For abyssinia4077, who asked for Daniel, and sent me to an exhibition called 'Living and Dying' in room 24 of the British Museum. It was a really interesting exhibition, more anthropological than archaeological, all about how people around the world protect the living and keep them healthy and safe, and how they celebrate and honour the dead. This ficlet was inspired by a photo of a girl in Egypt, wearing a white wedding dress on the third day of her wedding.

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Once they'd seen Jack and his team off through the Gate, Daniel walked back with his new bride, hoping to spend a little time getting to know her. The glances she kept giving him - looking flirtatiously through her eyelashes, her curving smile showing glinting white teeth – gave him hope that she wanted to spend some time getting to know him, too. So caught up was he in lovely visions of domestic bliss, that it came as a total surprise when hands grabbed him and held him back as Sha'uri slipped away from him and disappeared into a tent.

"Hey, wait...!" He turned to glare at whoever was holding him, only to find his brother-in-law hanging on to his arm and grinning. "Skaara," he sighed. "Um, now isn't–" He switched to Egyptian. "Would you mind..."

"No, no, Daniel." Skaara shook his head. A tendril of worry crept into Daniel's mind.

"No? But-"

"No, no," insisted Skaara, gently pulling him away as an inordinate amount of women brushed past them and went into the tent, carrying armfuls of folded cloth. When they were in, the tent flap was firmly pulled shut, and laughter and talking erupted. Daniel had the uneasy feeling that he was the butt of the joke.

"Skaara, what's going on?"

Skaara, having got him to a safe distance, shrugged. "Your wedding, Daniel. It continues."

"Con...continues?"

Skaara nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! We will have a great celebration - your wedding, and the death of the false god Ra! You are Daniel the God-Killer," he said, clapping Daniel enthusiastically on the back. "And on the seventh day, you will truly be my brother. My brother the god-killer! It is just a pity Oneer and his men could not stay for the party."

Daniel, even with his limited experience of the military and of bachelor parties, privately disagreed, visions of being tied naked to a mastadge flitting through his mind. But he kept that to himself. "Yeeees. A pity. But I thought..." It dawned on him that there really wasn't a good way to say to his wife's brother, 'But I thought we were already married!' Fortunately Skaara understood.

"No, no – that was just the first day," he said, dismissively. "Besides, then we thought you were one of the gods, and could take what you wanted without ceremony. Now we know you are a man! Now the women make dresses to bless the bride." Skaara began to tick them off on his fingers. "Today, green, for rich crops. Tomorrow, yellow, for good weather. Next day, white, in mourning at leaving her father's home. Next day, red, for..."

Daniel listened with an odd combination of horror and interest as Skaara described the plans for his wedding week. He'd not known what to expect when traveling through a wormhole to a distant galaxy. Of course he hadn't. Aliens, Egyptian gods, a dead language come to life, the dead coming back to life... it was an adventure, and because so much of it was so extraordinary, it seemed to make a strange kind of sense. But the fact that he was now getting married - in a seven-day ceremony! - was... was... It was such a real-life event, that it had taken him completely by surprise. Heck, he hadn't expected it would be something he'd ever get to do on Earth, either – Sarah had made clear her opinions on his ability to maintain a functional relationship before she left.

This time, Daniel decided, he wasn't going to screw it up.

"Skaara!" He interrupted the boy's chronicling of Abydonian bridal-wear. "What is my role in the ceremony? What do I need to do, to honor my new bride and her family?"

Skaara gave him a bright, approving grin, and took his arm. "Daniel God-Killer," he said, "My brother. You are a great hero, and a great scholar. On my world, you will learn to be a great husband."

And this next one is for aoife_hime, who sent me to room 17, and asked for gen or Sam/Jack. The room contained pieces from the Nereid Monument, built 390 – 380 BC in Xanthos, Turkey – the first example of a tomb like the Mausoleum. Some interesting factoids: the people who lived in Turkey at the time were known to the Greeks as the Lykians, but called themselves the Termilai. The Lykian language is only partially understood today. It uses an alphabet of 29 letters, some borrowed from the Greek.

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"Okay," said Jack, finally, "it didn't happen like that."

On their return to Termilus, they had been conducted on a grand tour of the monument erected in honor of their first visit. The others had left Daniel to express appropriate appreciation - Jack remaining conspicuously silent throughout. At last, they'd been left alone to admire the handiwork.

"It's an exaggeration," agreed Daniel. "But that's traditional. You don't see monuments depicting the – the great moment when the handsome and intelligent Doctor Jackson narrowly avoided getting shot by tripping over a tree root."

Sam smiled at him. "Aw. Pity."

Daniel shrugged. "This is just – heroic tradition."

They all looked at the relief sculptures again. It was certainly heroic-looking, depicting the glorious overthrow of the false god Nereus and his banishment from Termilus.

"Yeah, but..." Jack cleared his throat. His team looked at him, and he frowned heavily.

"Is there something about the statuary which disturbs you, O'Neill?" enquired Teal'c, with deliberate innocence.

"Yes!" barked Jack. "Okay, we kicked Nero's ass in spectacular fashion, and they're very grateful and want to remember us even to their children and their children's children, blah blah blah – I get that. What I don't get is - why do we always get pictured naked?"

Daniel sighed, Teal'c silently raised his eyes, and Sam – secure in the knowledge that she was the only one sculpted with clothes on, even if she did look like the winner of a wet draperies competition – smirked, and led the walk away. Jack trailed after them, dragging his feet.

"I'm just gettin' tired of it, that's all! The other colonels laugh at me. And anyway, why are these sculptures always very flattering in the chest area, but not so much, er, just below that, if you know what I mean? Kids? Hey, wait up-!"