This story is dedicated to all those on the Danielites list.
Left alone in Dr Frasier’s office, Jack took a squint at the folder in front of him. Daniel Melbourn Jackson. So that was the secret Daniel was hiding! He grinned in glee. Daniel had made such a fuss about his middle name that it had become a contest between them to find it out.
Then he frowned at the next bit of information in the file. DOB 9/7/65. That meant Daniel’s birthday was tomorrow! Storing that bit of information in his head along with the other, Jack turned and smiled at Dr Frasier as she walked back in.
"Well it’s nice to see you looking more cheerful," she said, puzzled, as she handed him two aspirin and a glass of water.
"Oh yeah, much better, Doc," Jack answered merrily.
***
Daniel frowned, puzzled. His friends had been acting strange all day. First Sam had hurried past pretending not to hear his call, then Jack had told him Dr Frasier wanted him. When he had got to the infirmary, she had denied all knowledge of having sent a message, and then Teal’c of all people had asked him for a summary of Egyptian mythology! Shaking his head at the vagaries of the people around him, he headed once again for his office.
***
"Surprise!" Daniel jumped in astonishment. His office was strewn with streamers and balloons, and a big banner over the blackboard read "Happy Birthday." Daniel looked around him in amazement. "Whose birthday is it?" he asked in genuine surprise.
"Yours, idiot." Jack thumped him affectionately on the arm. He and Sam were standing holding glasses of lemonade, while Teal’c held a balloon in his hand, turning it around in fascination.
"But – how did you know?" Daniel asked.
"I peeked in your file," answered Jack. "Drink?"
Daniel nodded.
Jack gave him a glass, then held out a parcel wrapped in gaily-coloured paper. "Have a present," he said gruffly.
"You shouldn’t have," said Daniel, "but thank you anyway. I don’t know what to say, you guys."
"Just open the present, then," said Jack.
Daniel tore at the paper, then looked up at Jack. "A baseball and bat?" he said doubtfully. Jack nodded. "Is that okay?"
"I don’t do baseball."
"I remember," replied Jack with a grin.
Daniel grinned back suddenly. "I always wondered if you did remember," he confessed.
Sam moved closer. "Remember what?" she asked, curious.
"The first time we met," Jack replied absently, looking at Daniel.
At the scientist’s nod, Jack started to tell the tale. "It all goes back," he said slowly, "to the time I worked at a kids’ camp during the summer vacation. It was a camp that specialised in sport, and when we got to meet the kids, I took a group off to play baseball, and one kid just looked at me and said…
<<"I don’t do baseball."
"I beg your pardon?" O’Neill stared down at the boy in front of him, expecting to see a mutinous or sulky look. Instead his gaze was met evenly by a small boy with blue eyes, masked behind round, metal-rimmed glasses.
"I said, I don’t do baseball," the boy repeated.
"Oh, you mean football’s more your game, right?"
The boy shook his head. "I don’t like any sport."
"Oh, for crying out loud! Why are you here then?"
The boy looked at his feet, and shrugged. "It was my foster father’s idea, not mine."
O’Neill could not deal with this. He turned to the other boys in the group. "You wanna play baseball, right?" he appealed to them.
"Yeah!" they chorused as one.
O’Neill looked them up and down, then picked two boys as Captains. One, Kent, was the natural leader of the group, tall, slightly plump for his age, and with a shock of black hair. He started to pick his team first, leaving Rogers, the second Captain, with second choice. There was an odd number of boys, so at the end Kent found himself forced to pick the kid who didn’t want to play. "Do I have to have Jackson?" he complained to O’Neill.
"Oh come on, don’t be nasty." O’Neill attempted to jolly the boys along, but failed to remove the scowl on Kent’s face.
Kent’s team was chosen to bat first, so the teams moved to take up their places. Jackson, O’Neill noticed, sat down on the nearest bench, pulled a book out of his pocket and began to read.
Within minutes, it was Jackson’s turn to bat. He put down his book carefully on the bench, still open at the page he had reached, then stepped forward to the diamond, picked up his bat and held it as if it were a snake.
"Strike one!"
"Strike two!"
"Come on Jackson, you’re not even trying," jeered one of the boys.
Jackson ignored him and hoisted his bat more firmly.
"Strike three!" cried the bowler gleefully. Jackson dropped the bat, walked back to the bench and picked up his book.
***
"Out!" cried the fielding team.
"All right, all change," ordered O’Neill.
Kent organised his team. "Jackson, you get out on right field," he said finally, not hiding his scowl.
Jackson walked slowly into position. For the first ten minutes or so he stood gazing into space, looking like he would sink into a hole if the ball dared come anywhere near him. Then suddenly a strong hit sent the ball flying his way. To O’Neill’s surprise Jackson started running, as if making a real attempt to catch the ball, then appeared to trip and fall.
"Are you okay, Jackson?" he asked, running over to help the boy up. Jackson pulled himself to his feet, then winced.
"Come and sit on the bench."
The other boys continued their game in spite of the events out in right field, and Kent looked visibly delighted at the loss of what he apparently considered his greatest handicap.
"Well, there doesn’t seem a lot – " began O’Neill as he examined Jackson’s left ankle. Then as he caught sight of the pleading look in the younger boy’s eyes he changed his mind. "I suggest you sit out the rest of the game."
Jackson nodded gratefully, picked up his book and found his page. O’Neill watched him and shook his head. "That boy will never make a team player," he thought to himself.
***
The next day Jackson was early in to breakfast, and sat with a book propped up in front of him. O’Neill took his tray over to Jackson’s table. "How’s it going?" he asked conversationally. Jackson shrugged and moved his book. "Are you going to join in today?" O’Neill asked. Jackson shook his head, not looking up.
"Mind if I give you some advice?" Taking silence for assent, he went on," At least try to get on with the other boys. You’d enjoy your time at camp much more if you made some friends."
Jackson looked up at him. "I don’t know how to," he admitted.
"You don’t know…"
He shook his head. "I was never at a regular school. I travelled a lot with my parents."
"Oh." Jack was taken aback by this. "Well, just try and talk to them, for a start."
"What about?"
"Oh, I don’t know. What interests them. What interests you." He stood up as Kent and his friends came in. "Try it," he whispered with a reassuring smile as he changed tables to make room for them.
"Hey, Jackson, nose in a book again? What’re you reading?" asked Rogers. Daniel shrugged, then looked over at O’Neill, and back at the others. Reluctantly he showed them the cover of his book.
"It’s a book on Egyptian history," he explained. Then, warming to his subject, he went on: "It’s about Isis and Osiris. See, Osiris was King of Egypt – "
"Hey, Jackson, is it true your Dad’s an ex-professional baseball player?" interrupted Kent.
"He’s my foster father," corrected Daniel automatically.
"So what happened to your real parents then?"
"They died." Daniel did not elaborate.
"Hey," cried Kent, nudging his mates. "That’s why he’s reading about Egypt – he’s looking for his Mummy. His Mummy, geddit?" The boys all roared with laughter, and encouraged, Kent walked around stiffly with his arms outstretched.
Jackson picked up his book, left his half-finished breakfast and walked away slowly, but O’Neill was sure he saw the boy’s eyes glistening with tears. He walked over to reprimand Kent and his gang, but the damage was done, and many times during the day O’Neill caught a glimpse of boys walking around with their arms out, or muttering "has he found his mummy yet?" He was never quick enough to catch them in the act, however, and since Jackson spent most of the day as far away from the others as he could manage, O’Neill found himself devoting a lot of thought to organising activities which kept Kent and Rogers as far away from Jackson as possible.
That evening the boys had free time, and O’Neill was supervising some boys out in boats on the lake. He glanced over at one point to see Jackson sitting on the grass, once again reading a book. He shook his head sadly, remembering boys like that from his own times at camp. "They always ended up leaving early," he thought, "not always on their feet either."
His attention was taken by shouting and screaming from the direction of the cabins.
"Help! Fire! Help!" Rogers tore into view, screaming and waving his arms. "Help me! There’s a fire! Kent - !"
O’Neill raced across the grass towards the cabin which was used as a dormitory. The door stood wide open, and through the crowd that had gathered O’Neill could see a sheet of flames. From somewhere behind all the flames and smoke he could hear screaming.
"The back!" he thought frantically, and pushed past the crowd of gawking boys, only to find he was not the first. Jackson was already there, grabbing a rock and throwing it through the window at the back of the building. "Help me in!" he appealed to O’Neill. The latter hesitated.
"I’m smaller, you won’t fit," Jackson pointed out, and O’Neill nodded curtly. "Be careful," he cried, and help Jackson up to the window. The smaller boy clambered inside, grabbed Kent, who by this time was unconscious from the smoke, and dragged him over to the window. O’Neill helped him haul the boy over the sill, then grabbed Jackson and hauled him out. "You okay?"
Jackson nodded, but O’Neill could see blood running down his arm. "Your shoulder!"
Jackson looked at it. "I cut it on the glass," he said absently, then fell to his knees, coughing, choking and sobbing all at the same time.
"I was so scared," he cried. "I was so scared!"
"Yeah, but you still did it," O’Neill soothed, rubbing his back. Maybe this kid would make a team player, after all. He’d certainly have him around in an emergency. "You did great, Jackson," he reassured him. "And when you’re well maybe you’ll let me give you a baseball lesson."
"I’d like that," Daniel mumbled.
By now the other leaders had organised boys into a bucket line and almost extinguished the flames in the cabin, and an ambulance pulled up as O’Neill went to check on Kent, who was being dealt with by the camp first-aider.
O’Neill shook his head as the paramedic shut the door of the ambulance. "I thought he wouldn’t leave here on his own two feet," he thought ruefully, "But I never imagined it would be as a hero.">>
O’Neill came back to the present, to see Daniel looking at him with amusement in his eyes. "And I thought you’d forgotten," the scientist murmured.
Jack grinned. "Oh, I never forgot, you don’t forget something like that. I just didn’t associate the kid with you. Not until I noticed the scar on your shoulder."
Daniel nodded, then hefted the baseball bat experimentally in his hand.
"I thought we could get back to that baseball lesson I promised you," explained Jack. "At the very least, you now have something to defend yourself against Maybourne with."
"Don’t tempt me," smirked Daniel.
Teal’c stepped forward, a large parcel in his hands. "Here is my gift for you, Daniel Jackson."
"Why thank you Teal’c." Daniel took the present and tore the paper off. Inside was what looked like a small saucepan, made of pottery.
"It is a Chulak drinking vessel. I believe that it will hold a larger amount of this coffee that you drink than your smaller Earth mugs."
"Thank you Teal’c, that was really thoughtful of you," said Daniel, touched.
Now it was Sam’s turn. Daniel unwrapped her present, to reveal a large brass paperweight in the shape of a pyramid.
"I thought it would remind you of – of your home," she explained, when Daniel said nothing.
Daniel looked at her. "Oh, it will, Sam, thank you," he said, obviously deeply affected. "It will remind me of Abydos and my family there, and the hope that I may return some day."
He looked around at his friends and gestured helplessly.
"Thank you all very much. This is the best birthday I’ve had since – since my parents died. My presents will sit on my desk and remind me most of all of what great friends I have and what a great team we all are."
Jack raised his glass of lemonade. "I’ll drink to that, Danny Boy," he said cheerfully.
fin.
