"Son, you haven't left me with a lot of options."

He doesn't have anything to say that he doesn't think would make the situation worse, so Daniel says nothing, just stares at the surface of the General's desk and wishes he could disappear. On the one hand, he's incredibly grateful that everyone else has left, no longer witness to his shame, but on the other, the oppressive quiet that stretches now without even the minute sound of people shifting and breathing is horrendous.

"If one of my soldiers had shown this level of blatant disregard for orders and chain of command on a mission, I'd be busting them down several ranks, on top of whatever other punishments their CO felt were appropriate. And if it had come from almost any other non-military person on the base, they would no longer work here."

George pauses, and the weight of it feels like he's waiting for a response. Daniel summons the only response he thinks is appropriate, though his mouth is as dry as his beloved desert. "Y-yes, Sir."

"Furthermore, regarding the recklessness and sheer disregard you've taken with your own life and well-being in the process, I would normally level some additional physical consequences to discourage repeat behavior."

Daniel blinks, and swallows heavily. "General..." his voice fails him at that, though the roiling in his stomach just intensifies. He and Jack have come to a tentative, teetering agreement about the Airforce's corporal punishment policies, a line they walk carefully and with a whole lot of lifelines installed, but the very idea of finding himself at someone else's mercy for such a punishment makes him feel nauseous. And it's not even that he doesn't like George - he does love and trust their commander! - and yet...and yet. His heart is racing, and his head spins. Across the desk, the General sighs, sitting forward in his chair.

"Yes, I know," he says, voice gentle somehow despite how displeased he still sounds, "and I know Colonel O'Neill is gone for some time yet. Which is why I feel our options are so limited."

"General..." Daniel says, his voice small, "I don't- I mean, I know that I was totally out of line, but, Sir...I don't- I don't think I can..."

"I know," the General repeats, and something in his voice, or maybe it's the look on his face, finally gives Daniel the courage to look him in the eye. "Son, take a breath." Daniel's body obeys, on autopilot, even if it's a shaky one. "I am not going to use a physical punishment this time around. If the Colonel were here, I'd give him the task and leave the both of you to it, but he isn't. And I'm not saying I won't ever, but this is too serious an infraction to start with, and now is not the right time."

Daniel nods, a shaky jerk of his head, and they sit a moment with his uneven breathing filling the air before he manages a deeper breath and says quietly, "What then....?"

The General drums his fingers on the desk, his frown deepening. "That's where you have a choice," he says seriously. "You're a civilian, Dr. Jackson. So if you want to go the official route, I will write this up as what it was in the eyes of the Air Force, blatant defiance of orders in the field and reckless behavior that endangered yourself and others, and based on your contract, you can take the month's unpaid, off-base suspension of duties that goes with it. It would go in your permanent record. Now you're damn important to this program, and it certainly wouldn't jeopardize your work in the labs, but I make no promises that under a future, different commander that sort of record wouldn't jeopardize your ability to be sent into the field."

He's speechless for a moment; yes, he knew he was wrong, he knew his actions were serious but....having it laid out like that makes it so much worse. "What's my other choice?" he murmurs when he catches his breath.

"Your other choice is we take care of it unofficially and, pardon my lack of a better term son, but you're grounded for that month instead. For the first two weeks, you'll be restricted to your quarters. You may not work, you'll have limited visitors, and your food will be brought to you. After the first two weeks, you can resume your normal duties on-base, but no fieldwork for the remainder of the month. It doesn't go on your record, slate is clean when we're done."

The thought of having a mark on his record for the rest of his career, which some faceless uniform in the future could use to prevent him from going off-world, is untenable. The idea of spending two weeks in his quarters, essentially imprisoned, is not much better, but he doesn't pretend to dither. One is survivable - one would not be. "I'll take the second option," he forces out, "t-thank you, Sir, for..." he spreads his hands, and gives a helpless little shrug. "And for what it's worth...I'm sorry."

"I hope you use some of the time to think about how important you are to people around here, myself included, and what it would do to the people you care about if you die being reckless and stupid." The General says bluntly. Daniel hangs his head again, knowing he's flushed with hot embarrassment again as George continues. "That month is going to start immediately. If there is anything you need to be taken care of at your home, or anything you need brought to base, make a list. I'll send Major Carter tomorrow."

Daniel just nods, a little shell-shocked.

"Very well, you're dismissed. The airman outside will escort you to your quarters." Daniel stands, numb, and moves towards the door. Just as he reaches it, the General calls out, "And, Daniel?"

"Sir?" He looks back.

"I'm beyond glad you made it back to us in one piece."

--------

The first two weeks are horribly, unendingly tedious; but Daniel is painfully aware that they could have been so much worse. To begin with, Hammond didn't put him in the actual brig; he might essentially be on house arrest, but he's in a comfortable room, not a jail cell. He's not allowed to work, but nobody took any of his belongings he already had in his quarters. Meals are delivered hot and on time, and edible; they're even usually things he would have selected for himself. Breakfast and lunch he's left to eat quietly on his own, but he's allowed a daily visitor over dinner. And when his friends come to visit, they bring other small things for him to do. Nothing outrageous, but when someone comes for what seems to be the allotted half-hour of human interaction, they are rarely empty-handed. Teal'c brings him DVDs from his collection, Sam brings him puzzle books, and Janet brings him new novels. Walter brings him a puzzle, Ferretti brings him a deck of cards, and Siler brings him a box of those wooden brain teasers. And George has either allowed it or is turning a blind eye, because he must notice, since he takes the time to personally deliver Daniel's breakfast every morning and to chat briefly.

At first, Daniel feels mortified that the General thinks he needs this daily check-in, but it's hard to resist the General's easy, genuine care for his well-being. Still, two weeks is a long time, and he's starting to go stir-crazy by the end. He would have made a terrible monk, and thinking back on it, probably a terrible long-term academic. He needs to be in the field. God, why does he keep jeopardizing that with his own stupid choices?

He's trying to be a good sport about it, especially considering his other options, but the day the door opens at an unexpected time is a particularly bad one. It's been a miserable night, plagued by nightmares, and the morning has dragged by. He's initially startled to have the door open at a time that isn't scheduled for a meal, and then so relieved to see Jack's familiar face that he can't contain the rush of emotion, and is suddenly overcome by a blur of tears, throwing himself at his friend.

"Whoa!" Jack yelps, startled, but he recovers quickly and gathers Daniel into a rough hug. "Hey, what's all this? Hammond said you were doing fine,"

"I'm just...I wasn't expecting you." Daniel chokes out, and then laughs a little hysterically at himself. "Sorry, god, I'm sorry, it's just been..."

Jack gives him a gentle shove and guides him to the bed. "Yeah, okay. Sit down and take a breath. Here." He shoves a bag at him. Daniel wipes his face on his sleeve and reaches in to find a big bag of chocolate-covered coffee beans, and the dam breaks all over again.

"I'm- god, I'm sorry."

"You're fine," Jack soothes and squeezes his shoulder. "I gotcha. Breathe."

They sit together in silence for a bit, Daniel's head against Jack's shoulder, while the Colonel waits patiently for him to calm down. It doesn't take as long as he expects, and once he's breathing normally again, Jack gets up and grabs a box of tissue, moving it within reach.

"How're you feeling?" he asks, yanking a couple of tissues out of the box. Daniel accepts them gratefully as he thinks about his answer.

"Well, I'm bored out of my skull, and the first week was a nightmare, but...I feel pretty lucky, I guess."

"Hm." Jack agrees, humming non-committedly, and the look that settles on his face is not a happy expression. "Lucky is pretty accurate."

Daniel's stomach clenches, and he slowly puts both chocolate and tissues aside. "Sorry," he whispers. "I just, I know it's no more than I deserve- but I didn't- I don't- I-" he can't finish the sentence, the words dying on his tongue, but Jack is a smart man, and he understands, even if he shakes his head.

"There are no buts, Daniel. I have to be honest with you; I'm really tempted to turn you over my knee right now. "

"Not fair!" Daniel protests, and the anger that flares up surprises him. "I've been sitting here for almost two weeks, alone, thinking about all the things that could have gone wrong, and the people I could have gotten hurt! You're the one who taught me that actions have consequences, Jack. This is the consequence, and I accepted it, and I still have more than two weeks of consequences after this. I'm paying the price, and I've had a lot of time to think about it." He knows he's red-faced and trembling, and that only fuels the fire. "So, no. No, that's not fair."

Jack is more then skeptical. "You're paying up your consequences to General Hammond, but you broke my rules and promises to me too."

"That's like double jeopardy!" Daniel glares at him, jumping to his feet and pulling away. "You weren't here, and the General and I decided on an alternate consequence, and he made sure it would be one that would be hard. I shouldn't have to get spanked too. A-and if you're just here to be mean, you can leave, or you can take it up with him." he demands, "Because I'm tired, and I'm sick of these four walls, and I don't need this right now!"

He was so relieved to see Jack. All this time, as much as he appreciated his other friends, he thought if he just had Jack's support it would be that tiny smidgeon easier. It hurts, to get this instead.

Jack holds his gaze steadily, and his face softens just a fraction at the desperate rise of Daniel's voice at the end. "No, Danny, I'm here to help. And to tell you how sorry I am that I wasn't here for the whole month." He grabs Daniel's hand and pulls him back down to the bed, running one hand briefly up and down his arm, while Daniel takes an uneven breath. "I missed you, and I'm sorry I wasn't here."

"I missed you too," Daniel mumbles.

"But," the hand that had been rubbing warmth back into his arm leaves his torso abruptly and Jack grabs his chin, forcing him to meet his eyes.

"B-but?"

"I want it on the record that I think you're feeling guilty about what happened, and this isn't going to clear the air completely. So if you change your mind, let me know."

"Thanks, Jack, but no," he says in reply to that, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He made his bed and, even though he feels like it's not entirely fair that he has to lie in it for a whole month, he's certainly not going to ask for a spanking on top of it. As if! This is what he and the General had agreed on, so once he's served his time, everything will be fine.