A DINNER OF HERBS BY BIBLIO: A CURSE AND A BLESSING PART THREE

Slash:	Jack and Daniel involved in a loving and committed relationship, which usually involves sex.
Rating:	NC-17
Category:	Established Relationship.  Humour.  Romance.
Season/Spoilers:	Season 5.  Everything up to "The Tomb."
Synopsis:	"Better is a dinner of herbs, where love is." Maybe Jack and Daniel don't get to have everything, but what they do have, they have together and for them, that's pretty damn good.
Warnings:	None.
Length:	262 Kb  Download a printer-friendly PDF version of the story.

"Cheesecake?" Daniel demanded, stopping dead as he took in the table full of O'Neills, none of them looking in the least guilty at being caught eating the remains of last night's selection of defrosted desserts for breakfast. He scowled at Jack who gave him a cheery little wave in return. "So much for your offer to make breakfast, he grumbled.

"I made you breakfast," Jack protested, eyes twinkling.

"Someone got laid last night," Ruth muttered over the toffee muffin she was slowly licking the fudge off.

There was a chorus of grunted acknowledgements and a brief battle over the last chocolate muffin, won conclusively by Joe. Jack had to make do with the blueberry.

Daniel saw his place set with the best crystal, china and silverware, along with the good linen napkins. He had a fruit smoothie, which Jack objected to on a daily basis on the grounds that eating healthy depressed him. Jack wasn't depressed this morning. He was smug. The colonel was in fact dangerously close to chipper. He'd blended vitamin laden fruits and natural yoghurt. He'd rather ruined the effect with the Eggs Benedict and the still-warm bread dripping butter. Daniel knew Jack zapped the rolls in the microwave for thirty seconds to get the effect, but it was the thought that counted.

Apparently everyone thought Jack got laid last night.

He sighed and took his seat. So much for discretion. He'd thought they were safe from the folks with all that distance, good line of sight and a door that zipped. But even he had to admit that Jack looked like a man who got laid last night. He was at one with his world in general and Daniel in particular.

"It's the shirt," he muttered apologetically as Jack's hand wandered around his waist.

"It's lovely," Kate approved. "It brings out your eyes."

"Why do women say that?" Jack asked, fondling Daniel's ass approvingly through the tight navy dress pants.

Daniel knew Jack was very fond of the pleated fronts. It made the pants cling even tighter at the back. Daniel had to put up with a lot of 'peach' jokes every time he wore these pants. There was a very good reason his closet was full of long, loose, light jackets and he dressed in layers. The colonel couldn't keep his hands off. The more barriers Daniel threw between Jack and his skin, the greater his chances of not having sex in places they really, really shouldn't.

"Every time he turns up for work in his good suit and this pale blue shirt, Carter and Fraiser get all gooey and girlie and tell him it brings out his eyes. It's a chick thing. It's not a guy thing," Jack elaborated unnecessarily.

The guy thing for Jack to do when Daniel was wearing this shirt was to pin him against the bookshelves in his office and kiss the shit out of him, right after remembering they'd promised not to do anything on base ever.

Ruth and Kate looked at Jack in mild astonishment.

"Skin," Ruth said tersely, waving her muffin at Daniel.

"Skin?" Jack echoed, eyeing Daniel doubtfully.

"I told you," Kate said patiently. "The first time I laid eyes on Daniel I stood right there and said he had skin like a baby's butt."

Daniel scowled at her.

"Those ivory tones," Ruth added approvingly. "Clinique would kill for foundation that colour."

"That smooth," Kate sighed enviously. "Look at those pores."

Joe and Jack looked interestedly.

"The pale blue of the shirt lifts those skin tones, making Daniel's eyes seem even more lovely," Kate added approvingly. "I've never seen a more beautiful man."

Daniel cringed, shuddering violently. Jack patted him in sorrowful commiseration.

Beautiful?

"Me either," Ruth sighed. She glared at Jack. "Undeserving bastard."

Jack beamed at her.

Beautiful?

"Beautiful?" Joe asked his wife disapprovingly. "You don't say that to a guy, even if…"

"Especially if it's true," Jack interrupted.

Hey! Weren't they supposed to be in this, guys together? All for one and one for all? The rule didn't seem to apply when Daniel was the one.

"Exactly!" Joe agreed. "Do you have any idea how it makes a man feel to be objectified that way?"

"Yes," Daniel interjected bitterly, glaring at Ruth and Kate, who both smiled blandly back at him. It wasn't just moms who got embarrassing. "It's amazing how sappy some guys get in the post-coital glow."

Jack cleared his throat nervously and pounced on the last wedge of strawberry-heaped cheesecake.

"Don't tell me!" Kate held up a warning hand. "He's got a thing for your ass."

"Too obvious," Ruth sneered. "The nape of your neck."

Kate glanced at her in surprised admiration. "Not as obvious as those elegant hands and feet." She grinned at Daniel. "The small of your back."

All of the above. But mostly his eyelashes.
 

"What time is Sara expecting you?" Jack asked as he wheeled Ruth through the entrance to the florists shop.

As far as Daniel could see, Winter Park was a small town, and Petals appeared to be the only florists. Kate had flatly vetoed the only alternative Jack had offered, which was buying flowers at Safeway. Things like that were important to Kate and Ruth; they couldn't understand why they weren't important to Jack.

Daniel was somewhere in the middle of it all, understanding both points of view, and appealed to by both sides. Joe had wisely kept out of it.

Where they bought the flowers made no difference to Charlie, and ultimately made no difference to Jack, who lived and breathed his son, and always would. Time and distance didn't matter to him. He never forgave and he tried to forget. He didn't always succeed. Daniel had tactfully pointed out it did make a difference to Kate and Ruth, so they were here at Petals for their sake more than for Charlie's.

He was anxious about Jack, hovering close, glad Jack never minded having him near, so it wasn't too obvious. Ruth reached up and took his hand, smiling gently. It was awkward to walk this way, but it made her happy.

"Looking good this morning, Ruth," Jack said lightly.

"I keep in fightin' shape, Jack, you know that," Ruth retorted, making a little pinching gesture in the air.

There was a soft murmur of laughter from Kate and Joe.

Daniel had to admit he was out of his depth. He fell back to watch as Kate and Ruth gloated over the flowers, the sea of colour and silky scents perfuming the air. They admired a bewildering variety of blooms, Joe giving his opinion as a keen gardener, the sales clerk lifting down the flowers for them to inhale ecstatically.

Jack nudged Daniel in the ribs, jerking his head towards the rear of the store. "I doubt anyone but Sara would have ever got Charlie to admit it, but he did have a favourite flower," he said softly. "Every Mother's Day." He nodded at a tall plastic pot filled with daisies, splashes of bold, bright colour. "Sara's favourite too. He'd buy her a bunch of these." Jack gently touched a fragile petal. "He'd sit in the garden for hours making her daisy chains for her birthday because she loved them so much." He shook his head. "I used to have to pretend not to notice because he was so damned embarrassed about it." Jack's face twisted. "Birthdays I was home for."

Daniel glanced over his shoulder, saw everyone was fully occupied, and slipped his hand into Jack's. Jack smiled a little and squeezed his fingers. "You can talk to me?" Daniel offered hesitantly, not wanting to push but needing Jack to know it was okay. It didn't hurt him to hear about Charlie when Jack loved him so much. He could even take hearing about Sara, because in a way it gave him even more of Jack. "If it would help?"

"It usually does," Jack said dryly.

Daniel looked at him, surprised by the tone.

"Not too bright, here. Takes me a while to figure out what things mean sometimes," Jack muttered. "As in, you're the only one I've ever felt the urge to spill my guts to." He thought about this for a minute. "Cannot in fact keep my yap shut," he amended wryly. "The only one, Daniel," he added softly, tightening his hold on Daniel's hand.

Daniel was flushed with gratitude, a little shaken by the unexpected confidence. Not that he was in competition with Sara, he really hoped he was above that sort of pettiness and insecurity, but it was good to know he offered something to Jack, something that was his alone. Sometimes it felt like he was the one who had the best of their relationship. He got Jack and all Jack got was…him.

"Wanna go Dutch?" Jack asked, nodding at the daisies. "Get a big bunch?" There was a soft look in his eyes for a moment. "A really big, embarrassing bunch you have to wheel through the whole neighbourhood in the basket of your mom's bike."

Daniel chuckled and helped Jack lift down the whole container of flowers.

"Tie a bow on them and we're good to go," Jack teased.

Kate and Ruth had chosen a variety of different flowers, vivid reds, warm oranges and sunny yellows.

"He always used to run out of those colours first in his paint box and crayons," Jack told Daniel. "He used to draw the sun in the corner of the page, colour it yellow, and use the red and orange to make the rays. Lots of little dashes round the edge, first red, then orange, row after row of them."

He hadn't lowered his tone, but Daniel was so focused on him it took him a moment to realise everyone was watching and listening.

"I still have some of his pictures," Kate observed, her tone not quite a question. An offer, but not an intrusive one.

Jack nodded his acknowledgment he'd heard her but said nothing, turning to the clerk to plant the container of daisies up on the counter.

Daniel caught the slight warning shake of Joe's head, then Kate moved to her husband's side and snuggled into him. He slid his arm around her, the two of them quietly watching Jack.

It gave Daniel an odd pang to see them. He remembered the confidence he'd had as a small child, so involved in his parents' world. Too involved. He hadn't been prepared in any way for the incessant, rigid routine of school. He was slow to grasp he wasn't meant to question so persistently, or think for himself so emphatically, or ever straight out tell a teacher she was wrong. His schools had wanted nothing from him but that he achieve and that he fit in. Daniel was only capable of the former, too capable, and he had never been able to fit in. He was always on the outside looking in.

He still remembered being afraid all the time, afraid of the strangers who made his decisions for him, afraid to let anyone get close or put his trust in them. He knew what love and trust cost. It was in his nightmares for so long after his parents died. Every night he would see that cover stone fall and it exhausted him. He hadn't been prepared for Nick to say no. He'd thought it was over. He was…not happy, at the time he'd doubted he'd ever be that again, but he would be...safe. With family, of a sort. With a life he knew and understood and could fit himself to. He had taken the risk, trusted that one last time, Nick had crushed him with a 'no' and he'd never offered up his trust again.

None of the families he was placed with were bad, just…mundane. None of the anxious couples looking to bond with a child they would keep wasted time on Daniel. It turned out that Nick had some family pride. He didn't want Daniel, but he made it impossible for anyone else to take him. It meant a life of short-term placements with professional care givers. Not all of them did it only for the money, some were caring, community-minded. He'd never been abused or mistreated by the stream of people paid to take him in. He just didn't fit, and in busy lives, didn't really matter. He learned pragmatism very quickly, found a sort of safety in it, in understanding that it would be worse for the families to care about him when he did move on. He was a responsibility, not a privilege or a joy.

To live with the pragmatism, Daniel developed stoicism. He hit the ground running in every placement, took care of his own needs as much as possible. Asked for as little as possible. Learned quickly to expect nothing. He would ask for one thing he really wanted for Christmas or his birthday, nothing unreasonable, he was too disciplined for that, but something he did want. He would always get his one thing, it was like a business deal, guaranteeing he was one problem the families wouldn't have on a heavy Christmas Day. Sometimes he got more than he asked for, astonished that anyone paid attention.

It happened. He'd just learned not to look for it, to never, ever rely on it.

Looking at Kate and Joe now, he realised how very different it could be. He'd heard it said that you didn't just love your children, you fell in love with them. That this was the only bond that deepened over time. Kate and Joe would never stop trying to run Jack's life for him because they loved him, and he wouldn't want them to quit on him. Jack got his confidence from them always being there for him, no matter what. It was easy for him to trust because he'd always had that. His parents embraced every part of his life, except what hurt him so much he kept them away from it.

Daniel could understand why they'd loved Sara, why they loved him too. They were each a part of Jack and his parents could no more cut themselves off from the people Jack loved than they could themselves off from their beloved son.

Maybe it was the same for Daniel's parents, but he'd never know. He'd also never feel what Kate and Joe felt. The closest he would get to fatherhood was this bond he shared with Shifu. A part of Sha'uri lived on in both of them, and that was enough for him. Daniel had Jack and he was happy. Trusting. Falling…

He was surprised to feel Jack's hand cupping his ass, shifting discreetly away.

"Just borrowing fifty bucks," Jack explained casually, "I left my wallet in my other pants." He extracted Daniel's wallet from his pocket, then fifty bucks from his wallet. "What have I told you about carrying cash?" he complained as he handed the money over. "Carry these, willya?" He swung the huge bouquet of daisies off the counter and dropped it into Daniel's arms. "I don't want my shirt getting all drippy."

Daniel just looked at him.

"I'll carry your wallet," Jack offered fair-mindedly.

Oh, yeah. Daniel was just falling deeper in love every minute with the big jerk.
 

Contrary to popular opinion, Jack had been to visit Charlie's grave. When his blue crystal carbon copy had done such a good job blurting out Jack's feelings to Sara, he'd had no choice but to sit down and talk with her. Like a rational adult or something. He didn't know what he'd hoped, but getting back with Sara was just…it was impossible. They both walked away feeling more settled, more sure of themselves and of being apart. Jack had figured it was the best he could hope for. Sara had left him and she was too wise to come back.

Jack had been able to visit Charlie after he'd found some peace with Sara. Not often, never planned. The need would take him and he'd get in his truck and drive, find himself here. He never brought flowers. He didn't know how often Sara came here and didn't want her facing such a shocking reminder of his absence in her life. He would only stay for a while, quietly sitting with his back against the gravestone. Sit and think. Even here he tried not to remember.

He glanced across at Daniel, looking around at this sunny spot in the cemetery without being too obvious about it, fixing it all in his mind so he'd be ready…if Jack was ready…

Jack was ready. That was the problem. Well, not really a problem, not fair to say it was a problem. Not per se. He just had difficulty sometimes facing the fact Daniel basically owned his ass. Being with Daniel had, not always directly, forced Jack to face a whole lot of stuff about himself he'd never seen and didn't particularly want to deal with. Especially the stuff about how he was with Sara.

It was apples and oranges. His wife. His lover. He tried hard not to compare and contrast but sometimes, he found himself thinking about the two of them, and about himself.

He honestly didn't know why it was Daniel who wormed through his defences, who got him to open up even when he didn't want to and he thought it was a godawful bad idea. The two of them talked so much, they'd even talked about this. Daniel was wrong for Jack and Jack was wrong for Daniel and together, their two wrongs made a right. And no, they didn't know why. They weren't even sure what it was that made them work so well, only that they did.

Jack loathed playing the 'what if' game with himself. He tried to stick with what was. The basic truth of this thing he had with Daniel was he put more into it. He put someone else first, wasn't quite so much the centre of his world, blithely expecting everyone else would revolve around him, relying on his charm to pick them up after he put them down. He gave them enough he kept them right on revolving, kept them hungry, coming back for more. He didn't get away with that where Daniel was concerned.

Daniel wasn't a game player in the way Jack understood people to be. Happy inside his own head and with his own company, Daniel didn't need much. He had too many inner resources to be dependent and the life he'd led had left him with this curious blind spot about how relationships worked. Left to his own devices, Jack wasn't sure Daniel would ever have gone looking to share his life with someone. He just didn't need it. Not finding anything lacking in his solitude, too individual to conform to any stereotype, Daniel came willingly into this thing with Jack without any preconceived notion of what their thing was supposed to be. He didn't expect anything, didn't demand anything, contentedly, simply assuming they'd work out together what they were meant to be, that it would take time and that they would fuck up and get past it. Daniel just figured they'd go right on being friends who could kind of talk to each other about stuff.

For Jack, this had about the same electric effect as a cattle prod to the gonads. Instead of getting more complicated, his life eased up on him in all kinds of unexpected ways. Maybe Daniel was too serious, too organised, too damned interested in old stuff and too clever by half, but in just about every other respect, he was pretty near perfect. He was intense about Jack but adored him so much it was funny, when Jack busted his balls he just turned around and busted right back, and it never occurred to him to ride Jack about shit that didn’t matter, shit that had shifted the ground from under his feet and made battlegrounds with Sara.

Most of all, Daniel knew Jack. There was no need for Jack to watch what he said or did, no need to wall off the ugly part of himself, no illusions or impossibly naïve expectations to damn him whether he opened up or shut out. Daniel was in it with Jack, he was part of it all. He understood. Jack had no secrets to keep and nothing left to hide.

It was three kinds of wonderful. It made him think, from time to time, how badly he'd screwed it up with Sara and how they could seem so great together and be so wrong for each other. On paper, the perfect couple. Exactly the opposite of him and Daniel, huh?

Was it disrespectful, was it wrong of him to come here, to Charlie, and think about his life? Charlie had been all about life and Jack had made mistakes with him too. Those, he was never going to touch and he knew it. It was too hard. Working through the other stuff, the things that helped him live and go on, he figured that was okay. It got him through.

Charlie's love had had as few limits as Daniel's did. What Jack had learned from Charlie was to hold on tighter. Give a little more.

He came here from time to time, to be and to think, and this small space with Charlie in it was so perfect, he knew Sara did too. They weren't together, they never would be again, but they were getting through.

Jack figured Charlie would want that for them.

At the graveside, his Mom and Dad were standing very close, their arms around each other, not needing to talk. Or they weren't talking only because Jack was with them and as long as he was, they would put him first. It was difficult for them to be here and to have to hold back emotions they felt would hurt him. Close by his Mom, Ruth had tears in her eyes she was trying to brush away. He realised they needed a quiet time alone, a time for their feelings about Charlie, not his.

Jack didn't say anything. He only strolled away, setting an ambling pace, smiling a little as Daniel tucked in automatically at his shoulder, right where he was supposed to be. There were benches in the cemetery, set around a kind of a rose garden with a fountain in its centre. All the paths led to it if you let them. It was a transitional place, a way to be here and keep a small distance, a place to sit and remember, to be close without the stark reminder of a headstone.

"Tell me something," Jack invited Daniel, wanting to fill the time with something good, something for them. "Anything. A thing you never told me before."

"Since you shut me up most every time I try to tell you anything I've never told you before, you're going to have to narrow this down for me." Daniel, as he walking along, was stealing nice little looks at Jack. Not intruding, only saying he was here and ready to get into the serious stuff with Jack if needed.

Jack moved a step closer, letting their arms brush as they walked a slow circuit around the garden. "Not about what you do," he said lightly. "About you."

"I guess you won't buy 'there's nothing to tell'?" Daniel checked, just in case.

"You know it."

"What mood do you want to be in after I've told you this new thing?"

"Nice."

"That doesn't leave me a lot of room for manoeuvre." Daniel made this a joke, inviting Jack to share in the many ironies of his life.

"Tell me what you thought of me the first time you saw me?" Jack asked lazily. He'd thought about this from time to time and figured if he was ever in the mood for make-up sex before they were actually fighting, this would probably do it for them.

"I thought you wanted to be in a nice mood?"

Jack shot him a withering look. "Okay, so how about you fill me in on this Skippy thing?"

"One of Sam's friend from the observatory at Mt. Stromlo sent her the series on video. It's the Australian version of Lassie."

"With kangaroos?"

"Skippy the Bush Kangaroo."

"That's just wrong!"

"Maybe if you weren't still watching Lassie Saturday mornings, you wouldn't feel the indignity so strongly."

"Don't start with the glossy coat cracks again," Jack warned Daniel threateningly, still bitterly regretting a hideously embarrassing wet dream when he was caught out napping through a classic movie moment. So much for the sanctity of a man's den. "Just tell me something personal. Something about you. For once, humour me." He let a finger hook cajolingly around Daniel's for a moment as they walked. "C'mon. Something personal. For me, Daniel. Give it up."

"Personal? New and personal? New and personal but leaving you feeling 'nice'?" Daniel clarified carefully.

Jack gave a sharp nod in response, looking not so much inviting as demanding.

"This could take all day."

Jack dug his elbow in Daniel's ribs.

"Okay, okay!" Daniel put up his hands in surrender. "How about this? You distract me."

"Have I been unclear about the point of this exercise?" Jack complained aggrievedly, certain now Daniel was trying to drive him out what little was left of his mind. "Tell me something I don't know."

"I don't think you know this, Jack, not really," Daniel said with a hint of a smile.

"So tell me more," Jack invited him softly.

"I think about you."

"We're doing good so far. How do I distract you? Count the ways."

"If you're expecting me to get all starry-eyed and sappy on you, don't," Daniel advised him crisply. "You annoy the crap out of me."

For Jack, this had a definite appeal.

"When I'm supposed to be working on a translation, I'm thinking about you. When I'm trying to read, I'm thinking about you. When I'm trying to just keep my head straight and concentrate, I'm thinking about you." The ire in Daniel's eyes suggested he felt strongly about the injustice of this. Also, it was manifestly Jack's fault. "I always used to think about language and history and the interconnectivity of ancient cultures," he said with a certain regret.

"Meaning of life stuff," Jack supplied obligingly, steering them onto another rambling circuit through the roses.

"Exactly!" Daniel gave an emphatic little bounce.

"But now you think about the meaning of your life?" Jack suggested tranquilly, liking the sound of this very much.

"It annoys me when I do it," Daniel asserted vigorously. "It annoys me more when I can't stop doing it."

"It doesn't annoy me at all," Jack chose to divulge.

Daniel glared at him.

"You spend so much time with your nose in those books, I never suspected I was beating them out."

"I don't like it," Daniel explained, in case this was in any way unclear.

"I gathered."

"I just can't stop it."

"Is all of this thinking focused in any way on jumping my bones?" Jack enquired, always willing to exploit a potential sexual weakness in the name of a healthy relationship.

"I wish," Daniel said gloomily. "That wouldn't be so bad."

"Ah. I see." Jack sagely nodded his appreciation of the full extent of Daniel's dilemma. "All this thinking would be where the starry-eyed and sappy stuff comes in, would it?"

Daniel's baleful look was more in the nature of a confirmation than a denial.

"I love you too, you know," Jack reminded him.

"That makes it worse," Daniel grumped.

"Don’t get carried away with the idea you're some sort of selfish bastard," Jack advised affectionately. "Apart from your refusal to have sex in certain desirable exotic locations," he hinted heavily, "You're pretty okay. Speaking from personal experience, I can say with confidence you have to actually think about yourself from time to time before you can beat yourself up for being selfish. In your case, we're talking at most oblivious."

"Oblivious?" Daniel tried the word on for size and didn't like it.

"Flaky." This was another useful trigger-word Jack had found for make-up sex. "It's not like people don't know it when they get into things with you."

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Daniel mulled this over.

"You're a geek. From where I stand, that just means you have enthusiasms." Jack mulled too. "Your enthusiasms tend to be, not sure how to put this, bigger than you are. You can't go for something solid and traditional like hockey or fishing, you have to get into the meaning of life, the greatest endeavours of man and the entire history of everything, ever. And how they spell it. In twenty-three languages, no less. Kind of hard to put limits on that. It's too damn big. So damn big, it's never left a whole lot of time or room for you to just be...you."

"That's your definition of flaky?"

"It's not nearly so lame as your definition of love."

"I'd say honours were about even, myself," a critical voice struck from ambush to their rear.

They turned to find Kate dimpling up at them.

"You're such nice boys," she stated with superbly offensive pride. "I only came to tell you we're headed over to see Sara now." There was a suspiciously bright glint in her eyes, but she only smiled and came up to snuggle tight in Jack's arms for a minute.

He felt sorry for what he guessed was his mother's pained realisation he'd moved on from Charlie and Sara. However little she'd heard of it, the simple fact of his having this kind of conversation, in this place, proved to her more directly than any argument he could put to her that he'd let go of the past.

His focus was on the present and the future now, on his life with Daniel and making the best of that. It would hurt her for a while but good would come of it. Good came of most things he'd learned with Daniel.

Kate would soon remember she'd wished this very thing to happen for him and be happy and grateful that it had.

For now, she was seeing what Jack had lost, not what – and who – he'd gained.
 

The party got off to a rousing start when Grandpa George arrived with Tessa and Kayla, who ran shrieking into Jack's arms for cuddles. They were decked out in their best party frocks and wore old-fashioned sunbonnets in honour of Laura and Aunt Ruth. Of course the little traitors were Little House fans.

After being hugged, kissed and fussed over by the instantly besotted elder O'Neills, something Tessa and Kayla were used to happening to them wherever they went, the girls wanted to know why Uncle Jack was too cheap to buy Aunt Ruth a motorised wheelchair. Properly equipped, she could've given them rides.

Her eyes aglow, Ruth wanted to know too.

Grandpa George, watching these charming familial events unfold with a misty, paternal eye, then charmed the socks off of Kate and Joe by unveiling his Remember-The-Alamo commemorative apron and novelty Texas Longhorn barbecue cap, birthday presents from his darling girls which he'd brought along to the party at their insistence.

It was good to know the man responsible for Earth's first and last line of defence was putty in tiny, wilful hands.

"You can't pull rank on my barbecue!" Jack protested, eyeing the horns with horror.

"Grandpa's a general," Tessa argued, bristling.

"He can do what he wants," Kayla added smugly.

"And he can put you in jail if he feels like it, Uncle Jack."

"Those girls have a keen grasp of the chain of command," Jack bitched, scowling darkly at their doting Grandpa George.

"George! I'm delighted to meet you!" Kate took George's hand in both of hers.

"Likewise, Mrs. O'Neill," George assured her heartily, turning on the down-home Texas charm.

"Kate, please! And this is Joe, Jack's long-suffering father."

The two men weighed one another up, liked what they saw and shook hands firmly, smiling.

"Tell me," Kate urged George, using her melting brown eyes to their full, devastating effect. "What's it really like commanding Jack?"

Jack couldn't help but wonder what he'd get if he looked at George like that. His eyes were just as big and brown as his mom's.

"I was going to ask you the same thing," George joked.

Kate chuckled appreciatively at this proof her notoriety was satisfactorily spreading.

"Colonel O'Neill is..." George took his time in framing his thoughts properly. "Jack is extremely talented at everything he brings to the programme," he said at last, admitting to nothing.

Not fooled for a second by this diplomatic side-step, Kate and Joe beamed with parental gratification. "Who'd a thunk it? Our boy talented at deep space telemetry! We prayed..."

"We had every confidence," Joe amended quickly, "if he hung in there, he'd finally find his niche in the Air Force."

"One that didn't involve crashing fast planes, falling out of the sky or running around with a really big gun, blowing shit up," Kate agreed with heartfelt approval.

"Exactly what extreme talents does our boy bring to a deep space telemetry programme?" Ruth rather un-sportingly wanted specifics.

Jack, spotting a vat of volcanic chilli in the back of Grandpa George's car, malevolently expressed his certainty George would fill them in on his specific contributions – in detail. And they should feel free to ask questions. Lots and lots of probing questions.

Ruth wanted to know how much he got paid.

Tessa and Kayla wanted to know why their Grandpa didn't pay Uncle Jack enough he could afford a pool and a piñata for the party.

Smiling nastily, Jack went inside to check on his significant other and the party supply situation.

Daniel had chosen to torture Jack for the duration of the celebrations by being untouchable in spray-on jeans that made his legs look endless and framed his ass so lovingly the roof of Jack's mouth dried reflexively, teamed with a tight little black T-shirt that clung faithfully to every curve of muscle.

He was busily inserting bottles of beer into a large bowl of ice, which involved lots of bending and swaying. In a better world, Jack wouldn't have to wait until Daniel finally broke him and he kicked everyone out the house to grope and fondle. He said as much.

Daniel shrugged it off. "It's what we signed on for."

"And it's for my sake, not yours." Jack's command. Jack's career. Jack's pension.

Daniel's hand skimmed Jack's belly in a friendly gesture as he went past him, headed for the kitchen. Jack followed, going to unpack some of the savoury snacks to heap on every available flat surface in case Ferretti was too weak from hunger to make it to the party table.

"It bothers you more having people know than I guess it bothers me having people not know we're together," Daniel noted for the record as he poured nuts into several bowls. "I like my privacy and you like your macho image."

"Whoa!" Statements like that tended to have the same galvanic effect as ones like 'red alert' or 'unscheduled off-world activation.'

"I guess you also need your macho image," Daniel generously stretched the point. "The Air Force being the institutionalised boys club that it is. Personally, I fail to see the correlation between homosexuality and the prejudicial assumption of incompetent leadership, predatory sexual favouritism, instantaneous eradication of authority and respect, and plummeting morale, but then I also fail to see the gender correlation as it applies to Sam or Janet. I do see the hypocrisy pretty clearly, but that's my problem."

"Don't you mean that's my problem?" Jack retorted, stung.

With a quick, reproving shake of the head, Daniel smiled at him. "If we both worked for the Oriental Institute, I'd have plenty to say about you not coming out or being unable to admit to us being couple, but as we both work for the Air Force, the situation doesn't arise. It isn't possible, it isn't your fault and it isn't reasonable for me to blame you or to hold you responsible for any of it, so I don't. When I think about the limits imposed on us, the limits we have no choice but to deal with, I do blame the institution and I do blame an unjust, ill-conceived, bigoted law."

"You think I care that much about my 'macho image'?" Jack snapped.

Daniel dissolved into a shrewd, reproachful grin. "Jack!" he chuckled, quite enjoying Jack's show of offended hauteur. "If it'll make you feel better, I can eat my heart out later," he offered generously, sneaking a quick kiss because no one was in the house to see.

"You're avoiding the question." It would only be petty and impolite not to steal a quick kiss back.

"Yes."

With an understanding look, they each peeled resistant hands from various intimate parts of their body.

"Life's a bitch," Jack grumbled, stealing a consolatory pretzel.

"Better is a dinner of herbs where love is than a stalled ox and hatred therewith," Daniel quoted philosophically.

"I'm allowed that macho image," Jack decided, knowing the Bible when he heard it used against him. "In fact, it's healthy for me to have some kind of positive mental image to cling to every time you stalk around the bedroom declaiming and lecturing and quoting at me and I know what you're talking about. I never used to know."

"You never used to be trying to get me into bed." Daniel fed him a cheese twist. "Your periodic displays of erudition and intellect are strictly self-centred and sexually tactical."

Jack perked up at this appealing interpretation. "You're a nice boy!" he enthused with vast satisfaction.

"Just happy with what we've got."

"What we're allowed," Jack corrected him mildly.

"Well, maybe for once, I'm too self-absorbed to worry about the big stuff," Daniel dismissed it lightly as he went to the fridge and started sorting out the chilled bottles of soda. "I've got my hands pretty full with you and all the small stuff about us."

The flyboy and the flake, huh? They both walked into this with their eyes wide open so there really was no point bitching about it now. And yeah, Jack had to admit there was always lots of small stuff for them to deal with. But it was mostly good stuff and they got through it together. Like now.

"We've got snacks."

"Then let's go party."

By the time they'd placed all of the food, scattered iced drinks where grabbable and made it out onto the deck, George and Joe were installed in state at the smoking barbecue and Jack's lovingly prepared dogs, steaks, chicken wings, shrimp and token veggie burgers were being flamed before his appalled eyes.

Kate and Emily Ferretti were buttering buns and chattering a mile a minute while an exasperated Janet Fraiser was physically trying to separate Cassie and Katie, who'd both turned up wearing the same festive top. Given how little the two sweet sixteen's believed they had in common, teen identities were reeling and insults were flying.

That nice Colonel Ferretti, proud father, was dividing his time between filming and egging Katie on. He seemed to be in full Tarantino mode.

Tessa and Kayla had dragged the airbed out of the tent and were bouncing on it, and Louis Jr. was going out for a pass thrown by Cassie's dead-meat boyfriend Dominic while a cheer-leading Ruth shook a metaphorical pompom from the sidelines.

Then Carter and Teal'c came around the corner into the yard. She was in jeans, Doc Martens and something frilly while 'Murray' was decked out like Shaft, right down to a garish vintage seventies pimp-print bandana.

Kate looked up. And up. She dropped her knife. And her jaw.

"Oh, god," Jack groaned. "Mom's in lust again."

"You want to go pick up Ruth and stick her back in her wheelchair?" Daniel nudged him. "Or should we just slather up Murray and toss him to them?"

"Should've made a ring of Jell-O," Jack mourned, watching Kate beat Ruth to Murray by a mile.

"Your mom is slippery enough."

"No flies on Ruth either." With seconds, Kate was fuming her way back over to the barbecue with a bemused Carter in tow while an attentive Murray began to tool Ruth's wheelchair gently about the garden.

"She's too young for him," Daniel grinned.

Snickering in perfect amity, they jumped down off the deck and joined the party.

Daniel was struck in the chest by a football, and then by Louis Jr.

Admitting life was maybe, possibly, probably good, Jack started to laugh.
 

From her perch on the picnic table, Kate looked around her, people-watching with immense satisfaction. Her Jack was the centre of all of this life and energy and spirit, everyone else circling around him, and his centre was Daniel. This was, she felt, exactly how it was supposed to be.

Joe and George were off to one side, a napping little girl in each of their laps, their heads together as they talked through some thorny something or other, quietly setting the world to rights between them. Or maybe it was just fishing talk. Men took the most ridiculous things seriously, it was hard for a sensible woman to tell what would set them off.

Daniel was lounging in the grass, people-watching too, and Jack was lounging right beside him, watching Daniel. Projecting a truly obnoxious glow of Hallmark-happiness, they couldn't keep their eyes, their thoughts or their hands off of each other and would probably be completely crushed if they had an inkling the only way they could be more obvious would be to hire a skywriter. Thankfully, their friends weren't mean enough to dispel the boys' fondly-held illusion of discretion.

Samantha came over to grab a couple of beers and Kate smiled warmly at her. "I don't blame you," she murmured sweetly as Sam stooped close. "She's a fox."

Sam dropped the beer and kind of fell down on the decking steps. "Does it show?" she gasped, her big blue eyes dilating in sheer horror.

"Darling!" Chiding gently, Kate slid smiling down to sit beside Sam, who was having as much trouble keeping her eyes off Janet as Jack did off Daniel. "You could say anything to me," she promised comfortingly, crossing her heart.

"It just happened," Sam blurted out. "One minute we were talking, the same way we’ve talked a thousand times before, a little drunk, a little close, and the next we were..." She waved a limp hand vaguely. "I was..."

"You're a lovely woman." Kate smoothed the soft blonde hair tumbling over Sam's creased brow and took her limp hand into a sustaining clasp. "Daniel thinks the world of you. Janet does too," she added confidently.

"We're friends!"

"Sweetie, I've been with Jack's father close to fifty years now and trust me, that's the best part," Kate advised serenely.

Sam protested feebly.

"A friend knows the best and the worst of you, and they stick with you regardless."

"We can't, I mean, the regulations..."

"You can and you mean you're scared."

"My track record with men is hopeless!"

"Janet," Kate purred, "is not a man."

Sam started to say something, stopped, started again, and then just stared. "I'm beginning to see what the colonel means about you," she muttered eventually, her pretty face a picture.

"You're a good girl," Kate praised her for wisely capitulating, petting her hand gently. "Now, why don't you take the fox home and kiss her again?"

"I can't! What if Janet can't!"

"It's still an answer."

"This was not supposed to happen."

"It has happened and you don't strike me as a woman who runs from the people you love."

"You're a very frightening person," Sam decided.

Kate smiled modestly. "Practice."

Sam looked over at Janet, who was draining a beer and working out how best to kill an innocuous teen named Dominic for the capital crime of watching their daughter Cassie the precise way Janet and Sam had been watching each other since they got here.

"Home?" Sam gulped. "Holy Hannah!"

She took three beers and stumbled away from Kate as fast as her long legs could carry her. She was probably going to need all of them when she heard the sweet, ferociously smart but astonishingly precocious Cassie tell her Two Mommies joke.

That nice Colonel Ferretti had finally eaten himself sick and was in a state of collapse in his loving, teasing wife's lap. Kate liked Lou. She'd like any man who not only coped with a mouthy pop princess and an unusually athletic, somewhat sexually ambivalent Goth, but loved them dearly. He also lived to torture those well able to look after themselves – mostly Jack – and was impertinently talented in this regard.

Jack and Daniel's good friend Murray, worshipping respectfully at Ruth's gloating feet, was a total dreamboat of a hunka, hunka burnin' love and Kate didn't care if Joe knew it. In fact, it seemed only fair to her that if he got cuddles from a very small girl, she should get them from a very large man. She slid down from the deck and strolled over to join in the fun, reflecting on the differences between man and boy. Daniel was utterly adorable, of course, still her main squeeze, but Murray was – was dayum!

"I've decided!" Ruth said brightly.

"Decided what, love?" Kate sank gracefully into the grass and smiled dazzlingly at Murray. Gratified, he bowed his head and smiled back. Such dignity. Such stateliness. Such musculature!

"Screw the Windy City!" Ruth announced vigorously. "I'm moving here."

"A wise decision," Murray stated approvingly, his hot-chocolate eyes mesmerising. "A man is nothing without family."

Even his voice was dreamy, deep and studied and spine-tingling.

"A man should have his family close by him," Kate elaborated agreeably, "Especially a man who's a selfish, neglectful sonovabitch who never comes by to visit if he can avoid it and acts like he's embarrassed by his loved ones when he can't."

"The heat does my old bones good." Ruth stretched out her arms, turning them this way and that to catch the sun.

The heat, thought Kate, would do Joe good too. In fact, it might very well work wonders for the arthritis he wouldn't own up to having.

"The company too." Ruth smiled flirtatiously at Murray.

"It is I who am honoured," he stated with another of those sexily grave bows, "To meet with such wisdom and warrior spirit among the family of my friend O'Neill."

Ruth actually blushed.

Really, Kate thought, letting herself be distracted by the golden kiss on Murray's gleaming skin. What were they in Chicago for?

The family they'd moved back from Minnesota to be close to was mostly gone, the house they lived in was nice and it was home but it wasn't the one Jack had grown up in. It didn't hold those memories for her. Being close to the hospitals was good, but Colorado Springs had the Air Force Academy hospital and brilliant, caring doctors like Janet Fraiser. In Chicago, Ruth got sick every winter and Joe slowed down so much it made Kate's heart quail.

Their friends were their neighbours, people like Doris Obermeyer and the Pendergasts. Kate was closer now to the gang she'd met online through Franklin Mint and The Sentinel fandom, friends who'd be with her wherever she could plug in a modem.

Since the stroke, Joe had gradually eased off on most of the quiet social things he'd done with the guys and was content with his own company, his crosswords and his tool shed. She hadn't seen her lovw talk himself hoarse with anyone but Jack and Daniel on their infrequent visits for so long, it gave her a queer pang to see Joe so animated now. She'd been so glad to have him safe again after the fright he gave her, maybe she'd been too sensitive, too protective, made it too easy for him to give up on the old life and stay home where she could keep an eye on him.

Her boy was here. Her darling boy. He needed her even though he'd go to his grave spitting out a denial. Jack hadn't actively screwed up his relationship with Daniel, this was true, but it could happen! Both her boys only really had each other. Their friends all knew, but just as Jack and Daniel couldn't speak out, the people who cared about them couldn't let on they knew. Daniel felt isolated by it. He'd told her so!

It was different with family. With Kate and Joe, with Ruth, the boys could say anything, show as much as they felt for each other whenever they felt like it. It was good and healthy for them to have a place to come and it would be better and healthier if that place were next door.

What was holding them in Chicago except the mere fact they were there?

"Honey?" Kate called out. Both Joe and Jack looked around, naturally ready to do her bidding. "How do you feel about us moving here?" she called out jauntily.

Joe opened his mouth, then he closed it again. And then he just shrugged, shooting Kate his special, speaking look, the one that would get her laid later, after her love had given her a forceful piece of his mind. She gave him a hopeful little come-hither smile and wave.

As spontaneous cheers and applause broke out from the mellowed party-goers and the teens curled their pierced and painted lips at the sad, sentimental antics of the geezers, Jack bleated piteously.

Yep, Kate decided, they couldn't happen to a more deserving son than Jack.

"Um, Janet?" Daniel's voice rose over the celebratory ruckus. "I think Jack fainted."
 

Jack was stretched out on the furry rug in front of the fireplace, a damp towel over his face, emitting low moans of distress.

"No," Kate insisted magnanimously. "I think if Jack has concerns about us moving here, then the family should put this to a vote. Let's see that traditional O'Neillian democracy in action. Do the thing properly."

"Uh, democracy? I feel honour-bound to point out Jack can't outvote us one-to-four, Kate," Daniel complained, rubbing Jack's quivering stomach lovingly.

"Traitor," the towel snarled after a little mental arithmetic.

"In fact," Daniel realised, "there's no way Jack could ever out-vote you even when it was just one-to-two."

"There was always a slender chance one of us would fold and give him what he wanted," Kate calmly defended her uniquely manipulative spin on healthy family democracy.

"Not a chance I would," Ruth grinned. "What I want is something with a nice sunny yard, all on one level, close by so I can motor over to see my best boy whenever I feel like it."

"Spineless traitor," the towel snarled again in Daniel's direction, detecting the keyword 'motor' in Ruth's wish list.

"Oh, bite me!" Daniel snapped, losing patience. "If Ruth wants a motorised wheelchair, she's having one. It's for her independence, Jack."

"Don't let him pick it," the towel tactlessly impugned Daniel's vehicular competence. "Not unless you want an antique or something so safety conscious its built like a tank. Or a Volvo."

"I want something sporty that'll make the traffic cops blink when I pass and get me speeding tickets," Ruth dreamt happily, drooling. "In a really hot colour."

"Peridot," the towel advised aesthetically.

"Starsky and Hutch tomato red," Ruth argued. "With that really cool white stripe."

"Ah!" Irritably inhaling the towel and then tossing it violently across the room, Jack sat up, growling. "Neither of you," he scowled inclusively at Daniel and Ruth, "knows what you're doing with engines. Just leave it to me, alright?  I'll take care of it."

"You know, darling," Kate wheedled in her most heartlessly ingenuous fifties sit-com mom tone. "If we move here, we can get a puppy."

"You see?" Jack appealed to Daniel as a sniggering Joe high-fived Kate, both of them tickled pink over this peculiarly parental humour. "This is why they're not allowed to come here. This is exactly why!"

"We weren't allowed to come here because you didn't want us to see how nice it is," Kate remonstrated with him. "I think it'll be good for us," she said more seriously. "Your dad and Ruth especially."

"I'm fine," Joe frowned.

"Me too," Ruth snapped, "But I'm moving here anyway." She arched her thin feet, toes curling luxuriously. "It's toasty."

"High desert," Daniel said absently. "People don't realise. They hear Rockies and think..."

"Let's get back to the point." Jack smacked him in the arm, glaring awfully. "Shall we?"

Daniel glared right back. "He wants to know what kind of puppy."

"You could both come over every day," Kate coaxed. "Roll around with the puppies."

"Breed of your choice," Joe hastened to assure them as the stakes went up yet again.

Daniel directed a cool look at them. "I'm more of a cat person."

"Screw the kitties," Ruth grinned as Kate, Joe and Jack all stared at Daniel as if his head had just spun around and spewed pea soup. "You can come over and roll around with me all you like, Gorgeous!" she selflessly offered herself to Daniel.

"You're going to do this?" Jack appealed to his parents.

"Honestly? I don't know why we haven't done it before," Kate said frankly.

"Being settled is no good reason to stay in a place, I guess," Joe agreed mildly. "Not when there are better reasons to be someplace else."

"Health reasons," Daniel pointedly reminded Jack. "I want you guys here," he told their dear ones. "I think it would be great to have you close by and it would stop Jack worrying us both frantic every time one of you catches a cold or misses a phone call."

"Frantic?" Jack objected strongly to this accurate characterisation.

Daniel stabbed an irritated finger in the direction of the phone. "You look who he has on speed dial there. Just go look!"

"He also has eleven bookstores, three coffee shops, two chocolate stores and a museum," Kate retorted dampeningly, firing up in her Jack's defence.

This was always the trouble in these kinds of disagreements. Alliances shifted so rapidly, the O'Neills weren't so much a family as a loose confederation of warring factions and Daniel was almost always on the losing side.

"Do you have Murray's number on there?" Ruth enquired innocently. Kate shot her a hard look she blandly ignored.

"I know you're imagining moving here will mean 24/7 access to kick my sorry ass, but Daniel and I aren't in town all day, every day, you know," Jack cautioned. "In fact, we’re out of town fairly frequently. Sometimes for extended periods of time. Our schedule is..."

"Fluid," Daniel suggested.

"Frankly, it's unpredictable."

"That deep space telemetry keeps you pretty busy, huh, boys?" Joe asked sympathetically.

"Training missions."

"George never could explain satisfactorily why a wunderkind archaeologist and a highly trained, overly-talented, aggravating Special Ops colonel would be working on deep space anything," Kate observed dulcetly.

"He speaks twenty-three languages, which makes him cheaper to employ than twenty-three people who only speak one, and I push George's paper for him," Jack said matter-of-factly.

"You people don't watch enough spy shows," Ruth complained, shaking her head over this omission. "That's one lousy cover story you boys have got there. When it comes to national security, you should put in the effort for those of us who do watch our TVs."

"It's a secret. A huge, honkin' blow-your-socks-off secret." Jack admitted facetiously. "But if you like, I'll take you through the whole thing, so I can enjoy myself killing all of you, after."

"Seriously, darling," Kate cajoled, recognising they were going around in circles and could keep tossing out irresistible tangents tirelessly. "Don't you want us here?"

"No fair, Mom," Jack pouted. "Talk about your leading question."

"It's a tough choice," Daniel said quietly, sneaking a smidge closer to Jack and putting a sympathetic hand on his back. "Do we worry each other up close or worry over each other from a distance?"

"Do we treat each other like adults or go on making decisions for each other instead of with each other?" Kate mused aloud in a staggering reversal of her categorically stated position on the sacred parent-child bond, which was that the child should do what it was told. "You tell us, son?" she invited Jack coolly. "Are you ready to come out to us an Air Force officer?"

"That is!" Jack sputtered helpless outrage as Ruth cackled delightedly. "That's!"

"That's very good," Daniel said admiringly, smiling at Kate as he got on his knees behind Jack and started a reviving neck rub. "I mean, that's exactly what I was thinking, but failing to express so irritatingly."

"She's not suggesting she starts treating me like an adult!" Jack protested vociferously, arching his neck so Daniel could give suitable attention to a knotty spot. "This is strictly one-way."

Daniel was starting to have that suspicion, yes.

"But of course, my son." Kate batted guileless maternal eyes. "The child may become a man but the parent stays the parent."

"Only more suspicious, more experienced and way less merciful," Joe agreed after due consideration of this sentiment.

"Less loving parents might think their son didn't want them nearby," Kate mourned, sniffling and dabbing artistically at patently dry eyes.

"Well, if you must, you must. I guess there's not a damned thing I can do to stop you," Jack caved with an ill-tempered grunt. "I suppose you'll insist on living right here on Cheyenne Mountain," he sniffed. "Right on top of me."

"Someplace handy he can watch you through his telescope," Daniel translated. "Obsess over you all without you knowing he's wimping out on you."

"I'm not whipped, you know," Jack took issue with this inference, craning so Daniel could lick his ear if he felt like it.

"We'd better start checking out realtors," Daniel murmured persuasively but refrained from licking anything.

"We could start right away," Jack suggested with transparent cunning. "Tomorrow, even."

"Forget it, son," Joe advised him kindly. "Ruth is never going to get so carried away you can snake her out of her Little House Pilgrimage."

"Yeah, well." After a moment of unpleasant acceptance, Jack rallied from this unpalatable truth. "I still get to pick out the puppy."

"What puppy?"

"Mom!"
 

"Ah!" Jack put shushing fingers over Daniel's lips. "Not a word."

"I..."

"Just give me sex."

"Only if I get to name the puppy."

"You?"

Daniel sucked Jack's fingers into his mouth and kind of swirled his tongue around them like a popsicle.

"You do."

Daniel pushed and Jack yielded, folding to the floor of the tent like a limp noodle, despite the fact the Tessa-and-Kayla-bounced airbed urgently needed a puncture repair kit. Jack was talented, there was no denying it. Especially when it came to getting jiggy.

"Hello," Daniel said and kissed him very hard on the mouth. "Okay?" He kissed him very hard again.

"Suffering so terribly only one thing could ease my pain."

"It's not your turn."

"Aren't you supposed to be making things up to me?"

"I don't know. Am I?"

Winking, Jack grinned roguishly up at him. "You know how many times I've hinted to Mom that I worry?" he confided affectionately. "That I can't get back there often enough to keep an eye on all of them? All she does is snap me in the ass and pull rank. Mom knows best? Ha! Years, I've been trying, and I couldn't shift 'em out of that house with TNT."

"I see."

"This way, I get them here where I can take care of them and I get a puppy. That's a sweet deal!"

"Is it? I'd love to have them all here with us, I won't deny it, but Jack, what do we tell them when one of us gets hurt? When we go away for a day and it takes us a week to get back home?"

Jack stroked Daniel's hair, smiling tenderly at him. "We tell them what that nice Colonel Ferretti tells Emily and his kids, or what Carter tells her brother Mark, or what Grandpa George tells his daughter and the girls."

"Nothing," Daniel sighed in sorrowful recognition.

"Bottom line, we can't tell them what we do. They can't know," Jack reminded him unnecessarily. "They're already asking questions, Daniel. They don't believe for one second either of us is working in deep space telemetry. I don't think Mom would be talking about me coming out to them as an Air Force officer if she couldn't handle it."

"I guess it comes back to what I was saying earlier, then. Do we trust each other enough to live so close? Do we trust Kate, Joe and Ruth to let us keep our secrets?"

"Mom and Dad are smart, Daniel." Jack gave Daniel a warm, gentle kiss. "They know the difference between a cold-blooded lie meant to hurt them and a truth that isn't ours to tell. I'm not saying Mom won't drive us insane trying to work out what it is we do inside Cheyenne Mountain, but we can trust her not to cross the line. She gets that whole thing about important versus personal, and Dad does too. They'll support us."

Daniel loved hearing Jack's shining confidence in his parents. It warmed him clear through and made him smile. Goofily, it must be admitted. "I hope Kate starts thinking of all the advantages of you simply building an extension for them and a kennel for the dog here," Daniel teased Jack, trying to cover for his rush of feeling. "And if she doesn't, I'll be sure to suggest it."

"Prick," Jack complained without much conviction, deciding they should be kissing now.

Daniel – who was no more whipped in this relationship than Jack was – enthusiastically kissed him back. They discovered almost immediately they were wearing too many clothes to really kiss properly, and helped each other take care of that. Then they helped take care of some other things. Mouths, throats, nipples. Strong thighs and flat bellies, sharp hips and jutting cocks.

It was Daniel's pleasure to make love this way, with Jack laughing up at him, even being a bit of a bastard who wouldn't let them find an easy rhythm. They were all grating hips and clashing mouths tonight, swearing breathlessly as one of them humped up and the other pinned down, rolling and slipping, sweatily scrabbling at ass and thigh for purchase. They wrestled around until thumping cocks were crushed between their bellies and the friction was very good, very good. They quivered then, holding on tight, humping frenziedly.

"Lassie," Daniel moaned gleefully into Jack's mouth. "Lassie, cooome hooome!" They shook with laughter, hips stuttering, semen spurting messily, finally tumbling into a gorgeously tangled, sticky heap. Jack cursed all cute collie dogs and smart-assed archaeologists everywhere, ever.

It was a warm night and they stayed as they were, too much effort to be sensible and straighten out the sleeping bag.

"These family visits are supposed to end in the ritual humiliation at O'Hare, you know," Jack thought aloud. "It's the end of an era."

"No, it's only the start of ritual humiliation over breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks, movies, malls, grocery shopping, gardening, SGC socials and outings to all the touristy places we've successfully avoided all these years."

"SGC socials we've never avoided, ever," Jack said gloomily.

"Your mom interfering energetically in everyone's lives."

"Well, some of 'em need it! Did you see Carter and Fraiser? Keep it in your pants, girls!"

"I saw that too and let me just say the look I'm seeing on your face now had better not be suggesting..."

"I do not find the thought of them together hot," Jack denied coldly.

"I knew it!"

"I'm, y'know, gay. As in, I just had sex with you, a guy. Two girls does nothing for me."

"You sonovabitch!"

"Leave Mom out of it."

"Just remember as Sam's team-leader, you're the one who has to have the talk with her about the need for discretion."

"I'm more interested in the talk about which one of them...OW! What was that for?" Scowling, Jack reproachfully rubbed his severely prodded shoulder.

Daniel took possessive hold of Jack's wayward cock and gave it a disapproving shake.

Jack waggled his brows suggestively, purring. "Every time I tell myself, no, don't do it, don't start, he's too easy, it's not sporting, you know he'll fall for it, have some pride for god's sake." Daniel tightened his fingers ominously. "I remember you get pissed even easier and do fun stuff like this." He rolled his hips lasciviously, his cock stroking Daniel's palm. "Talk about your Pavlovian response."

Daniel maintained his pissy face until Jack kissed him sorry, gave him a penitent cuddle, and throatily wondered what the girls had to get hold of.

"I could ask your Mom and Ruth to fill us in over breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks," Daniel threatened.

"Mom would call Carter and ask her," Jack snorted.

"Janet would call you and tell you, then stick a horse needle up your butt."

"She'd still know I knew."

"You think they know about us?"

"Don't be ridiculous. How could we be any more discreet than we've been?"

"We could've remembered the lube was in our big gay DayGlo tent before Tessa and Kayla drew their smiley face on the airbed for Grandpa George."

Eyes bugging out on cartoon stalks, Jack wheezed as if he was gut-punched.

Daniel smiled evilly. He wasn't the only one who was easy.

Growling, Jack squeezed him 'til his ribs squeaked, then kissed him extremely forcefully. Then he kissed him gently.

"You okay with this?" Jack wanted to know, grazing on Daniel's lips. "With the folks?"

"More than okay. Happy, even."

"That's good. A little of them can go a very long way, I know that. I also know I'm enough to drive you nuts. Distract you," Jack said significantly, his mind still on their talk from earlier. "I worry how you'll cope if they move here and climb right in the closet with us."

"I probably won't," Daniel owned up cheerfully. "But I'll have fun failing."

"Yeah?" Jack grinned hopefully.

"Yeah. I was thinking about what you said earlier, thinking maybe you're right, and it really is as simple as me just finding my place, knowing where I fit in life. Where I belong." He smiled at Jack, touching his face lingeringly. "I don't need all those things that are so much bigger than me, I don't need to be lifted outside of myself, I don't need to be driven the way I was, because I'm pretty okay with what I've got. I need you. I need us. Everything else is..." Daniel searched for the right word. "Fun," he said contentedly.

"Me too." This was all Jack had to offer by way of extravagant romantic sentiment, but he did nibble Daniel's earlobe for emphasis, so that was okay.

"I don't expect a lot." Then Daniel thought how that sounded and pulled a rueful face.

"No, no, it's okay, I know what you mean," Jack said hastily, grinning. "I don't expect a lot either, which means I don't eat my heart out over stuff like having to keep your apartment going and all the other things we do to deflect unwanted attention."

"We're breaking the rules," Daniel tried to explain how he felt about this. "The rules aren't right and we don't agree with them, but we signed on for them and we are breaking them. We've got to pay for being together. Keeping it private, between us, is what it costs."

"Everyone has to compromise," Jack supported him unstintingly. "Everyone has to give way on things that matter to them, accept there are limits, limitations, so they can be together. Sometimes what gets given up becomes worth more than the person you're with. But not for us."

"No," Daniel smiled, feeling a bit better. "We're no different than anyone." There was comfort in that.

"We're better off than most."

"I can live with what we've got." More, much more. Daniel could be happy with it.

"I love it." And Jack was good with their life too. Kate wasn't exactly going to have her hands full, whatever she might be hoping for moving here where she could interfere up close.

"I love being part of a family."

Jack's face melted into a smile. "I guess I knew it from the start, that you'd fit. I wanted to tie you down, keep you by me and I guess I knew taking you to them would do it. The folks might drive us mad, but they're about as easy to say no to as a black hole."

Easier to say no to the folks than to each other, but neither of them would admit to it. In relationship terms, that was lower than sleeping in the wet spot without even squabbling over whose turn it was. They might be in love, but they weren't that whipped.

Daniel and Jack were stubborn. And they were smart.

They had sex again and made another wet spot. Maybe that meant both of them woke up with damp butts, but they got the rare satisfaction of being ahead of life on points.

Mom was there to do laundry.
 

FINIS

If you enjoyed this revised version of A Dinner Of Herbs, please do write and let me know.  It was a nerve-wracking experience to say the least to re-write such a well-known and for some, fondly remembered story.  Even a simple 'thank you' or 'I enjoyed this' is an important message to send.  Thanks so much.  Biblio.