"You don't like the Scotch?"

Shigeru raised his eyebrows but didn't pick up the glass again.

"You don't have to drink Scotch. I don't have any..." Jack went over to the bar and disappeared behind it. They both knew that there was no sake in the bar, but Jack apparently was digging for it anyway.

Shigeru rocked back and forth, testing the stability of his Air Force-issue boots, feeling the coarseness of the fabric of the trousers as it rubbed against his legs.

He listened to the clink of glass on glass and thought back to the moment in the base when Jack had first caught sight of him. The crinkles that formed in the corners of Jack's eyes, the warm light that was so totally spontaneous, it had to be real. It had made everything it had taken for him to make the trip, worthwhile.

Jack's first response had been that easy little smile. His second response had been to put out his hand, automatically, naturally, and tugged Shigeru's straight tied-back hair.

"Just a ponytail now, huh?" Jack had said, that personal way of his that no one around him could find embarrassing, even if it was out of place.

Then, in Latin, "[I'm sorry, I didn't think --]"

"It's good when you don't think," said Shigeru.

He'd felt proud, unreasonably proud, when Jack's eyes widened, obviously impressed. It was the first moment he'd realized how much he'd wanted to impress Jack, which was good, because he would have been horribly, horribly disappointed if he'd failed.

"Boy, if I had a nickel for every time I heard that..." Yes, Jack was impressed, Shigeru could tell. "I see our ambassadors have brought you a Berlitz course in English."

"I don't know Berlitz. But I know some English." Shigeru's eyes also crinkled and he wished Jack would put out his hand again, and then Shigeru had to laugh at himself for wanting such a simple, immediate reward for his language performance.

"That's good," Jack said, obviously watching Shigeru smile. "I'm funnier in English."

"I don't know funnier," Shigeru told him honestly. "But I am happy to see you. In English or Berlitz or any language."

Which had made Jack look around and realize for the first time that they had an audience, that they weren't just alone. The hallway bustled with people, some of them SFs who were clearly accompanying Shigeru to wherever he'd been going. The SFs watched him blandly. "You have to stay here on base or can you come outside, get a little of the local color?"

Mostly following Jack's sentence, Shigeru shook his head. "I do not know. It is two hours since I arrived." Shigeru looked around pointedly at the various Air Force personnel weaving through the hallways, stepping around himself, Jack, and the SFs assigned to watch him. "And where is Daniel?"

Shigeru had felt rather than heard a drop in the noise around them, a drop in the sound levels, as if a heavy blanket had dropped over them all. But no one said anything, no one stopped, and all Jack said was, "I'll find out if you can leave the base or not. I'll see you later."

Shigeru didn't know what was usually involved in people from another world coming through the Stargate, but he'd gotten the impression that they didn't usually get to wander around Earth under their own recognizance. He had the feeling somehow that it wasn't usual for visitors to get a full physical from the doctor, including tests for various antibodies, then prophylactic shots against diseases he had never heard of, before being allowed out onto the surface of an unsuspecting Earth.

He had that feeling, the same way he had the feeling now that Jack was hiding behind the bar.

He did not like the Scotch. It smelled like dead, rotting earth to him. But he picked up the glass and sipped it again. "This drink is good," he said formally.

He heard the bottles stop clinking. He wondered if Jack would find another reason to stay back there.

"Well, you gotta try a sampling of Earth liquors, don't think that's all we've got, because it isn't."

The young, smooth-faced man had said something similar, when he'd accompanied Shigeru to their dining facility. "Earth has an amazing variety of foods, most of which you will not get to eat here," he'd said, sounding a little regretful. "But," he'd added, in the next second cheerful again, "what we get is mildly interesting. And plentiful."

Shigeru had nodded. "I talked to Daniel Jackson about noodles once," he'd said, thoughtfully regarding the metal pans filled with food. It all smelled revolting. "He did say that Earth's cultures had produced many kinds of noodles."

The man - Jonas, that was his name - perked up his ears. "You knew Daniel Jackson? I wish I had seen the mission file on your world, I thought I had read all Daniel's reports --"

And Shigeru knew, it was easy to figure out, from the sentence, from the "You knew." But he had to ask anyway. "Can I see Daniel Jackson?"

And Jonas' sharp, smooth face had softened a little, but his eyes hadn't darted away, and Shigeru liked him more for the way he said it directly. "I'm sorry, but Dr. Jackson died."

Shigeru had nodded, slowly, as befitted serious news about an important person. "I see."

"I really am sorry, I shouldn't have just come out and said it like that --"

"There is no need." Shigeru placed a large warm hand on the smaller man's arm. "I said I knew him. I did not say I liked him."

Jonas blinked, then blinked again. "I... don't think I would repeat that around the Colonel if I were you."

"Colonel O'Neill. Jack."

"Yes." But Jonas didn't repeat the first name.

"It would not be a surprise to Colonel O'Neill."

"Just the same," and Jonas steered Shigeru toward the food line. "If I were you, I wouldn't say anything about Daniel Jackson around the Colonel at all."

Trying to follow Jonas' suggestion now, Shigeru walked slowly around the room in Jack's house, examining the images. They were not painted nor drawn, but seemed to be captured exactly from life. Shigeru wondered how that technical process worked.

Daniel could probably have explained it to him. Even if he couldn't, he would have tried. Daniel, Shigeru recalled, never hesitated to offer an explanation for what lay before him, even if he didn't have one.

Instead of asking about the images Shigeru pointed at a whiplike contraption and said, "This equipment is for what?"

Jack finally came out from behind the bar, standing closer - but not close - to Shigeru as he said, "It's for catching fish. You catch fish?"

"No." Shigeru eyed the thin pole. "Our fishermen use nets, they catch many fish at once. This looks..." His brain sought for the word.

"The word you want is 'inefficient'," Jack said lightly. "It's not meant to be efficient. It's meant to relax you."

"Can we try it?" said Shigeru, looking over at Jack's profile just as Jack's eyes shifted toward him, and their eyes caught on one another's, producing a moment sufficiently awkward, sufficiently loaded, that Jack decided to down some more Scotch.

Shigeru couldn't decide whether that was good or bad for him. Time was short, and Jack was nervous.

There was no suave way to bring up the subject of Daniel Jackson.

Jonas had given him no answers, when he'd pushed, over the food, for more information. "It's kind of complicated," was all he would say.

The SFs who'd escorted him back to his quarters were blunter, but not much more informative. They'd looked at each other, an odd look Shigeru couldn't read, but "Yeah, Dr. Jackson died," is all one would say before the other said, "Sir, we need to get you to the briefing room in just a few minutes."

The commander had not been more forthcoming. "I'm sorry," said the square man with the bearing of a leader, when Shigeru had tried to take advantage of a few minutes alone with him. "I hate to have to give you this bad news, Ambassador, but Dr. Jackson died from injuries sustained in the line of duty. I'm sure you'll understand that, in our culture, it's customary to respect the privacy of individuals, especially friends we've lost, most especially soldiers who died in the line of duty. You can be proud of him, though."

I don't want to be proud of him, Shigeru thought acidly, a sharp taste in his mouth as he thought of that arrogant, stubborn man who had taken from him all he had wanted for a very long time. I just need to know.

He'd thought Jack might offer something. When Jack had shown up and "sprung him", a phrase that he had not known and still was not sure he understood. Shigeru was sure that there had been much formality and much procedure to the event, but Jack made it feel like they were two boys hiding from school.

Jack had commented on the ugly Air Force clothing they had given him for traveling in, because "We don't get a lot of kimonos out here in this part of the country."

They were walking out of the base into the sunshine. Shigeru was relieved to see it. It had been less than a day but he'd begun to have the oddest sensation that this planet didn't have sunshine, didn't have an outside, that the caves underground was all there was.

It was a relief to come outside even into the setting sun.

The colors of the landscape were muted and somehow dusty, browns and greys that should have been similar to colors at home but weren't. Shigeru was familiar with wild landscapes; outside of the city much of Ishido was still quite similar to what it had been in the time of the false gods. But there colors were a little brighter and the air was a little wetter. Here things seemed a little beaten down and dry.

The sky, however, was the right shade of blue.

What Jack commented on, though, was the Air Force clothes. Of course, said Shigeru, he sees this landscape every day.

"The color is nothing," Shigeru said, waving his hand at himself.

"It's odd. Seeing you in those clothes."

"It's odd seeing you in those clothes."

And it was. The clothes changed Jack's whole shape. He seemed less fluid, less sculptured, in the Earth clothes. Underneath the shapeless tubes of fabric there was still Jack's body, moving with Jack's grace. But the clothes hid it rather than enhanced it.

Shigeru wondered if he was going to have to edit his reports at home very heavily. It would not do to represent the offworlders as barbarians. But he had yet to see something that impressed him with their culture - aside from the Stargate.

"Your people work much on technology," said Shigeru.

"Don't say that till you've seen the inside."

They had stopped by a -- well, it had doors and wheels. It must be a vehicle.

Shigeru was still eyeing it warily when Jack came around to his side, apparently suddenly realizing that Shigeru did not know how to open the door.

"Climb in," said Jack, returning to the other side and doing the same.

Shigeru did so. There was an upholstered bench inside.

When Jack started the vehicle Shigeru's lips had pursed. It was loud. Although - Shigeru twisted in his seat to look at the bed of the truck - presumably it would carry a much larger load than a horse, or even two horses.

"Let's get you strapped in."

There was an awkward moment of tangled arms and hands as Jack reached across Shigeru for a strap with a buckle on it, pulled it across Shigeru's chest. It was twisted, and before Shigeru could right it Jack's fingers were sorting it out and smoothing it down.

The metal buckle clicked.

Shigeru just stared at the strap.

"What?" asked Jack.

"It is nothing." Shigeru looked up, smiled quick.

Do it again, he wanted to say.

But he did not.

The noisy vehicle carried them quickly over the dry brown countryside and Shigeru tried to watch the scenery and watch Jack at the same time. They tried out different sentences about trees, and vehicles, and Shigeru found it unbearably awkward.

They had never had conversation, Shigeru realized, not even at home. But he did not remember this awkwardness. With few words between them they had seemed to communicate well - at least in his mind. Now, with more capability, they said less.

Daniel Jackson had done a lot of talking - a LOT of talking, Shigeru remembered with irritation - but not much translating between them.

So why was his absence now more inhibiting than his presence had seemed to be?

There was no way to figure out how to put Jack at ease. This was Jack's world and Jack's home. Shigeru was having enough trouble figuring out how to put one foot in front of the other without tripping on these heavy shoes. He could not take control of the conversation without more English.

He was singularly unequipped, he thought bitterly to himself as they left the vehicle and entered Jack's home, for this mission.

But he let Jack show him around his house - the "fifty cent tour", another phrase he would have to try to remember to ask his tutor about when he returned. It was surprisingly comfortable and, to Shigeru's eyes, reasonable. There was light, there was space, there were harmonious colors. Jack, at least, seemed to have some understanding of felicitous design, even if the makers of the Stargate base had none.

When Shigeru had imagined being here, he had imagined - well. When he'd daydreamed, he had imagined charming Jack, in English, into returning with him for at least a little while, to his own home. The daydreams had varied from simpler ones that only featured Jack to much more viciously pleasant ones where Jack had discovered the flaws of Daniel Jackson and was eager for Shigeru's much more amenable company or, even better, where the simple appearance of Shigeru swept Jack away from all this and convinced him to try a better life elsewhere.

Those were daydreams. Not plans.

His plans had involved getting to talk to Jack a little more, so that the two of them might be more comfortable around each other. Getting to talk to Jack alone.

Then they usually segued into the daydreams.

But there was no Daniel Jackson there, and somehow, that made more of a barrier to conversation, not less.

Jack was telling him about football, about french fries, and about a long-running series of plays about a family called the Simpsons that were drawn onto a piece of glass in a box in the house, apparently at all houses everywhere all at the same time, and that was about where Shigeru lost track of Jack's description of the Simpsons.

He was talking a lot. But he didn't look at Shigeru.

And that, Shigeru had to admit to himself, didn't really coincide with his own fantasies about Jack's immediate and total romantic about-face.

Shigeru had to smile at himself. Even grown men apparently could have the imagination of very small boys.

"What's funny?" asked Jack, looking at Shigeru's plate. He had moved about the room doing something he described as cooking. That Shigeru had found genuinely interesting and tried to remember the methods of things to tell people at home. But the result had been a grilled piece of beef, a crushed root vegetable dish, and a collection of raw vegetables thrown randomly in a bowl and coated with a combination of oil, vinegar, and spices.

"I did not laugh at my food," Shigeru assured him quickly. The preparations were all shockingly simple. But for a person cooking for himself and a guest, what else could there be? "Do you always cook your food alone?"

"Cook my food myself. Yeah. Well, unless I get pizza or something else takeout. Takeout is where they cook you food somewhere else, then put it in a box so you can buy it and take it home with you and, you know, eat it." Jack looked at his steak. "Should I have bought takeout?"

"No no," Shigeru rushed to say. "This is delicious. And interesting. I only thought about, do you cook every day, do you always cook your food yourself?"

"Most people do. Unless they're lucky enough to have a wife to cook for them."

Shigeru felt the tension, he knew Jack did too. He would not have used the word wife for either Jack or Daniel. But he hadn't been the one to bring up marriage.

"And," Shigeru asked, feeling as if he were walking through a very dangerous forest and needing not to let any twigs snap under his feet, "you did cook for Daniel?"

Jack swallowed the bite of food he was chewing, opened his mouth, closed it again. He licked his lips. Finally he said, "I did cook for Daniel. Sometimes. Sometimes he'd cook for me. We were both - we were both used to cooking for ourselves."

The moment stretched like melted glass and Shigeru waited for it to shatter or burn but Jack added nothing, seemed unable to add. They both knew that the topic was there between them, but Shigeru couldn't tell if Jack was desperate to talk about Daniel or desperate to leave it alone.

Maybe Jack couldn't tell either.

The wall was bigger and the tension had ratcheted up to levels Shigeru couldn't have previously imagined as they finished eating. Jack had gotten less and less inclined to try to explain the mysteries of the Simpsons, asking Shigeru to tell him more about the farm they had not gotten to visit, about Yorokobi and other people they had met, about Shigeru's task at the Stargate command.

Shigeru told him about his announcement at court, the disbelief of many of the courtiers, who had eagerly encouraged the Empress to visit this Stargate so that they could watch Shigeru fail, and managed to reproduce the expressions on their faces when the vast Gate had lit up and strangers in strange clothes speaking a strange language had come through it.

"Then they complained because I had guards at the gate, guards all day every day, because Earth might dial gate, and we needed our own address. If I did not have guards, we would not have made connection. But since I did have guards, I was plotting against the Empress, breaking her authority."

Jack waded his way through Shigeru's lack of the past perfect to put the events in order: Shigeru had kept the gate guarded, established contact when Earth had finally dialed back, and then taken the information to court where the other courtiers had thought him crazy. When he'd proved his story, they tried to make him out a traitor.

"Rotten politicians are the same on every planet," Jack observed, spearing the last bite of steak.

Shigeru nodded solemnly, then broke into a smile.

"So how's your stock now? You going up, or down?"

"I am still, they do not know." Shigeru made a tilting motion with his hand. Balanced on edge, apparently, was the answer.

"Well. We'll have to send you back with some exciting parting gifts, something to make them respect you for venturing off to another world and bringing back treasure." Jack's tone was light as he stood, scraping his chair away from the table, and picked up his plate to take it away. Shigeru's plate too was empty. Strange and plain though the food might be, he'd been hungry.

"You feed me when I am hungry," he said as Jack picked up the plate.

Jack stopped, half-turned, and Shigeru couldn't see his face.

Please, thought Shigeru. Please.

And something about the way Jack stood, frozen, as if unable to decide whether to walk away or turn back, made Shigeru think that Jack, too, was thinking please, please. If he would only say it. If he would only say something.

But Jack kept moving, finally, taking the dishes to a sink across the room.

"Dinner's not over yet," but his voice sounded a little hoarse. "We still have dessert. I've got --" He went to the steel box, opened it, let cold wisps of air loose as he surveyed the inside of it. "Well, hell, I don't know what I've got for dessert."

"What is dessert?" Shigeru had asked quietly, rising from the table and coming to stand next to Jack, leaning against the sink, looking at the side of Jack's face that still wouldn't turn toward him.

"Dessert is --" Jack did look, look and met Shigeru's eyes, which still looked at him just the same way as they had in Ishido, with a look Jack couldn't even pretend to misunderstand.

"Never mind," Jack had muttered, shutting the fridge. "I don't think I've got anything for dessert."

They had retreated.

And now Jack was staring into his glass, contemplating the golden liquid in it.

He didn't know if Jack was as acutely aware of the passing of time as he himself was. He didn't think anyone on any planet had ever been as acutely aware of the passing of time as he himself was. But there was nothing he could do to stop time passing, and even though he cursed himself, silently, repeatedly, he could not decide on what to say to Jack. Shigeru just stood, quietly. Standing, he was good at.

This was Jack's home. He had no authority here.

Jack seemed to realize Shigeru was standing there listening to him breathe, watching him watch the Scotch swirl around the bottom of the glass. He looked up.

Shigeru realized, Jack was aware of time passing too.

"Your eyes," said Jack conversationally, "are just about this color."

Shigeru felt his pulse immediately pounding, in his throat, in his fingertips, but he still just stood still. Words in various languages tumbled through his head and he wasn't sure, oh he wasn't sure, which ones would be right. But he had to do something to chip at the wall, the wall between them, the silent wall, and the wall was Daniel. He had to steer the conversation that way.

So he said, "Does your master allow you to say these things?" he asked lightly, but his eyes remained on Jack, watched Jack swallow.

"Ah." Jack's lips twitched. "You knew he wasn't that."

"He thought he was."

"Aauuuhh..." The sound Jack made was drawn out and noncommittal. He looked like he was trying to deny it. "You're right," he said softly, instead. "In a way. I was his, that was for sure."

Shigeru tried to still the jackrabbit running of his heart. "Was is the past tense," he said, trying to match Jack's light, fake tone.

"You said it too," Jack pointed out.

"Yes."

"So, what did they tell you?"

"Nothing. That he died." Shigeru's voice grew quieter and quieter, the inverse of the noise made in his head by his pounding heart. "I'm sorry, Jack."

"Oh, he didn't die," said Jack with a tilt of his head and a brittleness to his fake light tone. "Bastard left me."

He went back to the bar to get the bottle of Scotch as Shigeru's brow furrowed.

"What do you mean?" Shigeru asked slowly. He ran over and over the sentences in his head. They had been so clear, the people at the base. Died. A simple word, he was sure he had it right. And in dying, he would indeed have left Jack. But Jack said he didn't die.

And Jonas had said it was complicated.

Shigeru had followed Jack to the bar. Instead of pouring another finger of Scotch into the glass Jack had half-filled it.

Sensing he was on fragile ground Shigeru repeated himself anyway. "What do you mean?"

Jack whipped around and fixed him with a pointed look. "I mean. He. Left. Me."

Shigeru was still confused. "I am sure he did not want to go --"

"He LEFT me. He LEFT ME."

Cutting off his own rising voice Jack retreated to the couch, still cradling the Scotch between his splayed knees, staring at the fire he'd built when they'd come in, not looking at Shigeru.

And Shigeru realized that the words repeated in Jack's head constantly, all the time.

"He left you," Shigeru tried to ask.

"He left me. That fucker. That bastard. That no good son of a bitch. That complete asshole."

Shigeru didn't know all the words but he knew cursing when he heard it.

"That motherfucking asswipe," said Jack without heat, staring into the fire.

"I do not know --"

"He left me. He didn't die. Oh, that's what they'll tell you. But he didn't. I saw him. They saw it too, not all of them, some of them, but I'm not crazy, it was real. He turned into this glowy thing, and he left."

Shigeru realized Jonas was right. This was complicated. "He turned into a--"

"It doesn't matter. He had a choice. He left me."

And Shigeru, kneeling by Jack's wideset knees, placed a hand on one of them and said all that Jack wanted to hear. "He was wrong to leave you," said Shigeru in his deep, calm, decisive voice.

As if he were coming out of a trance Jack looked away from the fire, looked at Shigeru instead. He still looked carved out of ancient wood, hard and round at the same time, the planes and curves of his face sharper now with the shadow of black hair all around his head. He had the same wide, tilted eyes, the same sense of certainty he'd had so, so long ago, and Jack realized all his certainty had gone, gone with Daniel, gone what seemed to be thousands of years before.

"Thank you," Jack managed to rasp out. No one had said it. No one would. Of course, no one knew how much there had been between them. Not even Shigeru, but Shigeru knew more than anyone at the base.

That, Jack realized, was why his immediate instinct had been to get Shigeru away from the base. Get him alone. So he could say what he just said.

"He left me," Jack said, just to hear it again.

"He was wrong to leave," Shigeru said again.

And Shigeru was so solid, so certain, that suddenly Jack felt it, felt that he didn't have to pretend, here, that he wasn't broken, that his insides weren't made of crushed glass, that he wasn't a black empty hole of nothing because everything real had gone with Daniel and Daniel had gone away.

Felt as if maybe Shigeru were right.

Realized he'd been wondering if Daniel was right to leave him. Felt so good to hear someone say it was wrong.

"He had to die," Jack said, breathing hard as he felt the crumbling start, the tears gathering, his hands tremble. "He had... he had radiation poisoning, the pain was awful, he was coming apart, literally coming apart right in front of me and there was nothing I could do about it, I couldn't touch him, and nothing I could say would make it right, and there was nothing to say, really. But then we were trying, trying to keep him alive, and instead he became a... something else. He had to. He would've died. But then he decided to go. Told me so. Told me."

And crumbling, the inside wall that had supported Jack all this time fell away and he curled in on himself, curled over his hands, unable to hold himself up, though the glass fell, he heard it break but he couldn't stop to care. "Told me it was time for him to go."

And Jack could see him, just like it was yesterday, perfect, beautiful, his eyes so calm and blue as he'd just asked, quietly, for Jack to make them stop, for Jack to let him go.

As if Jack would never bother to ask him to stay.

It was easier on days when he could hate Daniel.

But it was hard, too hard, to hate Daniel.

Shigeru just left his hand on Jack's leg, feeling the muscle and bone, hard and warm and real, under his fingers but not sure what else to do as Jack struggled to keep from falling apart. "I thought..."

"I did too."

Jack had thought they were in this together. He'd thought Daniel would always come home to him. Knew there might come a day when Daniel couldn't. Never thought there might come a day when Daniel wouldn't.

Jack could never have gone away.

He'd simply loved Daniel too much for that.

And Daniel had not loved him that much back.

"I make myself think about work," Jack told Shigeru, and the way he said "work" made the word sharp and rough. "I think about who's going to shoot at us next. What we have to do to fight back. That's what I think about. All the time. Because if I let myself think about anything else, even Carter and Teal'c and how they feel, I'll kill someone."

Shigeru's lips thinned as he pressed them together. "It is what you do."

"It's what I am."

"No. It is never all you are."

Jack looked over to meet Shigeru's eyes, suddenly noticed that Shigeru was still right there, hadn't moved, one hand on Jack's knee, kneeling on the floor at Jack's side. Here, in his own house, where the memories were usually so painful that Jack felt himself constantly choking, as if he were breathing smoke and his body was trying to reject it.

Shigeru, who had not been afraid to let Jack know he was wanted.

Jack peered at him.

"I've got more gray," said Jack, not taking his eyes away, a vague wave of his hand indicating his hair.

"I did not see it," Shigeru answered honestly.

"You still want to fuck me?" asked Jack. "Is that a word you know?"

Shigeru did not know the word but the intent was clear enough.

He looked at Jack's narrow face, the high cheekbones and dark eyes, the short silvering hair, set atop that long graceful neck.

He hadn't wanted to fuck Jack in the first place. He could have explained that, if anyone had wanted to listen. He hadn't had the time, the opportunity, or the words. He'd wanted to seduce Jack. He'd wanted Jack to love him. He'd wanted someone to count on, someone who'd been at his side in fight, watching his back, in his arms while he slept. Someone trustworthy, without being weak, someone strong without being vicious. He'd just wanted Jack.

"I want you," he said, still not moving, but his eyes watching Jack's face closely. "That is why you brought me here, isn't it?"

"Yes." Jack hadn't hesitated.

"To want you. Right?" Shigeru finally moved his hand, stroking slowly, slowly up Jack's thigh. "Or to show you?"

Jack's eyes were searching Shigeru's face for something. "Kiss me," he ordered, and spread his knees a little wider.

Heart pounding - he knew a test when he heard one - Shigeru slid between Jack's knees, leaned in, bracing a hand on either side of Jack's hips, and kissed him.

Jack didn't hold back, mouth opening immediately to invite Shigeru in, but Shigeru didn't rush. He touched his own open mouth to Jack's once, twice, breathing their mingled breath before opening his own mouth wider to devour Jack, sliding his tongue against Jack's and deep inside his mouth in a way that was hard, demanding, and evocative of what Jack was asking for.

They were new to each other, moving a little, turning a little, twisting a little before they found the perfect fit and Shigeru was stroking all the slick surfaces inside Jack's mouth and finding the nerve endings there that worked and Jack made a noise deep in his throat that told Shigeru all he needed to know.

Jack liked what he was doing.

"Well?" asked Shigeru, breathing a little hard, as he pulled back just an inch. He needed to know if he passed the test, but he didn't know how to ask in English.

In answer Jack lifted both his legs, wrapped them around Shigeru, used them to pull him in tight, his own body sliding closer to the edge of the couch, closer to Shigeru.

Shigeru groaned as he felt himself fitting into Jack's body, all the hardness and strength and warmth anyone could want, groaned again as Jack ground himself against Shigeru, the straight thickness, the sensitive globes in their soft skin, hot shapes against his stomach. Even through their clothes he could feel the searing heat of Jack's skin and he wanted more.

Jack wrapped his arms around Shigeru's shoulders.

"To fuck me," Jack said quietly in between bites on Shigeru's throat that sent hot shivers down his spine, "is to get inside me. You, thrusting your dick," here he squeezed with his legs as if to emphasize the body part in question, "inside my ass. Do you understand that?"

Shigeru's arms trembled, braced on the couch, as he used them to support both his own weight and the weight of Jack's body wrapped around his. "I understand it, yes," he said quietly, low voice vibrating both their bodies. "You want me to have you the way Daniel did not want me to have you."

Jack went still.

"Now is not the time to be bringing up Daniel," Jack muttered into his neck. "In fact, that time would be never again."

Shigeru smiled into Jack's ear, wrapped his arms around Jack and lifted him, whole, so that they were one body, balanced on Shigeru's knees. Jack felt the muscles in Shigeru's shoulders and back bunching and gathering, felt the power in his body, and realized that unlike Daniel, Shigeru was not afraid of being a powerful man.

Jack dropped back onto the couch, balanced there. Shigeru held him close, gripped tight and hard in his arms, while he looked for the words. "Aggh, this English is too difficult. I want you, Jack. Not to take anything from Daniel. Just you."

He squeezed again, so hard Jack thought he felt his ribs creak, and again he was struck by the presence, the actuality of Shigeru. He had a flash, a vision, of Shigeru in his layered silk robes, the green and gray of his garden all around him, and himself right beside him. He could smell Ishido, woodsmoke and rain. He could see not just a different world, but a different life.

"I can't go," Jack murmured, feeling the steel of Shigeru's muscles, a whole new reality.

Shigeru dropped his head forward to cradle it in the curve of Jack's neck. The long sliding muscles of Jack's neck, Jack's shoulder, right there below his mouth. The disappointment for his future was harder, sharper this time.

But the present was also sweeter.

"Then, I will have my one night finally," said Shigeru, and sighed.

Jack's brain flashed back to himself, his voice saying "Ita. Hai. Okay." But promises were a topic his brain shied away from, and he came back to the now, with a fierce determination. He laid his hand against the side of Shigeru's throat, feeling a wild uncertainty as to whether or not he wanted to squeeze. He felt Shigeru's pulse racing, racing faster and faster than itself. "Good. Fuck me. I told you to."

"No."

And just like the first time, a slow wrestling match ensued, both of them shoving relentlessly, fingernails catching on fabric, on skin, as they toppled over on the couch then rolled off, the coffee table shoved unceremoniously aside, scratching the floor, furniture creaking and screeching as they writhed across the floor, fought silently for a controlling position.

But this time Jack pursued with his mouth, licking and biting whatever he could reach, until at one point he had Shigeru nearly pinned to the floor, and he twisted his hips and realized Shigeru was completely hard for him, and Shigeru jumped and groaned as Jack's movement caused a friction that was painfully good.

"You... do... what I say," Jack panted, and rocked his hips again. "I'm the damsel in distress here, my every... wish... is supposed to be... your command."

Shigeru opened his eyes and saw Jack's looking down into his, so very close, and smiled. Jack was looking at him. Only at him. "No," said Shigeru as the corners of his eyes crinkled, and he SHOVED.

Jack's half-laugh was cut off by his unexpected twist and then Jack found himself on the floor, Shigeru above him holding down his wrists, and he didn't even quite realize how he'd gotten there but he was loving the look of Shigeru's smile.

"Fuck me," said Jack again. "I'm getting tired of asking."

"No."

And suddenly Shigeru let him go.

But then his hands were all over Jack and they were helping each other rip off Jack's shirt, the T-shirt underneath, Jack's fingers undoing the fastenings of his pants so Shigeru could strip them off along with the underwear, and then Jack's long body was naked and Shigeru could stare at it all night but he was already too far gone for that.

"Just -"

But Shigeru cut him off, holding up the flat hand that was the universal signal for 'shut up'.

And Shigeru gracefully slid to the floor between Jack's knees, his hands pushing Jack's legs apart, his head briefly resting on one of Jack's thighs, his cheek stroking the hair on his skin, before he slid his hand up the other thigh to wrap it around Jack's very hard, very impatient erection.

And then he levered himself up on an elbow, pushing Jack's legs even farther apart, so he could settle in comfortably as he slid the soft head between his lips.

Jack's hips came up off the floor and his mouth opened but no sound came out. Shigeru just pushed him back down.

No rush, thought Shigeru as he looked up past the whorls of hair on Jack's belly and chest, already wishing he'd spent hours investigating those nipples, that belly button, all the skin in between, to where Jack was gripping his hands behind his own head, bracing it up so he could look down and watch.

Their eyes met and Shigeru was pleased to see that Jack's were only hot, only fogged with lust, only looking at him.

Raising an eyebrow Shigeru kept their eyes locked as he slid Jack's length entirely into his mouth and sucked.

Jack groaned and his eyes tried to flutter closed but he kept them open.

Good, thought Shigeru and still looked at Jack's eyes while he licked his way up, tongue swirling around, only to release Jack from his mouth so that he could lick his way back down, pause to take one of Jack's balls inside.

That made Jack grunt and his stomach muscles twitched, so Shigeru did it again, to the other one.

He wished they shared more of a common language so that Jack would tell him exactly how this felt, exactly what he wanted, exactly whatever no one else had ever done to him so Shigeru could do it.

But they didn't, and he had the feeling that that was not Jack's way.

Before he lost Jack's gaze entirely he reached up to his own hair and pulled out the tie.

As his hair slid forward he brought up his own hand, slid it behind the curtain of hair and let the hair slick over Jack's thigh while his hand rubbed through it.

"Oh Jesus Christ," said Jack, and the sight of Shigeru's hand, cloaked in shining black hair, sliding up his thigh, hit him unexpectedly hard.

Smiling, Shigeru sat up, twisted enough to rip a cushion off the couch, then stretched over Jack's supine, trembling body to place it behind Jack's head, his own hardness behind the strange alien clothes brushing against Jack's chest and twitching to get out. "Watch," he said as he settled Jack's head on the cushion, taking a moment to run his fingers through the silky, oddly short hair on that silver-brown head. Jack turned his head slightly to kiss Shigeru's palm and Shigeru felt again that hard, sharp disappointment. But the pleasure was more, so he sank back into it, sinking back between Jack's legs, determined to half-kill Jack with pleasure.

And Jack watched as Shigeru took him inside his mouth again.

He watched as long as he could, mesmerized by the sight of Shigeru's head moving, his lips pressing and sliding around him, his hands stroking through the hair, around the base of his cock, cradling his balls gently and stroking them while unseen his tongue continued to do unbelievable things. But eventually he gave up the fight against his eyes' desire to close, to give up sight and sink into the delicious world of feeling, only feeling, listening to the slight sounds of wet flesh, lips, tongue, hands, his cock, as Shigeru gently, firmly, and yes, lovingly sucked him into a state he would have called ecstasy if he could remember any words.

Jack heard his own voice, heard his rhythmic moans getting louder and louder, enjoyed them too as if they also came from Shigeru. He tried not to writhe, tried not to thrust, but Shigeru didn't seem to care if Jack lost control; he still held Jack just hard enough to keep him here, where the pleasure was tightening, tightening in, less of a cloud, more of a knife, where he could suck Jack's whole body into his mouth because Jack's whole body had become a taut wire and Jack's moans had melted almost into one and the breath nearly wouldn't come as Jack waited to and waited to...

Shigeru wanted to stay like this for hours more, felt like his muscles could hold him there, wanted to be carved out of stone right here in this position. But he could feel Jack's flesh getting harder, then harder still, hot and stiff underneath the silky skin in his mouth, and he knew it couldn't last.

So he slid his mouth all the way down, closing all the wet muscles in his mouth, in his throat, around Jack, and pulled his orgasm from him.

At the last hard, soft, wet, hot suction Jack arched and felt himself dissolve and clench at the same time, felt light behind his eyelids, felt himself disintegrating, a jerking, spasming mass of flesh riding a long deep moan straight into Shigeru's mouth, down Shigeru's throat, inside the other man who was giving him this.

When he collapsed he was breathing as if he'd been running, felt sweat trickle down his chest, wanted to close his eyes and sink into the delicious aftershocks and let Daniel's arms wrap around him and hold him close while he came down off that incredible high.

Jack's eyes flew open. There was no Daniel. He saw black, long, straight hair trailing up over his body as Shigeru slid up next to him, still fully clothed, his broad hands pulled Jack close, his arms holding Jack while Jack raised a trembling arm to drape it over Shigeru's hard, muscular body that had a different smell.

And then Jack kept his eyes closed and let the tears he couldn't stop leak out of them, soaking into Shigeru's shirt as Shigeru rocked him and held him close.

***

When Jack woke up he was in his own bed, curled up on his side, naked over the covers.

He was cold.

Digging the heels of his hands into his eyes he rolled over.

There was no one else there.

Dammit, thought Jack. Dammit dammit dammit. When did I become that jerk of a guy who fell asleep?

Then he thought of himself, naked, on the floor, shaking, wrapped in Shigeru's arms.

Then he stopped thinking.

Swinging his feet out of the bed he reached for the old sweatpants that were hanging from the closet doorknob, pulled on a similarly ratty sweatshirt that he yanked out of the bottom drawer.

Padding through the house he looked into the darkened rooms, not needing light to see someone who wasn't usually there.

Nothing.

The living room still had the lights on. The broken glass and lake of Scotch was gone. There was a faint light stain on the woodwork where the alcohol had lay for quite some time while he and Shigeru -

In the kitchen there was a carefully piled stack of broken glass, the shards stacked on top of one another inside the ragged-edged base, and his dishtowel smelled of Scotch and sparkled with tiny shards of destroyed crystal.

Jack tossed the towel and the glass in the trash.

Sliding his feet into untied boots Jack threw a jacket over his shirt, grabbed a second one without pausing, and went out the door, leaving it open, so that the breeze blew in, fanning the grey dying embers in the fireplace so that they glowed orange one last time.

He found Shigeru on the roof, standing straight, his shoulders broad and square and forming a starless outline against the sky.

He didn't say anything, just handed Shigeru the jacket, then went to sit on the bench he'd installed against the railing for SG-1 barbecues. A long time ago.

Shigeru examined the jacket, shrugged into it. It was a little snug across the chest and shoulders but it fit.

He looked out again into the trees, listening to them rustle, looking at the distant golden lights of other people's houses.

He said, "It is strange, a small house, no one else here. There are no servants."

"Well, you know, I've got a dishwasher," said Jack, as he hooked one ankle over the other and leaned back.

Shigeru watched the distant lights blink. There was a rushing sound somewhere in the middle distance. It faded in, faded away. Not a stream, then. Something powered; perhaps one of the vehicles, like he had ridden in with Jack to come here.

He said, "This much land should have a large home on it, for many people, all working together, living together. This is very alone."

"Lonely," said Jack. "You mean lonely."

Shigeru inclined his head in thanks but did not turn around. "All my life I lived in a much larger home, I knew that everyone around me must work, like I work, to keep the home. Grow food, buy clothes, stay warm in winter."

"That's not exactly a crappy little motor home you live in," Jack acknowledged.

Shigeru registered only the general agreement. "You work only for you?"

"Well, here everyone pretty much lives in smaller houses. One family to a house. Uh, a small family. Parents and kids. Some folks still live with a bigger family - brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, all that kind of thing. But not, uh..." Jack wasn't sure of the term he wanted. Middle class? Military? "Not me."

"Always?"

"No," said Jack, keeping his tone even. "I had a wife once, and a kid."

Shigeru turned, his black outline shifting, but Jack couldn't really see his face.

He came over and sat on the bench next to Jack, long leg suddenly warm against the outside of Jack's leg and making Jack realize how chilly it was.

Shigeru said, "Even at court, that is work I do so that everyone keeps the house. My family work. I remind the Empress that I exist. Sometimes that is good, sometimes not good. About the slaves..." Shigeru made a face, Jack could just see it out of the corner of his eye. "Sometimes she wants to hear me, sometimes she doesn't. And the others... the court has many... What do you say, animal with no legs," and his hand made an S-shape curling straight out into the dark.

"A snake."

"Yes, they are snake. Hiding, biting if they can."

Jack nodded a little. "Probably a good thing that you're there, then."

"Sometimes I think so. Sometimes I think not."

They sat there for a moment, both of them enjoying the feel of another big solid body right there, warmth seeping out between them, the company of someone who was no threat, only a comfortable presence.

Shigeru hooked one of his ankles over the other, like Jack's.

Jack smiled a little in the dark.

"What is your work?" asked Shigeru. "I never knew."

"Yes you did," said Jack. "Miles," he added, tapping himself in the chest. Me-les. "Remember? I'm a soldier."

"Senshin."

"Sure. Soldier."

"You fight? Or you protect?"

"Fight to protect."

"What do you protect?"

Jack waved a hand expansively. "All the --" He stopped himself from saying United States; it wasn't true. He tapped his toe on the floorboards. "Earth," he said. "The planet."

Shigeru nodded, Jack felt the motion through the shoulders touching.

"And who do you fight?"

This time Jack waved up. "All out there," he said, running his hand along the Milky Way as if he were caressing it. "There are an awful lot of people who just cannot work and play well with others." He considered explaining System Lords, replicators, the NID, decided to give it up. He dropped his hand. "There's always something."

Shigeru nodded again. A hero. Jack was a hero, though he wouldn't say it and Shigeru didn't know the word in English. Just his luck, to fall in love with a hero.

Heroes were never free to do as they pleased.

Even if they pleased.

The silence that settled over them was comfortable, both of them listening to the night breeze, watching clouds backlit with silver moonlight drifting aimlessly across the sky with nowhere to be, the milky light of the stars showing through them.

Eventually the chill wore through Jack's sweatpants, even with the heat Shigeru's body generated.

He could take the cold, but he didn't want to.

Reaching over, Jack took Shigeru's hand.

He stood up and pulled Shigeru up with him, led the other man, silent, unresisting, back down the stairs and into the house, where Jack toed off the open boots.

Through the living room and down the hall, into Jack's room.

He turned on just one of the bedside lamps, pulled the covers far, far back. Swiftly he peeled off the jacket, the sweatshirt, the sweatpants, then he turned back to Shigeru, still standing at the foot of the bed.

He reached for Shigeru's jacket, peeled it off. When he went back to reach for the shirt buttons, Shigeru raised his hands, grasped Jack's.

But Jack just gave him a look.

Shigeru didn't resist as Jack unbuttoned the Air Force issue shirt, peeled it off Shigeru's shoulders, dispensed just as quietly with the T-shirt.

Pulled Shigeru against him, bare chest to bare chest, and kissed his lips.

Shigeru decided not to think. Jack's hands were so clever, his skin was hot, his lips were sure, his kisses were deliberate. They were almost of a height, and Jack did not have to stretch to nibble Shigeru's earlobe, to nuzzle his ear, tracing the pattern of the curves with his tongue, and, when Shigeru's head tipped over, to gently bite his bared throat.

Clearing his suddenly hoarse throat, Shigeru muttered, "It is not necessary to --"

Jack tilted his chin back to give him one more look, eye to eye.

Shigeru went silent.

Jack unbuckled the belt, unfastened the pants, knelt down to untie the boots, fingers tracing through the laces, loosening them, even though they were hard to see in the shadow of the bed.

He pulled each boot off, Shigeru raising one foot, then the other in turn, then he worked his way back up, peeling off socks, then pants and underwear.

Bare, Shigeru's muscles tensed.

Jack's hands ghosted over his ribs, and he relaxed again.

Standing again Jack pulled the other man's body close, now so very much skin to skin, thighs bumping, cocks bumping, and the kiss didn't stop at the lips. His mouth coaxed Shigeru's mouth to open, to let him in, to let him invade with a gentle tongue, exploring, stroking, tasting.

The only sounds were of kisses, and breath.

When Jack pulled back Shigeru's mind was ready to halt if Jack needed to though his body was claiming it couldn't. The blood had headed south and he was hard, the ache he'd had earlier in the evening a shadow in the back of his mind as he waited to see what Jack would do, leaving it in his hands.

What Jack did was sit on the edge of the bed and pull Shigeru to him.

He didn't hesitate, just ran his hands along the outsides of Shigeru's braced thighs to cup them behind him, stroking his buttocks just a little before pulling him closer, and bending over a little before opening his mouth.

Shigeru groaned as Jack sucked the head lightly, foreskin like Jack had never seen up close before sliding back and forth over the head as Jack pressed him forward, pressed him closer in. Groaned again and balanced a hand on Jack's shoulder as Jack's hands encouraged him to thrust, not slow, not fast, just thrusting back and forth into Jack's mouth, where he most wanted to be.

He could feel himself swelling more at the sight of those broad shoulders flexing, the feel of that short hair tickling his belly when Jack's head got close.

All his English had deserted him and he wondered how to tell Jack that this wasn't going to last much longer when Jack let him go, sitting there for a moment, staring at the hard, wet dick he'd just been sucking, as if studying it for detail.

But Jack scooted up into the bed, rolling over towards his nightstand, still his side of the bed, to open a drawer and pull out the lube.

Shigeru didn't have to know what that was to recognize it.

"{There's no way I will have the stamina to last long enough, it has been far too long,}" Shigeru's Japanese words tumbled out of him as he stood, hard, at the foot of Jack's bed, watching Jack slick up his own fingers.

And gasped as if punched as Jack reached down to slide two of them straight into himself.

Jack closed his eyes, winced a little as the opening was stretched as it hadn't been for a long while. Then it felt good, felt a little familiar, even, but Jack wasn't interested in that.

"Never mind the explanations, buddy," Jack said quietly, and reached his slick hand out toward Shigeru.

Who rolled, unprotesting, into the bed and between Jack's legs.

Jack realized he must've known he wanted this. Had essentially asked the doctors to certify Shigeru so he could do this. That he didn't care what happened after as long as he had this.

He didn't like thinking that about himself.

So he stopped thinking.

Jack rubbed his slick hand along Shigeru's length, working the tip, just the way he knew he himself liked it. He felt Shigeru shudder.

Hitching himself closer, giving Shigeru no room maneuver away, Jack tilted up a little and guided Shigeru in.

The big man's mouth opened and his eyes closed as he pressed slowly into a tight, hot heat he could barely stand.

Jack reached over the edge of the bed to wipe his hand on the side of the sheet. It was a water-based lube, one he knew from experience, long ago experience, wouldn't stain.

And he wrapped his legs around Shigeru's waist, wrapped his arms around Shigeru's chest, and held him, shuddering, tight, every way he could.

It was familiar and strange at the same time. A big, masculine body over him. A different masculine body, but...

Experimentally Jack tightened those muscles inside, and Shigeru groaned again, said something else in Japanese.

But Jack didn't care, whatever it was. He just rocked, moving forward and back just a little around Shigeru, until Shigeru took over and thrust himself.

It went from small, slight motions to bigger ones, rocking harder, but still an almost-familiar, almost homey kind of rhythm, and Jack closed his eyes and just enjoyed the sensation of Shigeru making love to him. Occasionally the way they moved brushed his prostate and that, too, Jack just enjoyed, but he paid no real attention to it, concentrating on Shigeru.

Jack did reach up to undo the tie of Shigeru's hair again. Shigeru shook it free and Jack enjoyed that too, the smooth dark curtain of it around them, closing in their breath, framing Shigeru's face, which wore the expression of a man in bliss.

It didn't take long, Shigeru succumbing to the heat and the tightness and the almost unbearable opening of his heart as he pushed into Jack, watched his face, felt his touch, and wished for time to stop.

Because time would not stop for them he felt the explosion as it gathered, buried his face in Jack's neck and drove inside him, felt Jack's arms crush him closer as he came, shuddering and jerking for a long, long time.

And time still did not stop as they lay there together for a while, listening to each other's heartrate slowing, feeling slight trickles of sweat cool here and there on their skin.

"{I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to --}" began Shigeru as he realized slowly that Jack was a little hard against his stomach, even as he himself was softening, about to slide out, unwilling. Which he did, stickily, wanting immediately to go right back to where he'd been even as he rolled over.

Jack just shook his head, ignored this unintelligible speech too, reaching into the same old drawer for some cleaning things he'd left in there. A cool just-barely-damp sensation as Jack cleaned him off, wiped traces of lube from himself, tossed the square in the trash bin by the wall, never missing.

And Jack turned the light off before rolling onto his back next to Shigeru.

Who lay still, willing to listen to Jack breathe all night.

Until Jack moved a little closer, just close enough, again, that the sides of their arms could touch.

And somehow that little body heat let Shigeru drift off to sleep, body exhausted, sated, while Jack lay away a little while longer, contemplating the ceiling next to the second man he'd ever made love to in his life.

***

When Shigeru awoke there was pale light coming through the window, a dented pillow next to his.

He would have liked to lie there, waiting to see if Jack would come back to the bed, but there were sounds, sounds elsewhere in the house, probably the kitchen. He could hear them.

And there were blue eyes, somewhere in the room. He couldn't see them, but he could feel them.

So he got up.

Longing for a real bath he sluiced himself off in Jack's shower the way his translator back in Ishido had indicated that his hosts would do. Another place on this planet, Shigeru thought darkly, there are civilized people who know how to wash. Thousands of years ago those people were mine. I hope they still do it right. I hope they take the time to eat, time to look at the flowers, time to love each other carefully.

He put on the clean change of clothes the Air Force had issued him for his outside visit. His robes from home, they'd said, would attract too much attention.

He would have liked them, though. He would have liked to be in his own bed, in his own home, on his own planet. He would have liked to be going in search of Jack there, knowing he would find him.

Instead he went into Jack's kitchen.

Jack's broad bare back greeted him and Shigeru felt another helpless wave of desire.

It had been long since the gods were revered on his world and cursing them had long since fallen out of common use. But Shigeru was an educated man, and as he watched Jack move, watched the muscles playing along his back, his shoulders, down to that narrow waist, he cursed the gods in his head, thoroughly, venomously, especially the ones that had learned to use the Stargates.

"Hungry?" said Jack, looking back over his shoulder.

"Yes," said Shigeru.

Jack placed the plates on the small table. "This is how I like to eat my eggs. I've been cooking them for myself for a long time."

Eggs Shigeru recognized; the wheaten bun below the eggs was flat, square, and open-textured, some type of dough Shigeru did not recognize. He shrugged, picked it up, bit it and chewed. It was unremarkable, if dry. He wished for some bonito broth to soak it in.

"I don't suppose you want coffee," Jack said, pushing his mug toward Shigeru, letting him take a sip and chuckling at the face Shigeru made.

"That is --" Shigeru searched for the word.

"Strong?"

"Disgusting," said Shigeru openly, making Jack laugh.

"Fruit juice," said Jack, pushing a glass of orange juice over instead.

They ate companionably, both of them pausing from time to time to look out the window at Jack's mountain view.

Crowds of fluffy white clouds blew away over the mountaintops and the sun went from watery white to bright.

Jack said, "I'll drive you back to the base."

Shigeru put down the toast and egg.

"I've got an offworld mission, my team is leaving later this morning. We're scheduled to be gone a few days. Nothing dangerous."

Shigeru felt that sharp, stabbing disappointment again and hoped fiercely it would be easy to get used to.

"Okay?"

Jack seemed to be waiting for Shigeru to say something. Shigeru didn't even bother to try to compose a speech in English, just gave Jack an expression that clearly said, "Would it matter if I said it weren't okay? Do I get a vote?"

Jack watched himself toy with the coffee mug. "When my wife and I split up, it was because I had failed her the worst possible way."

"You do not have to --"

Jack silenced him with a look.

"I didn't have anything else to wait for. I was in a holding pattern, you understand?" Jack pantomimed swirling around and around in the air, going nowhere. "There wasn't any future for me.

"Then a lot of things happened. I had a lot of people to think about. Daniel was one of them. Then Daniel was the main one.

"He's not dead." Jack wasn't looking anywhere now; his eyes were pointed out the window but he was seeing something far away, or nowhere. "He'll be back. Someday he'll be back here," Jack's fingernail rapped on the tabletop, "and I'll be here, waiting for him. That's the last one for me. He's the last one for me. Here, elsewhere, dead, alive, it doesn't matter. He's the end of my line."

Shigeru felt his teeth grinding, felt his face working in a desperate attempt not to give away all his fury and his massive burning hate. "He was... wrong. To leave you."

"Yes he was." Jack just nodded, looking at his own hands again. "I can't help it. It's a bitch, but there it is."

Unless 'bitch' meant 'nightmarish concatenation of hellish circumstance', Jack was understating the case a little, Shigeru thought.

I will love you more, Shigeru thought.

Even as he looked at Jack and realized Jack was only telling the truth. He thought he could convince Jack to love him. Even just a little. But Jack would always be waiting for those damnable blue eyes to come through the door.

The last of his appetite gone, Shigeru carefully rose and put the thick flat dish on the counter with the empty juice glass. If he were not very, very careful, he thought absently to himself, he would break them.

"I am ready to go," said Shigeru.

***

"Carter! Hang on a minute!"

Sam swung around. The Colonel was strolling up to her with a big Asian man she didn't recognize right on his heels.

"Sir?"

"I wanted you to meet Hatoyama Shigeru, the ambassador from Ishido, before I took him back down to the VIP quarters."

The big man was blinking and looking at Jack a little oddly. Jack looked back. "What? You think I don't remember your whole name?"

"Nice to meet you, Ambassador," said Carter, putting out her hand.

His hand engulfed hers. It was warm, and had calluses. "I am pleased to meet you, Carter."

"Oh. Sorry. Major Samantha Carter. Major is her title, Samantha is her first name, Carter is her family name," Jack rushed to add, not looking the least bit sorry.

"You call each other by your family names?" Shigeru sounded curious.

"Well, Carter we do, because, well, it's Carter. Teal'c!"

Jack greeted Teal'c as Carter glared at the side of his head and explained to Shigeru, "It's complicated."

"If you call me Shigeru, which is not my family name," said Shigeru as Teal'c joined them, "then I should call you Samantha? Or Major?"

"Sam. Sam is good." Sam flashed one of her blinding smiles.

"And this is Teal'c. He goes by Teal'c." Jack's hand gesture included Teal'c, now standing at gentle attention, the way he always was. Teal'c inclined his head. "That's easy enough, right?

"Shigeru, this is my --" Jack looked at Teal'c's calm, serious face, Carter's bright blue-grey eyes. "Remember when we were talking about the people you work with, to keep up the old homestead? Well, this is those people of mine."

Carter looked startled and Teal'c's eyebrow raised, but Shigeru's grin was genuine.

"But they're not servants," Jack rushed to add. "They're friends."

"Indeed," said Teal'c, with another tiny incline of the head, watching Jack a little warily as if he might come up with another inexplicable analogy without warning.

"Guys, this is Shigeru. He's saved my life. A couple of times."

Now it was Shigeru's turn to raise both eyebrows, but Jack's face was same as always, Jack's own warm, personal-without-giving-away-anything expression.

Jack went on, "So if he ever needs anything and I don't happen to be around, help him out, okay?"

"Colonel O'Neill is my blood brother," Teal'c said, his booming voice filling the narrow underground corridors and Shigeru suddenly realized that this was a warrior too. "If ever I can assist you, I will do so."

"But be a little careful, 'cause he'll also lie like a rug if it suits him. You understand that expression, lie like a rug?" Jack cocked his head as Shigeru's eyes narrowed. "Good. I don't think you do. Anyway. You guys get my point."

"I'm not sure we do, sir," said Carter. "Or anyway, uh, ... Sure, okay, we do." She bobbed her head at Shigeru. "I guess we should say, well, thanks for saving the Colonel's life. We owe you one."

"Thank you," said Shigeru, following most of the words but completely at a loss about what to answer.

"You're welcome," said Carter with another blinding flash of huge white smile. But her eyes were watching him very, very closely, and Shigeru could see that she saw much.

Formidable, thought Shigeru. Formidable.

And there between Jack and Sam, Shigeru could almost see, they were leaving a space. Automatic. Habit. They didn't even know they were doing it.

They were all waiting.

"I must return before the General sends his guards after me," Shigeru said suddenly, unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth. "I hope to see you again."

"We're leaving on a mission in a few hours," said Carter, checking her watch, "how long will you be on base?"

"I will not be here when you return."

Jack's eyes watched. Shigeru did not return the look.

"Okay, then," said Jack, "shall I walk you down to the VIP quarters?"

"There is no need. I can find my way."

The PA address system clicked. "Colonel O'Neill, report to General Hammond. Colonel O'Neill, report to General Hammond's office."

"That's your cue, sir," said Carter, then to Shigeru. "I can walk you down to VIP. You can't go around unescorted without a security clearance."

"Thank you." Shigeru bowed.

"Oh, okay, uh..." Jack seemed torn, knowing Teal'c and Carter were expecting him to peel out for the General's office. "Okay." He grasped Shigeru's hand in his, bit his lip as their hands closed over one another's. "Okay," he said again, more softly.

And in that light, easy way he had, he put his other arm around Shigeru, hugged him for the briefest of instants, then let him go. "Take care," he said, with a little nod, his dark eyes staying fixed on Shigeru's even as he turned away, and then he was on his way, out of sight.

"I am on my way to the armory to prepare for the mission," Teal'c told Carter, neither of them watching the most extraordinary man in the universe disappear out of Shigeru's future.

"I'll catch up to you there. Shigeru?"

Her voice pulled Shigeru back down the hallway, into himself.

"Shall we?" She cheerfully indicated how he should precede her. In the opposite direction.

"Yes." Managing the briefest of smiles in return he managed to get his feet moving, though they were heavy and inclined to stick to the floor.

She talked to him of things he mostly didn't understand, a few floors down, over, all the corridors looking the same. He longed to be outdoors. He longed for real clothes, real food. He longed to be home.

She didn't even seem to mind when he asked her, as they paused where the SF was guarding his quarters, making it clear he hadn't been listening to her at all, "What is that word for it, the man - or the woman -" he waved at her, serious, so she didn't smile - "who is guarding? The one who has to stay in the fight, the one who cannot leave?"

"The... leader?" Her brow furrowed as Sam tried hard to follow his train of thought. "The general? Commander?"

"No, no..." Shigeru's lips twitched with frustration.

"Huh. The one who has to stay in the fight. The... hmm. Champion? You know, Daniel's got a ton of dictionaries in his..." She caught herself. "I can look it up."

"You have a mission. A schedule. Right?" Shigeru's smile was tight. "Thank you." Then a little more warmly, because she was one of Jack's, "Really."

"Well. I'm sure I'll see you again. It's a small universe," she said, and gave him her hand again. She had a good strong grip.

Her he did not watch walk away.

The SF let him into his room. He felt exhausted. He went to lie down. At least in these clothes it did no damage to his robes for him to lie down fully dressed.

He stared at the ceiling and thought of his garden. Soon, he would be home. He would not come back to Earth again. There were others learning English, others who would need to have this privilege or the intrigue at court against him would become unbearable.

And he was no longer interested in Earth.

The other one, Teal'c, he might have known the word I was looking for, Shigeru thought. He would have known how to say hero.

END