The rest of the mission passes all too fast, and yet all too slow. Jack is itching to get to the bottom of whatever is going on with his teammate. Still, he didn't exactly disagree that 'on a mission' was the wrong place and time, and pulling them off this particular mission would feel like a punishment to Daniel, whether it was intended that way or not; the archaeologist had been looking forward to exploring these ruins for months. 

That first night, he'd had a long, not particularly restful time contemplating what Daniel had said. The 'I'm not afraid of you' was clear enough, and a bright spot in an otherwise shitty situation. It gave him at least some cautious optimism that they can work through this, if he's careful enough about it. It also told him enough about where Daniel's head was at that he tried to adjust his behavior accordingly. He did his best to move a little slower, and keep his voice level and calm (definitely no yelling, or growling!), and he let himself go back to a normal level of touching and teasing as long as he didn't catch Daniel by surprise. There was no way to objectively judge if he'd succeeded from the inside looking out, but anecdotally at least, it felt like everyone was able to release a breath they'd been holding as a team, so he was ready to call it a success.

Despite it being a low-stakes mission, being camped on an alien world eventually takes its toll, and they're all tired and gross when they arrive back at the SGC. Jack is the last one released from medical after stopping for a quick word with the General. 

"How'd it go, Jack?"

"No problems, sir," he rolls his tired shoulders and gives a little shrug. "Daniel'll be able to tell you more, but I know he was pleased as punch with whatever he was finding in those ruins, it seemed to live up to all his expectations. He was already campaigning for more time."

George nods, smiling faintly. He's no stranger to how convincing Daniel can be, but they both know that SG-1 is likely needed on more urgent things. "Alright. We'll do a full debrief first thing on Monday, then."

"Monday?" Jack glances down at the flip calendar on the General's desk just to make sure he hasn't mixed up the dates, but sure enough, it's showing Thursday. 

The General leans back in his chair, giving Jack a frank look across the desk. "Take the extra day, and sort out your team, Jack." 

Right. Jack knows not much gets past George, but he'd hoped maybe this had. It's mild, as far as rebukes go, but he feels the sting. The General's right, though; not every mission is going to be a milk run like this one, and he already knew getting straight with Daniel had to be his next step. 

Deep in thought, he goes from medical to the locker room and hops in the shower for a quick rinse. When he gets out, Teal'c's just getting dressed, but at least one shower is still running. Daniel will have been longer chatting with Janet, and he likes long, hot showers after they've been off-world. "We're off until Monday," he tells the Jaffa, who nods as he closes his locker. "Can you tell Carter?" That gets him a deeper, slightly more solemn nod, and the other man glances towards the showers. 

Jack tries not to get annoyed. It's good that so many people have eyes on what's been going on - as second in command of the base, as an officer, he wants nothing more than for his people to be this observant because it helps make sure that there are no secret, shadowy pockets where abuse can fester. It still rankles to be under the microscope himself. "We're going to talk," he says gruffly. It doesn't move Teal'c immediately. 

"DanielJackson does not wholly understand the role of discipline in maintaining order in the lifestyle of the warrior."

Isn't that the understatement of the century? Daniel is an outside observer of a culture the rest of them, to some extent, grew up in. The problem is, that he isn't content with an observer role like most of the other civilians in the program. so they're going to have to figure out how to find the common ground, and fast. Jack swipes a towel over his hair, not sure what to say, but it seems to be enough for Teal'c to have said his piece, and he slips a BDU top on over his t-shirt and walks out. 

That's when Daniel emerges from the showers, heading straight for his locker, with only the very briefest of pauses when he sees that Jack has taken a seat on the bench right behind their side-by-side lockers to put on his socks and shoes. "We're off until Monday," Jack offers, and Daniel gives a soft 'hmm' of reply. It doesn't take long to realize he's stalling, not turning back around even after he's mostly dressed. Jack gets up, moving across the room to throw his towel in the hamper and give him a little more space, and is rewarded when Daniel turns around and looks at him. "You ready to go?" Jack asks.

"Go?" Daniel parrots, eyes averted. 

"We can find a place to have this conversation on base if you really want," Jack says, "or we can get out of here and do it at my place, with more privacy and more comfort. Your choice." That he's out of chances to procrastinate and there is not going to be a third option goes unsaid. 

The standoff only lasts about thirty seconds, but Jack would have been prepared to outwait him for much longer. Daniel sighs, turning back around to his locker with his shoulders hunched. "We could just forget about it," he mutters. 

Oh, how Jack wishes that were the case. "Grab your bag, let's go." He walks back over and takes Daniel's towels over to the hamper himself to hurry him along as the other man stretches out putting on his shoes and jacket for longer than Jack imagined was possible before finally picking up his bag and turning to Jack, who puts an arm over his shoulder. Mutual support for both of them and hey, if it keeps the kid from running he'll take that too. He gives Daniel a quick squeeze as he steers him out the door - it's going to be okay, we're going to figure this out, we've both been through worse.

--------

It's too late by the time they make it back to his house to consider making real food for dinner. "Pizza or Chinese?" he asks Daniel as they get out of the truck, but all he gets in response is a shrug. Jack waves him off to go dump his stuff in the guest room and then gets on the phone to the closest Chinese place that will deliver, before grabbing two beers and heading into the living room. 

Daniel's staring out the back window, arms already wrapped around himself. Jack knocks one bottle gently against his elbow and then pops the top off and sets it within easy reach on the mantle nearby before retreating, planting himself on one end of the couch. They settle into a contemplative silence, broken only by Daniel's occasional furtive glances in his direction that he can't read. Jack lets himself take about three good pulls of his beer before he sets it on the table in front of him and leans forward, hands loosely spread. 

"Alright, just lay it on me. How did I mess up, Daniel?"

"Um," Daniel looks up and then down again, picking up the beer seemingly just for something to fidget with. He opens his mouth several times, but each time he closes it again without starting a single sentence. The urge to shout is overwhelming, but Jack digs deep into his reserves and rakes a hand through his hair instead. 

"Fine, let's just start at the beginning. You signed a pretty specific contract when you signed up to work for the Air Force, you remember that?"

A nod.

"Did you read it?"

"Of course I did!"

"So you're well aware of the expectations, and the possible consequences of failing to follow those expectations, including the use of corporal punishment?" At that, he gets the first hint of what he would consider 'old' Daniel that he's seen in days; the younger man's chin lifts just a little bit and there's this distinctive set to his jaw that Jack just knows means he's winding himself up to an argument. 

"Actually, the expectations in the civilian contract are pretty vague," Daniel says. "I don't think-"

That's the argument he's going with right now? Jack thinks, incredulous. He lets a little bit of ice creep into his tone when he interrupts him. "Who does your contract say you should defer to, if you have questions about the expectations?"

"My commanding officer, but as a civilian-"

Yeah, they're not going to even go down that road today, not if he can help it. He has a feeling that Daniel hiding behind his identity 'as a civilian' is part of why they're in this mess. He interrupts him again. "Did I leave you in any doubt as to my expectations regarding you touching things off-world, Daniel?"

"...no." He's flushed bright red, and ducks his chin and turns his face away from Jack, but that's ok. His ears still work fine. 

"So. I warned you plenty of times about touchin' stuff. So did Hammond for that matter. It seems to be going in one ear and out the other, or else you've just decided you know better, because on that last mission, you went and did it again." Daniel doesn't say anything, though he takes another drink of the beer in his hand and doesn't look up, so Jack goes on. "Since asking wasn't working, and telling wasn't working, and I'm not willing for you to get yourself killed, we moved on to a physical consequence and deterrent."

"And now we've got a problem. Because you signed the paperwork that said you were okay with it. And after I spanked you, before I left your office, you said you were fine. But that's a damn lie, Daniel, because now you're afraid of me, and you weren't before." To the casual observer, nothing much probably changed, but Jack's got an eagle eye on his archaeologist. His shoulders have gone all up by his ears, and he's gone from slightly-embarrassed-stiff to ramrod-straight-scared-stiff. "And don't come back at me with semantics about it, being afraid of me hitting you is the same as being afraid of me right now."

"I'm not afraid of you," Daniel forces out, but his voice is as brittle as a new ice.

The doorbell rings, and Daniel jumps hard enough to slosh beer over his hand from his still mostly full bottle. Jack presses the heel of one hand against his eyes and stands up. 

"Okay, time out. We both need to eat." He goes to get the food, tips the delivery person, and grab some plates from the kitchen before toting it all back to the living room and spreading it out on the coffee table. "Come on, come sit down and eat something." He collapses back down on his end of the couch and Daniel tentatively comes over and perches at the other end, but doesn't take any food until Jack gets tired of waiting and puts some things he knows the kid likes on a plate and practically shoves it into his hands. 

After inhaling the first few mouthfuls to just get something into his stomach, Jack makes a conscious effort to slow down. Daniel is eating, but only about one bite for every three of Jack's, so the longer he can make the meal last the more the kid'll eat. He gets up at one point to get another beer, and a glass of water for Daniel, and when he sits back down, Daniel finally seems to summon some sort of nerve, even if he does speak down into his plate. 

"You took me by surprise," he murmurs.

That doesn't make any sense in or out of context. Jack had explained what he was doing pretty much each step of the way. "What?" he says, feeling lost.

"I didn't think you...did that," Daniel clarifies, but of course, that doesn't clear anything up at all, which he must see when he shoots the briefest of glances at Jack, who is staring at him in bewilderment. "I watched in the beginning, to see who..." Daniel bites his lip for a minute, "but I never saw you punish anyone, not even when other officers would for the same thing. And you never mentioned it, and nobody ever talked about...they gossip you know, like watercooler talk about who to avoid, and you were never mentioned. So I just..." he shrugs, shredding a piece of now-abandoned chicken on his plate into tiny pieces absently, "I thought you wouldn't do it."

"Daniel, I'm second in command of the base!" Daniel blinks at him, brow furrowed in confusion. "Do you see Hammond going around handing out paddlings in the mess hall?" 

"Well....no..."

"Yeah, no, and for the same reason you don't see me doing it. It'd be complete overkill. For that matter, when was the last time you saw someone above the rank of Captain punish someone in public?" He pauses, but doesn't really expect an answer and he doesn't get one. "Normally, If we get to the point where I am having to take someone to task, it's a big deal and it's happening in private. You're different. You're my responsibility, directly, because you're on my team."

"You still never..." Daniel sets his plate away, on the table, and picks up the glass of water instead, though to swirl not to drink. 

"Of course I don't talk about it - would you want me to talk about you?"

A shake of his head, but his ears haven't come down from around his shoulders, and that can't be all of it. Jack would love for that to be all of it, that was easy, but that just doesn't account for the level of fear he's been encountering. If Daniel had been a little jumpy, a little more cautious for a few days, that would have been an appropriate response to 'being surprised'. This? This was something else. Something his teammate isn't done chewing on. He picks up both of their plates and stands up, leaving Daniel alone with his thoughts long enough to scrape leftovers into the trash and shove containers in the fridge before he comes back, glancing at the clock on the mantle before looking down at the man on the couch. 

"You ready to tell me the rest of it, or do I need to go make coffee?"

"It's..." Daniel has to look past Jack, and does a visible double take, "9:45, Jack."

"Yep," crossing his arms over his chest, he props himself up in the doorway. "But we're not going anywhere until we're done, so if I need to make coffee, let me know. I probably could wrangle a hot chocolate instead, if you're worried about the late hour," he teases the last. 

No response again, unless he wants to count Daniel running a finger along the rim of his glass as he drops his gaze back to his lap. He holds in a sigh by pure force of will. "What was it about me doing it that was so awful, then? I know you've got nothing on your record with the Air Force, that would always have had to have gone through me, but you came from Academia. You've been spanked before, how'd your professors handle it?" Jack starts to chuckle, thinking this will be a shared experience that will put them back on more equal footing, but when he looks over it dies in his throat at the way Daniel's grip has gone white-knuckled on his glass and he's pressed himself away, back towards the arm of the couch. 

"Daniel," he says very slowly, "was that your first time?"