Jack backstroked
lazily up the full length of the pool, gloating over the peace and quiet.
No annoyingly tinny easy listening piped over the PA. No swimmers
cluttering up the place, not this early on a Sunday morning. The
water was perfect; blessedly cool and crystal clear, rippling gently above
the azure and silver tiles, and refracting the sunlight streaming in through
the tall windows.
This was
his ritual; a personal, intensely private time out he took every off-duty,
on-world Sunday; no variation to his routine, no exceptions. A long
satisfying swim, a steam and a steak. And in the afternoon street
hockey, followed by a barbecue and beer at someone's house during the on
season, or a solo movie and beer in the off.
This had
worked perfectly while Jack was alone. He needed the solitude.
Or so he'd told himself. Yep, he'd always done fine on
his own, so why mess with success? Why? Try having something
better to do. Or someone. The 'why' was sidling up to the steps
at the deep end, smiling nervously at him. Jack waved cheerily back
at his lover of one whole week, who wasn't exactly thrilled so much of
himself was on public display.
Jack swam
back towards Daniel as he tentatively dipped one slender foot into the
water.
"What
are you DOING?" Jack called. "Get in here!" Daniel was exciting
when slippery and wet, something Daniel was getting to grips with - along
with Jack - every time he got in the shower. Jack wanted him slippery
and wet now. He tried not to gloat too obviously when Daniel scowled
at him and dove smoothly from the steps, emerging from his shallow dive
more or less in Jack's face.
"No,"
Daniel said crisply as he hastily backed off to a respectable distance,
eyeing Jack suspiciously. "I don't care HOW hot you insist these
trunks are."
"It's
YOUR fault," Jack riposted. "You could have lazed in bed and met
me in town for brunch at Poor Richard's but noooo, you just HAD to go and…"
"Stupidly
mention I find swimming an uplifting experience?" Daniel asked politely
as he leaned back and relaxed, allowed himself to float and drift.
"Which led your libido right to what I WORE while swimming."
"You should
not have modelled those trunks, Jackson," Jack informed him, admiring the
view as Daniel sprawled in the water, the sun kissing his skin and lighting
his hair to gold. The trunks were fabulous; navy blue, skin tight
and distressingly - for Daniel - abbreviated. They were in a class
of their own for practically naked sex appeal, but Jack was solidly behind
Daniel's newly revealed tendency to wander vaguely around at night barefoot
and deliciously distracted in an array of staggeringly sexy flannel jammies
and slinky T-shirts, usually clutching a book or peer-reviewed journal.
Daniel
wasn't aware his jammies were baggy and had a tendency to settle low on
his hips, and Jack utterly failed to bring to his attention the slinkiness
of his tees. He restricted himself to encouraging Daniel to snuggle,
which Daniel did with as much élan as he'd just displayed sidling
apologetically into the pool. Dr Daniel Jackson was slowly realising
he was a total babe and was not at all happy about it. He was deeply
suspicious of the snuggling and the quote 'bizarre and perverted interest'
Jack took in his wardrobe. "You only have yourself to blame," Jack
laid blame squarely on Daniel's shoulders.
"I'm to
blame for you being a lecherous sonovabitch?" Daniel queried, backstroking
lazily away.
Jack paced
Daniel, admiring the play of sleek muscles as Daniel pulled cleanly through
the water. "Yep," he agreed equably. His Sunday would fit around
Daniel from now on, with a shared swim for him, book browsing and brunch
at Poor Richard's for Daniel, no movie, no beer, and given the choice between
a long, lazy afternoon making love lingeringly with Daniel or playing hockey…no
brainer. Hockey schmockey.
Jack felt
a pang of desire spike through him every time he thought about what Daniel
wanted this afternoon. This was the first time since their return
from the Dwelling Place Daniel felt ready for intercourse again.
Jack was pretty much letting Daniel dictate the pace of their deepening
intimacy. Daniel had had the famine so long he was nervous about
the feast, was desperately shy about letting Jack so completely into his
personal space, and was still adjusting to the fact Jack just wanted to
be with him only all the time. Regardless of whether they wound up
at the house or the loft, they were to all intents and purposes living
together, at Jack's insistence. "Are you okay?" Jack asked
quietly as they reached the side of the pool. Daniel glanced at him
and let his feet touch the bottom, close enough Jack felt the heat of his
body in the cool water.
"Sure,"
Daniel said easily, smiling a little.
"With
us?" Jack persisted. "I didn't exactly let you work up to this stuff.
One day you were living alone, the next I had half your closet space."
"And you
don't feel guilty about that all," Daniel observed mildly.
Jack shrugged.
Having Daniel with him was non-negotiable. Maybe he was moving fast,
but Daniel was about as fragile as tensile steel. Jack reluctantly
admitted to himself it was a hell of a jump from doing Daniel against his
front door to effectively moving in with him, but there was nothing casual
about what they had. They were in love and he wasn't wasting a minute
of their precious free time when they could be together.
Besides,
they'd lived together while they were in the Dwelling Place. He saw
no reason to alter their understanding now they were back on this side
of the gate.
Hammond,
Teal'c and Janet were ecstatic over getting them back, and Carter was backing
them to the hilt. The debriefing had been a cake walk and after…well,
Jack had done everything but march Daniel up the aisle. Admitting
he wanted Daniel to move out of the loft and into his house after a week
together - and only a few days actually on-world - was likely to be the
proverbial straw. Daniel liked the house just fine, but he loved
his quirky loft, his things. Jack was tolerating the time they
spent there for Daniel's sake and just had to accept if Daniel had work
to do, they were going to wind up in town. He was deliberately acclimating
himself because now Daniel was getting used to the idea he got to have
Jack anywhere, he was so happy to have him there.
Jack was
frankly glad he and Daniel had both been trained to manage logistics, because
the secrecy thing was a kicker. They were going to have to maintain
two of everything from cars to closets and carry every damn thing they
needed with them. There was no choice here. Neither he
nor Daniel would give up the SGC and they couldn't give up each other,
so they'd have to plan and manage their personal lives. The alternative
was to be apart and there was no goddamn way Jack would let that happen.
"I've
never lived with anyone," Daniel admitted. "It was different with
Sha'uri. I had to deal with the language, the culture, the sheer
difficulty of surviving in the desert, and the fact I couldn't get home.
It was a long time before I realised the place was home."
"You didn't
live with Sarah Gardner?" Jack asked, surprised.
Daniel
shuddered. "Living with Sarah would have driven me nuts. We
might have shared the same profession, but I like a home that's lived in,
you know?" he asked innocently.
"I know,"
Jack agreed sympathetically, straight faced.
"I'm in
love with you, Jack," Daniel said quietly, eyes intent on Jack's.
"Never doubt that."
Jack caught
his hand for a moment. "I know," he said simply. "Me too."
He grinned when Daniel's face lit up and turned to push off again before
he embarrassed himself and got even more sappy than being within ten feet
of Daniel had him to start with.
He was
a strong swimmer, far faster than Daniel. It evened out. Daniel
ran rings round him on dry land. He didn't slow his pace, just gave
Daniel room and ploughed up and down for his usual two hundred laps, non-stop.
When Jack took his breather, he idled at the side, watching his lover.
Daniel wasn't going to break any speed records but he had a beautiful stroke,
elegant and poised in the water, drawing admiring glances as the pool slowly
filled with the usual early Sunday crowd.
The third
time Jack had to stop and tread water to let someone slower pass he called
quits and Daniel swam back over to his side. "Sauna?" he asked hopefully,
shaking his head wryly at Daniel's sceptical look. "I am NOT going
to seduce you in the sauna!" he hissed.
"Right,"
Daniel drawled as they climbed out of the pool and headed into the showers
to freshen up. "Steamy slippery sex never even crossed your mind."
"It's
good for your sinuses," Jack insisted, gently steering Daniel through the
locker room and around to the sauna suite. "I wish you hadn't said
that," he complained, loosening his towel a tad. "It's crossing more
than my mind now."
"Are you
objectifying me again?" Daniel scowled, blushing. "Bastard."
"That's
not what you said last night," Jack said smugly. "O'Neill.
Sauna for two." The attendant made the booking at his console and
waved them through, calling out the number of their sauna as they strolled
past. There was a lot to be said for expensive exclusivity, including
the opportunity to have steamy, slippery sex with Daniel in public privacy.
"I don't know what you want me to say, Daniel," Jack said casually as he
pulled open the door to the sauna cubicle and the heat enveloped them.
"You're VERY attractive. I'm VERY attracted to you. You
want to have sex with me but don't want me to see you as sexy? That
doesn't make any sense to me."
"That's
simplistic," Daniel protested as Jack hauled him over to the low, pale
pine bench and shoved him down.
"No, it's
not. It's simple," Jack disagreed while he carefully poured a little
water on the coals. Jack liked the heat pounding, but he knew Daniel
got breathless. He dropped onto the bench and leaned back, his thigh
resting against Daniel's. "Sex is just one intimacy among many.
You love the sex, but it throws you when I want to be close while we're
watching TV or listening to music or whatever." Which took care of
both of their evenings together as S.O.'s.
"Close?"
Daniel asked incredulously. "You like having me sit on your knee,
Jack. I'm thirty-six years old, I have two PhDs and according to
you, an array of annoying accomplishments, and suddenly you've decided
I'm a…a 'babe'…" he stammered awkwardly.
"I can
HEAR the parentheses."
"You were
supposed to," Daniel snapped. "I was quoting you, not agreeing with
your position, and don't tell me that's not what I said last night," he
added rapidly. "I know perfectly well what I said last night."
"And this
morning," Jack supplied helpfully.
"And this…shut
up!" Daniel glared at him.
"Although
it wasn't so much said as whimpered," Jack pointed out in the interests
of accuracy.
Daniel
ignored his interjection. "So out of the blue I'm a 'BABE' and it's
okay for you to haul me down onto your lap and maul me?" Daniel complained.
Jack let
the mauling diss go. That was in fact a fairly accurate description.
"And you
make comments," Daniel accused.
"Comments?"
Jack asked blankly. "Such as?"
"You know,"
Daniel said darkly.
"Sorry,"
Jack apologised effusively. "I don't get it. Would you care
to elaborate?"
"No."
"I can't
accept the legitimacy of your complaint without supplementary evidence,"
Jack said pleasantly as he poured a little more water over the coals.
"Stuff,"
Daniel muttered cryptically.
"Quote
'babe' stuff?" Jack asked sweetly, managing to take up as much bench as
two men so he could crowd Daniel into sharing some skin. He knew
exactly what stuff Daniel was referring to, none of it…
"Hyperbole,"
Daniel scowled at him, eyes wide and bright with temper.
None of
it hyperbole.
"I think
I'll paint the bedroom," Jack decided. "Blue."
Daniel
shot him a suspicious sidelong glance. "Why?" he asked slowly.
For the
obvious reason.
"What
shade of blue?" Daniel demanded, stiffening a little.
Jack figured
he'd just get the sales guy at the Paint Spot to take a good look at Daniel's
eyes and match the colour. "Any suggestions?"
"Turquoise,"
Daniel said promptly.
"Turquoise?"
Jack stared at him. "This from the guy who painted everything white?"
"Your
whole house is vanilla!" Daniel accused him, slightly indignant.
"Daniel,
apart from saving the world, our whole lives are vanilla," Jack felt honour
bound to point out. "We're about as straight as de facto gay gets."
"Are you
saying we're boring?"
"We are.
You haven't noticed because you're…"
"Boring."
Daniel looked as if he wanted to protest against the judgement but settled
for a mutinous pout.
"We've
been together a week, and we were still way more excited about that 'Bear
Necessities' thing on National Geographic than we were about, for example,
your first attempt at fellatio."
"Don't
say it!" Daniel warned him menacingly.
"You sucked,"
Jack said gleefully.
"Smug
bastard." Daniel eyed him bitterly. "I'm getting better."
"You suck
even more," Jack agreed supportively. He slipped his arm round Daniel's
waist and squeezed.
"I hate
you, and no, you DON'T hate me more." Daniel chose to palliate his
comprehensive condemnation by returning the embrace, fingers spread possessively
over Jack's side.
"You have
it within you to hate me even more," Jack suggested, hunching his shoulder.
He sighed and stretched out blissfully as Daniel shook his head a little
and settled it on Jack's shoulder, sighing heavily.
"If people
only knew," Daniel grumbled half-heartedly, making himself more comfortable.
They sat
quietly, close, letting the steam bathe their skin; warm and slowly relaxing,
letting the tension seep away. Jack waited patiently for Daniel to
achieve his now familiar boneless sprawl, his slim, supple body slumping
gratefully into Jack's. Jack hadn't realised how habitually uptight
Daniel was until he'd held a soft, satisfied and newly pliant Daniel close
in a post-coital embrace. A Daniel wanting to be that close, blithe,
basking in his affection, literally contented, satiated putty in his hands.
Like now.
Daniel opened drowsy eyes and smiled blindingly up at Jack, reaching up
to cup his face, mouthing the words.
"I love
you too," Jack murmured.
"Let's
go home," Daniel suggested, skimming his hand slowly over Jack's shoulder
and down his arm to take his hand. "And just spend the day like this."
"Naked
and sweaty?"
Daniel
chuckled. "I meant being close."
"You can't
get much closer than naked and sweaty," Jack coaxed. He caught his
breath at the light in Daniel's eyes.
"Later,"
Daniel promised, blushing a little. "You've been whining about wanting
visitation rights to my psyche as well as my closet so let's just laze
around all day. We can go to the deli, pick up a little salad and
coleslaw, some chicken, maybe a cheesecake. I'll fry the chicken
and we can eat ourselves stupid out in the garden. How does that
sound?" he asked gently. He looked down for a moment. "And
later, we can…"
"Make
love. Oh, yeah," Jack said dreamily. Daniel's fingers tightened
around his. He'd been waiting for this, not patiently, since their
first time. Daniel thought he was patient, but he was in fact disciplined.
Discipline earned him a Daniel who trusted him more with every day that
passed. "Then we toss on the single most comfortable thing each of
us owns, no matter how stupid it looks, and cuddle up on the couch," he
ordered.
Daniel
elbowed him in the ribs. "I'm not sitting on your lap," he warned
sternly. "So don't even try it. We can watch a movie.
That'll take your mind off it."
"No, it
won't."
"It will,"
Daniel insisted.
"If it's
your psyche, it has to be a movie you like, not one I've dragged you to
or one you've taken Teal'c to," Jack decided. "Even foreign language
arty crap, if that's what you want." He could take the edge off by…
"I am
NOT sitting on your knee!" Daniel snarled. "I won't fit. You
only THINK you want me to do it. Try calling in sick a couple of
times because your knees gave out while my ass was on your lap and Janet
will have YOUR ass in a sling."
"I'm GOOD
at logistics," Jack insisted.
"Not good
enough to shrink me by a foot."
"There
has to be a way. I want to snuggle. I LIKE to snuggle," Jack
said plaintively.
"No.
N-O!" Daniel scowled.
"A week
ago you said you wouldn’t sleep on the right side of the bed," Jack informed
him smugly.
"I'm trying
to deal with a Pavlovian response," Daniel argued indignantly. "Every
time I try to sleep on the left, you arbitrarily decide it means I'm in
dire need of hot sex."
"You are."
"That's
not the point!" Daniel tried for and completely failed to achieve dignified
rebuke, stalling somewhere around mischievous.
Jesus.
Jack wished there was an easy way to tell the stubborn little shit he happened
to be in love with he had beautiful eyes without coming off as a complete
SAP. "Blue," Jack decided. "We're definitely painting my -
OUR bedroom blue."
"Do you
have to wear so many clothes?" Jack complained as they headed out to the
exit. "Give." He held out his hand for the mineral water.
"I'm not
running around with my ass on display for the edification of the libidinous,
particularly you," Daniel said firmly. He glanced down at himself.
"You don't like…I mean, it's not plaid. I've grasped you’re anti-plaid."
He looked down again. Maybe his ensemble was a tad more formal than
Jack's jeans and leather jacket, and maybe grey wasn't the liveliest colour
on the planet, but the pants were comfortable despite the pleat fronts
only guys who were really built - or in his case, skinny - could get away
with. The knit shirt might be long sleeved, and just another paler
shade of grey, but it was silk, and Jack had been fairly enthusiastic and
distinctly tactile about helping him into it.
"You don't
think this is overkill?" Jack demanded, flipping Daniel's wine coloured
silk jacket impatiently. He had to stop and retrieve his ID card
to swipe through the spa's exit gate. "Sheesh. 'The Springs'
has tighter security than the mountain," he grumbled. "I don't know
why you fight it so damn much. You have a GREAT ass, I can testify
to that. Can't you just quit with this denial thing and flaunt it?"
Daniel
followed him out to the parking lot and over to the truck, which Jack had
insisted on bringing, citing the large sport bags. Yeah. "You
want me to flaunt my allegedly great ass at the population of Colorado
Springs?" he asked musingly, watching with great interest as Jack gave
this some thought.
"No,"
Jack decided at last. "You still have that old duffle coat?" he asked
casually.
"You have
no shame," Daniel sighed.
"None
whatsodamnever," Jack agreed happily, beaming at him as he unlocked the
truck.
"Can I
drive?"
"No,"
Jack refused with unflattering promptness, hopping into the truck.
Daniel
clambered in his side, deciding it was petty to slam the door.
"You want
to get out and KICK the damn door, too?" Jack asked sarcastically.
He had to grab Daniel as he reached for the door handle. "You are
THE single most annoying man on the face of the Earth."
"That's
why you love me," Daniel smirked.
"You drive
me nuts!" Jack accused as they pulled away.
"I keep
you busy," Daniel said sweetly. "Head over to 'Not Carol's Beans
& Things' in Academy Place, okay? We're almost out of coffee.
Both of us," he added wryly. "She does great salads and Pike's Perk
is right next to it for the cheesecake. Do you want something disgustingly
calorific and sticky?"
"You can
say yes to that with the fullest confidence," Jack grinned. "In fact,
yes to eating ourselves stupid but why cook? Juniper Valley is only
a little out of the way and God knows they do great chicken. Biscuits
and apple butter," he tempted. "We can have lunch there and laze
around in the great outdoors."
"If that's
what you want," Daniel agreed at once. He was slightly disappointed.
He couldn't exactly say the thrill was gone, not the way he and Jack were
all over each other, but that vanilla crack stung. Daniel was beginning
to feel like he should…well, loosen his tie. Undo the top button.
Untuck his shirt. Let it hang out - a bit. He had been hoping
'laze around' would translate into fooling around with Jack's enthusiastic
co-operation. Without guaranteed privacy, Daniel doubted Jack would
be comfortable making out and even if he was, Daniel wasn't. Oh,
well. He'd already muscled in on Jack's sacrosanct Sunday ritual
so all he could do was give way now with a good grace.
"We can
pick up the salad stuff and the cheesecake and pig out at dinner too,"
Jack suggested. "I've got the cooler box back there, nothing will
spoil. I'll cook us a couple of sirloins," he offered.
"Okay,"
Daniel returned Jack's smile. "I love Sunday," he confided.
"It's weird how there's always so much time on a Sunday. I always
feel as if it's the one day of the week where your life is truly your own,
no pressure, no distractions, just…time. It doesn't feel the same
if you're off on, say, a Wednesday."
"My favourite
day of the week too," Jack agreed.
The sun
was getting brighter every minute, so Daniel handed him his sunglasses
as they pulled up to the next stop sign. Even downtown Colorado Springs
was pleasant on Sunday morning. There were still plenty of people
around, but the pace of life was slower. "I read an anthropologist
a few years back who posited that the reason we find modern life so stressful
is that human beings evolved as gregarious, social animals genetically
designed to live and hunt in a pack or tribe. Our essential nature
hasn't changed even though communication, agricultural settlement and technology
have transformed our environment. We're designed to be happy in a
tightly knit social grouping of maybe a hundred individuals, inclusive
of extended families. Instead we had a population explosion and new
industries to service after the Industrial Revolution, and this necessitated
urbanisation. Today we have the nuclear family, and the elderly are
cast adrift as their nurturing role is assumed by the formalised education
system. The needs of the tribe and the individual are subordinate
to the needs of the systems which process them. Instead of a small,
cohesive social unit striving towards a common goal, we have to compete
with a vast throng of rivals for limited resources. People just weren't
designed to live like this," Daniel gestured at the townscape rolling smoothly
by them. "We strive to find that sense of community urbanisation
has deprived us of, and interests become parochial." He caught the
sly look Jack shot him as they turned left off East Platte and headed up
to towards Constitution Avenue.
"A hundred
people?" Jack asked sceptically.
"Seriously,
Jack. How many people do you actually know? This guy did research
and in the majority of his sample, a hundred was in the upper percentile,
and many didn't even come close to that."
"You know
some bizarre shit, Jackson," Jack shook his head, laughing a little.
"It's Sunday. No in-depth socio-cultural analysis on Sunday."
Daniel
didn't miss the paternal indulgence in Jack's manner. He decided
there and then to loosen with a vengeance and seduce Jack in the great
outdoors. If he wanted naked and sweaty, Daniel would GIVE him naked
and sweaty. "It's still early," he suggested as Jack pulled in.
"Let's drop this stuff off at the house and I'll change so we can take
a walk. You want to call the Juniper Valley and make reservations
while I pick up the stuff?"
"Sure,"
Jack reached for his cell phone.
Daniel
marched briskly into the homey gingham trimmed environs of 'Not Carol's',
sniffing appreciatively at the dark, rich scent of coffee. He bought
a couple of pounds of premium organic Colombian roast and some of the chocolate
shavings Jack liked, plus two large sweet 'n' crunchy salads, then headed
out and up the street to Pike's Perk. The mouth watering display
of pastries, desserts and baked goods always blew him away. He loved
to sit here on one of the overstuffed blue couches, coffee and desert within
reach on one of the neat little beech and chrome tables, dipping into the
articles in the journal of something or other and basically people watching.
In a small way, it helped connect him with the people the SGC were fighting
for. Daniel felt more of a stranger in the Springs than he did at
the mountain. It bothered him the only people he really knew were
his teammates, Janet and the general, and Cassie. Hanging out in
places like 'Pikes Perk', 'The Chinook' and 'Poor Richard's' helped.
Daniel's 'tribe' barely made it into double figures.
The sales
assistant - who was a Carol - looked up brightly, gauged his indecision
over the cheesecake and suggested a selection of slices. Daniel thought
about Jack for a moment, and asked for a slice of everything. That
gave him vanilla fudge, coffee walnut, triple chocolate, caramel pecan
and citrus burst. "It might not be enough," Daniel said gloomily
as Carol carefully boxed each slice. Pike's Perk had its own take
out packaging. You got slim slices of a cheesecake that walked tall.
"It really might not be enough."
Jack was
waiting impatiently when Daniel got back to the truck. Big shock
there. His eyes went straight to the parcels.
"What
are you having?"
While
Jack was putting away the food they'd brought in, retrieving the sirloins
from the freezer, and packing up water, thermal blankets, the medical kit,
and probably his gun, Daniel managed to smuggle a blanket and a few essential
supplies, including lubricant, into his own backpack. He highly doubted
he was going to be comfortable enough to want intercourse on a little blanket
in the big woods, but he and Jack had a lot of quiet - um, noisy fun when
they let their fingers do the talking.
Unfortunately,
this meant he was still dressed when Jack loped into the bedroom to find
out what he was up to. Jack brightened visibly. He thoroughly
enjoyed 'assisting' Daniel to undress and was extremely persuasive and
creative when it came to ways to keep him from changing into anything else.
Daniel gave up after the third time Jack batted his fingers out of the
way and let him pull the shirt off. The silk did cling, which might
explain why Jack's hands spent more time on his skin than on the fabric,
but eventually - and somewhat reluctantly - Jack extracted him from it.
Jack tossed the top and reached for Daniel's belt buckle.
"This
could take some time," he warned solemnly. "Please tell me you're
wearing those 501s," he pleaded. "I LIKE buttons."
"I've
noticed you like buttons." Daniel liked having Jack's hands on him.
In fact…he leaned into Jack's stroking fingers; pleasantly hard and interested,
reaching up to pull Jack into a kiss. "Hi."
Jack smiled
at him and kissed him back, a gentle promise of their plans for later.
Daniel
laid his head on Jack's shoulder, idly smoothing his palms over the soft
cream jersey clinging to Jack's broad back. As always, Daniel found
his freedom to touch led his errant fingers up into Jack's hair.
It wasn't that he didn't appreciate what half a lifetime in Special Ops
or the morning ritual of three hundred sit-ups had done for Jack, the man
was rock solid, but he loved the softness of Jack's eyes; the way
Jack's head moved against his hand, returning the caress, even though Jack
was totally focused on easing down his zipper a tooth at a time; the way
Jack's lips moved against his in a kiss.
He was
so grateful he had Jack at last, and so scared he would lose him.
It wasn't just the dramas and crises at the SGC, but the daily grind of
being two men who were lovers and having to hide it from everyone.
No one could know they were together because it wasn't fair to make them
lie about it, any more than it was fair for Jack to have to deliberately
and systematically breach Air Force policy on same sex relationships.
All Jack would say was that they knew, and that was enough for him.
"Jack,"
Daniel hinted, rocking his hips into Jack's tormenting hand, more than
pleasantly hard, try NEEDING, as in right now.
"The reservations
are for fourteen hundred. Late cancellation," Jack warned.
"Ethel won't hold the table."
"It's
just after ten," Daniel murmured, rubbing his cheek against Jack's throat
as he fumbled in turn at Jack's zipper, gloating over the eager erection
throbbing against his hand as he roughly pushed the jeans down.
"Bed,"
Jack hissed, his breath hitching as Daniel stroked him knowingly.
"Here,"
Daniel demanded, reaching up for a kiss. Jack shoved him against
the bedroom wall, Daniel laughing softly at the glittering hunger in his
eyes. He swung his weight up as Jack lifted him, wrapping his legs
tight around Jack's back. The sheer strength of his lover turned
him on so fast he couldn’t see straight, literally couldn’t get enough
of him. Jack comfortably held all of Daniel's weight, straining up
to let Daniel plunge deep into his mouth as he thrust powerfully, driving
Daniel's butt hard against the wall, lifting them both.
"Oh, God,
that feels good," Daniel groaned, pulling Jack into another deep, desperate
kiss. None of Daniel's fantasies had come close to the reality of
being with Jack. He'd never imagined Jack just doing him, hard and
fast against the wall, his arms braced beneath Daniel's butt. He'd
never imagined the softness of fabric chafing his nipples to aching hardness,
Jack's muscles flexing against his own, pinning him to the wall, both of
them sweat slick as Daniel yanked up the T-shirt to feel Jack's skin slip
over his. Jack was the gentle lover Daniel had dreamed of, absolutely,
all that and so much more, but when they needed it like this…
The pleasure
was boiling up, making his heart pound sickeningly as Jack slammed into
him, grinding his hips urgently into Daniel's.
"Love
you…love…" Jack grated through clenched teeth, leaning in to bite at Daniel's
lips.
Daniel
opened to the raging kiss, Jack's probing tongue so aggressive, so forceful
he banged Daniel's head off the wall. Daniel surrendered, his arms
wrapped tight around Jack's neck, cupping Jack's head as he sucked at his
tongue. Jack was quivering now, straining against Daniel's weight,
thrusting deep into Daniel's mouth as his back arched and he came, a shock
of slick heat splashing over Daniel's groin, tumbling him over the edge
into orgasm.
"O'Neill,"
Daniel sighed. Love you too.
His knees
buckled when Jack let him down, only the weight of Jack's body leaning
into his enough to keep him upright as they wrapped around one another,
still shaking. Daniel kissed Jack's brow and hugged him close as
they fought for breath and balance.
"Wh-what?"
Daniel wheezed, perplexed by the odd grimace twisting Jack's face.
He smoothed the sweat from Jack's brow. "What is it?"
"I love
to see you smile," Jack whispered.
Daniel
understood. It was incredibly awkward being in love with another
man, wanting to be affectionate and not knowing what to say. He bit
back half the things he was thinking and feeling when they were alone.
Jack was right in a way. Daniel loved being with him, loved the way
they were gradually learning to know one another's bodies and needs, but
he wanted to curl up and die when Jack got that glazed look which told
him clearer than any words Jack found him not just desirable but…but beautiful.
Jack seemed to find him a whole host of other things too, including adorable,
sweet and engagingly naïve, to quote but a few of a wide selection
of damning endearments. Even something as simple as letting Jack
lead him by the hand into the bathroom so they could clean up was fraught
with difficulty. Daniel didn't mind being naked, he barely even registered
Jack's jeans were giving up the struggle against gravity and his T-shirt
was…um…saturated. He was more aware of his own attraction to Jack,
who was mussed and sweaty, sleek with satisfaction and tenderness, definitively
male.
Daniel
turned on the shower and jumped in as Jack shucked his clothes, rinsed
himself thoroughly and promptly got out of Jack's way, otherwise the quickie
against the bedroom wall would segue into the shower.
"Wuss,"
Jack sneered as Daniel neatly sidestepped him, snatched up a towel and
bolted.
Daniel
still had plans to seduce Jack while they were out this afternoon so he
dispensed with underwear, settling for the 501s Jack liked him in so much,
or rather was now admitting he liked him in, maybe because he'd had them
since he returned to Earth and what was once a tad on the baggy side wasn't
now. It was lucky they'd been laundered to softness, because they
looked like they'd been sprayed on. Daniel usually tossed on a sweater
that at least covered his ass but it was getting hotter by the minute so
he settled for a T-shirt, a pale green that reminded him of frosted grass
every time he wore it. The tee was on the tight side too. It
was difficult to hold onto his somewhat deprecating self-image when he
was busting out of most of his casual clothes and Janet was adamant his
BMI was perfect. He couldn’t convince even himself he was getting
fat.
He had
to root around in the bottom of the closet, which presented a target of
opportunity for the colonel, who was a sneaky, silent sonovabitch.
"Get off me!"
"Gettin'
off on you," Jack corrected, utterly failing to remove his hands as instructed.
"This…" Jack patted Daniel's derriere fondly…"is one of my reasons for
living."
"It's
rapidly becoming one of my reasons for killing you, so back off," Daniel
warned, finally getting his hands on his boots. Jack backed up with
him, and when he turned, he was in Jack's arms. Daniel took in the
slightly hopeful, 'soo not going to embarrass myself and ASK' look on Jack's
face and rushed to reassure him. "Only your ass is enough to save
you," he admitted self-consciously. See? Awkward.
"You are
such a pushover, Jackson," Jack said complacently.
"Jackson?"
Daniel queried. "Didn't we agree the pillow talk only occurred when
we were adjacent to the pillows?"
"They're
right there," Jack jerked his thumb at the bed.
"I'm not
comfortable with you using an endearment in every day conversation you
usually howl when you're coming," Daniel said firmly. "Unless your
tongue is down my throat."
"Or your
dick is in mine," Jack said equably, pulling on his jeans. He rolled
his eyes at Daniel, sighing theatrically. "Fine. I won’t use
the orgasm pet name at the briefing table. Okay?"
"It's
private," Daniel insisted gently, reaching into the closet for the faded
chambray shirt that went with the jeans.
"No."
Jack wrestled the shirt from him. "You do not need it. It's
hotter than Abydos out there, and don't pout, it makes me want to kiss
you."
Daniel
ignored Jack's scowl and tried to work out how just standing here gave
him a pout. This wasn't the first time Jack had mentioned pouting.
Back at the Dwelling Place…wasn't there some nonsense about a sexy pout?
Daniel wasn't pouting. He didn't pout.
"I said
DON'T pout! What part of 'don't pout' didn't you get?"
"The kissing
part," Daniel complained, trailing his fingertips maddeningly over Jack's
navel. "What part of 'I've got the hots for you' didn't YOU get?"
"The part
I'm getting this afternoon." Jack lifted Daniel's hand and lingeringly
kissed the veins at his wrist. He snorted as colour flooded Daniel's
face again. "I can't tell you how cute that is," he told Daniel softly,
stroking over the flushed skin of his cheek.
"Wear
the grey one," Daniel ordered, blatantly ignoring yet another deposit in
the 'cute' bank.
"This
one?" Jack held up a T-shirt.
"The other
one." The one Daniel had accidentally laundered on the hot cycle.
The one that fit like a second skin.
Jack pulled
the T-shirt over his head and was disconcerted to find there wasn't a great
deal of it to tuck in.
Daniel
cleared his throat and wandered over to sit on the bed while Jack stalked
back over to throw open the closet door and check himself out.
"Am I
putting on weight?" Jack asked incredulously, turning circles trying to
look at his ass.
"Oh, no,
no," Daniel hastened to assure him. "Well…" he murmured doubtfully.
Jack froze and glared at him. "No."
"Honestly,
does my butt look big in these?" Jack asked anxiously, turning to present
his rear for inspection.
Daniel
duly inspected. "Um…"
"Well?"
Jack wriggled.
Daniel's
throat dried. "Um…"
"Well?
Is it?"
"Um…"
"Why am
I even asking you? You're like a Rottweiler."
Daniel
dragged his eyes from Jack's rear, straightened up and matched him glare
for glare. "I only bit you that ONE time," he retorted.
"You do
pout," Jack said judiciously as he spotted the sign for the exit to Fountain
just ahead of him. "You're pouting right now, and let me tell you,
sullen is seriously sexy."
"I'm not
doing anything!" Daniel denied adamantly. "I'm just sitting here."
"You're
just sitting here pouting," Jack corrected him meanly.
"You can't
tell a grown man he has a sexy pout," Daniel complained to the universe
at large.
"You can't
tell a colonel he's cute when he lisps," Jack observed mildly.
"That's
'my dog is a cat' logic!"
Jack wanted
to get mad, he really did. Daniel was patently horny as hell, spoiling
for a fight and some hot alfresco make up sex on the vile plaid blanket
he didn't know Jack knew he'd brought, but Daniel wasn't just pouting.
The soaring temperatures had resulted in a stern lecture about the perils
of heatstroke from Dr Jackson, which in turn resulted in TMI about both
of them having a hat fetish. Jack had no idea the mere sight of him
in a boonie made Daniel weak at the knees, which was pretty cool, because
he hardly ever wore his boonie at work, and he did have his fishing hat
at home. Daniel equally hadn’t realised how hot Jack found him in
both a boonie and a bandana, which was a big problem, because Daniel frequently
wore both. He was wearing a bandana right now. Jack couldn’t
keep his eyes off it. It was blue, several shades lighter than Daniel's
eyes, close to the colour of his jeans. Every self-respecting hormone
in Jack's body was woofing and slobbering right now. "I've got a
surprise for you," he said, grinning as Daniel perked up.
Oh, BAD
image. Perky and pouting in a bandana? They had hours before
they got to have make-up sex, which at this point in the day, Jack was
certain would be making up for not getting to have sex sooner.
"Surprise?"
Daniel's face fell. "A surprise I'LL like?" he asked suspiciously.
"We're stopping in Fountain?" he went on as Jack turned off the 115 and
then again onto Parker Road.
"Antiques
and Crafts Fair," Jack admitted self-consciously. "Ethel mentioned
it when I called to make the reservation. She said a couple of reputable
dealers were taking part, and there should be some good stuff. I
just thought…you know." He shrugged it off.
"Oh, oh,
I do," Daniel agreed anxiously. "But this isn't exactly your idea
of a good time."
Jack didn’t
feel any burning desire to tell Daniel he would have all the entertainment
he needed from watching him happily poking around the auction lots and
the dealer's displays, bright-eyed and bushy tailed. It didn't take
much to make Daniel happy; in fact all it really took was Jack. If
Daniel was expecting Jack to be bored, he was mistaken. Having Jack's
attention was a small thing, but important. He had it, and if Jack
had anything to say about it, he also got to have THE single most hideous
objet Jack could find at the fair to saddle him with. "Ethel mentioned
free lemonade and a county wide cake competition," he winked at Daniel.
"Better
and better."
Jack could
see the line of cars and trucks ahead of them and decided to pull in and
park where they were. He'd bet money they'd still beat the traffic.
Daniel waited for him on the sidewalk while he locked the truck and set
the alarm. Jack leered at him as he put his hat on and tilted the
brim.
"Did I
mention I like the shades too?" Daniel asked. "Keep that in mind."
They strolled
along, not exactly dawdling but close, enjoying the sunshine. When
Jack tried to remember the last time he'd been this happy he scared himself
how far back he had to go, back to when he was promoted to colonel and
got those ten precious months at the Air War College. Ten months
where he got to go home to Sara and Charlie every night, and the biggest
thing on Sara's mind was getting Charlie to eat carrots, because the worst
thing he had to face was bad grades and paper cuts. Not that grades
had ever been a problem.
Jack glanced
over at his linguist, just cruising along, perfectly content, admiring
the trees and Jack's ass as he went. He had an irresistible urge
to mess with dear Dr Jackson's mind. "Two PhD's, huh?"
Daniel
nodded vaguely. "Anthropology and linguistics."
"So how
come you always insist you're a doctor of archaeology?" Jack prompted.
"I am,"
Daniel looked at him, focusing for the first time. "My PhD is in
language and literature, which is a specialised branch of archaeology.
That was my second PhD, from the Oriental Institute of the University of
Chicago." He smiled at Jack. "That's where my parents met," he said
softly. "At the Institute. They fought like cat and dog, competed
for every scholarship, fellowship and award going and always got beat out
by this one guy who wasn't distracted by…um…" he faltered awkwardly to
a stop.
Jack took
the mind-blowing hot sex as read and let Daniel skip the ewwwy bit.
"If you wanted to follow in your parents footsteps, how come you wound
up at UCLA?"
Daniel's
face tightened. "I was sixteen when I started UCLA as a freshman.
Social Services in New York didn't know what to do with me when I graduated
school early and none of the universities in New York would take me, not
with a caseworker to keep happy. Too much paperwork. The University
of Chicago said yes, Chicago Social Services said no. In fact, LA
was the only place that would take me with agreement from both the university
and Social Services. The fact UCLA is top ten for anthro was a fluke.
LA Social Services assigned me a caseworker and a couple of foster placements
to get me to my eighteenth birthday. I was luckier than most students.
The Educational Enrichment Programme took care of my fees for the first
two years and I made a lot of friends among the library staff and…" Daniel
looked embarrassed. "When I left foster care I got a job…what they
described as 'relief cover' which…um…"
"Oddly
matched your lecture schedule exactly?" Jack enquired. "I'm sure
they exploited you ruthlessly."
"Shut
up."
"Tell
me you didn’t date any of them," Jack sighed.
Daniel
seemed to find his hiking boots a source of great interest.
"Dear
God. Social Services just threw an eighteen year old virgin at a
bunch of sex-crazed librarians?" Jack nimbly sidestepped Daniel's viciously
jabbing elbow. "They oil you up and hurl you at the help desk?" he
asked interestedly. "Did you HAVE any duties? APART from wafting
round the stacks being young, hot, sweet and nice?"
"Shut
up."
"Birds,
bees and Boolean, huh?" Jack snorted. "Kinks and keywords."
Daniel
stared at him. "It's equally odd that you speak with such confidence
of stacks and keywords. What happened to 'me Jack, me dumb'?"
"Me colonel,"
Jack smirked. "Me dumb, we dead."
"You went
to the Air Force Academy, right?" Daniel asked, still staring at Jack,
brow wrinkling thoughtfully.
"They
had a library at the Academy," Jack said placidly. He wanted to milk
the wrinkled brow moment. Poor Daniel. It was hell being a
genius AND adorable. The Academy had a nice, big library he'd spent
a lot of time in because his roomie had spent a lot of time in a fellow
cadet.
"Tell
me you didn't date any of them," Daniel parroted.
Jack strove
in vain for modesty.
"You graduated
with a BSc, right?" Daniel persisted.
"Yep."
"With
a focus on…what? What was your major?" Daniel nudged him when he
didn't answer straight away.
"I'm a
pilot, Top Gun as a matter of fact." Jack let Daniel's lack of reaction
go, he'd ooh and aah and be suitably proud as soon as he confirmed on Google
that Jack didn’t win some prize for nailing Kelly McGillis. "Special
Ops colonel, amateur astronomer, viewer of C-Span, avid reader of National
Geographic…you tell me," he challenged. That would keep Daniel out
of mischief for a while.
One of
the drivers in the gridlock returned Jack's cheery wave with a gesture
of his own. Jack's smile widened. Life was looking good.
He made full use of Daniel's distraction to get them into Parker Park,
which was the stupidest name he could think of FOR a park, and through
the throng of people milling around at the entrance, with the kind of expertise
only a three-time Disneyworld veteran could manage.
"Want
to register for the auction?" Jack prompted.
Daniel
focused again. "Please. You weren't an engineering major, that
much is obvious."
Jack decided
if they snuck around the back of the cake competition tent, they'd get
the drop on the day trippers. He had no doubt at all the pros would
already have their spots for the auction picked out, along with all the
lots they were bidding on. Fortunately, he and Daniel were here as
browsers not bidders, so it didn't matter to them. "Obviously?" he
scowled over his shoulder at Daniel as they cut rapidly across the ground
where the two tents backed onto each other.
"Your
putative expertise in magnetism aside," Daniel explained. He
caught sight of Jack's face and sniffed. "Not that kind of magnetism,
and I'm hardened to the big, pleading puppy eyes, so don't even bother,"
he said crisply.
"No you're
not," Jack snorted. "You melt like ice cream under a blow torch."
Daniel half-heartedly glared back at him but couldn’t really deny what
was in fact the absolute truth. Daniel just didn't want to admit
he was ridiculously tender hearted and susceptible where Jack was concerned.
Jack had to fight himself tooth and claw not to take advantage of Daniel's
sensitivity, of just how much he loved him. Daniel was far too indulgent
with him as it was. Jack was the one making all the demands, relentlessly
pushing his way into Daniel's personal space, into his privacy, way too
quickly. He knew part of it was that Daniel loved him deeply, and
had for a long time, but part of it was insecurity, something that would
only be cured by time and familiarity. Jack may have muscled his
way in, but he wasn't going anywhere. Sooner or later, Daniel would
get that, and tragically the days of being shamelessly indulged would cease
and desist. Jack was trying for all the quality lap time he could
now so he'd have something to annoy Daniel with on the day he stopped putting
down the book and cuddling up next to him on the couch for what that noble
bastion of English culture the BBC referred to so quaintly as snogging.
Sooner or later he would get Daniel actually onto his lap. "Being
nice is one of your most engaging qualities," he said softly, smiling as
Daniel squirmed with embarrassment at the compliment, looking anywhere
but at Jack. "It's rare enough in the world," he added dryly.
As they
got in line, Jack leaned in. "Look winsome and affluent," he ordered.
"And tell me more about magnetism," he prodded.
"Ow!"
Daniel ostentatiously rubbed his side. "If you were an engineering
major, George wouldn't let you get away with half the things you say to
Sam, " he picked up his argument where he left off. "I'm not saying
your lummox act isn’t Oscar-worthy…"
"Lummox?"
"Lummox,"
Daniel emphasised.
"I'm not
clumsy."
"You're
not stupid either," Daniel said smugly.
Jack made
for an unexpected break in the line, beating out three large snarling women
and a small friendly dog that sniffed his foot and licked him before settling
down to chew his laces. Jack waved his MasterCard and drivers licence
at the clerk, Daniel did the same, and Jack emerged triumphant from the
line with Daniel, two crudely numbered ping pong paddles and the dog.
"We can't
keep him," Daniel said sympathetically, making a paw of his hand and holding
it out for the dog to sniff.
The dog
licked Daniel too, and snuggled into the petting and stroking that followed,
still licking.
"Remind
you of anyone?" Jack grinned. "This is a cute dog." He stroked
it soothingly as Daniel leaned in to check out the name tag on the collar.
"Elvis."
Jack lifted
Elvis, who licked his chin enthusiastically, for a closer inspection.
"He's got a floppy ear."
"I know,"
Daniel agreed softly. "And a wayward tail." He stroked Elvis.
"He's lost. He needs reassurance," he explained as he kept on stroking.
"Absolutely,"
Jack agreed heartily. Nothing to do with the silky brown and white
fur or the licking. He took in the softness in Daniel's eyes and
the gentle fingers. "You never had a dog when you were a kid?"
"One of
my foster placements - they had a dog." Daniel looked up self-consciously.
"When the placement ended, I couldn’t understand why I had to leave Fred
behind too. I tried not to get attached after that."
"There
are times when I could cheerfully strangle Nick," Jack said conversationally,
handing Daniel the dog. "I see a PA system over there. Must
be the organiser's tent. Let's take Elvis over and give him up before
we Thelma and Louise him away from some weeping six year old."
Daniel
hugged Elvis closer. "He's well taken care of," he admitted.
"Happy." Elvis tried to climb over Daniel's shoulder and settled
for draping his paws on Daniel's chest and mock-growling until he got fingers
to nibble. "We can't keep him," Daniel warned Jack.
"No,"
Jack agreed meekly. He decided to replace the large, well trained
working dog of his pre-Daniel retirement plans with a small friendly dog
that was predisposed to lick and give attitude.
Jack went
ahead to explain the situation to the woman making the announcements and
she agreed to take Elvis off their hands. Daniel handed Elvis over
reluctantly, lingering to pet him until Jack hard-heartedly peeled him
away and pulled him into the crowd. Unfortunately the announcement
requesting Elvis's owners to come pick him up was drowned out by heart
rending whining. "Aw, jeez," Jack groaned as Daniel shot him
a distinctly accusatory look.
"We should
have stayed with him," Daniel fretted, looking back longingly as Jack ruthlessly
dragged him away.
Jack was
glad they were still within earshot when the whining segued into ecstatic
barking. He went with the noble tradition of parenting everywhere
and tried bribery. "Lemonade stand," he said firmly. "It's
got actual lemons." Daniel didn't seem particularly receptive to
lemons at this precise point in time. He was still watching Elvis,
who didn't seem overly enthused with the announcer while Daniel was frowning
at his touching reunion with whoever it was had been careless enough to
lose him in the first place. Jack glimpsed the auction tent through
a small break in the trees and marched off. It was time to get tactical.
He went with a diversion. "Did I mention my Masters degree?" he called
over his shoulder, smirking as Daniel caught up with him a moment later.
Daniel was such a pushover.
"Masters
degree?" Daniel asked inquisitively.
"It's
a prerequisite," Jack said lightly. "The standard for promotion to
major in the Air Force is a masters degree."
"Well,
despite all the books you have hidden in your basement, and the fact you've
corrected my grammar on more than one occasion, I doubt you're an English
major," Daniel mused.
"Hidden?"
Jack protested.
"You have
a laundry-cum-library down there." Daniel looked across at Jack,
eyes sparkling. "I know it's hard to work books into attack helicopter
themed décor. Not that I don’t appreciate rotors," he teased.
"I mean, I know you feel the exact same way about my 'little brushy things'…"
"Which
I only borrowed that one damn time," Jack griped. "Didn't dare try
that again after the fuss you made, just because I used it to…"
"I know
what you used it to…I know exactly," Daniel snapped. "Stop trying
to change the subject. Did you take a sabbatical to get your masters?"
"Nope,
but I'll give you a clue," Jack said cheerfully. "I did it before
I went to the Special Operations School. And YEARS before I went
to the Air War College. That's graduate level education too."
Something he snowed Carter into forgetting every damn time.
"If you
were a pilot you would most likely have been stationed in this country,"
Daniel speculated, watching Jack's face for clues.
Jack just
used the face he normally used when Carter Explained Stuff.
"If I
was Sam I'd smack you one," Daniel said coldly.
Pity it
didn’t work on the linguist.
"You went
to the University of Minnesota," Daniel suggested, carefully watching Jack's
reaction. He nodded. "And if it was before you went to…"
"SOS,"
Jack chuckled. "Trust me."
Daniel
winced sympathetically. "So you've graduated from High School, the
Air Force Academy, Flight School, where you were Top Gun," he added conscientiously,
"Special Operations School, the University of Minnesota AND the Air War
College." Daniel shook his head in mild disbelief. "You don't
do a damn thing you don't want to, do you?" he asked half- admiringly,
half-disapprovingly.
Jack beamed
at him.
"Political
science?" Daniel suggested, eyes soft. "You're a cynic, Jack, and
a cynic is just a frustrated idealist. Before you can change your
world, you have to understand it. As for your masters, if you went
into Special Forces after that, I'd suggest international relations.
The politics of policing the global market." Daniel's smile widened
with satisfaction. "There had to be some reason for George to keep
right on indulging you, even if it wasn't immediately apparent," he grinned
wickedly and darted off into the auction tent. "I'll check it all
out and get back to you."
"What
do you mean? 'Not immediately apparent'?" Jack fumed, hurrying to catch
up with him. The first thing they found in the stifling hot tent
was a large board with Polaroids and a description of the contents of all
the boxes.
After
reading the notice pinned above the snaps, Daniel turned to him incredulously.
"People SWAP the contents of the lots? That's…that's…"
"Enterprising?"
Jack asked sourly.
"That's
one word for it," a soft, low voice rumbled behind them.
They turned
to find a middle-aged couple waiting patiently behind them to get a look
at the board, both in shorts, both in hats, both in love and holding hands.
Jack and Daniel stepped aside to make room for them.
"It's
no fun when you bid a couple of thousand dollars for an antique appliqué
quilt and when you get your lot the contents are a legless Barbie, a check
tablecloth and a licence plate from Dubuque," the speaker's wife agreed.
Jack was
looking at a quiet, thoughtful man with veteran written all over him.
"I'm Tom,"
he said. "And this is Jen," he nudged his wife.
"I'm Daniel,
and this is Jack," Daniel smiled at them as they shook hands.
Tom seemed
to weigh them up and decide they were good people. "You serve?" he
asked Jack.
"I'm a
colonel in the Air Force. Sir?" he prompted Tom.
"I'm Navy,"
Tom said modestly.
"Tom was
MCPON when he retired," Jen told them proudly, squeezing her husband's
hand.
"Master
Chief Petty Officer of the Navy," Jack explained to Daniel.
"And you,
son?" Tom asked.
"I'm an
archaeologist," Daniel offered.
"Expert
in languages," Jack told them with justifiable pride. "Twenty three
languages," he couldn't resist adding, basking in the oohs and aahs and
the perennial 'isn't he young!' Daniel could hate him later, for
the make up sex.
"You boys
work up at Peterson?" Jen asked them brightly.
"Doesn't
everyone?" Tom snorted. "You bidding today? Take a word of
advice, and don't be too obvious picking out your lots. We might
be in a tent in a field in park with a stupid name, but there are some
pieces of work who get to these auctions, shop owners, serious collectors
and the like. The kind who want a dollar change from fifty cents.
Don't get me wrong, they're not all like that, but there are a few."
"Thanks
for the warning," Daniel said gratefully. "We weren't really planning
to bid but…"
Jen laughed
outright, shaking her head tragically at their naïveté.
"Honey, that's what ALL the rookies say first time out! Then they
stagger back to their cars laden down with who knows what costing they
wish they didn't know what," she teased.
"You get
in that zone and bid your ass off for crap," Tom sighed. "It's embarrassing.
Auction fever happens to the best of us. You never know when it's
gonna strike or how long it will last. If it does hit, just take
the paddle away." He scowled at his wife. "Jen smacked me in
the head with it one time," he announced provocatively.
"I barely
touched you!" Jen complained, scowling up at him. "I should have
hit you harder. Two thousand bucks!"
It was
obviously an old grudge match. Jack and Daniel looked suitably aghast.
"Nice
meeting you boys. Have fun," Tom grinned, steering his wife away,
the two of them still amicably bickering.
"Who can
resist honeymooners?" Jack grinned.
"Are you
telling me they don't completely intimidate you?" Daniel asked, disbelieving.
"Who can live up to that kind of expectation? Aren't you completely
in awe of two people who can live together for forty of fifty years and
still be in love? I am."
"It takes
work." A particularly reverberant comment had them both chuckling
at the combatants, who were really getting into it over a box of
glassware. They could see Tom sneering from here. "And
VAST tolerance. Which we have," Jack added hastily.
"We do?"
Daniel asked innocently, angling gently over to inspect the first row of
boxes.
"Okay,
okay, you do," Jack amended, looking unenthusiastically at his rival bidders.
"It's hot as hell in here. You want that lemonade now?"
Daniel
chuckled. "Which translates as you want your cake now."
"It's
a county-wide competition!" Jack felt the importance of that should be
self-evident to any snack lover. "For our sake, I hope it's cut-throat.
That means GOOD eating."
"What
are the odds of you not whining if I say no?" Daniel asked, wincing over
a box full of distressed china.
"Slim
to none."
"Don't
eat my cake," Daniel warned him sternly.
"Would
I?"
"You did
on Friday."
"My word
of honour as an officer and a gentleman!" Jack made with the big, wounded
eyes.
Daniel
nodded solemnly. "That's exactly what you said to me on Friday before
you ate my cake and again when I complained about you eating my cake.
You should have stuck with the swooping eagle story. It was more
convincing."
Daniel
wrote off aisle two of the tent. He'd seen nothing in the boxes of
china to tempt his interest, then crossed paths with Tom and Jen in glassware
and they'd all despaired. Jen had dragged Tom over to look at dresses
and frilly lingerie while Daniel withdrew to a discreet distance - out
of earshot of Tom's pained protests - to browse his way through the quilts
and textiles. Jack had been gone for around half an hour. It
was possible he'd been attacked by a swooping eagle with a cake fetish,
but knowing Jack, he'd probably convinced the anxious competitors he was
the judge from Manitou Springs or something just so he could get more cake.
He knew no shame in the pursuit of quality snacks.
Daniel
had found a quilt he thought Sam would like, a lovely one with a repeated
appliqué pattern of tulips. The soft pastels were appealing,
colours Sam often wore. The auction catalogue described them as ice
cream shades. It also described the price.
"Hey,"
Jack breathed in his ear, making him jump.
Sneaky
silent sonovabitch! He had to be doing that on purpose. Had
to be.
"That's…floral,"
Jack said carefully, eyeing the quilt dubiously.
"It'll
be perfect with your new blue colour scheme," Daniel informed him gravely.
Jack rocked
back on his heels, took a deep breath and a long, hard look at the quilt
and shuddered convulsively. Then he looked pleadingly at Daniel.
"No." Jack looked again. "I love you but…no."
Daniel
held up the catalogue for inspection.
"Shit
no!" Jack sputtered. "HOW much?"
"It would
make a lovely present for Sam," Daniel coaxed.
"I don't
like Carter that much," Jack riposted.
"If Teal'c
will contribute, that's only two hundred dollars each," Daniel rebuked
him. "Don't tell me Sam isn’t worth two hundred bucks."
"Each?"
Daniel
trod heavily on Jack's foot. "Cake," he ordered, holding out his
hand.
Jack brightened.
"After extensive sampling, I narrowed it down to this one." He held
out a cup of lemonade and a napkin filled with a hunk of something dark,
rich and moist. "Date and orange. Spectacular. I waved
my ass and got the recipe from Mrs Date and Orange," he said proudly.
"I got Intel too. We can get all the stuff in 'Not Carol's', because
Doris does, and she says the secret is to leave the tea loaf in the tin
for twenty-four hours before you eat it. It'll take discipline, but
we can probably hold out if we're not in town. Oh, I checked about
the tea part. It's the type of cake this is. We don’t have
to start swigging Orange Pekoe or anything," he assured Daniel.
Daniel
inspected his wedge - it should have been a slice but he guessed the absent
Doris shared his own opinion of Jack's ass - of cake, which came with its
own set of teeth marks. "You had to sample this piece too?" he asked
politely.
"It might
not have been nice as the others," Jack said defensively. "I was
only thinking of you."
Daniel
was still trying to formulate an adequate response when Jack took advantage
of his stupefaction to take a massive, deliberate bite out of the other,
larger wedge of cake, which Daniel noticed too late was absolutely pristine.
"Your butt does look big in those," he said unkindly.
Jack jovially
flipped him the bird and kept right on munching as he sauntered down the
line of boxes, sneering at the textiles.
Daniel
trailed along in his wake, nibbling his cake, which did taste as good as
Jack said it did. Most of the people in the tent were filtering away
to the auction now, Tom and Jen included, waving from the entrance.
Daniel waved back, forgetting about the lemonade he was clutching.
It hit some guy in the back of the neck. "Oh! I'm sorry.
I didn't realise I was…" Daniel trailed off as the lemonade guy turned
slowly and menacingly. "That would be a really bad idea," he said
calmly.
As lemonade
guy looked him up and down interestedly, his scowl segued into a warm,
engaging smile. "Asking you out would be a really bad idea?" He winked
at Daniel. "Don't say no 'til you've tried me," he added teasingly.
"I think
you might have to try him first," Daniel sighed, glaring down his indignant
colonel, who was closing in rapidly for what looked suspiciously like the
kill. "Jack!" This had no perceptible effect whatsoever on
Jack's speed or motivation.
Lemonade
guy glanced around and stupidly stood his ground. Daniel felt absolved
of all blame if the guy didn't have the sense not to play in traffic, stepped
neatly round him and left Jack to play. He browsed through the textiles,
letting the frank exchange of views wash over him, glancing back now and
again to make sure Jack was playing nice. Jack was enjoying himself.
Lemonade guy wasn't. He also wasn't getting away any time soon.
Jack had a lot to say about good manners and 'excessive politeness'.
Daniel used to have a lot to say about Jack being unable to let him fight
his own battles. Now he just shrugged it off. Jack was the
way he was and Daniel getting hit on right in front of him was kind of
new, so Daniel was cutting him some slack. This time.
A flash
of rich blue towards the end of the row of boxes caught Daniel's eye.
He headed over to investigate, knocked first off his stride by lemonade
guy accelerating past him, then almost on his ass by six-two of enthusiastically
'concerned' colonel. "Checking for injuries my ass!" Daniel hissed,
shrugging Jack off. "He barely touched me. Unlike you."
He kicked Jack on the ankle. "Back off."
"You're
no fun at all," Jack complained, backing off a few inches. He leaned
against Daniel to check out the contents of the box. "We're bidding,
huh?" he asked softly.
"Oh, yes,"
Daniel murmured. "It's Amish."
"How much?"
Jack asked, twitching the catalogue from Daniel's grip.
Daniel
crossed his arms over his chest and waited, curious to see Jack's reaction.
"I guess
we go for pale blue for the walls then, set it off," Jack said lightly.
Daniel
smiled involuntarily. "You are such a pushover, O'Neill," he said
gently.
"You're
getting off just looking at this thing. You bet your bippy we're
buying it," Jack grinned. "Let's show some hustle," he ordered briskly.
"First we buy, then we try," he leered.
Despite
what Tom and Jen had told them about telegraphing their interest in a lot,
Daniel couldn’t help looking back longingly as they walked out of the tent.
The quilt was stunning; a classic nine block pattern in the most intense
blues and blue greens imaginable. With all the natural wood and the
plants in Jack's bedroom, a pale blue-grey on the walls would frame it
perfectly.
They meandered
through the stalls, following the small stream of people headed for the
gazebo in the centre of the park.
"Looks
like the auction already started," Jack nodded casually at the neat rows
of chairs set out in front of the gazebo, already full. "We're on
the grassy knoll."
They wound
their way through the couples and families sprawled comfortably on the
grassy bank and sat down. As soon as Daniel was settled, Jack snagged
the lemonade and took a long, reviving drink.
"I finished
mine," he offered by way of explanation.
Daniel
was looking intently at a couple around the curve of the bank, near the
rose beds. "I'm sure they live in my building. Leigh and…I can't
remember."
"You sure
you don't want this?" Jack asked innocently, when Daniel made no move to
take the lemonade back.
"I wish
I could remember," Daniel said, frustrated, still staring a small brown
and white head resting on the knee of the guy he couldn't remember.
He'd thought the couple who picked Elvis up from the announcer were familiar,
but hadn't been able to place them.
"Why?"
Jack asked reasonably. "You don't have neighbours. You have
people who live in your building, the same way I have people along my drive
and Carter on her block.
"I have
neighbours now," Daniel announced definitively. "Elvis is in my building."
He thought furiously for a moment. "Okay, this is what we do.
We bid on whatever it is Leigh and someone wants, buy it, and…"
"Offer
to trade it for the dog?" Jack asked dryly. "You didn't learn your
lesson with the fish? You had to flush every time you fed them."
"No,"
Daniel said impatiently. "We sell them what they want at a reasonable
price…"
"Not TOO
reasonable."
"And ask
if I…"
"We,"
Jack corrected instantly.
"We can
dog sit," Daniel beamed at him.
"Rent
a dog?" Jack asked incredulously.
"Don't
tell me you wouldn't do it," Daniel hooted. "In fact you did!" he
accused. "You made a deal with Iris for access to Alfred the dog.
'What you can't do with a woman's guttering!'" he quoted triumphantly.
"We'd
have to keep them apart. Alfred would eat Elvis," Jack said positively.
"What do we do if they say no? Stalk the dog?"
"You have
all that training," Daniel placidly pointed out. "Why not do something
useful with it for a change?" he coaxed.
A man
leaned in and tapped Jack on the shoulder. "Excuse me," he asked
politely. "I couldn't help overhearing part of your conversation.
I'm pretty sure we've got a blockage somewhere because the guttering overflows
every time it rains. Do you do free estimates?"
Jack glared
at him, ignoring Daniel's wide-eyed fascination. "I'm in the Air
Force."
"I guess
not everyone makes it as a pilot," the man said sympathetically. "But I
bet you could make a lot more than Uncle Sam pays if you freelanced.
People round here would KILL for a decent plumber."
Despite
himself, Daniel's eyes went straight to Leigh and her someone. "Reeally?"
he drawled, fondly watching Elvis snooze.
"You can't
afford me," Jack sniffed.
"He means
how much more?" Daniel informed the man kindly.
The man
told them.
"How much
more?" Jack asked weakly.
The man
told them again.
"I'm signing
up for night school," Jack said flatly. "Sheesh." He turned
around. "He's good with a shovel," he jerked his thumb at Daniel.
"How much could he make?"
"Enough
to buy his own dog," the man grinned.
Daniel
grinned back. "He is a pilot," he said regretfully, nodding at Jack.
"I also
plumb," Jack announced emphatically.
"I'll
talk to you…" The man abruptly stiffened. "Dammit! That was
MY lot!" He bounded to his feet. "Hey!" he hollered at the
auctioneer. "You wanna raise the volume a tad? We can hear
ourselves think back here!"
A ripple
of laughter ran along the grassy knoll.
"You tell
him, Captain!" someone called out, chuckling.
The man
bowed ironically as the auctioneer stalked over to the PA system and cranked
up the volume to an ear splitting whine that made everyone jump and, Daniel
couldn't help but notice, since he happened to be glancing in that direction,
woke Elvis right up.
Soooo…how
could he attract Elvis's attention without Leigh and someone realising…he
didn't want to be obvious.
"Captain?"
Jack echoed. "You serve?" he asked as the man sat back down to a
round of applause. "Stop waving at the dog, Daniel."
"I protect
and serve," the man said gently.
Daniel
stopped waving at the dog. "Oh," he said inadequately. "Um…"
"Just
keep on doing what you're doing. I need the arrest," the captain
said meanly.
"You're
good," Jack said admiringly, highly entertained by Daniel's sputtering.
"It took me years to work out to shut him up that quick."
"Why don't
you wave your paddle?" the captain suggested to Daniel as Elvis yawned,
stretched and decided to take a stroll, nimbly evading Leigh's clutching
hand. "Make it a felony," he coaxed.
"That's
entrapment," Daniel said indignantly, realising almost immediately there
was no graceful way to get out of this. Elvis was sauntering through
the crowd, sniffing here and there. The three of them watched as
he sat at a woman's feet and begged appealingly for her hot dog.
"Reminds
me of you," Daniel said involuntarily to Jack, forgetting his audience.
"He shoots
and he scores!" Jack hooted as Elvis wolfed down the hot dog he was tossed
and swaggered off before the woman could pet him.
"Why do
I keep hearing the theme to 'Jaws'?" the captain asked sweetly, grinning
as Daniel vainly tried to look inconspicuous while Elvis got closer and
closer.
Elvis
stiffened suddenly, sniffing the air. Then he barked and tore across
the grassy knoll to tumble into Daniel's lap, licking ecstatically.
Daniel hugged him close, trying and probably failing to look like this
was sheer coincidence and nothing whatsoever to do with felonious canine
stalking. He waved somewhat limply at Leigh and damn, why couldn't
he remember the guy's name! They cheerfully waved back as he fussed
over Elvis, who was shamelessly snuggling in to be stroked, his tail wagging
furiously as he sniffed then licked Daniel's ear.
"You have
the right to remain silent," the captain informed Daniel solemnly as Elvis
settled down to some serious finger nibbling, both of them luxuriating
in the petting.
"Oh, PLEASE,"
Jack begged.
"Shut
up!" Jack snarled as he slammed the truck door and stalked towards the
path leading up to the entrance of the Dining Room.
"They
have GREAT historical significance, Jack," Daniel assured him earnestly,
hurrying to catch up to his seething colonel.
"These
people haven't heard of pruning?" Jack demanded, impatiently shoving a
juniper branch out of his way.
"Rustic
charm," Daniel riposted.
"Skunk
brush?" Jack eyed the undergrowth incredulously. "Charm?"
"Skillet
fried chicken, coleslaw, riced potatoes with gravy, vegetables, biscuits
and apple butter," Daniel recited dreamily.
"Okay,
that's charm," Jack admitted reluctantly, pulling the door of the small
red mud building open for Daniel.
Daniel
looked around appreciatively at the crisp white linen and the whitewashed
walls and pine furniture. "Nice." He smiled sweetly at Jack's
stony face. "I don't know why you're so pissy," he said gently.
"We got Sam's quilt, we got ours…"
"We?
What's this we?" Jack hissed indignantly. "I don't recall seeing
your paddle in the action. For five thousand bucks I got ours!"
Daniel
dropped his head and batted his eyes winsomely.
Jack eyed
him with dislike.
"We got
access to Elvis, we surprisingly didn't get arrested for anything…"
"Not even
for aggravating assault with a ping pong paddle," Jack said bitterly.
"Aggravated,"
Daniel corrected.
"I know
what I mean," Jack sniffed.
"I barely
touched you, and according to all the witnesses, you had it coming," Daniel
sneered.
"The same
witnesses who didn't see a damn thing?"
"You're
only mad because someone yelled 'hit him again'," Daniel blithely pointed
out. "And of course we got…"
"Table
for one," Jack called loudly to Ethel, bustling out to greet them, flushed
and rosy from the heat of the kitchen.
"Your
doilies!" Daniel projected his lecture-honed voice effortlessly above Jack's.
Ethel stopped in her tracks and slowly looked Jack up and down, a definite
twinkle in her eyes.
"They're
of great historical significance," Jack told Ethel defensively, shooting
a killing look at Daniel.
"Absolutely,"
Ethel agreed gravely. She smiled at them. "Welcome to our house."
Daniel
neatly sidestepped Jack. "Table for two," he asked politely, shaking
hands with their hostess.
"I've
kept you the corner table," Ethel turned and made her way through the tables,
smiling and joking with the diners, a good mix of couples and families.
"Between the windows. Best seat in the house," she said jovially.
"How's Iris keeping? And that stupid mutt of hers." She grinned
at Daniel. "Iris says this one…" she tapped Jack in the chest.
"Is the biggest pushover on the planet."
"Doilies,"
Daniel said simply.
"Sucker,"
Ethel shook her head sadly.
"Iris
is keeping just fine," Jack offered stiffly. A few people were smoking
so he opened the tall, black framed window to let the garden air freshen
the table.
Ethel
let them get settled. "Would you care to see the menu?" she teased.
"Chicken,"
Jack and Daniel chorused.
"Now,
now," Ethel chided them, "We do serve the occasional baked ham, you know!"
"And all
the trimmings," Jack ordered emphatically.
"Two,"
Daniel said firmly.
"I'll
be back with the coffeepot before you know it," Ethel grinned as she turned
to head back into the kitchen.
Daniel
beamed at Jack. "You know that Special Operations School you were
telling me about? Where you were trained to pick locks and drive
offensively…"
Jack nodded
cautiously.
"You've
mentioned before you've been trained to withstand mind control techniques,"
Daniel announced sententiously. "Tell me…did you take the FULL course?"
Jack slouched
sullenly in his seat and took a deep, pointed interest in the garden.
"Because
I've never seen anyone wield a paddle QUITE as energetically as you," Daniel
went on. "You were like Forrest Gump on speed. Four hundred
dollars for a box full of Victorian DOILIES? Did you even hear what
I said to you?" Jack refused to look at him. Daniel couldn’t
resist chuckling over his discomfiture. "I should have realised the
way you went for the quilt. That poor woman from Glendale didn't
know what hit her."
"That's
your fault," Jack denied vigorously, scowling at Daniel. "If you
hadn't let Elvis chew your paddle - for which we can add the twenty bucks
forfeiture fee to the day's accounts - YOU would have been bidding."
"It didn't
occur to me I'd do a better job, what with all your training in withstanding
extreme torture and mind control techniques," Daniel admitted regretfully.
"I guess you skipped the 'have paddle MUST BID MORE!' part of the training
course."
"If you
tell anyone…" Jack threatened darkly.
Daniel
made with the big limpid eyes.
"Not Ferretti,"
Jack groaned piteously, sagging in his seat.
"Would
I?" Daniel asked, wounded.
"Bastard!"
Jack mouthed, conscious of their family audience. "You can sleep
on the couch!" he hissed.
"No, I
can't. You won't last ten minutes without…um…thanks Ethel," Daniel
changed subject fluently, smiling brightly up at Ethel. She winked
at him as she placed two large green mugs down and filled them to the brim
with steaming, fragrant coffee.
"Thank
you," Jack relaxed slightly.
"Food
in five," Ethel told them chattily, turning at a hail from a table near
the fireplace, something alarming about the apple cobbler.
"Without
'relations'," Daniel picked up where he lef | 
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