JACK
"Hel-lo,
Kawalsky," I say brightly.
"O'Neill?"
He looks puzzled, as well he might.
"Get
off me, Jack!" a muffled voice snarls into my shoulder.
I
rise smoothly to my feet, take in the expression on Daniel's face and
prudently step back out of range.
"Kawalsky!"
Daniel beams up.
Kawalsky
lowers his MP5, flashes that trademark grin of his and helps Daniel up.
"Long time no see, Doc," he says cheerfully. "Must be four years since
you kissed off the Air Force. I don't blame ya. Delaney was a bastard.
We knew you wanted to stay but - ah, hell, water under the bridge. Good
to see ya." Then he turns back to me and the MP5 is raised again. Quite
definitely. "No offence, O'Neill, but hand over the weapons or I'll
have to shoot ya."
I
consider my options and surrender gracefully. "Tom Delaney?" He's the
only Delaney I know. Kawalsky nods. "I didn't take the team through the
Stargate?"
"Turned
General West down flat." Kawalsky smiles again at Daniel and begins to
shepherd us even further away from the quantum mirror I tackled Daniel
through. People were shooting. So I - overreacted. A tad. I'm just a
little off my game around Daniel at the moment. That whole business
with the robots a couple days ago still has my nerves jangling. We
hated the idea of losing ANY Daniel. Hammond didn't see why ALL of SG-1
should romp off-world to just touch base with our Daniel. I kinda
insisted one of us got to go for the sake of plummeting team morale and
then pulled rank on the other two. Carter was frankly sullen when I
strolled into the gateroom. I only ate a few of the damn cookies.
Teal'c was giving me - looks. Not happy. Big time not happy.
Me
either. Without Daniel, we get on one another's nerves. With Daniel, we
get on everybody else's. I had to get on Hammond's quite persistently
to convince him to let me come here and I'm fairly certain he's never
going to let me forget it was my fault Daniel and I wound up tumbling
through the quantum mirror.
"Good
to see me too?" I ask Kawalsky.
"I
saw you two hours ago," he says flatly. "And now you're going to see
you too."
"You
couldn't just let us go back through the mirror?" Daniel asks hopefully.
Kawalsky
softens visibly. "Can't do that, Daniel. Still got unfriendlies in the
area. We'll need reinforcements to get you back safe and sound, and in
the meantime the General will want to see you." With that, we're
escorted with brisk efficiency to the Stargate, the trip punctuated by
the sound of distant gunfire.
Did
I mention people were shooting on this side too? Daniel was pinned
beneath me for quite a while as I was merrily shooting anybody that
wasn't us. He still looks ruffled.
"General?"
I admit I'm curious to meet another me, preferably one who doesn't piss
me off as much as the robot me did, but if this me blew off Abydos and
got PROMOTED I'm betting I'm not gonna like what I see. I'm still
embarrassed about being such a Roger Ramjet in the first alternate
reality Daniel stumbled into.
"Doctor
Carter?" Daniel asks as he unthinkingly goes to the DHD to dial us
home. Kawalsky's 2IC shoots Kawalsky a look but he's happy to indulge
Daniel. Guess the Daniel here made just as good an impression in this
reality as mine did in ours.
"Captain
Carter? Back at the base. Heads up the techies."
"She's
not part of SG-1?" That surprises me. So, odds are she and I are
together. Interesting.
"We
don't need a scientist in combat. She's needed back at the base more."
"You're
not peaceful explorers?" Daniel is disappointed. "No cultures, history,
language?"
"Plenty
of language, but I doubt it's the kind you mean. The missions are
strategic, Daniel. We're out for technological gain. We'll be sending a
team back for the mirror. Might be useful."
"Attention
K-Mart shoppers," I mutter.
As
the SFs trot through the event horizon, Kawalsky 'assists' my exit
rather forcefully, making me stumble out onto the ramp in the gateroom.
My alternate is waiting at the bottom of the ramp, glaring up at me. I
glare right back. Daniel on the other hand has no qualms whatsoever,
strolling straight past me and down the ramp.
"Jack?"
Daniel says tentatively, holding out his hand.
The
other me - er, Jack - thaws slightly and shakes Daniel's proffered hand
just as Daniel blushes and withdraws it.
"This
is Dr Jackson, Sir. If he's anything like the Daniel I remember, I'm
happy to vouch for him," Kawalsky offers.
"Dr
Jackson," Jack says coolly, with an embryonic upwardly mobile twitch of
the lips.
"Daniel,
please." Daniel insists, beaming up at him.
Jack
seems - taller.
"Daniel,"
Jack says softly, the smile warming.
We
going for some kind of record in long meaningful handshakes, here? Jack
doesn't let go soon, it's going to look like they're holding hands.
Finally, Jack gets the message and turns to lead us out of the gateroom.
"You're
part of the SGC, Daniel?"
"There's
no point -" I begin.
"I'm
on SG-1 with Jack and Samantha Carter," Daniel says cheerfully.
"Interrogating
us -" I continue.
"And
Teal'c. Teal'c used to be First Prime of Apophis," Daniel blithely
finishes.
"Because
we won't tell you anything," I bite off the last few words and glare at
Daniel. "Do you understand the concept of 'top secret', Daniel? It
DOESN'T mean the secret you MOST want to give away."
Jack
glares at me. "Don't you think sarcasm to your subordinates is not only
unprofessional, but uncalled for in this case, Colonel? Finding out
Captain Carter is toting an MP5 instead of a laptop is hardly a matter
of earth-shattering strategic importance. And the very fact you have a
civilian archaeologist on your team is enough to tell me your mission
priorities aren't the same as ours. If you had advanced weaponry we
could use, you'd be toting it, so let's just try to rein in that ego,
and not embarrass ourselves in public more than we really have to,
shall we?"
"'Subordinate'?"
There's a slight edge to Daniel's soft voice.
Jack
turns his back on me, sidles closer to Daniel and ushers him graciously
into the briefing room. "Strictly a military term, denoting established
differences in the varying levels of responsibility assigned to each
rank," he explains fluently.
"Does
that imply Jack is my 'superior'?" The edge is slightly sharper.
They
both look at me, somewhat unenthusiastically.
"Fair
point," Jack concedes, smirking.
As
we settle down for the familiar debriefing, I can't help but notice
Daniel winds up on Jack's right hand while I'm hustled along to the
other end of the table. Out of the way? At least the robot me was
pissed off at me. This one is barely aware I'm alive.
He
seems to be fairly aware of Daniel's existence though. It's only polite
to look at people when you talk to them, but his eyes seem to be
dwelling on Daniel's face. Even when he's not actually talking to
Daniel.
It's
weirding me out. It's obvious the Daniel of this reality is sulking in
Egypt somewhere because he wasn't allowed to stay with Sha'uri. This
team killed Ra but it was the gate they blew. No possibility of a
return visit. This Jack came on board when Hammond retired, just in
time to do the Apophis meet and greet. Since they knew the Abydos gate
had been destroyed, they didn't go looking for Daniel at this end to
help them. Carter figured out the same stuff she figured out after
Daniel told her what to figure out in our reality. Jack doesn't know
his Daniel, let alone my Daniel. They just met. Why the interest? Where
are the geek jokes? I mean, it didn't take long for Daniel's charm to
win me over either, but I was still calling him a dweeb for quite some
time after we met.
I
have to face the appalling possibility this Jack is - is well adjusted.
That the therapy paid off. The humour is cranked way down, but the
warmth is cranked up to compensate. At least it is with Daniel.
"We
have to be sent back through the mirror within forty eight hours,"
Daniel says. "That's the uppermost limit before entropic cascade
failure sets in."
"That's
BAD," I tell Jack, who has the slightly glazed look in his eyes I get
when Daniel is talking. And talking. Or when the discussion gets
scientific on me. Both things together is a killer. "We ARE time
delineated here for the return to P4X-890."
The
discussion turns to the tactical and it's Daniel's turn to glaze over.
I find myself watching Jack watch Daniel as he orders a probe to be
sent through to monitor the situation and discusses various assault
scenarios. We get a preliminary plan licked into shape before Jack
calls it quits and dismisses us.
Kawalsky
stops by my chair. "We got a hockey game on tape in the rec room.
You're welcome to join us, Jack. We're laying on the works." I can't
get used to the fact Kawalsky is a colonel in this reality, but I don't
mind the Jack, not from him. I've missed him. I grin back at him and
nod. "Daniel?"
"I'll
check in on Sam, say hi, compare notes," Daniel says cheerfully.
"Say
hi to Carter for me too," I toss over my shoulder as I head out the
door. A hockey game is definitely one up on a cell.
DANIEL
As
my Jack heads out the door, this Jack turns to me and smiles. "Sorry,
Daniel. Captain Carter is doing a series of briefings at the Pentagon.
You'll have to compare notes with me instead."
There's
all the comforting familiarity of my Jack, but this one seems calmer,
more sure of himself. Or do I mean less cocksure?
"Don't
you have any work to do? You are in command here, aren't you?"
Jack's
eyes twinkle suddenly and the grin is pure unadulterated my Jack. "I
hate paperwork so I have minions who do that stuff for me. The
privilege of rank."
"Subordinates?"
I suggest.
The
grin widens. "Why don't I walk you to your quarters? You can tell me
some more about your SGC." He sticks his hands in his pockets, quite
relaxed as he strolls along, nodding coolly to anybody who crosses his
path.
He's
a bit more of a hardass than my Jack, less of the attitude and
playfulness, but he's nothing like the Jack I first met when I
translated that cartouche and opened the gate, or the Jack of the other
alternate reality.
"I
find it hard to believe you're allowed off-world. In my book, you
protect irreplaceable assets. I don't know what my counterpart is
thinking," Jack muses.
"Asset?"
I've never been called an asset before. "Counterpart?"
"Hammond,"
Jack gives me that - warm - smile again. It's not the sort of smile I'm
used to from Jack and it makes me smile right back at this Jack every
time I see it. This Jack is just going out of his way to make me feel
comfortable, I guess.
"Irreplaceable,"
he says softly.
I'm
slightly embarrassed, flushing a little. Compliments make me nervous. I
always find myself waiting for the 'but'.
"It's
fairly obvious it was your knowledge that saved the day on Abydos in
both realities, and your contribution in the briefing was impressive. I
regret you aren't with the SGC here. We could use your expertise on
some missions."
"You
actually listened to me?" I'm astonished. "Jack usually glazes over. I
thought you did too, to be honest." I give him an apologetic look, "I
know you - him - very well."
"I
was glazed over, but not because I wasn't listening. I heard every word
you said. I was just thinking." Jack ushers me into the VIP quarters
with a flourish, shutting the door firmly on the noise and bustle of
the SGC. He picks up the phone and orders some food while I settle
myself down at the table.
"What?"
I ask.
"Hmm?"
"What
were you thinking?"
"You
really want to know, Daniel?"
I
do.
"I
was thinking what a waste," Jack grins.
"I
don't understand." Waste of what?
"You.
You're wasted on him."
"On
Jack? He might seem a little impatient, but he does listen to me," I
hesitate. "Most of the time, anyway. A lot of the time. Once he's sure
I'm right. I mean - um."
"That's
not why you're wasted on him."
"Oh."
Um. "Why?"
"Took
me about ten seconds to realise you were just about the most beautiful
thing I'd ever seen, and about ten minutes to realise you were the
sweetest man I'd ever met," Jack tells me casually.
"Oh."
Oh. "Oh."
"If
a little on the shy side," he adds gravely, but his eyes are twinkling.
"Basically, your Jack is either too stupid to live or in some kind of
terminal macho hardass denial. If you were mine, we'd never get out of
bed."
"Bed?"
I squeak. There was a definite squeak and I was the one talking so I
know it also has to be me doing the squeaking. And the blushing. It's
either that or I've got a forest fire breaking out on my face.
"We'd
be making love morning, noon and night," he says, eyeing me with
obvious relish. "Okay. Make that a LOT on the shy side. Don't you have
any idea how beautiful you are, or, for that matter, what it's doing to
me, you licking your lips like that? Better stop that, actually. I
might not be answerable for the consequences."
I'm
saved by the food arriving, and have just about managed to claw my way
back from incoherent, stuttering shock by the time my meal is set in
front of me.
I
do have a small set back when Jack disagrees with my assessment of how
over this I am and puts my knife and fork into my hands, commenting
about 'elegance' as he does so. I'm assuming he's not referring to the
cutlery.
Then
he sits down and grins at me. He's got this wicked light in his eyes
I've never seen in Jack's. "You're sexy when you're open mouthed with
astonishment."
"H
- how can you t - talk to me like this?" I stammer.
"It's
not TALKING, Daniel. It's FLIRTING," he corrects sternly.
"Oh,"
I say intelligently.
"Because
I'm secure in my masculinity," Jack announces smugly
You
- you think I'm beautiful?" I burst out. I think I'M glazing over.
"Heart
stopping," Jack agrees equably, cautiously investigating his steak.
"Particularly your mouth. The eyes are stunning, true enough, but they
don't offer the same opportunities for interactivity as the lips." Jack
looks intently at my lips. "Lush. That's the word that comes to mind. A
lush, kissable pout." Jack pauses to chew some steak with obvious
enjoyment. "An almost irresistible invitation. It's lucky I'm a
gentleman or I'd be kissing you right now."
"Jack
is divorced!"
Jack
gives me a surprised look. "So am I."
"Jack
has never wanted to kiss me!"
"I
do, and if HE thinks he doesn't, he's lying to himself." The wicked
gleam is very pronounced. "Trust me. He's me. I know." Jack eats in
silence for a while, his eyes dwelling with obvious pleasure and
admiration on my apparently beautiful face.
I'm
just starting to relax and think the worst is over, so I pick up my
fork and test my own steak cautiously.
"How
about you?"
"Me?"
I jump a little.
"Do
YOU want me to kiss you?" Jack asks conversationally, as if it's the
most natural thing in the world.
"I
wouldn't strenuously object."
Oh
my God! Who said that? He's not talking. Must have - must have been me.
"Am I - am I - um - secure in my masculinity too?" I say. Pathetically.
I know it.
"Daniel,
I don't know you well enough to judge how secure you are, think we've
got a few minor issues of self-confidence here, possibly due to your
me, who doesn't seem to be taking very good care of your - you - but I
believe I can say with absolute conviction your masculinity is NOT an
area for concern." He eyes me thoughtfully. "Frankly, I'd like to see
more of it on display, preferably draped fetchingly over the pillows,
but insecurity is NOT an issue. Relax," Jack advises kindly.
"Relax?"
I gasp. "You want to - to -"
"Make
love?" Jack supplies helpfully.
"And
now I want to - to - "
"Not
issue a definitive refusal?" Jack suggests gently.
"I
don't know what to say!"
"FAR
be it from me to put words in your mouth, don't want you thinking
there's any kind of hidden agenda on my part, but the words you're
looking for here are 'YES PLEASE!' RIGHT NOW!" Jack says suggestively.
"Just thought I'd give you a hint."
"A
hidden agenda?" I'm incredulous. "If you were any more obvious, you'd
be smacking me over the head and dragging me into your cave."
"That's
an idea that has appeal on any number of levels."
"J
- Jack!" Laughter is choking me. He's outrageous.
Jack
beams at me. "That's very appealing too," he approves.
"You're
a GENERAL."
"General's
are people too."
"What
am I going to do with you?" I sigh.
"If
you're looking for suggestions," he begins hopefully.
"I'm
not!" I say repressively.
Jack
is crushed. Big, hurt eyes silently reproach my cruelty and general
hard heartedness. I don't recall the intervening stages, but one moment
I'm sitting on my chair laughing at him and the next I'm sitting on his
lap, blushing at him. I know we're on his side of the table so I must
have gone to him, I just - I don't remember doing it.
I
give him a slightly embarrassed look. "You talked me into it," I
accuse. He didn't actually - say - anything.
"I'm
well known for having extraordinary powers of persuasion," Jack
cheerfully admits his culpability as he lightly kisses the veins at my
wrist, "and no moral fibre whatsoever. Or willpower. Not when it comes
to inter-dimensional archaeologists, anyway."
Jack
hugs me close as he leans in and gently brushes his lips against mine.
When he leans back, I follow him and kiss him just as gently. He swipes
his tongue over my bottom lip, making me shiver. He stops at once,
concerned. I lick his lip. Then we - lick - tongues.
Jack
makes three tactical decisions in quick succession. After a brief
threat assessment, he determines my glasses are in mortal danger. A
preliminary survey of the terrain suggests my jacket and his jacket are
frankly in the way of mapping some crucial topography and must be
disposed of without delay. Then he launches a full frontal assault,
giving me plenty of time to utterly fail to escape the approaching
incursion of his tongue into my mouth, wherein it wars pleasurably with
my tongue.
I
have no fault whatsoever to find with his command decisions, and am
completely impressed by his firm grasp of the logistics of steering one
thoroughly overexcited general and one ecstatically dazed
inter-dimensional archaeologist over to the bed without breaking off
the kiss at any point. He lowers me to the bed as if I am infinitely
precious and fragile, then settles us side by side.
He's
a wonderful kisser. Generous, tender, curious, passionate. Tasting
every single part of my mouth with due care and attention, encouraging
my tentative advances into his mouth, and all the while his arms are
holding me, stroking me. Covetous hands slide down to my butt and pull
me close to him. We kiss and kiss and kiss, my hands roaming all over
the lean muscle of his back, warm through the soft cloth of his
T-shirt. Somehow I wind up beneath him, my thighs parting, his hips
rocking slowly, sensuously against mine. Someone is moaning. Possibly
me. It's so - so warm and gentle. I realise I want to make love with
him at the same time we both realise we can't.
Jack
stares down at me with infinite sadness and regret. Then he kisses my
brow tenderly and rolls us back over to our sides, arms and legs
wrapping around me in a comprehensive, comforting embrace. The only
sign of his physical distress is the hard heat still pressing against
my abdomen, and his quickened breathing.
"I'm
sorry. I'm so sorry," I whisper, quite bewildered by the tumult of
contradictory emotions.
"Don't
be," Jack says firmly. "Your me definitely does not deserve your you.
I'm embarrassed somebody so goddamn clueless and self-centred is
walking around thinking he's the full meal deal."
A
gentle hand cups my cheek and I nuzzle into it, grateful for the
simplicity of his affection.
"I
could so easily fall in love with you," he whispers.
"I
fell in love with my you, and there's nothing easy about it," I murmur
hopelessly. I was moaning alright. I was moaning 'Jack' over and over
again, with such - longing - we both knew the Jack I meant wasn't the
Jack in bed with me.
"I'm
prepared to heroically sacrifice my principles and console you -"
"Console
me?"
"Stop
interrupting. For throwing yourself away so lamentably, with - "
"I'm
not!"
"WITH
steamy sex."
"I'm
awed by your selflessness," I say tartly. "Or I would be if you didn't
have such a hard on and weren't thinking purely of yourself."
"Worth
a shot," he says grinning. "And STOP wriggling like that!"
I
flush miserably and shoot him an apologetic look from under my lashes.
"I wanted to."
"I
know, Daniel. Me too." Jack sighs.
"I
still want to."
"I
know. Me too. But it wouldn't be right."
"I
know." I sigh. Then I stare at his mouth. He stares at mine. "How are
our principles on the subject of kissing?"
"Flexible."
"Mmmph."
Very flexible. "Mmm." Wonderfully flexible in fact. "Just kissing?" I
query, quite some time later, and somewhat breathlessly.
"Just
kissing," Jack agrees sadly.
We
kiss, talk and cuddle, then talk some more, then kiss a lot more,
through the night. A lengthy arctic-cold blast of a shower takes care
of the worst of the side effects of 'just kissing' and we sneak out,
not ready to face the world, but definitely ready to take on pancakes
in the commissary. We deserve something after a long night of heroic
self-restraint and simmering unsatisfied sexual tension.
Jack's
arm brushes against mine as we walk. He's pensive and silent as he
calls the elevator. "Daniel? What's the natural habitat of a Dr
Jackson?"
He
is! He's blushing. "Are you serious?"
"Of
course. I've been swayed by your persuasive arguments vis a vis
peaceful exploration," Jack coughs slightly as I blush, some of the
kissing shaded into a little peaceful exploring, though lips were quite
definitely involved, "and feel Dr Jackson would make a valuable
addition to the team." Then he gives me an anxious look. "Would Dr
Jackson be receptive to the proposition?"
"I
was," I say reassuringly.
"Can
you picture a sweet, susceptible, unsuspecting Daniel Jackson
innocently digging up some tomb?" Jack says dreamily.
"Not
knowing he's got a terrifyingly horny, compellingly persuasive,
downright sneaky Jack O'Neill stalking him through the dunes, just
closing in for the -"
"Kiss,"
Jack finishes gleefully. "The Stargate AND my naked body? How could any
man resist?" he asks with simple pride. I open my mouth to answer and
he closes it with a gentle tap under my chin. "That was a rhetorical
question."
We
saunter into the elevator and unfortunately become very conscious of -
mouths - yet again.
"I'm
lucky I have to deal with my you. You have to deal with your me. What a
loser! It's so embarrassing. I'm so embarrassed." Jack can't tear his
eyes from my lips. "Just -"
"Kissing,"
I whisper and close in on Jack as the elevator doors close on...
JACK
In
the second before the elevator doors close, I see. I see it all. His
hands are on Daniel's butt. His tongue is in Daniel's mouth and his
hands are on Daniel's butt.
That's
MY Daniel you're mauling, asshole!
He
was in Daniel's bed! All night. I followed them all the way from the
VIP room to the elevator. Was he in - NO WAY. No fucking - excuse the
expression - way! NOT my Daniel.
"SONOVABITCH!"
I howl.
I
call the elevator and wait in a frenzy of impatience. First the robot
me freaking out over losing robot Daniel, now this! I know what was
going through that robot's mind. I KNOW. I haven't been that pissy
since I separated from Sara. My WIFE. I knew. I knew when I saw his
reaction to us finding out he lost his Daniel. They were SO doing it.
He goddamn HATED the fact I still had my Daniel. I'm goddamn glad I
didn't have my Daniel with me or he'd have been beating the robot me
off with a zat gun come time to gate home.
I
punch in the number and prowl restlessly around the elevator.
Talk
about out of the frying pan. I was watching a dumbass hockey game while
this slimy rat bastard was seducing MY Daniel. Now he's after the one
that belongs here, too! I mean, I know I've always had this twins
fantasy, but NEVER have I fantasised about twin Daniel's. O'Neill had
my Daniel naked and horizontal a few hours after meeting him. The poor
kid here doesn't stand a chance. He'll be on his back in some tomb
before he knows what's hit him.
Screw
forty eight hours. We're getting out of here NOW. Today.
How
come? How come whatever O'Neill has works for him in a few hours, and
whatever I've got fails to work for me in four years? How come I'm even
asking myself that? I'm straight! He's straight. He might have just had
SEX with me - with O'Neill - but that doesn't mean any of the three of
us aren't - can't this crate go any FASTER? Thank you!
It's
early. Barely five am. The commissary is deserted except for Daniel and
O'Neill, cosied up in the farthest corner from the kitchen staff.
"Oatmeal!"
I order tersely. Hurry up! "Thank you." I stalk over. They're so
engrossed they don't even hear me coming.
"This
seat taken?" I ask brightly, forcing Daniel to move over one so O'Neill
has to play footsie with ME, he wants to get playful. Daniel blushes
furiously and stares at his plate. He can't even look me in the eye.
WHAT
DID YOU DO TO DANIEL, YOU BASTARD?
"So,
you come here often?" I smile daggers at O'Neill.
"Jack,"
a small, soft voice pleads.
"What?"
both his available Jack's answer in identical tones of sympathy and
concern. The mutual hostility level cranks up. Never taking his eyes
from mine, O'Neill slides his plate over in front of Daniel and
follows. He glares at me and smiles tenderly at Daniel.
"Don't
fight."
"Daniel,
I'm shocked at the suggestion. Colonel O'Neill's grasp of military
discipline and acceptable conduct may be shaky at best, but even he
wouldn't be dumb enough to pick a fight in public with a SUPERIOR
officer. " His eyes say he could take me with both hands behind his
back, or preferably round my throat. "Relax and eat your pancakes. You
need to keep up your strength."
Daniel
is blushing as he bats his eyes at O'Neill. He never bats his eyes at
me. He batted them at Aris Boch one time, but not at me. He can turn on
the charm for deranged junkie bounty hunters but not his best friend?
Why not? What's wrong with me?
Er
- what is wrong with me? If this were CARTER that O'Neill was cosying
up to, I could understand it. I mean, he's got one of his own but -
He's got one of his own but one look at Daniel turns him into Cro
Magnon Man? All the other me's want Carter, right? I mean, they don't
just want her because they've never met Daniel? Right? Right.
The
robot me could have had Carter. He actually had Daniel. I'm pretty sure
he had Daniel.
I've
got both Carter AND Daniel, which puts me in the minority and I - I
want - I - Daniel is licking his lips. O'Neill is watching him licking
his lips. I'm watching him licking his lips. Daniel has to stop licking
his lips before I'm forced to kill O'Neill and lick Daniel's lips for
him. He has to stop now. Really. STOP, already!
Thank
God. And leave the glasses ON. Don't encourage the SOB. Not like he
NEEDS encouragement. He's all grits and vinegar over there.
"The
MALP telemetry is encouraging. I'm sending in an assault team at nine
hundred hours. You're VERY welcome to join them," O'Neill drawls in my
general direction, without taking his focused attention from Daniel's
face. "Lend them the benefit of your - er - expertise. I'm sure we can
find something useful for you to do."
His
tone suggests just because he can't think of a single thing doesn't
mean there isn't one. Perhaps - dying?
A
choked giggle from Daniel draws an indulgent smile and they share
another of those little glances that are eating into my gut like
hydrochloric acid. What did O'Neill mean, about me being a loser? Just
because he gets to have Daniel and I don't? I've never wanted Daniel.
Not like that. We're friends. That's all.
"What
do you have planned for ME to do today?" Daniel asks sweetly. "Is there
anything I can help you with, while I'm here?"
"I'm
planning to add a civilian contingent to the SGC. Perhaps you could
give me some pointers on how I can help make the transition from
civilian to - peaceful explorer - as smooth as possible."
Daniel
chokes on his pancake and glares at O'Neill, the severity lasting all
of about ten seconds.
"Would
you have time for an - oral - debriefing, Daniel? I might be able to
drop by your quarters, grab some lunch."
O'Neill
is staring at Daniel's mouth. Daniel is staring at O'Neill's mouth and
I'm pretty sure neither of them even remembers I'm here.
No
way. NO WAY does he sneak off for a lunchtime quicky with my best
friend. I don't blame Daniel for being susceptible. He's been alone and
celibate for far too long. How can I blame him for vulnerability? For
being lonely and looking for a little comfort? I can't blame Daniel,
but by God I can and do blame myself. Him. O'Neill took advantage of
that vulnerability. He seduced Daniel.
Daniel
deserves so much better than a one night stand. He deserves to be with
someone who loves him, who cares for him as much as I do. Who'll take
care of him the way I would. Daniel lay down with O'Neill, let O'Neill
kiss him, touch him. Daniel let a man with my face make love to him.
Not me. I - he - he wasn't ready. He missed her so much and he wasn't
ready to see - he was - he was supposed to see ME. He was supposed to
come to ME. I was right there in front of him the whole time and he
chooses this stranger with my face instead? What does that say about
me? It's not gender, it's not packaging. It's ME.
He
doesn't want ME.
"When
are you sending us through?" I ask O'Neill quietly.
"When
my people have checked out the area and we're sure it's safe for Daniel
- and you - on both sides of that mirror. Realistically, do you think
your people will be there? If not, mine will go through the mirror with
you, see you to the Stargate and return."
"Hammond
won't sit idly by while he thinks we're in danger. My expectation is
that my people will have secured our end of the mirror. I doubt we'll
need an escort through, but it's always better to plan for the worst."
Daniel
isn't going to feel guilty about this, is he? When we get home. He's
not going to be looking at me and thinking of O'Neill, is he? I don't
want that, don't want to catch the fallout if - or knowing Daniel, when
- his guilt comes marching home. If I'd been the one in that bed with
him, making love to him…
I
shove my oatmeal away roughly.
"Jack?"
Daniel is startled.
"I
feel the abrupt need for a change of air," I snarl and stalk off
without a backward glance.
"What
a charming display of good manners," O'Neill calls out after me with
withering scorn.
I
don't care. I feel sick. Seething with jealousy and rage. I'm in love
with Daniel. God help me, I've been in love with him for months. I've
wanted him for months. I've been needing him, desiring him - fighting
him, blaming him. Pushing him away.
Lying
to myself.
O'Neill
is right. I am a loser. I stalk back to my quarters, scattering SFs
from my path as I go. Slamming the door behind me does nothing to vent
my feelings. I throw myself down on the bed. I could have had Daniel. I
wanted him and I could have had him. The fact he went for O'Neill at
all tells me that. The fact that he went to O'Neill and not to me tells
me I'm not ever likely to have him. Too late.
He's
my best friend. The best person I know, the most generous,
compassionate and most honest man you could imagine. He thinks the
world of me, always has. I've taken him for granted. Refused to think
outside the box he sometimes thinks the Air Force trapped me in.
He's
beautiful. So very beautiful. All that flawless pale golden skin,
stunningly clear deep blue eyes. Soulful eyes. Always that sweet,
serious expression on his face. The rare smile that lights his face,
sometimes with mischief, always with warmth. The lips. Oh, God, his
lips. A natural pout. My hand fumbles at my zipper almost against my
will, freeing an erection already at aching hardness. I think of
Daniel's lips and stroke myself. Think of kissing that perfect pout;
breathing quicker. All that soft skin on his perfect body, the body
I've seen a time or few in the showers; hand pumping now, gasping.
Think of him writhing beneath me, loving him, thrusting into him, hips
arching off the bed; coming, HARD, oh God…"Daniel!"
I
curl into a ball with the evidence of my own misery drying on me. I
wilfully drove him away.
A
knock at the door makes me jump. My suggestion that the person on the
other side should fuck off and die is not well received. The door opens
in response to my weary "Come in," and Il Generalísimo stalks
in, eyeing me with contempt.
"Took
you goddamn long enough. You SO don't deserve Dan."
"DAN?
His name is Daniel, you bastard! Dr Jackson to you."
"He
was perfectly happy to have me call him Dan." O'Neill licks his lips,
dreamily. "Amongst other things."
I
hate this man so much my hands are shaking. "Did you sleep with him?" I
snarl.
"He
was curled up next to me all night," O'Neill says smugly. "The skin?
It's flawless, all over. Like silk. Warm. Trembling. And he moans so
appreciatively whenever you touch him. So responsive, so sensual. You'd
never know… excuse me. You'll never know."
A
few seconds later he's at my feet, clutching his jaw. I'm desperately
clutching my fist.
"Christ!
You've got a -"
"Hard
hand!"
"Jaw!"
"You
bastard. You get to have your quicky and I get to take him home and
pick up the pieces. He's doing just great, just great. Hathor, Shyla,
The Destroyer of Worlds, now you. Hell of a record. All of you fucked
him and fucked him over. I could kill you for taking advantage of him."
"He's
not a child, even if you do treat him like one. Get your own house
clean before you piss in mine." O'Neill gets to his feet in a way that
suggests his knees are in better shape than mine. "I came to tell you
that you'll be going home in two hours. The site is clear and Kawalsky
is confident he can ensure Daniel's safety." He turns and stalks over
to the door.
"Where
the fuck are you going?" I demand suspiciously.
"To
Dan, of course. He's waiting for me. In bed."
"You're
going to make love to him again," I grind out, choking on the hateful
words and down on the pain. "Wasn't once enough?"
"Once?"
O'Neill raises his eyebrows. "I may be forty five but I'm not dead. And
yes, I'm going to do every single thing Dan wants me to and allows me
to. As often as I can in the little time we have left." He smirks at
me, licking his lips with relish as he opens the door. "Eat your heart
out."
I
am.
DANIEL
"Jack?"
Jack
shuts the door behind him. "The probe is showing a clear site. Kawalsky
is setting up a perimeter guard. If it still looks clear in two hours,
you have a go to return through the mirror." He sighs.
"That's
good news. I'm glad no one was hurt?" My voice rising in question.
"Very
low key operation after all the shooting yesterday. All my people are
fine. Otherwise it's terrible news."
Then
he grins and pounces, tumbling me down to the bed, kissing me madly,
his tongue thrusting down towards my tonsils. Deepening and softening
the kiss with long, tender strokes of his tongue against mine.
When
he releases me I smile up at him. "Your Daniel is a very lucky man."
"Ya
think?"
"I
think," I say gravely. "I'm him. I KNOW."
"What
if he tells me to take a hike?"
"Kiss
him," I instruct.
"What
if he's with someone?"
"He
won't be. It would have taken him a long time to get over Sha'uri and I
- I'm a bit of a loner. I don't feel all that comfortable around most
people. I've never been what you would call physically demonstrative."
"Ha!
This from the peaceful explorer himself!" Jack says gleefully.
I
hate he makes me blush again. "Except with you. Him. Both of you.
You'll be fine with your Daniel, take it from me."
"Think
he'd go nuts if I called him Spacemonkey?" Jack chuckles malevolently.
"Was
I drunk last night?" I groan. "Did I tell you everything?"
"No
hiding behind that lame excuse, kid. You drank water and yeah, pretty
much everything."
"Do
you know why he called me that?" I ask curiously.
"Yeah,
Dan, I do." Jack's eyes soften. "But it's private. If he hasn't told
you, I won't break the confidence."
"I
know you won't," I agree softly. "Now, about this just kissing? I'm
thinking we've got the 'just' but where's the kissing, hmm?" There's an
explosion of general against me. "Mmmmph - better - mmm. Mmm." I sigh
and snuggle in for my quality time, of which there is very little
remaining. There's something about a little sweet sin that makes it go
a very long way. It has to go a very long way because I won't be
getting any more, ever, not this particular flavour.
"Mmm
atcha!" Jack is also enthusiastic about sharing quality time. He proves
it to me for quite a lot of our time and curses a blue streak when he
has to answer the phone. I can see by the look on his face we can't
stave off the inevitable any longer. Time to go. I jump up and walk
into his waiting arms for a bone cracking hug.
I
have to swallow a lump in my throat. "Jack used to hug me like this," I
say gruffly. "Before - before he turned to Sam and shut me out."
"Lowlife
bastard," Jack growls, hugging me closer. "Ah, Dan, if only you'd let
me get naked. Morals are a pain in the ass. More of a pain even than I
wanted to be in your virgin ass."
"Jack!"
He
chuckles with no guilt whatsoever, thoroughly enjoying making me blush.
"Just
to be fair to my you, I'm gonna take him an MP5 and give him a short
head start. Sound okay?"
"I
don't use an MP5 and I can guarantee you he can't either."
"Then
I'll teach him. Like this." Jack spins me around and spoons up behind
me, his arms reaching along mine and taking my hands as he mimes
sighting a gun and pulling the trigger. It seems to necessitate what I
can only describe as a lot of snuggling and a developing - interest -
in a part of his anatomy that has never quite given up hope.
"Think
this would work on my Jack?" I sigh.
"Dan,
you breathing should be working on your Jack, because I swear, in all
the realities graced by your presence, it's working on every other
Jack."
"Just
my luck," I say, my voice trembling.
"Bastard.
I should just shoot him and take you back my - " Jack trails off. I
almost see the light bulb going off.
"No.
NO. He'll go nuts! You saw how he was this morning and he doesn't even
know! No," I insist.
"I
want to."
"No."
"But
I want to."
"No."
"I
could spend the night with you there too. Just to drive him that extra
bit crazy."
"Jack?
Is this about me or him?" I ask quietly.
"You
and me. I want to see your SGC. I need some evidence of how civilians
can be merged into a military operation."
"That
almost sounds plausible," I marvel, "If I didn't know you had a hidden
agenda."
"It's
not hidden. It's poking you in the butt. Your very pert and perfect
butt," Jack moans as I wriggle said butt against him. "You're damnably
hard hearted, Dan."
"You're
damnably hard, Jack," I say smugly.
"Can
I sleep over? At your place? Big bed?"
"Huge.
No. I have artefacts and neither of you is house trained, and anyway
I'm wandering from the point. You're not coming. No way."
"Are."
"Are
not."
"Are
too."
A
rap on the door has Jack - my Jack - bursting in behind it. He freezes
at the sight of us, spooned up together.
"I'm
just teaching Daniel how to shoot an MP5," Jack says chattily. "It's
all in the - wrist - action."
"Jack?
Are you feeling well? You look a little pale." He looks dreadful. I
shrug a slightly resistant Jack off and go to my Jack, touching my hand
gently to his forehead. No temperature.
"I
don't feel so hot. Feel nauseated for some reason," Jack says tiredly,
but he's smiling at me. A warm smile that goes with the curiously
gentle warmth in his eyes, making my heart skip a beat.
"I've
decided to pay a visit to your SGC," says an individual I recognise as
General O'Neill. Jack's eyes go flinty and he steps in front of me.
"Wanna
play in my house now?" he asks softly. "Bring it on, fl - er - I
wouldn't miss it for the world."
Jack
ostentatiously ignores my Jack, smiles warmly at me and strolls out the
door to make the necessary arrangements.
"Fl
- ?" I query.
"Fly
Boy," Jack admits, embarrassed. Then he looks at me searchingly, his
hand settling on my shoulder. His proximity makes me blush and shift in
front of him. After a moment he steps back, slipping his hand into his
pocket. "You okay, Daniel?"
I
feel the heat bloom in my cheeks. "Yes. Wh - why wouldn't I be?"
"No
reason," Jack admits, smiling that soft smile at me again. Then he
jerks his head at the door, "Time to hit the gate, Daniel. Let's go."
Two
identical looking men, yet only one of them makes me feel this way.
Totally alive, every nerve ending tingling with the sheer force of his
presence, and totally miserable because he's forever denied me. The
other is warm and tender, and wants me desperately, but if I let him
make love it would be for all the wrong reasons. We walk slowly to the
gateroom and wait, only patiently in my case, for Jack to join us. When
he does, he's in those jungle fatigues the marines wear and is what
I've heard so quaintly referred to as loaded for bear. He looks just as
comfortable as my Jack, which annoys him no end. Well, both of them
really.
I
insinuate myself between them, which has them both looking at me and
allows the boiling hostility to reduce to a simmer. Both Jack's step
closer and hover - er - protectively. Protecting me from what, I'm not
sure. When the gate activates, my Jack takes point, I take - um -
middle - and Jack takes the rear. I'm pretty sure I feel his hand on it
as we walk into the event horizon. We're both laughing when we emerge
on the other side, which irks my Jack considerably.
"Daniel,
you're with ME," he orders sharply so I trail into my accustomed place
at his shoulder.
"I've
got your six, Daniel," Jack calls provocatively.
"Watch
your intervals," Jack snaps.
And
so it goes, every step of the way from gate to mirror, making Kawalsky
smirk right until the point where he sees us safely through and Major
Deeley smirk every step of the way back from mirror to gate on our
side. Jack manages to get my six a couple times, even with the
audience. He's got lightning reflexes.
Jack
radioed ahead, so General Hammond has been briefed to expect a visitor.
I emerge from the event horizon to find the general, Sam, Teal'c and
Janet hovering in the gateroom and smile inclusively at them all. Jack
and my Jack settle back on either side of me.
"Welcome
to the SGC, General," George says calmly.
"Thank
you, General. I'm happy to be here," Jack says calmly. He's standing
slightly behind me.
I
lean in and breathe, "Don't even think about it," lips barely moving.
"No
fun, Spacemonkey," Jack breathes back.
"Daniel!"
my Jack snaps.
"Heel!"
Jack raps out in exactly the same tone of voice. "Good boy, Daniel." He
looks at me and mutters, "Asshole." Then he looks at my Jack again.
"Let's try to work on our people skills, shall we, Colonel?" before
strolling down the ramp to shake hands with George. George looks
slightly dazed as well as amused.
SAM
"Oh
my God!" Two of them.
"Woof!"
"Janet!"
I snap, shocked. She twinkles at me and I cave. "Woof. Woof."
"They
are SO doing it," she sighs.
"I
know, I can't believe it. They were only gone one night. Still, it's
past time. The colonel -"
"The
colonel? I mean the general!" Janet yelps.
"I
believe BOTH O'Neill's have a romantic interest in DanielJackson,"
Teal'c says smoothly.
We
all look. Two O'Neill's, hovering like avenging angels over Daniel's
shoulders, all sweetness and light to him and just hating the hell out
of each other.
"Oh
momma!" Janet groans. "Better have the Infirmary on full medical alert."
"The
morgue," I moan.
"Rutting
stags."
We
both turn to Teal'c in surprised admiration. He beams at us, without
twitching a muscle. He's ever quick with the bon mot.
"I
believe General O'Neill just placed his hand on DanielJackson's -"
"Derriere?"
Janet suggests, awed.
"Ditto,"
I gasp, eyeing certain incendiary emotions on the colonel's face as he
catches on. "Somebody - worse, another O'Neill - dared to lay hands on
his little Spacemonkey - right in front of him!" It's too terrifying to
contemplate. I had a brief flirtation with certain feelings vis a vis
the colonel earlier this year but a few things stopped me from taking
it further. I prefer the colonel to Jack. I prefer physics to the
colonel. The colonel prefers Daniel to me. C'est la vie. If the colonel
thinks any different he's damn well lying to himself and to his beloved
Spacemonkey. "I'm going to clean up in the 'Who's O'Neill Doing In This
Reality Pool'," I gloat.
"Me
too," Janet chuckles.
"As
will I," Teal'c agrees.
I've
always had my suspicions about the alternate reality Carter's.
Especially after I'd met one of them. I'm really embarrassed I'm such a
bitch as a civilian. After the appalling news broke about the
engagement, I grilled Daniel pretty thoroughly. My sweet baby spilled.
I deduced that General O'Neill may have been saddled with Sammie
Dearest (With Excruciating Hair Regrettably Not An Optional Extra) but
he took one look at our darling Daniel and melted like butter under a
blowtorch. If he hadn't died heroically doing the right thing for
Daniel's sake and if the world hadn't blown up in their faces, my money
would have been on flight plans to Egypt to be by the side of his very
own Daniel, not wedding plans with the alt bitch.
I'm
right about the hair. I know it. I briefly flirted with growing mine,
and sort of fell for the colonel, sort of lost all ability to function
as a rational human being with a will of her own and sort of became a
bitch. It's a bizarre twisted Samson thing.
I
am SO looking forward to this briefing. "Who's the smart money on?"
"The
general is smokin'," Janet insists.
"The
colonel," I decide. "He's sneaky!" I snap when they give me surprised
looks.
"I
believe DanielJackson has been intimate with General O'Neill. I regret
I will be forced to kill O'Neill if he has coerced DanielJackson in ANY
way."
"Get
in line," Janet snaps, eyes kindling. We keep a respectful distance.
She's the scariest person we know.
We
watch Daniel interacting with both O'Neill's, who are blatantly
competing for his total, undivided attention. He's starting to look a
little punchy, bless him. Fortunately, our general never picks up on
subtext or both O'Neill's would be in a cell right now for sexual
harassment, just for the naked, raw animal magnetism being projected at
Daniel in there. The O'Neill's are indeed smokin' when they're
dangerously jealous and pissy as hell.
They've
simply never looked better.
"A
tragedy looking for a place to happen," Janet mourns.
"Indeed."
"Guys,
we have to be prepared for the very real possibility one of them may
not survive the next twenty four hours," I smirk. "Looks like FUN!"
"Dr
Jackson graciously consented to allow me to stay with him," General
O'Neill announces as we take our seats. "At his place. I'm looking to
recruit our Dr Jackson to the Stargate programme and Daniel has
graciously consented to -"
Colonel
O'Neill's face freezes. "Give ya an oral debriefing?" he growls,
looking anywhere but at Daniel.
I
guess Daniel had better make that three for dinner.
"Dr
Jackson?" the general queries gently.
"I'll
vouch for Jack, General," Daniel says happily. "He's like my Jack," he
glances shyly up at the colonel, smiling tentatively, blushing a little.
The
colonel's face flushes too. I exchange surreptitious glances with Janet
and Teal'c. The colonel is IN LOVE. He's stone gone on Daniel. Love,
friendship, affection. Hideously embarrassing teenage crush. Rampaging
hormones. The works. In love.
Something
will have to be done. Before the colonel does something Daniel will
make him regret.
JACK
I
still can't believe General Hammond not only gave Il
Generalísimo the deluxe tour of the SGC, but pandered to his
every whim vis a vis seeing the civilians in action. This meant I was
hustled out of the way to do paperwork while O'Neill tenderly escorted
Daniel back to his office and spent the whole afternoon closeted with
him.
The
light is still on in the living room and off in the bedroom. It's not
late, but that's encouraging, right? Uncontrollable passion hasn't
dragged them into the bedroom or anything. Pretty sure.
I
can't see a goddamn thing, and I know it isn't the focus on the
binoculars, so banging them off the steering wheel is not helping.
Venetian frigging blinds.
I
check my watch. Damn. Only eight pm. They'll still be eating. They'll
eat and THEN O'Neill will pounce, carrying Daniel off to his own bed
for mind blowing hot sex.
Fuck
that!
I'm
outta the Explorer and across the street in Daniel's lobby before you
can say justifiable homicide. I smile at the doorman, who gives me a
very surprised look. He should do, he saw the other me walking in with
Daniel a couple hours ago. I'm not dumb. My brain might be in my shorts
but I'm not dumb. I've been watching the doorman too.
"I
went out for Scotch," I brandish a bottle of twenty five year old Glen
Farclas at him. "You weren't at the desk," I add sternly.
He's
still flushed and apologising as he ushers me into the elevator. I
while away the ride up to Daniel's floor trying to work out just how it
was Hammond agreed to hand over my Daniel to a rampant sex fiend like
O'Neill, and how the pair of 'em gave me the slip and snuck back here.
I
tap lightly on the door and wait impatiently. If O'Neill answers, I'm
punching his lights out, that's a given.
"Daniel!"
I'm smiling at him involuntarily. Blushing. Oh. My. God. Barefoot. Soft
pants. Softer shirt. Unbuttoned. Skin. Silken - warm - skin. Navel.
God. Blushing. Hair. Soft. Mussed. Swollen lips. Thoroughly - kissed.
Kissable.
MINE.
"NOT
yours - mmph!"
I
yank him out the door, spin us, get a good grip under his butt, lift
him. He hangs on crazily for balance, arms around my neck, legs
wrapping around my back as I shove us up against the wall and kiss him
wildly, reaming out his sweet - impossibly sweet - kissable mouth.
MINE.
My
tongue stroking against his, plunging down for his tonsils. Swiping
over his palette, making him whimper. Drowning in sensation, grinding
my hips against his, in perfect time with my tongue thrusting in his
mouth. Sobbing for breath and still hanging on. Never letting go.
"Good
evening, Daniel. Colonel Jack," a gentle voice rings out behind me,
making me jump. I reluctantly release Daniel's lips.
"G
-g - good evening, Mrs. Lewicki," Daniel stammers over my shoulder.
"Ma'am,"
I say politely. What can I do? She's seventy if she's a day.
"'Bout
damn time, Colonel Jack. Thought you boys would never get it together.
My goddamn cat knew before you did."
She's
a little old lady. I never said she was a nice little old lady.
I
become aware I have an achingly intimate armful of infuriated
archaeologist. I am in fact certain that putting Daniel down any time
soon is an immensely bad idea. With his legs wrapped around me like
this, he can't, for example, knee me in the groin. This is an action
his expression suggests he'd very much like to vigorously explore.
I
feel a chasm opening beneath my feet.
I've
also got years of Special Forces training. I gotta get out fast. I take
a deep breath, drop my love on his ass and leap back out of range,
anxiously asking if he's okay. It seems a little inadequate.
"No,"
Daniel whispers, as pale as he was flushed a moment ago.
"No!"
Daniel snaps as he makes it - shakily - to his feet.
"NO."
Daniel snarls as I close in on him again, fending me off with a hard
shove. He's trembling pitiably.
"NO!"
Daniel yells as he slams the door in my face. After a moment of ringing
silence, the door opens again. "You DON'T get to want me just because
he does! I am not your me, I'm MY me - and that goes for YOU too!" he
rages in the general direction of his living room.
I
guess O'Neill just got it in the neck too.
"No.
Jack, you don't get to have me. Not this way." His eyes are full of
hurt and sorrow. And profound disappointment. He closes the door gently.
Finally.
"Who's
there?"
"Colonel?"
"Colonel
who?"
"Colonel,
open the door!"
"Dunno
him. Doesn't live here. Sure you've come to the right place, Carter?"
"Sir!
If you don't open this door, Teal'c is busting it - dammit, Janet!"
"Or
we could just try the handle first, Sam. Toting that MP5 seems to be
lowering your IQ at the same time as it raises the testosterone level."
"Carter?
Is that you?"
"No,
Sir. It's Doctor Fraiser. Why don't you just give me that bottle and -
okay -Teal'c! Get in here!"
I
hug my bottle jealously. "Get your own. This was expensive. Older n'
me. Twenty five."
"Only
older than your hormones, then, Sir," Janet says cheerfully as the room
tilts and sways.
"Y'r
upside down," I say.
"No,
Colonel, that's you."
"Carter?
Is THAT you?"
"This
time it's me, Sir."
I
look down. "Who's this?"
"Teal'c."
"Teal'c
doesn't look like this."
"Not
from the front, Sir, no."
Teal'c
drops me on my sofa. I gain a Carter on one side and a Fraiser on the
other. Teal'c in front of me.
"Thass
my chair."
"Sir,
did you make the egregious error of going over there to see Daniel?"
Carter asks.
"Yess,"
I hang my head.
"What
happened?"
"I
kissed him."
"Get
some glasses," Janet groans after a very long silence.
Carter
pours the drinks. They look at the drinks. They drink the drinks. I sip
my black coffee. Teal'c is designated sane person.
"What
did you say to him, BEFORE you kissed him, Sir?" Carter asks. She does
that a lot.
"I
said Daniel." They look at me. I been interrogated. I look down. You
don't talk until irreparable damage has been done and then you lie. "I
said - I said MINE. Then I kissed him." Wasn't I supposed to lie?
"Dear
God," Janet groans again.
Janet
pours the drinks. They look at the drinks. They drink the drinks.
"What
kind of kiss? Soft, romantic?" Janet begins hopefully.
"I
picked him up, shoved him against a wall and stuck my tongue down his
throat. Next door's cat said it was about goddamn time."
"Oh."
"O'NEILL.
When you have returned to sobriety I will be forced to harm you."
"Shoot
me. Whatever." I turn to Carter desperately. "I dropped him on his ass
and he said No, No, No, No."
"No?"
"Yes!"
I sigh. "He said he was his me not my me."
Carter
sighs. Janet sighs. Teal'c is too busy glaring to be sympathetic.
"He
said 'Jack, you don't get to have me. Not this way'."
"WHAT?"
Don't
yell, Carter. Got a broken heart, here.
"Sir!
Why didn't you say something sooner! For God's sake, men always miss
the damn point," Janet snaps.
"O'Neill
gets my Daniel and he gets his Daniel too. Goin' to get him when he
gets home."
"That's
SO romantic," Carter says dreamily.
"It's
not fair. Why does he get to have both?" I mourn.
"At
least you're in other realities, sir," Janet complains, drinking a
drink I don't remember her looking at.
"I
destroy the Earth," Teal'c intones.
"I'm
a bitch with bad hair," Carter flinches when we all look at her.
As
trauma goes, that's not bad, a fact we all acknowledge, but…
"I
want my Daniel," I say pathetically. "But my Daniel wants me. He
doesn't want ME."
"Sir,
he does want YOU. Don't you understand? Daniel saying no," Carter
begins.
"Whispers,
snaps, snarls, YELLS no," I say sadly, hanging my head.
"Whoo!
Must have been one HELL of kiss," Janet admires.
"Yep!"
Carter agrees happily.
"Can
we make my tragedy a little less upbeat?"
"It's
not a tragedy, sir, unless you screw it up again. Daniel saying no was
a very encouraging sign. It means he feels very differently about YOU
kissing him than he does about the General kissing him!"
"HAMMOND's
been kissing my Danny too! Sonovabitch!"
"General
O'Neill, Sir," Carter is trying not to laugh.
"Oh.
Not that I'm jealous or anything…"
"Perish
the thought, Sir," Janet assures me. Her voice is shaking.
"Your
timing was inappropriate, O'Neill," Teal'c unexpectedly enters the
tragedy-fest. "What was DanielJackson to think but that you were
jealous of O'Neill and wished to partake of what DanielJackson had
surrendered up to O'Neill so freely?"
"He
was seduced by that bastard! He didn't surrender anything! And I don't
wish to partake - I mean I DO, of COURSE, have you SEEN him? He
beautiful! - but it's because I LOVE him, not because I'm a horny
bastard." There is a certain judgemental quality to the silence. "As
well as being a horny bastard," I amend sullenly.
"You
have to prove you love Daniel, Sir. Wait until O'Neill has gone, and
try a romantic gesture," Carter suggests.
"Concentrate
on talking, on FEELINGS. Be sensitive and caring."
"No
sex, Janet?" Sounds lame. "Have you ever SEEN him? Y'know? My Daniel?"
I ask incredulously. And they've both got more drinks which they are
drinking. "Hotter than Mount Vesuvius."
"NO,
Sir. Do the talking right and you might get to make love, though."
"Not
even a little -"
"NO!"
"NO!"
"I
will be forced to inflict permanent damage."
He'd
be worth it. Whadda I do? What's a suitably romantic gesture? "I know!"
"NOT
fishing!"
"Damn!
Wasn't even THINKING that."
"You
were."
We
brood. They drink more drinks. I drink more coffee. I have no dating
skills. I was married. You don't date people you're married to. I have
military skills. Tactics. Weapons. Black Ops.
How
romantic is kidnapping?
DANIEL
"I'm
going to miss you," I sigh, snuggling into Jack's welcoming arms one
last time.
"I'm
going to miss you too, Dan. The other Daniel? Even if things work out,
well, he won't be you. He'll be him. Y'know?"
That's
Jack, inarticulate to the last, once you've ploughed through his
bullshit. "I know," I say gently as his lips close on mine for the very
last time.
"Spacemonkey.
Yeah," Jack sighs in my ear.
"It's
fun to canoodle with a general in an elevator on a military base,
especially after the way SOME military personnel have treated me
recently."
Jack
seems to be laughing at me. "You shoulda let me punch his lights out."
"I
don't know how he DARED to turn up out of the blue and kiss me like -
like THAT!" I rage.
"I
know. It bothered you. Terribly. All night. I could hear your moans of
- er - distress, and was happy to comfort them away once you'd woken
up."
"I
was distressed," I say with quelling dignity.
"Extremely.
Moaning in a truly heart-rending fashion," Jack agrees calmly. "I never
assumed for a second that just because you were in love with him and he
makes your heart skip a beat every time he smiles you, you would be
anything other than deeply distressed he picked you up and kissed you
in a rampantly Alpha Male display of -"
"Shut
up, Jack."
"Would
that exact approach work on my Daniel?" Jack asks hopefully, after a
respectful silence.
"Absolutely,"
I sigh mournfully.
We
walk into the gateroom side by side. Jack shakes hands with George,
with Teal'c, with Sam and Janet, who are both rather pale and wearing
sunglasses, rather like female Air Force Blues Brothers. My Jack is
also wearing his sunglasses, which makes most of the blood in my body
plummet straight down.
"Photosensitivity
experiment went wrong," Sam explains fluently, wincing.
"Medical
necessity," Janet squeaks, holding her head.
"Uugh,"
Jack groans.
The
klaxon seems to be causing them actual physical pain.
"General."
Jack nods. Then he cuts my Jack dead and hugs me. "Been a pleasure, Dr
Jackson."
"Good
luck," I say earnestly.
Jack
glances at my Jack. "Bad luck," he says sincerely. Then he nods at all
of us and strides up the ramp and away from us forever. I sigh again.
"Photosensitivity?
Try hangovers," George contradicts sternly. "I'll see the three of you
in my office later, and we can talk about the joys of temperance. Dr
Jackson, Teal'c."
"Daniel
-"
"I
have work to do, Jack, so if you'll excuse me?" I say haughtily,
turning on my heel and marching out. I think I hear a scuffle breaking
out but don't look back.
"Two
flat tires? How could I possibly have gained two flat tires since this
morning?" I rage.
"I
have no idea." Jack says carefully, eyeing me warily from a safe
distance. "But it looks like you're going to have to let me drive you
back."
When
I don't cave instantly, Jack loses his temper.
"For
God's sake, Daniel, don't be so damn childish. I can hardly pounce on
you while I'm driving, can I?" His eyes soften. "And you're dead on
your feet. Two nights without sleep."
I
blush furiously. I think it would be far more humiliating for me to
admit Jack and I didn't have sex than it is for my Jack to assume we
had sex.
Jack's
face softens even more and a gentle hand cups my head for a moment.
"Let me take you, Daniel, please?"
I
hate myself for being weak as I stare at his lips and swallow. I trail
along helplessly in his wake. Why does he have to be so sexy? It's not
fair on sex starved people like myself. At least he isn't wearing his
sunglasses, that's something, I suppose. Won't be drooling on his
steering wheel or - Oh.
"You
look exhausted, Daniel. Why don't you rest your eyes for a while?" Jack
asks as we drive away.
If
it means I don't have to look at those sunglasses or answer awkward
questions…I obediently close my eyes. Just for a second.
"Danny?
Danny, come on. We're here," Jack is at the door on my side of the
Explorer, gently shaking me awake. I open my eyes drowsily and am
purely happy to see him. I smile. Jack blushes and smiles back. I'm a
little dazed, so I don't exactly protest when he helps me out of the
car and hustles me up the path to an open door. I realise nothing is
familiar, but he's moving so quickly I don't get a chance to utter a
protest until we're inside.
I
find myself staring at a tasteful bureau, an open fire and a lot of
comfortable, overstuffed sofas. Antiques. Wooden floors and walls.
Tapestries. Handsewn cushions. We're in B & B 'antiquing' land, I
think. What the heck is going on? Why is Jack holding my hand?
An
elderly man bustles out and smiles at us, not a whit put out by the
sight of two men holding hands, or more accurately one man holding
firmly onto a hand the other man is vainly trying to yank free.
"Walt?"
The man nods. "Jack O'Neill. Bed." Jack announces with magnificent
disregard for my stuttering and yanking.
"And
breakfast?" Walt queries, twinkling at me.
Kidnapping
is no excuse for bad manners, so I smile back.
"In
bed. Along with dinner," Jack says cheerfully.
Bed?
Jack - me - bed. In said bed. Help. Me.
"Don't
want him getting away from me!"
Walt
looks a question and Jack grins.
"Kinda
kidnapped him, you know how that goes."
"Indeed.
You're welcome to use the elevator, but perhaps it would be more fun to
just carry him upstairs?" Walt suggests, grinning all over his face.
"You'd
make a lousy hostage negotiator," I say bitterly, "You're supposed to
be on the side of the victim."
Jack
and Walt exchange long looks.
"Who
says he's not?" Jack mutters cryptically. He eyes the stairs
thoughtfully.
"NO!"
"No?"
"Please,
Jack," I plead.
Jack
takes pity and leads me - still by the hand - over to the elevator. My
heart is pounding, making me feel almost sick with excitement. Jack
wants to go to bed with me. He wants to be in a bed, with me. That's
more than territorialism, right? That's not like the kiss of last
night. He might just as well have pissed on me as kissed me for all
that meant.
Jack
wants to go to bed with me. Oh God. I don't know what to do. I can
kiss. That's all I can do. What if he wants to do more? Of course he
wants to do more. We've got the honeymoon suite. I want to do more. I
don't know what and I don't know how, but I want more. I do.
Maybe
- maybe Jack knows what to do? The other Jack knew. That's good. That's
bad. He'll be good. I'll be bad. I'll be bad and that's sad.
The
bridal room, when he pulls me inside and slams the door, is beautiful.
It has a huge four poster that could comfortably sleep the whole of
SG-1. It has a stunning hand-made comforter. Oak on floors, walls,
furniture. Everything rich blues and creams, old shades. Plants
everywhere. Roaring fire. Bed. Big bed.
"You
want to go to bed with me!"
"No."
Jack is surprised. "I brought you here to talk."
My
face falls and I fall down too, to the edge of the bed, quite deflated.
Oh.
"I
didn't mean to scare ya! Crap. Don't worry, Danny, I won't lay a finger
on you, I swear. We just have to - to clear the air."
"Oh."
I swallow with difficulty. He doesn't want me. I'm not good looking
enough or - or interesting enough. Not sexy. Boring old Danny. Not sexy
at all. "I'm tired," I whisper.
"You
could lie down!" Jack suggests, pouncing on his overnight bag and
handing me a parcel. "You can lie down - here - and I can sit over -
there - and we can talk."
He
can't get far enough away, can he? I quietly open my present from Jack.
Pyjamas. He bought me pyjamas. Good boy, Daniel. Don | 
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