happens to follow us through the Stargate, then she'll need a new home. And I volunteer.”
Jack stared at him for a few seconds. “Fine.”
Daniel swallowed a smile. “Alright, Molly,” he said, gently stroking over her back before setting her on the ground. “You heard the plan.”
Jack practically rolled his eyes, but he helped Daniel to his feet without fuss, arms strong and steady as he pulled him in close. Daniel inhaled slowly, savouring his solid form, drawing strength from it the way he had from the soft texture of Molly's fur.
“Is the cat following?” Jack asked, as he helped Daniel limp towards the doorway.
Daniel looked back. “Yes, Jack.”
“Damn it,” muttered Jack, but his tone seemed fond more than angry.