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She let herself into the house, using the key he'd given her, not bothering to knock first. He wouldn't answer. But then, she didn't need to knock with him and they both knew it.
Shrugging out of her coat, Danielle hung it up before advancing further into the house. "Jack?"
He didn't answer, not that she'd expected him to, which was fine by her. She'd find him whether or not he bothered to reveal his location out of hand. She collected two bottles of beer before wandering through the rest of the house.
She had a good idea of where he was and she wasn't wrong.
"Expecting a passing Goa'uld to wave?" Danielle quipped, climbing up to find Jack sitting at the telescope.
"Y'never know," he said, not turning to look at her.
"Wouldn't you have a fit if one did," she said, pressing a bottle into his hand.
"I think I'd be more surprised they'd passed by and not bothered to stop and give us the obligatory blow-us-to-hell hello," Jack said, finally turning to look at her. "Don't."
"Don't what?" she countered innocently, picking at the label on the beer bottle she held.
"Psycho-analyze me," he elaborated, taking a long pull off the beer. "There is to be no such thing here."
"Who said I was going to?" the archaeologist asked defensively. "If I were ever going to divert into a new career, I think the last person I would make a project out of would be you, Jack. You're enough to make Freud throw up his hands in defeat."
"Ya think?"
"With you I seem to do nothing but," Danielle sighed, sitting against the railing. "No psycho-analyzing, I promise. But you are going to talk about this, Jack."
"Am not."
"Jack?" Danielle leaned in. "It's either me or the shrink Dr. Frasier's got on stand by. She's insisting you talk to someone before you're let back into the field."
"I don't need to talk to anyone, Danielle," Jack said, aggravated. "I'm fine."
"Fine?" she scoffed. "I admit, I'm not the strong military type but I'm pretty damn sure no one's ever had to deal with what you have in the last twenty four hours."
"Yeah, that's me. Boldly going and all that." He muttered.
"Jack, that alien took on Charlie's form. Seeing that, seeing Sara again," she gave him a knowing look. "Don't bother to try and tell me that didn't affect you somehow!"
"Danielle -- "
"Don't, Jack," she said, soft. "Don't try and shut me out. I've pretty much poured my soul out to you these past few months about my husband. You are not going to turn around and shut me out now. You can try it but I'll be damned if I'm going to let you get away with it."
He met her intent gaze and heaved a resigned sigh. "You're a pain in the neck, Danielle."
"Mmhmm, talk."
"What's to talk about? That thing looked like Charlie and it damn near ripped me in two. That would be pretty much it."
"I was there too, Jack," Danielle pointed out. "I heard what he said. I saw the look on your face."
He looked about to say something but abruptly turned away, taking another huge swallow of beer. "Leave it alone, Danielle.," he warned quietly, rolling the bottle back and forth between his palms.
"No."
Her quiet defiance earned a surprised look then a resigned grin. "So a pain in the neck. My neck." He shrugged. "It felt like I lost him all over again, okay? Seeing Sara, I wanted nothing more than to go back. Lose myself in the past, there? Happy?"
"No. Not happy," she said as she shook her head. "Not happy at all. But, Jack, you can't keep bottling this stuff up. You may not like psychiatrists but they're not wrong when it comes to this. You can't shut it up somewhere inside yourself and expect it to go away, Jack." She smiled sympathetically. "Look where that got you the first time."
"Got me to Abydos..."
"With a nuclear bomb!" she shot back.
"Well, relax, Danielle, I'm not going to volunteer for any suicide missions anytime soon," he said, sarcastic.
"Good," she responded, completely serious. "I think I've lost enough people lately."
"Ah hell, Danielle."
She held up a hand, forestalling his comments. "This isn't about me, Jack. We've talked enough about my issues. We're --"
"Picking my brain tonight."
"That's one way to describe it," she said in cautious agreement. "Not what I would call it."
"And what, pray tell, would you call it?"
A faint smile touched her lips. "Nothing special." She leaned back, tipping the beer for another swallow. "Sharing a beer and a little conversation with a friend, that's all."
"Oh, is it now?" Jack questioned. "What about the sharing and stuff?"
Her smile strengthened. "It's not so much the actual talking so much as being willing to talk. You can't live your life behind walls, Jack. No one can. So, you being willing to, that's enough."
Lifting the beer to his lips again, he eyed her with a faintly amused look. "Danielle, I will never be able to figure you out."
"Nope." she agreed in satisfaction. "You won't. More fun this way."
"Now that...that I can't disagree with."
They sat in silence for a long time, watching the stars together.
Then, shifting his gaze from the sky to his friend's face, Jack murmured. "Danielle?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you."
She smiled, meeting his gaze. "Anytime."