After the explosive end to the conversation on the spacewalk, Daniel had wandered around in something like a daze for the next hour. What just happened? The conversation ran over and over in his head. Vala left, stormed off to his office. The mummy, not to mention the rest of the lab, was probably in danger but he couldn't bring himself to care as much as he should. First Eva, which, while not nearly as explosive, had been awkward on both their parts. He hadn't exactly made friends with Kerrigan or Midna. At the rate he was going, he'd be surprised if there was anyone on board he didn't piss off by the end of the week. Par for the course for Doctor Jackson.

He couldn't bring himself to work. When Daniel finally did sit down at the next set of artifacts, he found himself instead doodling spirals in his notes. Tapping his pencil or staring out the door. Fidgeting like an antsy kid. Anything but actually working.  The look on Vala's face right before she stormed off drifted up every single time. For a second there, it felt like real hate. It wasn't that he didn't care. It was that he couldn't fully emotionally wrap his head around a future he hadn't experienced yet. Nothing would ever be the same as being there.

He could try though.

The Media Library was one of the easier places to locate. Getting access to the files wasn't nearly as hard as he'd expected. Apparently he still had clearance to SGC files out in the middle of dimensions. There was something to be said about the government's determination to maintain classification and secrecy even with the world destroyed. You almost had to admire it.

Daniel stepped into one of the rooms and picked out a terminal. Just as the librarian said, files from 2006. A lot of them. Mission reports mostly, although he had a recommended supplemental file that he knew was his. Future his. He could tell without even reading it; the five-hundred page length attached to it kinda gave it away. Daniel frowned down at the numbers. There wasn't any way he could read all these in one day, but that's what all nighters were for. That was the good thing about college. It prepared you for long hours night after night, fueled only by what had to be deadly amounts of coffee.

The temptation to look up the rest of the files was particularly strong. He could look up other mission reports from before too, all he had to do was take a few steps back the way he came and request files. Or do a search for 'Abydos', 'Sha're', 'Apophis' to narrow it down. If only he had the name of the Goa'uld in her...

He wasn't here for her or himself. Leaving the door open for fresh air, Daniel pulled up what he guessed was Stacy's idea of a chair,  then mentally prepared himself for the long haul. Sore butt and back, here I come, Daniel thought.

...Just as soon as he figured out this terminal.

( Terrible song parodies and terrible pictures beyond the cut. )

[Chell and Aya are out and about in the City, wherever you need them to be. I sincerely apologize for this post. The end.]

Eva's little escapade into the brig didn't cure her of violent tendencies. Possibly it rubbed a little shame into them, but she has no intentions of letting her sharpshooting skills go rusty. She's called up a shooting range in the Sensoriums, and is carefully picking cans off a table target she has set up. The revolver's new, another free weapon from the ship since Dr. Jackson never bothered to return hers, but it's the same make as her old one and feels just as natural in her hand.

Lately her moods seemed to have shifted more wildly, like tides in a storm instead of during a streak of fair days. Her happiness at the Halloween festivities was genuine, but so was her misery when she drank herself into a stupor in her room the other day. Perhaps it's the strain of not having quite enough to do with herself, now that she's effectively unemployed. She should remind herself to follow up with Councilmember Bight on her potential position as an organizer.

She shoots three times and destroys two cans; a third refuses to tumble off the table and onto the ground. She grimaces in displeasure and fires the remaining three bullets at the can, which still stubbornly remains on the table. She loads up the chambers again and fires six more times.

The can taunts her.

And people wonder why she has a temper.