Gray

Author's Notes: a missing scene from Shades of Gray. Housed at Stargatefan.com.

A knock at the door, tentative at first, then swelling with confidence. Daniel looked up from his book with a frown, studied the door as though he expected the answer to walk through the wall with a Tollan device on its arm.

"Daniel?" Jack's voice was muffled by distance. "You in there?"

Unfolding himself from the couch, Daniel rose and crossed the room to slip the latch. A somewhat ruffled O'Neill blinked at him through the gap.

"I brought beer," he said, holding up the proof with his right hand. "Enough to share."

The quick duck of his head did little to hide Daniel's smile. "I suppose you should come in then," he said, keeping completely serious. Moving aside to let his friend pass, Daniel shut the door and then turned to eye the second bag held in O'Neill's other hand. "That's a lot of beer."

O'Neill gave a sheepish shrug, dropping both bags onto the coffee table. "Yeah, well, I know you're not keen on beer, so . . ." He delved deep into the second bag, and emerged clutching a large styrofoam cup.

"You brought coffee," Daniel finished, again biting down a grin. "I do have a coffee machine, Jack - "

"- which _I_ bought you -"

"- but I appreciate it. Thank you." Taking the coffee in one hand, Daniel gestured at the opposite chair with the other. "Just, ah, you know -"

O'Neill eyed the said chair, partially camoflauged by piles of crumpled papers and open books. "Right." Gathering the debris into an arm he dumped his load onto the floor, then dropped into the empty space.

Sitting back on the couch, Daniel gingerly peeled back the plastic lid to his coffee and watched his friend over the resulting rise of steam. "I thought you'd be at home by now," he began.

O'Neill gestured with his free hand whilst knocking back a beer. "Sleep's overrated."

Daniel raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "So you're just bored?" he questioned. "No ulterior motive?"

O'Neill put on his best hurt look. "I need an ulterior motive?"

He recieved _the look_ in response.

"Okay, so maybe . . ." dropping his head guiltily, "maybe I wanted to apologise."

Daniel suddenly found something of great interest floating in his coffee. "You don't need to explain, Jack. It was just a mission. Besides, you apologised back on the base."

O'Neill nodded slowly. "Yeah - and the three of you got your own back."

"Oh. Yeah." Daniel sipped at his coffee. "You deserved it," he stated, matter-of-factly.

O'Neill tipped his hand slightly, watching the amber liquid slosh against the glass. Was silent for several moments. Eventually: "You know, I'd've liked to tell you. But the Asguard -"

"I know. They like you."

He shrugged, making a pretence at casuality he didn't feel. "Undercover ops are the same no matter who's giving the orders. It's a one person mission only."

"And you've always been so good at obeying orders," Daniel said, dryly.

O'Neill shuffled in his seat. "Okay, so most of what Hammond reeled off at me is true. But I didn't have a choice this time, Daniel."

A sigh. "I know," Daniel admitted. "It was all a cover. We had to act naturally. The house was probably bugged. I _know_ that . . ."

"But . . ." came the prompt.

"But . . ." Daniel's turn to squirm. "You still said those things."

O'Neill gave a heavy sigh, dropping the empty bottle onto the floor and reaching for another. "You know none of that stuff is true," he said, attention held by the task of removing the bottle cap.

"Y-es . . ." Daniel agreed, hesitantly.

"And you bothering to come see me - it meant something. Even if you did pull straws." It seemed to be taking O'Neill an extraordinarily long time to open his beer.

"Well, we thought someone should see you."

"And I appreciate it. Plus, you came even though you knew I'd give you a mouthful, so -"

"I wasn't quite expecting that much," Daniel muttered, burying his words in a gulp of coffee. O'Neill gave him a quick, dark look.

"Yeah. I'm sorry."

Blue eyes closed for a moment, then opened and stared straight into brown. "I understand why you said what you did, Jack. I just don't understand where they came from."

"It was a line of bull," O'Neill reassured him, quickly. "You know we're friends."

"Yes," Daniel affirmed, prompting his friend's shoulders to marginally relax. "But maybe some of what you said was true."

Sitting bolt upright, O'Neill shook his head vehemently. "No way, I mean, all that -"

"Just about me not really knowing you," Daniel finished, before his friend could continue. "I mean, if I know you so well you'd think I would have guessed that something was wrong. Your actions on Tollanna, the theft of their technology, your argument with Hammond . . ."

An attempt at a shrug failed to ease the moment. "I've done those things before. You've seen my record."

"Yes, I have," he agreed. "Some of those acts belong to the Jack O'Neill I met four years ago. Everything since then has had a purpose behind it, and though I might not always agree with your methods, Jack, I can usually understand why you make the decisions you do. But not this time."

"So . . ." O'Neill hesitated, uncertain whether he fully understood the meaning of his friend's words. "You're wondering why you didn't guess?"

"Maybe," came back the soft reply.

"That's what black ops means, Daniel. I do have training in this."

"Still . . ." Daniel's brow furrowed. "What you said -"

"Do we have to keep going over that?" O'Neill demanded. "Look, I was harsh - overly harsh, probably - for exactly this reason. If I'd just fed you some lame excuse you and Carter would have been all over me in a matter of hours."

"So you said all that to make sure -"

"That you got pissed," he admitted. "And sulk."

Daniel frowned even deeper. "I don't sulk."

"No? Okay, maybe not sulk, but there was a reason you weren't there at my little send off in the gate room. Right?"

No reply. Daniel started examining the bottom of his cup, as though he could somehow drain hot coffee from the remaining dregs. Across from him, O'Neill started on his third beer. Silence hung in the air, waiting for one of the two to break.

As always, it was Daniel. He picked at the styrofoam rim with his nails, shedding white flecks onto his sofa and rug. "I didn't think you'd want me there," he admitted, to the cup. "And you're right, I didn't want to be there."

"And your absence was noted," O'Neill told him. "Which just made me feel like crap that little bit more, but I deserved it."

Daniel gave a heavy sigh, dropping the remains of the gift onto the table. "No, you didn't. You're right, Jack. You were doing your job."

"I was, believe it or not, trying to protect you."

He looked up, blinking. "Protect me?"

"You, Sam, Teal'c." O'Neill shrugged. "This whole conspiracy theory goes pretty high up, and judging from what I saw the people involved all have strong ruthless streaks. Even if I could have told you without jeopardising the mission - Maybourne is a kitten compared to the guys he works for. And we still don't know who they are."

"No . . ." Daniel pushed back into the corner of the sofa, wriggling his shoulders into a niche. "Do you think you'll ever find out?"

He shugged. "That's up to Hammond and his superiors. In my opinion, Maybourne is enough of a weasel to try and sell what he knows for a shorter sentence. But I could be wrong, and the trail could turn cold."

"At least you stopped anymore thefts."

"Yeah. To think the Asguard, the Tollan, and the Nox were all pissed at us -" He gave a mock shudder. "Makes me feel like a kid who's been caught smoking."

Daniel smiled. "That's not quite how I'd have put it, but yes, losing the trust of any one of those three races would seriously hamper Earth's chances against the Goa'uld."

"Yup." O'Neill's gaze dropped to his hands. "And all it took was sacrificing the trust of my team."

Daniel bit his lip. "Temporarily."

"Yeah?" He looked up, expression carefully unreadable. "What about you?"

"You never really lost it, Jack." A small smile. "I was angry, and confused, but I'd have come back."

The smile was returned. "Banging on my door until I gave you a straight answer, huh?"

"Probably. Once I'd got over the urge to punch you in the face."

"Oh, well . . ." O'Neill's smile broadened into a grin. "Good job this thing got cleared up then, isn't it?"

"Very." Daniel's turn to return the grin. "Especially because if Sam had drawn the short straw, I'm fairly certain she would have hit you as well. And then I'd have joined in."

"Oh. Group effort?"

"Teamwork."

"Good thing for me that Teal'c wasn't the one on my doorstep then." O'Neill massaged his jaw and mimed an exaggerated wince. "I'd be knocked into next Tuesday."

Daniel stifled a laugh behind his hand, the movement morphing into a huge yawn. "Sorry -"

O'Neill opened his palms in a gesture of surrender. "No, I can take a hint. I'll -"

"Drive?" Daniel suggested. "I don't think so. You can crash here."

A warm feeling settled into O'Neill's stomach, one he'd been sorely missing. A feeling he had gone out actively seeking, and was very pleased to find again. "Sure?"

"Yup." Daniel pulled himself up from the sofa and started clearing it of debris. Added, over his shoulder, "if you don't mind the couch."

He failed to see his friend's wide smile. "I've slept on far worse."

Daniel's glance fell on the empty coffee cup. "Thanks, Jack," he said, softly.

"For the coffee?"

"For explaining."

Jack shrugged. "I owed you that much." Paused, watching his friend disappear into the opposite room to emerge with pillows and a duvet. Daniel stopped in the doorway, his arms loaded up, blinking owlishly.

"Jack?"

"Thanks for listening to me," he finished.

"I owed you that much," Daniel answered simply, unloading the bedding onto the couch. Looked at the makeshift bed critically. "Are you sure you'll be okay on there?"

A nod. "It's great, thanks." O'Neill dropped onto the opposite end of the couch and started arranging the cushions. Daniel watched him for a moment, then took a step towards his own room.

"Goodnight, Jack."

"'Night, Daniel." A hesitation, then: "We're okay now, right?"

Daniel smiled, flipping the light switch on his way out and descending the room into semi-darkness. "We're okay."

"Good."

"Night Jack. Thanks for the coffee."

"Hmmph." A hidden smile. "You're welcome."

End