"I'm going to kill him." The words were muttered, he thought, under his breath; but the glances thrown his way by both Carter and Teal'c tell him that perhaps he wasn't as quiet as he thought. Teal'c's look is short and then the Jaffa looks away, returning to his intent observation of the path and their surroundings. Carter, on the other hand, turns towards him. 

"I don't think he meant for it to go this far, Sir."

Jack meets her eyes slowly, and can't help but raise an eyebrow. It's not that he's surprised Carter is standing up for Daniel, they're close, but all things considered... "What advice did you give him?"

"Well, I did tell him I thought he should slow down," she admits.

"And what did I tell him?"

She sighs. Point to Jack O'Neill, though at this point, he'd rather forgo the point and turn back time about 24 hours, at which point he'd go ahead and usher his team off this planet before the situation could get to this point. 

'This point' being that Daniel had gone off with the natives - by himself - to look at some runes or writings that he was super interested in, but now he'd been roped into a multi-day ceremony that they couldn't pull him out of without causing an interplanetary incident, and risking the trade deal they'd so carefully been negotiating here for some special mineral deposit Carter and the science folk said they absolutely have to have. So instead of leaving for home in the next couple of hours, as scheduled, they're here for another week, so that Daniel can play some pivotal but poorly explained role in this ceremony. To make matters worse, the natives have admitted that if their rivals catch wind of there being Tau'ri here, they would be in danger; apparently, they're a highly prized commodity on the other side of this little world. 

The icing on the cake, of course, is that Jack had told Daniel in no uncertain terms that he couldn't go see the ruins, it was too risky. Then, Jack left him to watch Carter's back during the last of the negotiations and took Teal'c to break camp and get ready to head home.

He should never have left Daniel with the temptation of those writings hanging over him - Jack should have dragged Daniel along to pack up camp and left Teal'c with Carter. But he'd been eager to get home, and it was going to be twice as fast a task with T than if he'd dragged a tired (and cranky - he wasn't pleased at being denied the chance to see the runes) Daniel out to help him.

"Colonel?" 

It's still weird to hear a nearly-human voice coming out of a face that is...far from human. The native, or Pelski, as they call themselves, pops up from the woods nearby and all three of them swing in that direction instinctively. However, at least they've grown enough used to the aliens' near-silent comings and goings to not automatically raise their weapons. Jack blinks into the round face covered nearly entirely in feathers, trying in vain to decide if this is a stranger or someone they've interacted with before, before giving up and making an inquiring noise. 

"We have prepared the lodging tent where the Light will stay during the ceremony," the Pelski says. "As his Family, you are encouraged to share the Seeker's tent. I will show you the way."

"The Light?" Jack cuts a look at Carter.

"That's what they're calling Daniel's role in the ceremony, Sir." Carter says quickly. "Seeker of the Light."

"Right," Jack hefts his pack up onto his shoulders. "To the Light's tent, then."

In the maze of camouflaged tents and semi-permanent dwellings that the Pelski seem to inhabit in their dense forest, a new and rather grandiose tent has been erected where there used to be green clearing space. It's sky blue, with a tall round center vestibule that reminds Jack of a circus tent, and several smaller connected rooms. Their guide finds the door and holds it open for them with a slight bow, before disappearing itself back into the forest. 

He does a quick visual sweep - the tent is furnished as most of the Pelski dwellings they've visited have been, in mostly wood furniture and lots of textiles, and this outer room seems to have a small cooking area and lots of seating. There are four tapestry-hung doorways around the edge of the tent, and the fifth door to the outside which they had just used. He quickly zeroes in on the most important detail - Daniel is kneeling in the center of the tent, posture mirroring the Pelski who is kneeling opposite him, their heads bent together over a large book that lies open between them. The alien appears to be pointing to a passage on the page, which Daniel is carefully sounding out in the odd language which contains both many sibilant s's and many clicking ck's. He repeats the same passage several times, and it sounds the same to Jack but he supposes it must get better because the Polski finally sits back with a pleased nod.

"Good, Daniel," the alien says, "that was much better. I will leave you to settle in with your family," it's only then that Daniel seems to notice them, looking up in surprise that turns quickly to alarm and then to wariness, "and I will return after the rise of the sun to continue. Remember, you must remain here."

Daniel scrambles to his feet as his companion rises gracefully, and bows over his folded hands as the alien turns towards the door, blinking at the rest of SG-1 through a long stare. Teal'c and Carter have already stepped further inside, and Jack steps out of the being's way as it comes towards him - finally identifying the clothing as male - and opens the tent flap. The Polski steps past silently and moments later, disappears into the forest. Jack doesn't love how quietly they all move, but he's starting to at least get used to it; he doesn't think he'll ever get used to how quickly they can vanish into the trees. It's almost as bad as the Nox. He lets go of the flap and the cloth door swishes shut.

"T, go ahead and do a sweep of this place. Carter, back him up." For the most part, their hosts have been nothing but gracious but they're not taking any chances. Not if some rival tribe is just waiting in the wings to kidnap humans. They drop their stuff near the door and start a clockwise sweep; he turns his gaze back to Daniel, who is looking everywhere but at him. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine,"

He doesn't look up at Jack to respond. He's stripped down to his t-shirt and his BDU pants, which aren't tucked in, and he's barefoot. And looking a little dirty, but, he's here standing under his own power. There's a pretty big cut that Jack can see on one of his biceps, which tells a different story than 'I'm fine', but it doesn't look like it's actively bleeding, and neither are the scrapes he can see anywhere else. "Where's the rest of your gear? Uniform?"

"My gear's in a sleeping room. They took my jacket...I think they wanted to try and repair it, it was torn up pretty badly. My boots are drying over there...and they believe in connection to the earth anyway, so it's better if I leave them off."

"Everything looks fine," Sam says as the other two come out of the final room in their short tour. "There's a room full of books, ceremonial clothes, and artifacts, a bathroom area, and two sleeping areas."

"No other outside doors," Teal'c adds, "an intruder would have to cut through the wall, or come through the door."

"Neat. Carter, grab your med kit and come check out Daniel," Jack allows himself to relax enough to drop his pack, and set his rifle down too, although he keeps it in easy reach as he perches on the edge of a low wooden chair and grabs one of the apple-esque Pelski fruits from a nearby basket. "Daniel, I suggest you start explaining what the hell is going on here."

"Um, well, while Sam was working on the negotiations, they showed me some of their ancient texts, and I was able to piece together some of the bits that they didn't have translations for anymore because the written language is so close to some of Earth's...well...and so one of their elders asked me if I would go look at the Ruins before we left," 

"And you said no, because I'd already told you it was too much of a risk," Jack suggests into the pause. Carter has pushed Daniel down into one of the chairs as well so she can work, cleaning his various injuries and inspecting others, which makes it easy for him to avoid looking over at Jack, but at that, even Daniel can't help but sneak a furtive, guilty glance; but he can't hold Jack's eyes.

"They said it was vital! A lost translation that was specific to this year's Seeking Ceremony."

"So you ignored a direct order, and went off on your own."

"I...I told Sam where we were going," Daniel defends himself weakly, "and I thought it would help with the negotiations. This ceremony is one of their most important traditions, and the instructions for this year were different but lost to time, so if I could translate the ruins like I could the texts we were working on, I thought it would buy Sam even more goodwill. And it did!"

"Are you cut up under your shirt?" the just-mentioned officer interrupts calmly, even as Jack is opening his mouth to say something - he's not sure exactly what - scathing in response. 

"Not really," 

"Daniel, judging by the rest of this, I'd like to take a look-"

"I'm fine!"

"Damn it, Daniel, take your shirt off and let Carter see it," Jack finds himself pushing to his feet as he growls it. Wordlessly, mouth closing in a firm line, their archaeologist pulls his shirt off over his head, revealing just as many scrapes across his back as deep, or deeper, than the ones they saw on his arms. Carter sets to cleaning them immediately with a hiss of sympathy. 

"Daniel, some of these could maybe use a couple of stitches," she says hesitantly. 

"Sam," his voice is shading towards a whine, but he chokes it back to a plea with some difficulty. "They're not that bad."

"Is your role in this ceremony an active one, or more symbolic?"

"It's not a fight to the death, it's a celebration of the sun," Daniel mutters. Sam looks over to Jack, who pinches the bridge of his nose and walks over to take a closer look. He agrees it's not nice, but in this case, he's willing to side with Daniel. Stitches, done by a field medic no less not even by Frasier, would be overkill.

"You're going to let Carter treat you every day," he orders Daniel, coming around to look his civilian in the face. 

"Yeah, Jack."

It should be 'yes, sir', especially when he's already in such deep trouble, but Jack isn't going to push on that right now. Not in front of Carter and Teal'c, and not when he still needs more answers - no reason to make the kid clam up before he gets them. "No stitches." Carter sighs, but gets to work with the bandages and the skin glue instead. "Alright, Daniel, help me understand - how did going to translate some ruins turn into this?"

"Um," he winces, and it's hard to tell if it's because of Jack's question, or Sam hitting a particularly sore spot. "Well, we were on our way back from the ruins and we mighthavemaybefallenintoatrap."

Silence. Jack can't talk because if he opens his mouth, he is going to yell, and he's promised himself that he's going to do better about not yelling at Daniel, after seeing the way it had affected him. It's Teal'c who finally breaks the silence.

"For what was this trap intended, DanielJackson?"

"The Pelski, I guess," Daniel mutters. 

"Or us, Daniel, they told us their rivals would be eager to kidnap humans!" Jack snaps, "And we have no way of telling whether they know we are here or not - which is why I said we were leaving, you weren't going to the ruins, and we weren't coming back without reinforcements!" He's proud that he at least doesn't raise his voice.

"Well I didn't know there would be traps," Daniel responds petulantly, and if there was any question whether he was getting spanked, that seals his fate. 

"I suggest you stop talking before you dig yourself any deeper," he says coolly. "Carter, are you finished?"

She had already started moving quite rapidly when Daniel mentioned the trap, and she's sat back now, peeling off her gloves and packing away supplies with careful, but clear, haste. "Yes, sir. Daniel, don't put that shirt back on, ok, grab a clean one."

Daniel, seeming pretty eager to escape from under Jack's hard gaze anyway, nods and stands up, walking silently over into one of the adjoining rooms. Jack looks at the rest of their team, and finds them looking back at him - Teal'c with his usual impassivity and Sam with worried eyes. "Go...scout the village. Take a walk. Chat with the neighbors," he shrugs, "give us, I don't know, an hour? At least 30 minutes."

Now Carter grimaces, opens her mouth to say something, closes it again, and settles on just looking deeply sympathetic. Teal'c has crossed to the door with a solemn nod and holds it open, and after just a moment more of hesitation, she follows him out with a quiet, "Yes, Sir." In these moments more than ever, he appreciates that he hasn't yet had to take her to task over anything that a few stern words couldn't take care of. Not that he's under any real illusion that will last forever - he's read her service files, including a colorful academy history, and he figures it's only a matter of time. But for now, he's just got Daniel. 

Daniel, whom he has only spanked a handful of times, and since the disastrous first time, always in the relative safety of Jack's own living room or once, in base quarters. Daniel, who had disobeyed a direct order, put himself in danger, and gotten hurt in the process. Daniel, whose current course of action seems to be to hide away in the sleeping room rather than come back out and face Jack's disapproval. Well, he can't avoid it forever.

"Daniel, you have 10 seconds to get out here before I drag you out, and trust me, you're not gonna like that."

The kid emerges quickly, looking miserable, holding a new shirt in his hands that he hasn't put on yet. He hovers near the space between the main tent and the room he'd been in. "Where did Sam and Teal'c go?"

"For a walk" Jack responds flatly and sits down on the long, couch-like seating arrangement. "Put the shirt on, and come here."

"Why?"

Jack doesn't move or speak, just holds out a hand, and Daniel's shoulders slump. He shrugs into the shirt, and with a deep breath, the younger man comes and perches hesitantly next to Jack, just out of convenient reach.

"Can't we wait until we get back?" he pleads.

"A whole week?" Jack scoffs and shakes his head. "No, it can't. You made the choice to disobey orders, now you get to face the consequences so I can be reasonably assured you're not going to do it again while we're here." He holds out a hand. "C'mon, let's get it over with."

"But someone might hear!"

"They might." Jack agrees.

"This is too embarrassing."

"I can assure you, Danny, if I have to wait much longer, it'll be more embarrassing when the others get back and you have an audience."

The young man sighs, but shifts closer and takes Jack's hand, giving a last-ditch effort of, "I'm sorry,"

"I know. I am too, Danny. I'm sorry it's come to this." He pulls Daniel down across his lap, and the younger man goes obediently. Cognizant of the injuries Sam has just cleaned and bandaged, he carefully shifts Daniel so that his upper body is resting on the cushions beside him and lying flat, rather than jackknifed over his knee, before he slides a hand underneath him to unfasten his pants. That prompts a whine of protest, his name drawn out into many more syllables than it should be.

"Jaaaaaaack,"

"I'm not going to wear out my hand on your pants, kid, it's your butt I want to make an impression on." Jack slips fingers into both pants and underwear and strips them deftly down to his captive's knees, ignoring the wiggling it prompts in favor of simply securing him tightly against his hip with his free hand once he's done. He lands two spanks, medium strength, one to each side, to get Daniel's attention focused.

"Why am I spanking you?"

"Ow!" Daniel kicks his feet a little. "Because I went to the ruins even though you said not to."

"Good." He lands another couple of dozen swats, turning the white bottom in front of him pink quickly, and continuing until there's an even flush of color.

"Ow! Ow, stop!"

Jack ignores him, and after a moment of consideration, goes ahead and kicks it up a notch. He flattens his hand, making the next set of spanks sharper.

"Are you supposed to go off alone at all?"

"No, Jack, please,"

"Why not?"

"Because you said so!"

"Oh, so you DO know you're also supposed to follow orders," Jack raises one knee, taking a moment to concentrate the swats he is doling out on the ever-tender junction where Daniel's reddening butt meets his thighs. "So you just, what, decided you knew better?"

"Ow ow OW! Please, please, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry!"

"That wasn't a rhetorical question, Daniel," he says sternly. "I want to know what you were thinking when you disobeyed my direct orders." He pauses, and lays his hand on Daniel's thigh.

"I'm sorry," the younger man's voice is a little wobbly, and after a second he reaches back, trying to rub his stinging bottom. Jack grabs his wrist and gently pins it to the small of his back.

"Daniel," he warns.

"I'm sorry," the words are more miserable, but Jack refuses to be swayed.

"Answer the question."

"I wanted to see the ruins!" Daniel finally snaps, and kicks one of his feet a little against the ground. "I thought it would help Sam with the negotiations, and it did! How could I have known there would be a trap?" Jack is momentarily stunned by both the tone and the total lack of accountability Daniel is taking for his actions, and has to take a deep breath before he can do anything else. He thought - wrongly, apparently - that they'd gotten to the point where Daniel understood that sometimes, orders were orders and it didn't matter what the archaeologist thought he knew better, but apparently not.

He's determined to change that, right the hell now. "Stand up," he says, and when Daniel has scrambled to his feet and is blinking at him in confusion, Jack gets to his feet and points towards the wall. "Put your nose against the wall,"

"But, Jack,"

"NOW, Daniel."

Daniel looks up at him, eyes wide, but Jack isn't budging. The young man takes a deep breath and reaches for his pants, but Jack grabs his arm and moves him bodily in the direction he'd pointed, growling, "Leave them." Daniel does, facing the wall in an uncertain silence. Jack's tempted to make him put his hands on his head, but decides easy compliance on standing there is better today than a fight about standard disciplinary positions. Then he turns to the room and considers his options.

He hasn't used anything but his hand on Daniel since the first time; taking him over his knee and spanking his bare butt seemed to be more than enough, between the embarrassment and the lingering trauma (plus, he knows he can deliver a mean hand spanking anyway), but this calls for something more. Tucked away in his bag somewhere is his strap - still his implement of choice, but he'd promised Daniel he wouldn't use it, or anything that resembled the belt he'd been abused with as a child. He doesn't have a paddle, because he'd not needed one before. Carter is the only one likely to have a hairbrush in her pack, and even if he was willing to go digging in her stuff for it, it's unlikely to be the kind useful in this situation. His eye catches on the cooking area, and he walks over.

He picks up the spoon from the stove and hefts it thoughtfully. It's wooden, hand carved, not one of the cheap mass-produced things you see in the supermarket. He tests it out, lightly snapping the inside of his forearm with it. It smarts, and it's sturdy enough not to break, but not heavy enough that he won't be able to use it without worrying. He tries a couple of different places, and decides it's acceptable.

When he turns around, he's pleased to see Daniel has not moved from the wall. He can't see the younger man's face, but his shoulders are up around his ears and his head is bowed. Jack returns to the couch. "Alright, come here."

Daniel turns and shuffles over, only to stop dead in his tracks when he spots the spoon in Jack's hand. "You don't need that," he blurts.

"Your attitude is telling me differently," he says, keeping his tone even. He knows the last thing he can do right now is raise his voice - if there is anything that Daniel won't handle well, that's it. "Come here."

"We can talk about it," Daniel pleads. "I said I was sorry."

"Don't make me come get you."

With the tiniest steps, checking his face for any sign of wavering between each one, Daniel crosses the last bit of space and places himself back at Jack's side. Jack wastes no time in tipping him back over his lap - he doesn't want to give any time for the nerves to become actual fear. Getting him securely adjusted back into place, he goes ahead and grabs his hand and pins it to the middle of his back right from the outset this time, before lifting the spoon and resting the convex side on the cheeks in front of him. They're still pink, but it's faded a little already from his brief stint in the makeshift corner.

"Orders are not suggestions," he says, and then lifts the spoon.

The smack is louder than he'd expected, but not overly so, and the spoon leaves a red, oval shape behind, which is good. He delivers the first dozen or so swats in silence, and when Daniel starts to shift in discomfort, he brings their entwined hands to his outside hip, tucks him tighter against himself, and continues. When he finishes the second dozen, Daniel starts to squirm, he's begun kicking his feet a little, and he's yelping with each swat. Jack pauses, looking critically over the now-red bottom in front of him before he asks, "What's your first rule?"

"N-no putting myself in danger," Daniel gasps out, "but I didn't know-"

Jack cuts him off by landing the spoon once on each sit spot, harder than before, each smack rewarded with a cry from his miscreant. "There was reasonable suspicion, which is why I told you you couldn't go in the first place." He lands another two hard smacks, this time on the fullest parts of Daniel's cheeks. "Which leads us to, what is your second rule?"

"Follow d-direct orders, Jack, pleASE," he rushes the second half of the sentence, predicting that Jack is going to follow it with swats, and it turns into a yelp when he is proven correct. Jack lands four this time, one to each sit spot and then one to the top of each thigh. Daniel whimpers through them, and the kicking is reflexive now rather than protesting.

"Because you didn't follow orders, you jeopardized the mission by getting roped into this ceremony," a smack to the left cheek, "you put yourself in danger," a smack to the right cheek, "and you ended up hurt!" He follows it up with two more swats, nearly full strength, and Daniel finally goes boneless over his lap, the tears that have been held at bay by surprise at the new implement and the kid's stubbornness coming in a wave.

"I'm s-sorry," he sobs, sounding for the first time this evening like he actually means it, and Jack lets him cry for a moment, resting the spoon against his hot skin and rubbing circles with his thumb on Daniel's hand where he is holding it.

"I'm sorry this had to happen," he murmurs, "It's not ever something I want to do. But you did a bad job listening today, and it's got to stop."

Daniel doesn't respond except for a little sob, and Jack sighs and continues. This part is always the worst, when he's already brought your offender to sincere regret but needs to drive the point home.

"I don't want to have to talk about this again, but if we do, it's always going to be more than just a hand spanking, do you understand me? You will learn to follow orders in the field, and you will stop putting yourself in unnecessary danger."

"Yes, sir," comes the muffled response.

"Good, then we are almost done."

He lands the next ten swats carefully, evenly, across each cheek. They're not very hard, but Daniel cries out each time, and his feet are kicking again.

"Who do your orders come from?"

"Y-you, Jack!"

"Exactly. And whose decision is it, whether or not a mission is safe?"

"Yours," the response is a little choked around the tears.

"That's right." Jack pauses and lets the last few questions sink in for a minute. Then he drops the spoon on the seat next to them and brings his hand up to rub Daniel's back, sliding it up under his shirt. When the crying has mostly abated, he says, "Alright, Spacemonkey. You can get up."

"We're d-done?"

"We're done." Daniel pushes backward and Jack steadies him as he finds his footing, reaching down to ease his underwear up as delicately as possible before he pulls him into a hug.

"I'm really, really sorry," Daniel's voice is quiet and thick with tears.

"I know. It's dealt with, forgiven unless it happens again."

"Ok," the younger man sniffs, and then burrows into Jack's embrace. Jack holds him tight for another few minutes before he thinks they're pushing it on time, and then he gently eases him back a little.

"You should go wash your face and put some pants back on." He's kicked his BDU pants off at some point during the second half of his spanking. "Carter and Teal'c could be back any minute, and we'll need to sort out dinner and then you need to tell us what this ceremony entails and what the next week is going to look like."

Daniel nods and stands. He's still a little shaky, but Jack isn't surprised. This had been a pretty thorough spanking. He reaches out and gently touches his face. "Alright?"

Daniel nods.

"Go, I'll see what we have in our packs for food, and what our hosts have left us."

"Yeah, ok."

Daniel heads back to the sleeping room and Jack stands, returning the spoon to the kitchen area and turning around, intending to go grab their bags and see what's in them. But the tent flap opens before he gets there, and he stops, watching Carter and Teal'c slip inside and let the flap fall. "Everything alright?" Carter asks hesitantly, looking around and not seeing Daniel.

"As good as can be expected," Jack assures her. When she looks dubious, he resists the urge to roll his eyes. "He's fine, Carter. He'll be out in a minute."

"If you're sure, sir," she allows. "We chatted with the neighbors, and they invited us for dinner."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Indeed," Teal'c confirms. "They have promised a feast."

"Well, I'm not going to turn that down, we can start trying our hand at cooking local cuisine tomorrow." He turns his head, and then turns fully, when he hears the other room flap swish. The younger man is a little pink-faced, and his hair is sticking up everywhere, and there are faint tear tracks still visible, but all in all he looks better than expected. "Hear that, Daniel? We've been invited to dinner."

"Oh, um," Daniel sighs. "I'm actually not allowed to leave the tent until the ceremony. You guys go, though, I'm sure it'll be great. I'll have an MRE or something. He smiles at them, and it's a pretty good attempt, but Jack doesn't believe it. There's something just a little...fragile? behind the expression, and his instincts say it's too soon to leave Daniel alone after getting punished.

"How about you and I eat here, together, and Sam and Teal'c can go to the feast?"

"Sir?"

"Are you certain, O'Neill?"

Jack glances between them and shrugs, but Daniel is smiling in a slightly more genuine way.

"You can go, it's ok. You'll enjoy the feast better without me, anyway."

"It is not a question of enjoyment, DanielJackson," Teal'c says, at the same time as Sam protests, "Daniel, that's not true!"

"Daniel, I'm not leaving you alone after...after today," Jack says bluntly, ending the discussion. "It'll be good for me to be here anyway. Carter, Teal'c, have a good time, we'll see you when you get back." They bow out, and then Daniel and Jack are alone again.

"Jack, I'm really ok."

"I know you are," he responds, "But you were not a few minutes ago, and you're not going to be alone until you're back to 100%, and that's the way it is."

"Ok." Daniel relaxes as if the weight of the world has been taken from his shoulders, even manages a little grin. "So, you want chili mac or chicken and rice MRE for dinner?"