Shoeprint
(#3 in Shoelaces LD universe)
by Jennamajig

SUMMARY: Daniel and Jack try to deal with Daniel being little Daniel. Inspired by the DJsSG-1Lverse yahoo list.

SEASON/SPOILERS: None.

DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

He lined up the car for its target. Perfect. He pulled back, then shoved the tiny piece of metal on wheels across the coffee table.

Bulls eye! It hit the sneaker and tipped it over...

"Daniel."

...Straight into the paperwork Jack was trying to complete.

"Sorry," he muttered, retrieving the car and shoe. He fiddled with the shoe's Velcro strap, antsy.

Jack was filling out adoption paperwork.

It had been almost three months since his sudden transformation and last week the hope that they'd find someone to reverse this had been completely stifled. The Tokra were useless. Then Thor beamed his little self in and regretfully informed them that his change could not be overturned by any Asguard technology.

He'd blinked, both in disbelief and at the fact that he was actually shorter than the small alien.

When Thor had left, he'd gotten up and shoved the phonebook he'd needed to sit on to reach the top of briefing table on the floor, and plopped down in tears. Then he'd been angry at himself for reacting such a way and that only prompted more tears.

It simply wasn't fair.

Jack's hug helped, but the reassurances that "things would be okay" were old and tired, and even Jack sounded old and tired as he said them. So he didn't. Sam did, Janet did, even Teal'c tried. Jack simply held him and rubbed his back, letting him soak the shoulder of his uniform jacket. Hammond patted his head and excused himself, gently reminding Jack of talk of plans for the future.

The future. He'd be left somewhere, he was sure, while Jack, the General, Janet, everyone but him, discussed *his* future.

But it didn't happen that way. Jack let him cry himself out till he was so tired that he found himself snuggling into the folds of Jack's jacket. Felt Jack shift his weight as lifted him up and walked out of the briefing room. He'd drifted off somewhere in between because when he woke up, he was in still in Jack's arms. But Jack was sitting on the couch in the back of his archaeology lab.

No, correction, the "other" Daniel's archaeology lab.

He could see the messy groups of uncategorized artifacts, and oddly enough the computer was turned on, its familiar Egyptian screensaver blinking away, as if he'd simply left it on overnight.

"We need to talk." Jack's voice was soft, and he reached a hand up to stroke Daniel's now blond hair.

"There's nothing to talk about." His voice still sounded small. He'd never gotten used to it. He supposed he was going to have to. He shifted, kicking his foot out and stared down at the Velcro sneakers on his feet. He'd barely gotten used to needing them. Yes, they had been the first step, but there were still many more to climb.

He lifted his thumb up to his mouth, biting so hard on it he thought he may have drawn blood.

"Daniel." Jack's hand was there, pulling his thumb out, and stroking it, as if he knew about the pain, both physical and otherwise.

He sighed. "I know."

"Fraiser's been helping with the paperwork. I won't let anyone else have you."

"I know," he repeated. His five-year-old mind was secretly delighted. His thirty-eight-year-old brain was screaming. He hadn't needed anyone to take care of him before, he certainly didn't need anyone now.

But he made no move to leave Jack's lap. He was a walking contradiction and may remain that way for the rest of his life.

Which now, was going to take considerably longer.

"We still need you. Hammond and I will work on a way to sort out the details, but even though you don't feel like it, this is your lab. You are still Daniel Jackson." Jack took his chin and met his eyes. "Don't you ever forget that. The SGC isn't abandoning you." He paused.

"I'm not abandoning you."

"It's not the same." No one would listen to five-year-old. Especially one that corrected a translation and then went back to his Matchbox car set.

"I know," Jack answered. "But we're family. That doesn't change."

Daniel blinked, and nodded.

Since that moment, there had been an avalanche of paperwork and discussions. Much to his surprise, Jack didn't have one meeting with Hammond or Fraiser where Daniel himself wasn't present. And despite the fact that his mind often wandered due the apparent shrink of his attention span, he appreciated the adult sentiment more than he could ever express. He may not be able to tie his shoes, but a small piece of the former Dr. Daniel Jackson remained and he wanted to hold on to it. It was all he had left of that part of his life.

More paperwork proved that. Dr. Daniel Jackson, to the majority of the world was gone, expired. In his place was an awkward, small for his age, allergy and asthma plagued, genius five-year-old who vaguely resembled him. At least on paper.

But paperwork wasn't fun.

Hence the current sneaker-car launch.

He pulled the Velcro strap again, the sound loud in the suddenly quiet room. He heard a sigh from Jack.

"Sorry," he said again. Fear crept into his voice. The five-year-old psyche was fragile he was learning all over again.

"Stop apologizing. Though I have told you that sneakers stay *off* the furniture, remember?"

"Sor-" he started, then stopped himself. Jack grinned.

"Some things don't change, you know. You're still a troublemaker." Jack put down his pen. "Come here. There's something I want you to look at."

He left the shoe and walked the short distance to Jack's end of the coffee table. "Okay..." He wasn't sure what he was looking at.

"Here." Jack pointed. "Your name."

He leaned down. "First name," he read. "Daniel. Last name...it's blank. Jack, you know my last name." He looked up at his guardian.

"Do I?" Jack asked, eyes serious. Daniel blinked, cursing when he felt wetness caress his eyelids. Damn it, all he did was cry.

Jack reached above his head for one of the tissue boxes he had placed all over his home long before Daniel had been changed. He handed it over.

His short arm stabbed it toward his eye.

"I am adopting you, Danny," Jack stated. "I told you, we're a family." Jack picked up the pen and took the hand sans tissue and placed the pen in it. "It's your choice."

It was his choice. Jack had been so understanding, he often wondered how the man didn't fall into a million pieces like he did so often.

No, wait, he knew why.

Daniel needed him. And now he saw Jack needed him, wanted him as well. So much that he was ready to imprint it across a million sheets of paper. And like a shoe print in cement, it would be permanent.

It was another step.

Sniffling, he reached his hand across the paper. He, very shakily, drew an "o" that was almost illegible.

That looked like a five-year-old wrote it.

He hiccupped, extended the pen to Jack and Jack let out a laugh. He took the pen and finished the word he'd started. He turned the page back Daniel's way.

Daniel O'Neill.

"Whatcha think? Last chance to change it."

It was perfect. He sniffed. Jack took the now crumbled tissue from his hand.

"Good. It's done then. So I'm thinking we drop it off, pick up Teal'c and Carter, and go get some ice cream in celebration."

"Chocolate," he said.

Jack stood up, knees cracking. He patted Daniel's head. "You got it." He picked up the stray sneaker from the floor. "Now where's your other shoe?"

Now he could say it was truly the beginning.

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