Cat's Eyes A Highlander/SG-1 Xover By Tasha Part 2 Nobody had seen Daniel in days, and even though O'Neill would never tell his friend, he missed him when he wasn't around. Jack kept up the facade of military man, fixed on the mission, no time for talking, but he found Daniel's continual quest for knowledge stimulating. Sometimes he could be annoying, especially when he was right, but the team didn't feel complete without him. When Carter had suggested they go see how their friend was getting on with the translation, Jack had readily agreed. What they had found when they reached Daniel's apartment was a man knee deep in paper, and less than happy about life. Daniel waved them all through the door and kicked several pieces of paper out of his path as he headed for the table. He was definitely distracted, and Jack was almost sure he'd been wearing the clothes he was in for a couple of days straight. They had that crumpled; we've- been-slept-in look that O'Neill remembered from occasions in his own past. "Ah, there's fresh coffee on in the kitchen," the anthropologist said absently, "help yourselves. I just have to go change." Then he turned and left them standing there, almost as if he'd forgotten they existed. "I don't think I've seen him this spaced since he was working on the gate glyphs," Jack commented and headed for the inviting smell of coffee. "Looks like he's really into this," Sam commented as she followed her commanding officer. "Wonder how it's going." Jack just shrugged and tried to find some clean mugs. It looked like everything Daniel had eaten over the past however long was from a packet and there were enough water filled mugs in the sink to fill two cupboards. In the end O'Neill washed a few of them up and Sam dried them. They wandered back into the living room with four steaming coffees to find Teal'c peering at the mess on the table. Jack walked over and looked down, staring at the hand drawn copy of the alien writing. The first thing he wondered was whether he was looking at it the right way up. Finding it just a jumble of shapes he switched to glancing over Daniel's notes, and was equally bemused. At a guess the anthropologist had been using shorthand, alternatively it could have just been a bunch of tiny little lines. There were two options, keep looking and try and appear as if it was something he could even remotely understand, or admit defeat and just give up. Since the little squiggles threatened to start moving he took the later option and decided to focus on his coffee. It wasn't long before Daniel reappeared. He even seemed to have managed to shower in the short time he'd been away: O'Neill was impressed. "So how's it going," Jack asked as his friend wandered back into the room. "Do you want what I've been telling General Hammond or the truth?" Daniel replied wearily. "That bad?" Sam sounded sympathetic. "It's so complex," the scientist told her, and Jack recognised the excited look appear in Daniel's eyes: they were in for the works. "I've never seen anything quite like it. It a very beautiful looking language, but there are fifty seven different symbols in what seem like almost random sequences." O'Neill breathed a sigh of relief as the doorbell interrupted his friend's monologue. For a moment Daniel looked as if he was confused by what had stopped him, but with a shake of his head he walked towards the door. Jack was sure he'd never quite understand intellectuals. He watched as Daniel peered through the spy hole, and saw the younger man's whole demeanour change. The anthropologist's face lit up and he almost missed the door handle in his eagerness to reach it. "Adam, you made it," Daniel greeted almost before he'd swung back the door. The anthropologist never really talked about life outside the Stargate project, and he'd definitely never mentioned a friend called Adam. The way Daniel was reacting; it was like his best friend had just come back from the dead. As his friend moved slightly to the left Jack caught his first glimpse of the new arrival. O'Neill was quite surprised to see two people; a tall dark haired man in a long overcoat and a slightly shorter blond man hovering. "With a puzzle this interesting, how could I refuse," the dark haired spoke and proved himself to be Adam. "This is Richie, I hope you don't mind me bringing him along." "No problem," Daniel replied, "come in both of you." There was no logical reason for Jack's hackles to be up, but as he saw Daniel's friends something bothered him. For some reason he couldn't quite explain both men, but especially Adam, set his teeth on edge. Maybe he'd been in the military too long, maybe gating from world to world was making him paranoid, but he couldn't shake the feeling. When Daniel turned back, it was quite obvious he hadn't thought through the situation to that point and the half-unsure look that so often shaped his expression appeared. "Adam, ah, Richie," the archaeologist began, "these are some of my colleagues. Jack O'Neill, Sam Carter and Teal'c. Guys, I'd like you to meet an old friend of mine from my purely academic days." "Nice to meet you," Adam had a disarmingly pleasant smile, and Jack found himself smiling back as the stranger spoke, even before he realised it. The kid Adam had called Richie hung back looking a little awkward, and the way he scanned the room reminded Jack of a trapped rabbit--the Colonel corrected himself, no he didn't look that helpless, maybe a trapped cat. Now that he was getting over the surprise that Daniel had other friends, O'Neill was beginning to take stock of the situation. His eyes wandered to the papers scattered on the table, and back to Daniel: he had a sneaking suspicion. "Academic as in also a linguist?" he asked slowly. "Yeah," the anthropologist replied, oblivious to the veiled question under the one he was answering, "Adam and I met at a conference a few years ago. He's one of the two people in my field who will still talk to me." The anthropologist was so pleased to see his old friend that it took a few seconds for him to realise Jack did not look equally happy. O'Neill saw the light dawn and Daniel began to look a little sheepish. "Okay," he admitted eventually, "yes he's here about the script. I can't translate the writing alone, and Adam is the only other person who could help me. He's the best of the rest." Jack had a sinking feeling. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but do I sense classified in this conversation?" Adam didn't appear to be very worried. O'Neill could feel the frown knitting his brows, and he made no effort to remove it. "I'll take that as a 'yes'," was the stranger's matter-of-fact response. "Jack, if we want this translated, we need Adam," Daniel tone left little room for argument. Alarm bells were going off in O'Neill's head, but one thing he did know was that his friend wouldn't lie to him. Daniel was being perfectly honest, which left them in a quandary. "If it's so vital why didn't you go through Hammond?" he asked pointedly. "And wait a year until the powers that be come back with a no," Daniel replied, "you may not have noticed this but Adam isn't a US citizen and some of our colleagues get nervous at that." "Guys," Sam stepped in, "let's not fight in front of the guests." The sarcasm got to them both, and Jack saw Daniel lose his obstinate look, as he himself tried to reign in his training. He was calming himself down when he noticed that Adam's attention had wandered away from him and was now focused on Teal'c. The Jaffa was wearing his hat as usual since he was off base, and although Teal'c was quite large and an eye catching individual this seemed too slight a reason to be causing what appeared to be intense interest. What made Jack start to feel edgy was that Adam was not staring at Teal'c face, he was looking straight at the other man's chest. When the sharp piercing gaze flicked upwards and peered under the rim of the Jaffa's hat to where a fleck of gold was just visible, O'Neill's alarm bells started ringing. Something was definitely wrong, and this time Jack wasn't trying to ignore his instincts. He glanced around and everyone else in the room had noticed Adam's interest: the other two human contingent of the SG- 1 team looked vaguely nervous and the rest of the room didn't appear too comfortable either. The only person who looked calm was Teal'c and he didn't count because he only had one everyday expression. Daniel looked awkward; Sam definitely didn't like the situation; even Richie appeared uneasy about something and had moved closer to Adam. As for the mysterious source of the tension himself, the dark haired man had a frown rapidly growing on his face. O'Neill was absolutely positive none of this was good. Richie had felt awkward just entering the apartment; once what sounded like government involvement had been announced he was even less happy; now Methos was acting strangely and everything was going down hill. The guy introduced as Teal'c might have a funny name, and he didn't look like someone you'd want to meet on a dark night, but that didn't explain the ancient Immortal's behaviour. Methos was always calm and collected; Richie had almost never seen him thrown by anything. He was five thousand years old for heaven's sake: what he hadn't seen didn't need mentioning. His dispassionate approach could be as annoying as hell, but Methos' current reaction was far more worrying. The younger Immortal found himself wishing he was anywhere but where he was, that was, until he actually looked hard at Teal'c. Something stirred at the back of his mind as he let his paranoia go for a second and considered the situation. It was totally weird, and he had no idea what was happening, but he felt something. It was so faint that if Methos had not been acting so strangely he would never have noticed, but part of him knew Teal'c was not all he seemed. For some reason he could not fathom his eyes moved slowly to the bottom of the guy's chest. This whole situation was just too freaky. To anyone who didn't know him Methos probably looked relaxed, but Richie knew the ancient man was nothing of the sort. If he had not clamped down on his fighting instinct the younger Immortal would have been reaching for his sword. Methos then surprised the whole room by saying one word. "Jaffa." It came out in such a tone of derision that there was totally stunned silence, even from Richie who really didn't know what his friend was talking about. Several faces looked as if they were trying to come up with something to say, but it was Teal'c who spoke. "How did you know?" Richie lost the conversation there as Methos said something that sounded to him like complete gibberish. Teal'c just looked at him, and then replied, also in the same incomprehensible language. "Adam, what do you mean? Why did you refer to yourself as the enemy," Daniel had translated the conversation, but he didn't look as if he understood it. "What are you doing working with them?" Methos replied, sounding very unhappy and pointing at the six foot something black guy in a way Richie thought was probably unwise. "Tell me they're not back." The archaeologist looked speechless, and Richie was totally confused. Methos was acting very un-Methos like: he never talked in straight lines if circles would do, but he was being nothing if not plain. Richie might not understand what was going on, but he was sure everyone else did. "Teal'c is on our side," was what Daniel eventually said. "No they're not back." Methos' eye opened wide as if he'd just realised something and then he frowned again. "Please say you didn't help someone open the Gate of the Gods," the ancient Immortal said, and Richie gave up trying to understand any of the conversation. Daniel seemed to be about to say something, but the linguist's friends did not seem interested in that and Richie knew trouble when he saw it. The O'Neill guy was looking dangerous, and for the first time the Immortal wondered if the other man's jacket might hide more than a shirt. "What do you know about the Stargate, and where did you find out?" the man Richie was positive was military stepped forward. "I know it was buried for a very good reason," Methos' voice was angry, "and I know it cost thousands of lives to do it. Putting it back together has to be a particularly modern arrogance. There were wars fought over that thing, and it should have stayed shut." There was something unnerving about Teal'c and Richie found his eyes drawn back to the big man. It wasn't really his size or his deadpan expression, Richie had faced worse in his short Immortal career, and he couldn't work out why the guy spooked him. However, his scrutiny was rewarded by the view of Teal'c's face actually moving for something other than speech. From the new expression Richie figured Methos' diatribe had sparked a memory. "The Enemy," Teal'c spoke slowly as if piecing together fragments of thought. "There are legends of the Tau'ri, of men who were not like their brothers. They walked with fallen gods and led humans in rebellion against the true gods. They are forbidden tales. These men were known as the Enemy." "Are you a part of some secret society?" Daniel seemed to be trying to rationalise what he was hearing. "Are there people out there who know about the Stargate." Methos was calming down, at least on the outside, and he looked at the others in the room with disdain. "Don't worry, I'm all that's left," the ancient Immortal said coldly. "No one else remembers." Richie watched as Methos pushed his way past O'Neill towards the table and looked down at the papers. Since he already knew so much the military man obviously decided it wasn't worth stopping him. "This is incredible," Daniel had a weird look in his eye, and even though his friends were anxious, he looked of all things, excited. "Where did you learn about the Stargate? Did you know about it before we were at school together?" "Oh, way before," Methos returned, "let's just say it has a lot to do with my knowledge of ancient languages." Richie didn't like the situation one little bit, but at least as Methos glanced at the papers on the desk he seemed to relax a little. The younger Immortal was almost beginning to hope they might be able to salvage the situation. He'd thought about making his escape several times, but he wasn't about to leave Methos, and besides, being chased by the very large black guy was not top of his to-do list. He was also curious about what the hell was going on. So far he knew that Methos thought Teal'c was not a good guy; that he was something called a Jaffa; and that everybody here was involved with something called a Stargate. It was a lot of information; unfortunately it was all completely useless without some explanation. "You can read it?" Daniel had watched Methos scan the transcript of the writing they had found, and it hadn't been difficult to realise the Old Man understood it: even Richie could tell that. "I'm a bit rusty," Methos told his friend, "but yes I can read it. This is the language of the Lenerai. They were on earth before the Goa'uld and they tried to help humanity when it was invaded. Unfortunately they were a peaceful people, they only evacuated communities in danger from the Goa'uld, and they had no offensive capabilities. Shu and Tefnut wiped out their planet in 1500 BC by our calendar. The last known Lenerai died helping lead the rebellion on Earth, but it's possible some of them are still alive out there. This is from their home, and warns any visitors of their fate, and the danger of the Goa'uld." Daniel was slacked jawed and Richie had to admit that he was impressed as well. The one person who didn't look at all thrilled was O'Neill. "Okay, right now I don't care what it says," the man announced to the room in general. "This is all classified information, and I don't know who's telling the truth about what, but I'm going to find out. We're taking this to SG command, and I'm not taking no for an answer." Richie didn't know what exactly SG command was, or where it happened to be, but the idea of not having a choice but to go there, worried him. The fact that the only other person in the room who looked slightly anxious about the idea was Daniel also caused the young Immortal some concern. Methos for his part just turned around and looked at the military man. The ancient Immortal's anger and momentary lack of control had passed, and he gave the impression that he was totally in charge of the situation. "If you insist," he said calmly. Richie just knew he was in big trouble. The fact that he was wearing his slightly longer leather jacket, and hence was carrying his sword with him was no longer as comforting as it had been. He had considered leaving it in the car, but where Methos was concerned you could never be too sure what you were walking into. When they had begun their walk to the apartment it had seemed like a sensible precaution, now Richie thought he might have been wrong. "Okay, I have absolutely no idea what is going on here," the Immortal finally said. "Too bad, kid," O'Neill told him, "because you're along for the ride." It took some effort, but Richie managed to bite back the retort that came to his lips at the "kid" comment. Opening his mouth now would most likely get him into even more trouble, and no matter what Mac might think Richie had actually learnt some restraint over the past few years. The day was turning out to be a very bad one; Richie just prayed it wasn't going to get any worse. End of Part 2