Work Text:
Sunny Christmas
Team SG-1 was on leave for the Christmas holidays, and everyone was busy.
Samantha Carter was traveling with her family for a skiing trip, and Teal’c had been invited to celebrate his first Christmas with Daniel at Jack’s house.
Daniel did not want to celebrate. The proper celebrations were during his childhood with his parents. After losing them, he lost the holiday with them. That time was always difficult.
Daniel woke up on Christmas morning, remembering his beautiful, warm dream — his wife was in his arms until he remembered reality.
He got up quickly, wanting his journal to write a little and organize his thoughts and feelings. His eyes fell on the handmade notebook, and he touched it but did not dare to pick it up and open it.
It was a notebook made in Abydos because his old one had been filled. He had made it larger to teach Sha’uri to write, so some pages were neatly arranged while others were nearly illegible.
Today, he didn’t need the notebook; he needed his wife. A cup of coffee was poured, and he sat on his sofa to drink it quietly. Resting his head back and closing his eyes, he tried to return to his dream, or last year on Abydos.
The pale winter light crept through the window, painting golden squares on the carpet, as he let the warm coffee smell rise. Daniel tried to remember the dream’s details before forgetting them. He recalled her laugh, her hand in his, and her sparkling eyes. The actual memories were stronger, and more painful.
Daniel raised the cup to his lips, but the coffee had lost its taste. Toward the notebook, it resided soundlessly upon the wooden table, a silent witness to existence prior, affection filled every part of him. How he wished he could regain just one moment, a moment like these quiet mornings, to sit beside her and share a warm silence with her.
He recalled winter, when he occupied Abydos’ warm sun, desert environs during that period. The evening winds, relatively warm, blew on the rough cloth curtains of their hut. Daniel, still cautiously navigating the path of newlywed happiness, watched Sha’uri as she ground some grains for dinner. She did it with beautiful, rhythmic grace, as if dancing with the stone.
Inside their Abydonian hut, firelight flickered. Daniel Jackson, a former archaeologist, now Abydonian warrior, prepared herbal tea for himself and his wife.
"Sha’uri..." he began, then stopped. How could he convey Christmas, here, removed from all that he recognized?
"Yes, my husband?" she said, smiling, still savoring the word "my husband" as if it were a new kind of candy.
"In my world, Earth, this time of year is very special," Daniel began as he sat beside her on the embroidered rug. "It's a time called Christmas Day."
Sha’uri, with her renowned intelligence and eyes brimming with curiosity, turned her face to him, interested as usual.
"What does that mean?"
"Christmas Day essentially means the day we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, who is God, on the twenty-fifth of December. He is an important religious figure."
He saw her curiosity ignite. Sha’uri said to her husband:
"Christmas… the word feels strange on my tongue. You say it's the birthday of the god… Jesus?"
Daniel moved closer to her, trying to explain, knowing she might reject the idea entirely given her general aversion to the concept of gods.
"Yes… the birth of Jesus Christ. In Bethlehem. I know it sounds strange… a god choosing to be born as a baby among humans."
She thought for a moment, then her face lit up with a sudden understanding, and she exclaimed: "All the false gods I have known assumed human form as a mask." She looked at him as if waiting for confirmation.
He was surprised by her analogy and gently touched her hand.
"That may be true in the case of Ra… but, Sha’uri , Jesus is the Lord of life, and His power is above death. His coming into the world… is a reminder that divine love descended to our world. We celebrate warmth, family, and giving."
He wanted her to see the difference. "My love…" Then his gaze met hers, and he said quietly: "He didn't wear humanity… He became human."
"So, this day you celebrate," Sha’uri finally said, "is not about power."
He shook his head in denial, moved even closer, his love for her growing as he held her hand. "Your god seems kinder…"
"Yes, He is…" Daniel said, embracing her, then continued: "This…"
"How do you celebrate? Tell me everything!" she interrupted him with gentle enthusiasm.
He took a deep breath and began to tell her: about the snow in Colorado, about the Christmas tree he used to decorate with his parents in his childhood, about the biscuits and cakes his mother would bake for him in Egypt.
"I used to sometimes hang stockings on the mantelpiece!" he said, laughing, gesturing with his hands as he imagined the scene before him.
"Stockings? And why?" Sha’uri asked, astonished.
"They used to say Santa—a mythical man—puts gifts in them."
Sha’uri looked at her patched stockings on the clothesline, then at the simple stone hearth in the corner of the hut. “But our fireplace isn’t suitable for this! And what sensible man puts candy in dirty stockings?”
Daniel burst out laughing. “I never thought about it that way!”
“Do you miss those days?” Sha’uri asked him with a hint of sadness in her eyes.
“Actually, I didn’t miss them as much as I imagined,” Daniel answered honestly, holding her hand. “Because I discovered that the essence of these holidays isn’t the snow, nor the lights, nor even the gifts.”
“What is the essence then?”
“It’s love, Sha’uri. It’s being with the one you love, sharing warmth and stories with them. Showing your appreciation for them. At Christmas, we would exchange stories, sing together, prepare special meals... much like what we do here every day.”
Sha’uri laughed, her voice soft like the murmur of water. “So we celebrate ‘Christmas’ every day on Abydos!”
“Exactly!” Daniel laughed with her. “But let me tell you about the craziest and funniest Christmas tradition. There was a legendary character named ‘Santa Claus,’ who puts candy in stockings — a fat old man dressed in red, who rides a sleigh pulled by animals called ‘reindeer,’ and flies through the sky!”
Sha’uri raised an eyebrow, incredulous. “He flies? Like... Goa’uld ships?”
“Yes! And they say he enters houses through the chimneys — those are openings in the roof for smoke to escape — and leaves gifts for children.”
“That’s completely impractical!” Sha’uri said, laughing. “Why doesn’t he use the door like any sensible person? And what if the fireplace is lit?”
“Excellent questions!” Daniel laughed until tears welled in his eyes. “I think children didn’t think too much about logic. The magic was what mattered.”
Then he added in a more serious tone, “But my favorite tradition was ‘exchanging gifts.’ Not the gifts themselves, but the thought of what might please the other person. I remember once spending hours choosing a gift for a friend, only to discover he had bought me the same thing! Before he graduated from university and traveled for his job.” He placed his hand on her cheek and touched her tenderly. “And here, on Abydos, I found the greatest possible gift.”
Sha’uri looked at him with a question in her eyes.
“You,” he said simply. “Your presence in my life was a gift I didn’t deserve. Every day with you is a holiday for me.”
Sha’uri’s cheeks flushed under the glow of the fire. “You are also a gift, Daniel. You came to us from among the stars to become my entire world.”
Moved by Sha’uri’s love for him, Daniel said to her, “Before I met you, I sometimes felt lonely during these holidays. Especially after I grew up and... lost my family.”
Sha’uri touched his hand. “But you are not alone now. You have a family here. You have... me.”
He looked at her, his eyes shining in the firelight. “That’s true. And I wanted to... celebrate together. In our own way.”
He got up and brought a few strange things from behind their bed.
“What is this?” Sha’uri asked.
“This is our ‘Christmas tree,’” he said. He had gathered some dry branches and tied them together in an almost conical shape. Then he took small things from his pocket: smooth colored stones, beautiful bird feathers, a string of handmade beads he had bought from the village market.
“Help me decorate it.”
Hesitant at first, then with growing enthusiasm, Sha’uri began hanging the feathers. “On Abydos, blue feathers bring good luck,” she said, choosing a light blue feather to place at the top of the “tree.”
Daniel hung the stones. “And on Earth, hanging ornaments symbolize optimism and joy.”
After an hour, they stood looking at their creation: a dry branch covered with small treasures from two different worlds. It didn’t look like any Christmas tree Daniel had ever seen before, but it was more beautiful than all of them.
“But we don’t have snow!” Sha’uri remembered.
“Wait,” Daniel said and went out for a moment, returning with a bowl of white foam from a local plant. Gently, he put a little on her nose. “Abydos snow!”
Sha’uri laughed and put some on his blond hair. “And now you have ‘snow’ too!”
They laughed so much they were out of breath. “And now...” Daniel said, blindfolding himself with a piece of cloth. “Another tradition: exchanging gifts. But the Christmas rule says we must open them in the morning. So I’ll give you a promise.”
“A promise?”
“Yes. My gift to you this year is a promise. A promise that I will teach you the language of my planet, every word, every letter. So that one day you can read all the books here and write your own.”
There was a short silence, then Sha’uri’s tears began to fall silently.
“Sha’uri?...”
She smiled, quickly wiping her tears. “It’s the most beautiful gift. Because it means that you... you want to share your roots with me. That you’re showing me where you come from.”
Then she took a deep breath. “And I also... have a promise for you. A promise that I will teach you all the secrets of Abydos, every story about our ancestors, every song from our land. So you feel that your roots have also extended here.”
Daniel hugged her tightly, feeling his heart was about to burst with fullness. This was what real Christmas meant: not reclaiming the past, but building new traditions. Not longing for a lost homeland, but creating a home with the one you love.
That night, as they sat under the Abydos-Earth hybrid “tree,” Daniel sang her the first Christmas song she had ever heard in her life. It was a simple song about peace and love. And after he finished, Sha’uri began to sing him an ancient Abydonian song about two stars that met in the sky after a long journey and decided to shine together forever.
In the morning, when they woke up, Daniel found beside his pillow a small piece of cloth embroidered in a primitive but clear way: a picture of a Stargate, next to it a small house, and a thread connecting them. It was Sha’uri’s first attempt to write the word “family” in Earth’s language, using a needle, thread, and a feeling that needed no translation.
It was her first gift to him on the first Christmas they spent together. And he needed no snow, no bells, not even Santa Claus to tell him that, for the first time in many years, he was celebrating Christmas in his real home.
His home phone rang, pulling him back from his memories.
Daniel sighed slowly, as if being torn from Abydos to his cold reality was a physically painful act, then he lazily reached out and answered, expecting the caller. “Hello…”
“Daniel.” Jack’s familiar voice came through, warmer than usual. “Good morning… or let me be precise: Merry Christmas.”
Daniel was silent for a moment longer than he should have been. He looked at the emptiness in front of him, at the winter light, at the cup where his coffee had gone cold, then said quietly and sincerely: “Good morning, Jack.”
“Daniel, are you still asleep?” Jack asked.
Daniel sighed with a slight smile. “No, no, I’m awake. I was just... thinking about something.”
“Alright,” Jack said and continued, “You said you’re bringing the mac and cheese; don’t forget. I’m not cooking anything except the turkey and vegetables.”
Daniel stammered a little in his speech. “Oh, Jack, I really appreciate the invitation, really, but I don’t—”
“Don’t try to get out of it,” Jack said in a tone Daniel knew well, one that meant the plan was set, and the discussion was over. Then Jack added in a lighter tone: “And I think you owe me at least a bad movie and hot chocolate. Merry Christmas, Daniel.”
He hung up before giving him a chance to refuse.
Daniel decided to go shopping at Costco to get the mac and cheese, as he had no intention of cooking.
...But what he discovered ten minutes after entering Costco was total ignorance. Daniel stood in front of a wall-length shelf of mac and cheese. Dozens of boxes of different sizes and strange mixes.
He muttered to himself: “I’m an archaeologist... I studied extinct languages... but this? This is a complete pasta civilization.”
He took the first box, then put it back. He took a second and read the ingredients, didn’t understand everything written, frowned, and put it back. He didn’t understand why, but after an additional ten minutes, he ended up with a cart containing: three boxes of mac and cheese (for unclear scientific reasons), garlic bread, cranberry juice, ready-made hot chocolate, marshmallows, something resembling a Santa hat (given to him by a child)... and even knowing Jack’s house wasn’t lacking, he also brought beer.
He arrived in front of the house; the decorations were visible but not lit during the day. Upon entering the house, Jack O’Neill was standing in the living room surrounded by tangled strings of lights, staring at them as if they were a puzzle from a hostile civilization. Teal’c was standing in front of the Christmas tree, staring at it with the focus of a warrior assessing a strange weapon.
Teal’c asked in a dry, quiet voice: “O’Neill… is this plant worshipped?”
Jack replied while trying to untangle the lights: “Worshipped... no, it’s a symbol and something fun for the holiday season, it is just for fun.”
Teal’c approached and touched a red ornament that chimed. “It emits a warning sound.”
Jack laughed: “Just an ornament that plays Christmas music, just a decoration, Teal’c. It’s not a bomb.”
Daniel entered carrying the bags. The house was warm from the heater, the smell was delicious, and Teal’c… was wearing a Santa hat.
Daniel stared and said: “Teal’c? What’s that?” pointing to the hat.
Teal’c replied steadfastly: “O’Neill said wearing this hat increases the spirit of the occasion.”
“It suits you...” Daniel said.
“And it will suit you too... take this...” Jack continued, handing another hat to Daniel.
“Keep it… I already have my own.” He took out the hat he had with him and put it on. Then he continued:
“I brought mac and cheese and a few other things.”
Jack looked inside the bags, then raised his gaze. “Daniel… there’s enough food here for 20 people.”
Daniel smiled sheepishly. “Merry Christmas.”
They finally sat around the table. The turkey… was acceptable. The vegetables were perfectly cooked. The mac and cheese… melted in a suspicious way but was delicious. The garlic bread and cranberry juice matched the flavor perfectly. And Teal’c tasted his first bite in complete silence.
Then he said with dignity: “This… is unexpectedly satisfying.” Jack smiled triumphantly.
After the cups were filled with hot chocolate, Jack announced in a festive tone: “Well… it’s time for the most important part of the evening.” He turned off the lights, leaving only the Christmas tree lights on, then pressed the play button. The title appeared on the screen: *Home Alone (1990)*
Daniel looked at the screen and smiled lightly. “A classic choice.”
“A safe choice,” said Jack as he sat on the sofa wearing his Santa hat.
Teal’c sat straight-backed on the couch, watching with cautious interest. After a few minutes, with Kevin’s first high-pitched scream, Teal’c furrowed his brows. “O’Neill… is this child in real danger?”
Jack replied while sipping his chocolate: “Theoretically? Yeah. Practically? No. He’s smarter than both of them.”
In the next scene, one of the burglars slipped and fell violently. Teal’c twitched slightly. “This human being suffers from a noticeable lack of balance.”
Daniel laughed at Teal’c’s comment. “That’s comedy, Teal’c. The pain here… is hypothetical.”
Teal’c was silent as he watched the traps being set. Then he said with deadly seriousness: “On Chulak, this child would have become a respected leader.”
In another scene, when the burglar screamed after his head caught fire, Teal’c said coolly: “This is not an effective deterrent method… but it is psychologically satisfying.”
This time, Jack choked with laughter: “See? You’re starting to get it.”
A moment of silence passed, then Teal’c asked: “O’Neill… why doesn’t the child contact the security forces immediately?”
Jack replied: “That would have ended the movie in less than ten minutes.”
Teal’c shook his head, as if accepting a strange cosmic logic.
And at the end of the movie, with the family’s return, Teal’c said slowly: “The film lacks realism… but it values defending the home.”
Daniel smiled at the extremely realistic comment and said, burying his hands in the warm cup: “That’s the Christmas message in our own way.”
Jack leaned back and said: “And the most important lesson: don’t mess with a kid home alone.”
Teal’c looked at the tree, then at the cups, then said: “This… is an acceptable Christmas.”
Daniel laughed quietly until Jack got up, grabbed the camera, put it on a tripod, and aimed it to take a picture to show Carter when she returned.
And on that night, just an good movie, hot chocolate, and a house full of comfort. That time was always difficult, except for the year he celebrated the holiday with Sha’uri. As for this year, this Christmas was wonderfully warm, even if different.