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The negotiations had to take place in sign language because the one person who could have made himself understood was lying trussed up in a corner with a gag in his mouth.
Jack was being careful not to look across at Daniel too often. He'd glanced in his direction on entering the long high-ceilinged chamber, of course, and felt his heartbeat return to something approaching normal. He'd followed the right trail to the right city, and, by good luck, had hit upon the right bunch of slave trading bastards, first time out. Daniel was barefoot, had rope lashed around his ankles and his hands tied behind his back. He was still wearing his black t-shirt and fatigue pants, and didn't seem to be hurt, which reassured Jack a little. He'd walked around and looked at everyone else before coming back to Daniel and pointing him out, trying to keep it as casual as he could. He said, "How much?" and when that only won him a baffled stare from the big guy with the grease stains on his tunic, he lifted the money bag at his belt and jingled it. "How much for him? That one there. How much?"
Apparently there was a ritual to negotiations. You couldn't just say, 'Give him to me' and hand over the money. A whole load of other things had to happen before you got to walk out of there with your purchase. He was sure if Daniel hadn't been gagged so tightly with a piece of leather that it was cutting open the sides of his mouth, the anthropologist could have told him about Middle Eastern native bartering rituals that followed a similar pattern.
The guy with the grease stains went over to where Daniel was huddled in the corner, putting the tip of the scimitar he was carrying under Daniel's jaw as a warning. At Daniel's nod, he sliced through the bonds around his ankles before dragging him to his feet by his hair. Jack felt his face contort into something he was trying hard to turn into an easy smile, but which so wanted to be a snarl of hatred. He decided the only way he and Daniel were going to get out of there was if he went and examined those fascinating pots for sale against the north wall like he really, really wanted one for his living-room.
There were guys with weapons dotted at intervals around the enormous room, ensuring buyers paid up and slaves didn't escape. Too many for him to take on alone. Something in the atmosphere here had fritzed all their communications equipment, so he couldn't send word to Carter and Teal'c to let them know he'd found what they were all looking for. That was the reason those guys had been able to grab Daniel in the first place. Daniel had been wandering around that Sumerian temple videotaping the etchings when the slave traders had hoved into view. Daniel had kept smiling at the newcomers but had been hissing into his transceiver that he'd really appreciate some company and he meant now. The slavers had just moved in and grabbed him. They'd left the video camera on the ground, still running, which was how the rest of SG-1 had known who they were looking for and how long it was since Daniel had been taken.
By Jack's estimate, Daniel had been a prisoner for four hours and thirteen minutes, which was exactly four hours and thirteen minutes too long.
Greasy Shirt still had hold of Daniel by the hair and was giving a fat laugh as he glanced across at Jack. He said something to Daniel that made the younger man turn his head away in weary disgust. Jack didn't need to be a linguist to work out the theme of the slaver's comments and felt his anger rack itself up another notch.
It could so easily have been someone else standing where he was right now. Some guy who'd genuinely felt no compassion for Daniel, just looked him over and made it clear that he liked what he was seeing. And this bastard would have sold Daniel to him anyway, and gloated over Daniel's forthcoming ordeal as he was doing it. The thought made the knot of anger tighten in Jack's guts; but he kept his face a careful blank as the slaver dragged Daniel to him before letting Daniel go with a soft-snarled warning that sounded very ominous.
Daniel was keeping his gaze fixed on the floor. Jack knew it was because Daniel didn't want to meet his eye, knowing if he did the relief in his gaze was going to become obvious. But it was still disconcerting to see Daniel acting like someone resigned to being bought and sold.
The slaver clapped his hands and at once people were bustling. It reminded Jack a little of being in the infirmary just before you got a needle in the butt. A makeshift tent sprang up around them but instead of white curtains this screen was made from faded red cloth shot with scattered strands of gold. Jack found himself being helped down onto a pile of crimson cushions that seemed to have come out of nowhere. He adjusted his 'borrowed' robes awkwardly as he sat, disliking the stale smell of their last owner's sweat but grateful for the way they concealed his sidearm. He wanted to get Daniel out of here the easy way if he could, but if people started making difficulties he was perfectly prepared to start spraying bullets around. A pretty girl in a veil shyly offered him refreshments on a tin plate and a goblet of something warm and spiced, which he suspected might well be drugged. Jack kept his face blank and inscrutable as he gave his head a firm shake. He felt sorry for the girl with her scared doe's eyes and gold collar around her throat, but this was a city of slaves and he could only save one of them.
He and Teal'c had held up someone he fervently hoped was a tax-collector and had taken the guy's clothes and money. Trying to enlist the voluntary aid of a local would have taken too damned long and they'd all known what kind of attention Daniel was likely to attract. He'd sent Teal'c and Carter to check out the rest of the casbah while he followed his nose to this set of auction rooms. He'd been terrified Daniel had already been sold. Finding him had been the first stroke of luck they'd had all day, but he knew he was going to have to play this carefully if he wanted to get them both out of there in one piece.
The tent smelt strongly of spices and oils, jasmine, incense and an undertow of ginger. But those comforting aromas were overlaying other scents: sweat and arousal duelling with fear and pain and too many lingering odours of defeat. The slaver was smiling at Jack conspiratorially as he ran a finger up the side of Daniel's face. He said something in a voice dripping with suggestion, seeming to be congratulating Jack on his good taste. Then he snarled something to Daniel that clearly promised pain if he didn't perform well in the coming negotiations. Daniel stared stolidly at the floor. Jack gritted his teeth.
The slaver clapped his hands again and the two big guys who'd put up the curtains were there in an eye-blink. It took all of Jack's self-control not to whip out the sidearm he had concealed under the stolen robes, but the men looked bored rather than hostile.
It took him a few seconds to realise what they were doing. One took out his knife, went behind Daniel and cut through the thick ropes around his wrists. Jack saw his teammate wince with mingled relief and pain as the blood began to flow back into his hands. Then they began to strip him.
Jack said quickly, "I don't need to – "
Daniel shot him a warning glance, and he realised the younger man was right. Why else would a guy like him be buying a guy like Daniel anyway? Daniel obviously wasn't a warrior and no one seeing the paleness of his skin would have taken him for a good field worker. The slavers didn't know anything about all the knowledge in Daniel's head, so it wasn't as though Jack could be buying him for his skills as a linguist. All the same, it was not a pleasant experience to watch Daniel being ruthlessly stripped by men who clearly saw him as nothing other than a commodity.
When they were done, they stepped back, still looking bored. Jack was frankly grateful for their boredom, because if they'd looked aroused he would definitely have had to kill them. The slaver was looking at him in obvious anticipation. When Jack only stared back at him expressionlessly, the man waved an arm at Daniel, eagerly ushering Jack in his direction. Jack belatedly realised that he was being invited to inspect the goods before making his purchase.
Seeing a chance to get them to take the damned gag off, Jack pointed to his own mouth, tapping a finger against his teeth then jerking his head at Daniel. He tried to appear as indifferent to Daniel's welfare as he could, despite the way he so wanted to hit someone for what Daniel had been put through.
After a nod from the slaver, one of the big guys came and yanked at the knot on the gag, then wrenched it off and threw it into the corner. Daniel turned his head back, tongue flicking across his dry lips, the cuts at the side of his mouth shiny and faintly weeping blood.
By now Jack was gritting his teeth so hard he swore he could feel the enamel cracking. Killing these guys would have been such a pleasure, but he knew he had a much better chance of getting Daniel out of there unharmed if he just went along with the negotiations. But it was very hard to reward the people who had done this to his teammate and he wasn't sure how much self-control he'd packed for this trip, or how much of it he'd used up already.
The slaver was waving an arm in Daniel's direction again, clearly inviting Jack to step up and take a really good look. He was also keeping up a running commentary with expressive gestures that Jack didn't need translated to get the gist of. The slaver was evidently recommending Daniel's charms to him. Except, of course, the slaver didn't know zip about how much Daniel was really worth. He wasn't talking about intelligence, decency, loyalty, courage, integrity, compassion, or the remnants of an innocence Jack would have given so much to keep intact. One which experiences like this had to be steadily eroding. Jack was trying to tune the slaver out like static interference on a song he wanted to listen to, but it was difficult given the way the guy was nodding and rubbing his hands. The gloating smile on his face really made Jack want to put a fist straight down the bastard's throat.
Jack hoped Daniel knew he wasn't enjoying this, but he had to make it look good. It seemed likely he was going to be handing over a lot of money to these people so he ought to look like he was spending it wisely. Hoping Daniel would understand, Jack walked up to his prospective purchase and put a hand under Daniel's jaw, tilting his head up.
For the briefest second, their eyes met; Jack hoped Daniel saw the apology flicker in his gaze as he read the weary resignation in Daniel's. He really didn't like the confirmation he read in those over-sized blue eyes that being stripped naked in front of his best friend and commanding officer didn't even qualify as the low-point of Daniel's day. Then Jack was tilting his head to one side, arrogantly looking Daniel over while Daniel stared fixedly at some point to the side of his left ear. He looked in Daniel's ears, put a hand to his jaw and opened his mouth, making a show of counting his teeth, then walked around him slowly, letting his gaze lap over Daniel's body as though he liked what he was seeing.
In reality, he was counting bruises and getting angrier and angrier. Daniel hadn't had a mark on him that morning, not so much as a scratch. He had whole patterns of them now, swirls around one hip and down his right thigh, across his back and around his ribs, blows from something heavier than a belt or knotted rope-end, a sand-filled sock or a stick, perhaps. Jack guessed Daniel had attempted to escape and been punished for it by men who wanted to hurt him without breaking the skin or marking his face. And there were more bruises on his arms, not just the ones the ropes had left, but finger-marks as well. Maybe Daniel hadn't actually been whipped or tortured, but he'd definitely been manhandled: tied up and casually brutalized by men who were happy to sell him on to someone they were clearly assuming would take him home and rape him.
The urge to start spraying bullets around was now almost overwhelming and the trigger of his sidearm was starting to call to him like a lover. Jack became aware of Daniel shooting him a look as he completed his slow circle; a warning glance, anticipating how he'd be reacting and telling him to cool it.
Knowing Daniel was right didn't make him any less angry, but Jack wrestled it out of his face as he turned to the slaver and shrugged. "Very nice. Now where do I get him gift-wrapped?"
If he didn't understand the words, the slaver clearly got that Jack was still an interested purchaser. He nodded in satisfaction before indicating that they should both sit down. As Jack reached for the moneybag, Daniel swayed a little as though faint and whispered, "Barter."
It was timely reminder. To get Daniel dressed and out of there, Jack would have gladly paid any price the guy was asking without a murmur, but, of course, he was supposed to be convincingly lukewarm about his potential purchase. If he acted too eager, these guys might smell a rat. Decking someone might tip them off something was a little awry as well. He had to pretend he was playing poker that was all. Except usually when he was trying to conceal his hand he didn't have Daniel standing there, naked, with his uniform in ribbons on the floor. Nor were there usually two big guys looking Daniel over like they'd seen it all a million times before but could probably bring themselves to screw him if nothing better came along. It was astonishing how much strain those circumstances could put on his customary good temper.
Jack really didn't enjoy any part of the negotiations and he was pretty sure Daniel wasn't enjoying them much either. The slaver, however, was obviously having a whale of a time. Jack managed to spin things out for half an hour despite his rapidly fraying patience, but gathered the slaver would have preferred it if negotiations could have lasted four times that long. He'd already called for more refreshment breaks and pauses to go over, sink his fat fingers into Daniel's short hair and yank his head back or give him an impatient jab in the ribs to make him turn a circle so Jack could get another eyeful of the treasures that were on offer. Jack tried to keep his expression blank, a bored mask. He told himself again to just think of it like a poker game, but his face was aching with the effort of not revealing his hatred and he had never been so glad in his life that he didn't speak the lingo. He just knew the slaver had been going into a lot of detail about exactly why Daniel was worth so much, and how much fun Jack would be able to have with him once he got him home, and what a satisfied purchaser Jack would definitely be if he could just see his way clear to paying out a few more measly gold pieces.
He was determined not to meet Daniel's gaze at any point, trying to reduce the embarrassment for both of them, but was aware of him every second, so near and yet so damned far. All he wanted to do was get him out of this degrading situation and as far away from this self-satisfied son-of-a-bitch as possible. Mostly, Daniel looked pale but resolute; obviously determined to stick it out doggedly come what may. But every now and then the slaver would beckon Jack closer to say something with a leer and Jack would be aware of Daniel out of the corner of his eye, turning his head away as his situation plumbed new depths of humiliation.
After thirty-one minutes exactly, Jack decided enough was enough and upped his offer swiftly, allowing himself to be persuaded to part with fifteen of those gold coins from the possible tax-collector's pigskin purse. And although the slaver clearly found Jack a disappointment as a barterer, he seemed well satisfied with the price he'd gotten for Daniel. Jack rather got the impression the slaver didn't think Daniel was worth half that much. Which showed all he knew, the bastard son-of-a-bitch.
He turned to the slaver and said, "So, do I get any clothes for my fifteen pieces of gold or does he only come alfresco?"
The slaver launched into a question Jack couldn't work out at all and he couldn't help darting an enquiring glance at Daniel.
With his eyes still fixed on the far wall of the makeshift tent, Daniel said expressionlessly, "He's asking if you want me bathed, and if you want me delivered to your home under cover of darkness or if you want to take me with you now."
The slaver said something savage to Daniel, raising a threatening hand as he did so, clearly telling him to shut up before he got hit. Jack had to fight another snarl into a smile as he turned to the man. "Oh, I want him to go, definitely. I'll have him dry-cleaned when I get him home. Take out, got it? Now, you want to give me some clothes for him? Clothes?" Jack fingered the robes he was wearing impatiently and pointed at Daniel.
The slaver nodded and clapped his hands again. A loincloth and a white toga-type item of very thin cotton were provided which between them just about covered Daniel's modesty. The two big guys put the clothes on him with the same roughness with which they'd removed his last set. Scratching his jaw to try and conceal the way his fingers kept curling into a fist, Jack walked over to the opening of the tent and stared fixedly at nothing as they manhandled Daniel into his skimpy attire.
When he figured Daniel had to be decent again, Jack turned around to find the slaver beaming at him like they were old friends. A piece of parchment was pushed into Jack's hand, which he presumed must be the bill of sale or something, as a heavy leather collar was buckled around Daniel's throat. When the chain attached to the collar was pushed into Jack's hand he didn't know whether to laugh outright or turn around and hit someone. After a moment of wrestling with his emotions, he gave a gentle tug on the chain and then walked away. Walking a few steps behind Jack, like something duly sold, Daniel followed him.
They escaped the folds of material, walked out across the vast chamber and back out into the sunlight, Jack gripping the end of the chain tightly just in case anyone tried to grab Daniel back. Neither of them spoke, and they were careful not to look at each other until they had passed through the narrow, strong-smelling streets and reached the fields beyond. Once they were behind the cover of a haybale, they simultaneously tried to wrench at the buckle of the collar around Daniel's neck.
"Damn it, Jack, let me do it!"
"You can't see what you're doing. Hold still, Daniel. I've got it." Jack pushed Daniel's hands away, gently but firmly. "You're throttling yourself. Let me do it." He slid the tongue of leather out of its buckle much more carefully than Daniel could have managed, then gently eased back the strap to loosen it. He pulled it off then rubbed at the sore place the leather had left on Daniel's neck. "There you go. You want to sit down?"
"I'm fine," said Daniel tersely, still not meeting his gaze.
"Well, this is where Teal'c and Carter and I arranged to meet, so we might as well both sit down while we wait for them."
Daniel sank down on the hay next to him and Jack said, "Are you hungry? Thirsty?" He dug into the bale and pulled out his pack, digging out the water bottle which he handed over.
Daniel drank deeply and then handed it back. "Thank you." He noticed the piece of parchment sticking out of Jack's robes, reached across and plucked it out. He read it in silence.
Jack said quietly, "What does it say?"
"That you own me." Daniel's voice was expressionless but Jack could feel the anger and humiliation coming off Daniel like a scent – and he could smell the casbah too, a faint aroma of spices, and old clothing, other people's sweat.
"The radio didn't work. We only knew what happened to you because of the videocamera. We got here as soon as we could." When Daniel didn't say anything, he tried again. "Look, you do know I couldn't understand a word that guy was saying to me, don't you?"
Daniel said conversationally, "Jack, the fact that you don't speak Ancient Sumerian is the only reason why I don't have to arrange to have you killed as soon as we get back to base."
Jack cleared his throat. "Okay. Well, I guess me not keeping up those foreign languages worked out pretty well for both of us this time, then." He dared another sideways glance at Daniel but the younger man's face was still set and unreadable. Jack tried to think of one good argument he could offer Daniel to persuade him that what he'd just been through wasn't an abjectly humiliating experience, but his mind wasn't coming up with anything very convincing at the moment. He reached across and took the parchment from Daniel's fingers. "You want me to tear this up here or shall we wait until we get back to the SGC and burn it?"
"Keep it," Daniel told him tersely. "Call it a souvenir." He bowed his head and put a hand up to his face.
Jack bit his lip, grimacing. "Daniel, did they…?"
"No!" Daniel said it fiercely, whipping his head back up and facing him, presumably so Jack could see that he was telling the truth. "No, they didn't. That would have…devalued me. Of course that was the only reason they didn't, because there wasn't a damn thing I could have done to stop them, was there?"
Jack winced at the look in Daniel's eyes. He didn't mind the anger, the anger was healthy and natural, but the humiliation was painful to see, and the bewilderment was even worse. It still came as such a shock to Daniel there were people like this in the world; people who would hurt you for no reason. People to whom he'd done no harm at all but would still have sold him into a life of painful and degrading servitude just because they could.
Internally, Daniel was probably still trying to work this one through, find a reason for it, something he'd done or left undone to make this happen. Jack had never thought he'd be grateful to Daniel's insecurities but right now they were probably the only thing standing between Daniel and him finding out at least one of the reasons why those bastards had picked on him. Jack didn't need to speak Ancient Sumerian to know Greasy Shirt had been talking about how young and pretty Daniel was, not to mention what big blue eyes he had, and there had probably been a lot more along those lines Jack didn't even want to think about or he really was going to have to go back there and kill everyone. But although Daniel had clearly been disgusted by the recital of his physical assets he wouldn't have believed them. He would have written them off as sales pitch and never realised they might actually be true. No, Daniel would be blaming himself, because Daniel always did, but he'd be blaming himself for not reacting fast enough or not appearing threatening enough. Which was better than him blaming himself for the way he looked, but Daniel not blaming himself at all would be even better still.
"This wasn't your fault, Daniel. They grabbed you because you were alone, that's all. It could have happened to any of us."
"But it didn't, Jack. It happened to me. And you had to come rescue me – again. Just like you always have to come and rescue me." Daniel tore up a handful of the hay and threw it at the leather collar.
There was a long pause before Jack said quietly, "Well I'm sorry you hate me rescuing you so much, Daniel, because I can't say that it's ever bothered me zip."
"Why? Because it confirms how efficient you are and how unsafe I am to be let out without a keeper?"
"Well, that too, of course, but I was thinking more along the lines of how it isn't getting you back in one piece that I mind, Daniel, it's losing you that's scary. That's terrifying. Every time we get you back, I feel twenty-one again. But every time we lose you I feel a hundred and ten. So, you see, I don't mind the rescues at all, it's the hours before the rescue when you're still missing that always scare the shit out of me."
Daniel swallowed and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry if I sounded – ungracious. I really am grateful you found me so fast. I just really…"
"I know." Jack carefully didn't look at him. "You do know I wasn't enjoying that?"
"I know you weren't, Jack. It's just…" Daniel looked fixedly at his bare legs, at the skimpy white material that barely covered the tops of his thighs. "I don't want to lose your respect."
"That will never happen."
Jack said it so emphatically that Daniel looked at him in surprise. "Jack, you just saw me stripped naked by a greasy slaver right in front of you."
"Daniel, I'm a Colonel in the United States Air Force, I've seen privates before." He'd hoped for a twitch of a smile but Daniel just kept right on looking at him the way you looked at someone whose respect you needed and thought you'd lost. A bad joke clearly wasn't going to cut it this time. Time to get real.
Daniel picked up a twig and started scratching at the ground with it, tearing a faint furrow in the grass. Jack shook his head. Sometimes he knew damned well Daniel saw what he wanted to see when he looked at him. And right now Daniel was determined to convince himself he'd done something wrong and they both knew it. Jack said quietly, "That wasn't what happened in that tent."
Daniel gave one of his tight little nods, still scraping at the grass. "Yes. It was."
"No, Daniel, I just saw you keep your head and make me keep mine despite the fact you were being stripped naked by a greasy slaver right in front of me. I was proud of you. I have never been anything other than proud of you on every mission we've been on together and don't you ever forget it."
The stick fell out of Daniel's fingers and he looked up in surprise. "What?"
Determinedly not looking at him, Jack let that sink in and then added, "And don't think what I…paid for you back there is what you're worth. Maybe that son-of-a-bitch didn't know your true value, but I do, and so do Carter and Teal'c." He risked a quick glance at Daniel to see if his words had registered. The younger man had his head bowed again but this time there was a small surprised smile playing on his lips. He wasn't scratching about with sticks either.
Daniel said quietly, "Thanks, Jack."
Jack looked down across the fields. The sun was starting to sink, turning the plough furrows crimson. He could see two figures in native robes that didn't quite fit them climbing over the stile, body-language a mixture of disappointment and hope that told its own story. He raised an arm and waved, then indicated the figure next to him and saw the relief wash through them both. Still not looking at Daniel, he added quietly, "And maybe one day, Daniel, you'll work out just how much you're worth as well."