AU, Parallel Universe
Angst, Drama, Pre-Slash.
Summary: Episode Tag and Missing Scenes for Season 3’s “Point of View.” (included is a revised image for the Mirror’s controller.)



“Okay, you figure it out and I’ll be back,” Jack said, leaving the storage room.

Daniel jogged his brows as an answer, though Jack had been gone before he could see it.  The physical response was akin to saying, “Yeah, right.”  Jack was just finding a reason to leave.  The mirror spooked the hell out of him.  He hated that feeling almost as much as standing around watching Daniel try to solve a puzzle.  Except it wasn’t a puzzle.  It was the controller for the Quantum Mirror, and it was Daniel’s turn to find Doctor Sam’s universe.  She didn’t have the coordinates so here he was, standing in front of the Mirror, turning a dial knob.


Married.  They’d been married.


Daniel shook his head to clear those thoughts, as if his brain was an Etch-a-Sketch, and focused on the task at hand.  It wasn’t that bad a duty, truth be told.  Even empty cargo rooms had differences that were fascinating.  Physically, to look at, there was nothing special.  But the idea behind the differences was too intriguing to ignore.  Why that box by the far door instead of stacked in front of the Mirror?  Why were there orange caution lines on the floor in one universe and not in his own?

And what was going on in those universes he dialed where there was clearly turmoil going on, either a fire fight or angry yelling.  It wasn’t necessary to figure out the differences in the universes that had Jaffa guards by the Mirror.  Before they could aim and fire, Daniel had shut the mirror off before a blast could reach him and end his life.  He sighed, dismissed his thoughts, and continued.  If the searching process took long enough, he’d get a chair, but for now, he would . . .

He’d dialed.  And there he was.

Jack.  On the other side.

His sudden appearance was startling, and Daniel automatically held his breath before any other thought came to him.  Jack.  Daniel’s eyes flicked down to see him holding a Mirror controller.  Daniel’s eyes widened.

He mouthed a question, enunciating slightly so Jack could read his lips.  “Searching for someone?”

Slow nod.  Jack looked just as stunned as Daniel.

Neither moved their fingers to the dialing knob.

Then Daniel’s eyes flicked down again.  Jack had a gold band on his ring finger.  Unable to help himself, he raised his own left hand and tapped at the ring finget.  “Sara?” he asked.  Jack frowned and shook his head.  Daniel swallowed.  “Sam?”  Jack’s expression of distaste was so comical that Daniel smiled broadly.  “Sorry,” he mouthed.  “Was only curious.”

Jack tapped his ring.  Then aimed two fingers at Daniel.

At first, Daniel didn’t understand.  He’d trained himself not to judge too quickly where Jack was concerned.  He’d misread cues before.

Jack frowned at him.  He pointed again.

Then Daniel let himself register what Jack meant.  He asked, “How?”  Because it made no sense.

“It’s legal here,” Jack signed.

Jack signed.  Go figure.

Daniel signed back.  “Not what I meant.  Thought you were straight.”

“Maybe your guy is,” Jack said.  “Not me.”

He had to double check.  Again, he’d misread cues before.  “So you and I were married?”  Jack gave a nod.  Daniel looked past Jack’s shoulders, looking for his parallel self.  “Where am I?”

Jack’s eyes lost all animation or feeling.  “Dead.”

Daniel was filled with dread.  “Oh, my god, I’m so sorry.”  He swallowed.  “What happened?”  Jack’s eyes were reddening, which only happened when he was crying.  No tears.  Just red.  He and the Jack of his world were the same in that respect.

Jack said, “Radiation poisoning from an accidental bomb detonation on another planet.  It’s called K-e-l-o-w-n-a.”  He paused, then said, “If you come here, you’ll save your own life.”

Daniel was about to argue that his life wasn’t any more important than anyone else’s but something else about Jack caught his attention.  The man was older.  Maybe by three or four years.  More gray in his hair.  There was a slight gauntness in his cheeks.  Daniel knew that it meant that Jack wasn’t eating.  Grief sucked.  He knew all about grief, especially because Sha’re had died just six months earlier.  The pain was fresh, and this alternate Jack looked both weary and wary.

“What?” Daniel signed.

“You’re straight,” Jack signed, his expression a flat resignation.

Daniel opened his mouth, remembered Jack couldn’t hear him, and shook his head as he signed, “Bi.”

Jack seemed to take a breath and stared back at him.  There was calculus in his expression that Daniel was fully familiar with.  Then Jack sat down.  “Think about it,” he sighed.  “Look at the controller.  Memorize the destination number.”

Daniel looked down at the controller’s interface and read the numbers.  He instantly memorized the line of symbols, displayed in Ancient lettering.



When he looked up, Jack was gone.  Startled and horrified, Daniel took an involuntary step toward the mirror.

Think about it.

His mind whirled.  Jack was asking him to come live in his universe.  With him.  Then Daniel’s contrary mind asked, “And do what?”  But then other things began to filter into the forefront of his mind.  Things he’d unconsciously noted.

Jack had been wearing OD greens.  And he had two stars on his collar.  Was he in charge?  What happened to Hammond?

He heard bootsteps and turned the dial slightly before re-activating the controller.  There stood another Sam, but she was a captain.  He mouthed “Sorry,” and moved on.

Jack entered the storage room.  “Okay, you work it out yet?”

“Yes, and no, not found the universe yet.  I could theoretically be standing here for the foreseeable future, trying to find the right universe.”  He handed Jack the controller.  “Just twist this dial.  And the Shut Down is this orange circle.  Just tap.”

“Got it.”  Jack grabbed a folding chair and sat down.  “And you wouldn’t be doing this for the foreseeable future because we only have thirteen hours.”

“Right,” Daniel said.  “I’ll grab something to eat and get back.”  He suddenly couldn’t wait to get out of the storage room and damn near ran out of the room.

“Bring a chair,” Jack called after him.

Daniel’s mind was whirling by the time he reached the elevator and pressed the button.  As he waited, he looked at his watch.  Twenty-four minutes.  That’s how long it had taken for his life to change.  Internally, at any rate.

So, if he decided to leave, he’d do it at the end of the mission—assuming all went well.  All he had to do was write down a pro-con list to be certain he was making the right choice and . . .

Daniel shook his head.  He’d made his decision the moment Jack had asked him to come to him.  To be with him.  Yes, the man was grieving.  And he had to let Jack grieve before attempting to replace his dead husband.  Wasn’t there a rule about that somewhere?

Obviously, it was more complicated than that, but Daniel was tired.  Forlorn.  Losing Sha’re had only tightened the noose around his love for Jack.  A love that would always be unrequited.

At least leaving would be . . . technically easy.  He had a plan in place that would go into effect the moment he was declared dead.  Everything he owned went to Sam, Teal’c, and Jack.  There wasn’t anyone else.  No significant other.

Until now.

And yet, there were some slightly alarming differences between the two universes.  Alternate Jack was 3 or 4 years older than his own world’s Jack.  That made the age gap all the wider and Daniel knew damn well how young he looked.  Still, to be with Jack, to escape into another universe so he could actually be with the person he genuinely loved for over four years?  He would happily take ribbing for a year or two.

He thought of Sha’re.  He’d loved her.  He really had.  But their relationship had been coerced and it had always marred his feelings for her.  The truth was that he’d stayed because of the culture and the many things he’d get to examine and experience.

“Daniel,” both Sams called from the side hallway, interrupting his thoughts.  “Wait up.”

He did.  And he had some serious thinking to do while he nonetheless intended to go through with the plan.




Daniel held the controller and waited while Jack said goodbye to the other Sam.  He kissed her.  It hurt, yet at the same time, he felt so bad for the other Sam.  But when he glanced at his Sam, it hurt even more because he felt for her, too.  She was thoroughly embarrassed, and he understood, though he knew that her reasons weren’t the same as his own.

Then Jack was back in their universe.  He and Daniel and Sam waved goodbye, then the Mirror went blank.

“Wrap that thing up, Daniel,” Jack said gruffly.  “Hammond said we’re shipping it out at . . .”  He looked at his watch.  “In two hours.”  He looked at Sam.  “C’mon, Carter.  We have mission reports to write, and I’m going to do that with pie.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, grinning at Daniel before turning away to follow Jack out of the room.

Daniel sighed.  For a brief second, he wondered why Jack hadn’t included him in this mess hall visit, but then dismissed it as irrelevant.  They were going to end up being together, one day.  He could wish them all the best, but he didn’t want to see it.  He withdrew a pen and his notepad from the left front pocket of his black camos.  He wrote a few lines, then set the pen and pad on the folding chair.

The note read, “I’m going where I belong.  I’m sorry it’s so sudden.  You’re the best people in the world and I’ll love you always.  Most Sincerely Yours, Dr. Daniel Jackson.”

He took a big breath and input the destination.  He touched the orange circle.  The Mirror turned on.  There sat Jack, in a folding chair, forearms on his knees, head down.  He looked tired.  Or defeated.  When he realized someone was in the Mirror, he got to his feet so rapidly that his chair fell back.

Their eyes met.  Daniel gave him a hesitant smile and set the controller next to his pen and pad.  Then he walked to the mirror and touched the device.  Instantly, he was there.  In front of Jack.  He felt suddenly shy.

Jack said, “They’ll see where you went.”

Daniel shook his head.  “It has a cache auto-purge.  And a timer.  I set it for 30 minutes.”  Jack’s mouth twitched and Daniel nodded.  He knew it was going to take him a while to get to know this Jack.  Maybe a week?  But this Jack clearly found his remark funny.  The old Jack wouldn’t have.

Jack’s expression suddenly grew determined and he reached out and pulled Daniel to him.  He wasn’t interested in waiting to get to know him.  Daniel felt panicked, and stupid for feeling that way, as Jack’s arms went around him.

“Wait, shouldn’t you get to know me first because what if you don—”

Their lips met.  Daniel let out a long breath through his nose.  One of relief.  Something in his mind and body had clicked, like a lock opening.  Jack’s lips were warm, dry, and open.  Daniel threw caution to the wind and kissed him back, gripping the man’s shirt as their tongues met and battled, performing that little mock duel that always meant something else.  He inhaled his scent, the natural musk that said “Jack” and the remnants of the soap he’d used in his last shower.  It was easy to deduce, and he’d have fun later verifying.

And once that was done, and everything was in its place, Daniel would relax.  He would finally be home.



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