WORLD ENOUGH, AND TIME: AN ALTERNATE REALITY NOVEL BY BIBLIO
CHAPTER 8: FIRST TENTATIVE TOUCH

CHAPTER  8: FIRST TENTATIVE TOUCH

"Doctor Fraiser?" General Hammond called.

Fraiser looked up smiling from her place at the briefing table between Sam and Colonel O'Neill. "Dr. Jackson is cleared for light duties, Sir." She looked sternly across the table at Daniel, sandwiched between Ferretti and Kawalsky. "I do mean light," she emphasised. "No heavy loads, no lifting your good arm above shoulder height. You can work for four hours and then you rest."

"I'll have an airman stationed outside your office," Hammond crisply informed Daniel.

"If you need anything heavier than a café latte, just holler," Jack added casually.

"Won't he get bored?" Daniel asked involuntarily. "The airman?"

Jack, Sam, the general, Ferretti and Kawalsky, Janet Fraiser and even the technician who was futzing with the computer terminal he was setting up in the corner of the briefing room looked at Daniel as if he were crazy.

"He'll be there on orders," Jack said as if it explained everything.

"He gets paid," Kawalsky added.

"But not much," Ferretti pointed out in the spirit of factual accuracy.

"If you follow my instructions to the letter, Dr. Jackson, I see no reason why I shouldn't be able to clear you for active duty in a month's time," Dr. Fraiser told him kindly. "Just avoid strenuous activity."

Ferretti straightened up and made a show of looking at his report for the briefing, apparently feeling Jack's sudden, forbidding scowl was directed at him.

"And get yourself a good masseur," Dr. Fraiser ordered.

Jack's scowl dissolved into a smile that was distinctly malicious.

Daniel surreptitiously shot Jack an aggravated look that bounced right off of him. Why did everything have to keep coming back to sex?

"It's extremely beneficial as an aid to recovering full mobility in the shoulder joint and arm, and to improving posture." Dr. Fraiser looked Daniel over frowningly. "In fact - "

No, Daniel thought desperately. Please!

"I'm making that an order."

Damn!

"I'm a civilian," Daniel reminded her snappily.

Dr. Fraiser raised an eyebrow, considered this irrelevant factor for perhaps a second then dismissed it utterly. "I'm ordering you to schedule appointments for therapeutic massage before I'll consider returning you to active duty," she said briskly. "Combined with regular cold applications and the rehabilitation exercises I prescribed, we should be looking at a best case prognosis with full mobility restored to the scapula."

Hammond smiled measured approval.

"The colonel is kick-ass at this stuff, Daniel," Kawalsky cheerfully volunteered his arrogantly confident commanding officer.

Jack's malice became tinged with fatuous pleasure.

If Daniel could have reached him under the table, he would have kicked Jack right in the shin, along with the technician in the corner, who seemed to find this all very funny indeed.

"He is," Ferretti backed Kawalsky up, looking serious for once. "The team would never have made it out of - well, it doesn't matter where," he said uncomfortably. "The way Brown's leg was cramping, he slowed the whole unit down."

Kawalsky nodded soberly.

"Colonel?" Hammond prompted Jack.

"I stand ready to assist, Sir, as always," Jack announced grandiloquently.

Sam leaned around Janet to stare at him in mild disbelief, thinking the colonel's ego should come with a wide-load warning. Janet rolled her eyes and Sam smothered an insubordinate chuckle.

Daniel sagged as Dr. Fraiser nodded permission, slightly reluctantly.

"I'll ask for a volunteer to assist you over the next four weeks, Dr. Jackson, if it will set your mind at rest," Hammond offered kindly.

"We don't have anyone with that high a boredom threshold," Ferretti commented after considering this prospect for some time. "Or that low an IQ he could be talked into it."

"We had how many volunteers?" Sam demanded, gaping at Ferretti, her blue Jell-O quivering on the spoon. Janet put her oozy jelly doughnut down to stare at the captain.

"Twenty-seven," Ferretti said again. "Not all of 'em chicks."

The two chicks at the dining table shot him looks that should have filleted him where he sat, then they all looked in mild disbelief at Daniel, who was toying unenthusiastically with an egg salad sandwich.

"Twenty-seven," Kawalsky parroted incredulously. He shook his head as if to clear it. "That's twenty-seven airmen who would rather carry Daniel's books for him than fight for their country."

"Fight who?" Janet asked blankly.

"What is the Air Force coming to?" Kawalsky complained loudly, ignoring Janet's eminently reasonable question, which he couldn't answer.

"Its senses?" Daniel suggested sarcastically.

He was not at this point enthused about the Air Force. It had managed to inflict one thwarted wannabe lover on him as an official masseur and another in the shape of Sgt. Keely to carry his books, both of them very much looking forward to taking up their respective duties effective immediately.

"Why are you so pissed at me?" Jack demanded as he marched into Daniel's office.

Keely stuck his head around the corner of the other door. "Dr. Jackson?" he asked, frowning at Jack, who straightened up, his body language markedly pulling rank. Jack seemed approving if anything that Keely didn't noticeably back down from this arrogant display.

Even with one suspicion confirmed, Daniel was having a surreal French farce feeling. "It's fine, sergeant, thank you," he said reassuringly. "I need to speak to Colonel O'Neill anyway."

"You do?" Jack looked as if he didn't know which way he was supposed to jump from Daniel's tone of voice, but went with smug pleasure when Daniel manhandled him single-handed back out the door he came in.

"Sergeant Keely volunteered on your orders!" Daniel hissed, hoping they were out of earshot. He steered Jack towards the stairs that connected the two levels his office nestled between. "You can't seriously think whoever attacked me would try again?"

Daniel didn't know which was worse. His mind couldn't deal with the randomness of the attack. Not being able to fathom out the why of it was keeping him awake at night, his mind churning in the quiet, empty stillness. He wasn't fooling himself for a second the alternative, that he was deliberately singled out as a target, was anything but exchanging one set of problems for another.

"We aren't prepared to take the risk," Jack said calmly.

"We?" Daniel snapped, stiffening. "General Hammond," he realised at once.

"Which means your chances of wriggling out of this one are zero-to-none," Jack told him smugly.

"That's why you got two weeks at home with me!" Daniel accused Jack indignantly, extremely put out he had to lean on him to make it up the stairs. He felt stupid yelling at a man he was using as a crutch, keeping silent until they reached the top, where he thanked Jack with freezing politeness for his assistance.

Jack appeared to be laughing at him.

"You were acting as a bodyguard!" Daniel fumed.

"You're just working this out now?" Jack asked pleasantly. He gallantly held open the heavy fire door for Daniel, waving him through with a flourish to walk out into the main corridor. They preserved a discreet silence until they were in the elevator and the doors were closing. "General Hammond isn't prepared to take any risks with your safety. Nor am I," he informed Daniel with unwonted sternness. "You mean too much to the Project and to me." He bit off his words, pissed and reluctant, glancing up edgily at the security camera.

Daniel looked at Jack bashfully, blinking hard. Jack had made it clear he was attracted to Daniel, that he wanted a sexual relationship with him. Daniel was long past the stage of presuming anything. He'd tried very hard not to hope Jack's feelings for him went deeper than friendship and physical attraction, however powerful. He was still conflicted about the whole situation but he was also human and it was impossible not show his pleasure now. He found himself smiling a little.

After a moment of frowning consideration, Jack relaxed and smiled back.

Jack escorted Daniel off the elevator and down the hallway to his own far less salubrious office, not sure whether to laugh or be mad. He waited until the door was safely closed behind them, then gently pinned Daniel against it, planting his palms flat against the metal either side of Daniel's head.

"Why does it surprise you so much I care about you?" he asked straight-forwardly. He wasn't ready to say love.

Daniel's good hand came up to rest on Jack's shoulder, fussing with the fabric of his fatigue jacket. Daniel just shook his head, all the answer he'd give.

"Well then, why are you so pissy about me giving you a little muscle-rub?" Jack demanded.

"I feel like crap," Daniel reluctantly admitted, hanging his head. "I can't take a deep breath, Jack. The pain in my back." He bit his lip. "I may have slept the first three days getting those drugs out of my system but I've made up for it since." His quick smile was humourless.

Jack's supportive face quivered. "Can you hold up a cue card?" he snorted, grinning.

"Jack!" Daniel's indignation was a trifle unconvincing when his fingertips were sliding up into Jack's hair.

Not about to discourage this engaging exploration, Jack kissed Daniel very, very gently, smiling when he was kissed back.

"You'll be amazed how good a long, hot shower and a massage will make you feel, Daniel. Relaxed-good. Maybe relaxed enough to sleep."

"I don't know," Daniel said quickly, then broke off, visibly flustered.

"Tell me," Jack urged him, with another persuasive kiss. He liked seeing Daniel's dazed eyes flutter and close when he kissed him. He liked the small frown and the way Daniel's mouth followed his, when he would've spoken again. He liked Daniel. He was liking him more and more. It was making him more careful than he'd ever been.

"I don't think I can relax." Daniel broke off again, struggling for composure as Jack gently grazed over his jaw line. "N-n-n…"

"Mmm?

"Not if you're touching me." Daniel sounded ashamed to own up to this very agreeable sentiment.

Jack couldn't imagine why.

"I could eat you alive," he growled.

"Oh, god." At this point, it seemed a distinct possibility.

"You want me," Jack said reassuringly. "That's a good thing."

"You're biased." Jack was also right. Daniel wanted Jack more and more, so much he was finding it hard to remember why he didn't just give in. He just – he – he needed to be sure.

If Jack could talk to Daniel it was a start, but Jack really needed to talk to his wife. He needed closure whether he was prepared to admit it or not. If there really was no chance for Jack to be with Sara again - and it was hard for Daniel to fight his own selfish hopes - it didn't make either of them ready to move on. How could it?

How could Daniel be sure he was really who Jack wanted? Who Jack needed? Doubts nagged at him. Jack loved his wife but so long as he believed he couldn't be with her, was he just being pragmatic, prepared to settle for what he could get, considering Daniel his friend, wanting him sexually? Jack was hurting so deeply, was he really making a choice, or was his pursuit of Daniel a consequence of necessity?

"I don't sleep too well either," Jack said quietly, breaking into Daniel's troubled reverie.

The bleak pain in his eyes had Daniel instinctively hugging Jack into him, hurting for him and not sure what he could do for him. He wanted to help Jack so very much.

Jack kissed Daniel's cheek, thinking he'd never met anyone as sweet as him. It wasn't about him being a man, either. Daniel didn't have Sara's warm confidence, but then she'd never had this - for want of a better word - innocence Daniel had. Yet they were both strong people who gave instinctively. It wasn't either of their faults Jack could only take from one of them.

He was very aware getting Daniel to take, getting Daniel to let go and just believe in him, that was a whole other thing.

He held Daniel while they kissed, waiting him out with what patience he could.

"It's not you, Jack."

Daniel drew him closer, brow to brow. Intimate.

"It's me."

This was a time for Jack to listen. To make it easy for Daniel to talk to him.

"I guess I – I have a hard time figuring why you would want me."

The blue eyes were pained and candid.

"It's not about trusting you."

Jack was willing him on.

"It's about trusting myself."

"Would it help if I…" Jack offered, forgetting his resolve to just listen. Daniel hushed him with a kiss. "I like helping," Jack noted, incorrigibly. He would say the words if it would help Daniel to hear them. He would tell him he loved him. "Seriously. You can lay anything on me. Anything. Any time."

"I need to do this. I need to work it out."

"Work what out?" Jack asked cagily, ready to be grieved at his exclusion.

"I need to have some faith."

Jack heard the sound of shaky resolve being stiffened and prayed to God he didn't screw up whatever Daniel was about to throw at him.

Daniel looked straight at him. "I do want you," he said clearly. "Very much."

"That's good to know," Jack told him softly.

"I'm not ready."

"I'm not going anywhere," Jack replied sensitively. "I'm right here. I'm with you."

"I wish I knew why."

Daniel was so subdued, Jack was sure he wasn't supposed to hear the last remark. What he wasn't sure about was whether to pick Daniel up on it, or let it go.

"Every time you kiss me, every time you let me be close like this, I wish I knew why too," he said frankly. "With all the baggage I have, with everything I've done to you, my crazy moods…the list of reasons you wouldn't want to be with me is waaay longer than the list of reasons why you would."

Daniel looked searchingly at him, struggling to accept this despite all his brave talk about faith.

"And yet you're still here, you're sure you want to be with me and all you're asking is some time to get used to the idea of making love with me." Jack winked. "As if," he sneered, caressingly.

The smile was creeping back into Daniel's eyes. Unbelievably, Jack had said the right thing.

Who'd a thunk?

And who'd a thunk being cornered against a shabby office door by a USAF colonel would turn out to be even sexier than a lingering shared shower where the linguist was concerned? Decidedly hot and extremely bothered by Jack and Jack alone, Daniel was happy to prove for quite some time he was pretty darned sure about the necking part, at least.

Jack was profoundly glad to know it.

Fascinated, Daniel watched the flickering black and white movie intently. Catherine's Ernest seemed incredibly young to him, almost childlike in his awe and excitement at the Stargate. "He's like an amateur," he commented, intrigued.

"Hmm?" Jack muttered a vague enquiry. He was past all pretence of watching the forties footage and was just enjoying the hell out of watching Daniel watch the footage. "Didn't I say you'd be more comfortable at home?" he reminded him complacently.

"Sorry? Oh. Yes." Daniel shot him an impatient look. "Dr. Littlefield - Ernest. Look at him." Daniel pointed at the screen as Ernest argued excitedly with a stern older man, Catherine's father, Dr. Langford. "That level of enthusiasm usually gets stamped out of kids in first grade."

"Despite the best efforts of the education system, the odd enthusiast slips through," Jack observed in amusement, looking right at the enthusiast in question, who was barefoot, rumpled, and sickeningly cute in his baggy old navy sweats and a T-shirt with Woodstock on it. The Woodstock who came with Snoopy, that was. Jack was seriously starting to adore Daniel.

"If there's nothing on the footage, nothing top secret, I mean," Daniel murmured, his voice rising persuasively as his big baby blues beseeched.

Jack crossed his arms over his chest, patiently waiting for his sure and certain fate to befall him.

"Could we give the DVDs to Catherine?"

"No."

"Jack!"

Jack unilaterally decided the linguist was up past his bed time, wrestled the DVD remote out of his hand and switched it off, followed by the TV. He extracted Daniel from the couch and led him, protesting, out of the living room and up the stairs. "Why don't you get out of your clothes and onto the bed?" he suggested mildly.

Daniel's tirade about what was best for Catherine as opposed to what was convenient for Jack the Jerk O'Neill was cut off mid-word.

"I have to massage your whole body," Jack explained meekly. "Particularly the sartorius muscle. It runs from here." Jack tapped politely. "To here." He traced a line with his finger in a slow curve around from Daniel's hip to the centre of his thigh. "Then down to here." He slid that finger slowly, caressingly down Daniel's thigh to his knee. "Lots of knots," he said gravely. Daniel went very red and looked very confused. "Caused by lack of oxygen in the deep muscle tissue."

Jack led Daniel as far as the bathroom without him apparently thinking of a single word to say, then scooted him on his way with a gentle smack on his jersey-clad rump. "Bed," Jack ordered sternly. Daniel stalked away, rigid with indignation. "My bed," Jack added, chuckling as something very rude and foreign-sounding was sneered at him. Daniel completely ignored this instruction, marching in through his own open bedroom door.

In the bathroom, Jack grabbed the apricot massage oil from the medicine cabinet, and after a few moments of mature consideration, decided to shed a few extraneous clothes and cut down his commute time to the laundry basket. Then he picked up some clean towels to wrap Daniel in. It was important for him to relax to get the best benefit from the massage; keeping him warm and secure would help. Daniel was modest. It was just one of those things. It was going to take Daniel some time to realise the massage wasn't sexual.

Though it could be. If things between kept on getting better between them, Jack very much hoped it would be.

He felt like a kid again when he swaggered back into Daniel's bedroom, double-dog daring Daniel to make something of it. Jack wasn't naked. Not completely. He waved the apricot oil. Daniel emitted a noise through his clenched teeth that sounded a lot like a growl, rumbling low and threateningly in his throat. Jack seconded it. He was not the only one who was not naked. "Hey! There's a rhythm and flow to a good massage, you know."

Daniel directed a look of mildly sceptical enquiry at him.

"It unleashes powerful emotions."

Daniel's scepticism segued into dark suspicion.

"Forging a deep bond between the massaging and the massaged."

Daniel went for hostility.

Jack didn't even attempt to ask Daniel to lie down, he simply crouched where Daniel could see him. "Don't be nervous," he told him quietly, getting serious. He wished now he hadn't teased so much. He'd put Daniel thoroughly on edge.

"I'm not," Daniel denied coldly, desperately trying to ignore Jack's seductive heat and hardness right in front of him, and the responsive stirring of his body.

"Brace your arm," Jack instructed as he loosened the fastenings of the sling, letting Daniel ease free of it. "Don't try to move your arm, okay? Just hold it with your good one and leave the rest to me."

"I'm not sure I want..." Daniel whispered uncertainly, not finishing his sentence.

"I took classes," Jack said quietly, walking around to the other side of the bed to lay down the largest towel ready for Daniel to lie on. Then he took one of the pillows and placed it towards the foot of the bed, aware Daniel was watching him warily. It hurt to remember he'd learned all this stuff for Sara, when she was carrying Charlie and would cry with the constant pain in her back, but he put the thought away from him and focused on Daniel. "There really is a right way to do this, Daniel. We start with effleurage. Stroking. It warms your body and connects us. Then petrissage to work the deep muscular tissue."

He knew what Daniel was scared of was getting aroused. He was afraid of the effect Jack's touch had on him. "It's not about sex," Jack promised, walking back around to crouch again in front of Daniel. "You keep the towel where you're comfortable. Trust me, okay?" He asked this straight out, no bull. "Please, Daniel. Just trust me."

After a moment, Daniel took his outstretched hand. Jack helped him up, then led him around to the other side of the bed. He helped Daniel strip, thinking how ironic it was he'd seen Daniel like this before they'd truly kissed. Daniel's dependence was bringing them closer together in ways Jack hadn't considered when he'd brought Daniel home with him from the hospital. Their intimacy was enforced by circumstance, but the two of them were deepening it day by day.

Daniel lay down carefully, getting settled on his good side before he rolled slowly onto his stomach, ignoring the sharp stabs from his ribs until he was as comfortable as he was going to get. Jack laid a large towel over his shoulders and back, then another over his butt and legs.

"Okay?" Jack asked as he slid the pillow under Daniel's feet.

"Not really," Daniel said uncomfortably, trying to breathe shallowly. After a moment, Jack urged him to slip his hands under the pillow his face was buried in. Daniel took it slowly, getting his left arm just about level with the right when the burn in his sore shoulder joint told him this was it. "Best I can do!" he gasped.

The bed shifted and Jack knelt beside him, resting his hands across Daniel's left leg as he took some deep, slow breaths. Then he folded the towel up towards Daniel's butt.

"I don't know how much pressure feels good for you," Jack told him pleasantly. "If you need me to be firmer or gentler, just say. I can't touch the swollen areas at all, but I can work the muscles around them."

"Um - okay," Daniel said doubtfully. The scent of apricots filled the room and he sighed worriedly into his pillow.

The palms of both Jack's hands cupped his calf muscle then stroked with firm pressure up to his knee, gliding back down the sides of his calf to where they'd started.

"Um - gentler."

"Like this?" Jack asked, his voice warm and friendly. He repeated the slow stroking, easing the pressure this time.

"Mm-hm."

"I keep doing this until the muscles begin to soften," Jack said quietly. He repeated the same process again on the left leg, then the right, this time slowly stroking down with one hand then the other, his fingers outspread. Daniel wasn't exactly melting into a puddle of goo, but some of the tension was easing from his body. Jack sensed this had as much to do with the way he kept covering Daniel up with the towel as it did with his magic fingers. He kept up the effleurage on each leg until Daniel's muscles softened, hoping it wouldn't take so long next time.

"Petrissage now," he warned Daniel as he oiled his calf and made with some gentle friction, working each thumb into the muscle. Then he picked up the calf and squeezed it, careful to use his whole hand. Rolling was followed by wringing, then he moved onto the other leg.

"Jack?"

"Hmm?"

"That feels good," Daniel informed him, unflatteringly surprised.

"This is going to feel better," Jack warned him, twitching the towel down to keep Daniel's calves warm while he began working on his thighs. He applied some more oil and prepared for effleurage.

"Oh!" Daniel yelped as Jack's palms slid lightly over the back of his knee and up his thigh, the pressure increasing. He tensed involuntarily, his face flaming.

"Sexual response is completely natural," Jack said matter-of-factly. "The body processes the stimulation of muscle as pleasure and responds appropriately. Massage can be deeply arousing."

"Oh," Daniel commented intelligently.

"That's not the intent, though," Jack promised. "I won't freak if you get a hard-on and neither should you."

That, thought Daniel somewhat tartly, is easy for you to say!

Jack's palms delicately skimmed down Daniel's thigh, then stroked back up again. He repeated the process, his touch sure but not lingering, then switched his attention to Daniel's other thigh and began again.

Daniel managed to keep still while Jack stroked him, noting Jack didn't touch the stark print of the boot that had smashed into his leg at some point he still didn't remember.

"I have to keep stroking until the muscles relax, Daniel," Jack reminded him reassuringly as the stroking went on and on.

"I'm relaxed," Daniel lied into the pillow. There was stroking. And stroking. And more… It felt - it was - "Ooooh."

Jack didn't bother to hide his smile. Daniel wasn't relaxed; he was quivering. What the boy was going to do when Jack was kneading his ass was anybody's guess.

"Ice pack," Jack's voice announced, then Jack hung up on Daniel.

Daniel slammed the phone down. Then he glared at Sam, who was sitting on his lab bench idly swinging her legs.

"I didn't say a word," she protested, grinning, her eyes dwelling expectantly on the door.

Sergeant Keely marched in, on time to the minute, and handed Daniel his ice pack. "Dr. Jackson."

"Thank you," Daniel responded with as much politeness as he could muster. "A month," he complained as soon as he and Sam were alone. "Four whole weeks. This," he brandished the ice pack, "was a pain in the ass when I had to do it at home. Having to drop everything and do it here on base is adding insult to injury. Literally!" He looked at Sam. She looked mildly back. "You don't care, do you?"

Sam shrugged.

"I missed one – one! - cold application treatment and Jack hauled me off to the Infirmary by the scruff of the neck. Dr. Fraiser agreed the treatments were beneficial and I should continue them. I do not think she meant permanently!"

Daniel sat in his chair, definitely moving more smoothly than he had been, which reminded him...

"If I don't turn up to the gym on time, Kawalsky and Ferretti come down here and fetch me! Just so they can make me do my clock-wise pendulum swings and my counter-clockwise pendulum swings. Sawing swings. Cross-body swings. Shoulder shrugs. Not to mention the goddamned isometrics!"

Sam failed to be suitably indignant on his behalf.

"Ferretti counts the repetitions and Charlie Kawalsky ticks them off on his clipboard," Daniel denounced his friends bitterly, shoving the ice pack up his T-shirt sleeve, wriggling until it was where it was supposed to be. "I have to sit here for twenty minutes. If I answer the phone before the twenty minutes are up, it'll be Jack, calling to tell me to get my ass back in this chair and the ice pack back on my shoulder."

"How are you feeling?" Sam asked gently, her eyes gleaming.

"Much better, thank you," Daniel said sunnily. He waved his right arm in evidence. "The point is, don't they have anything better to do than make sure my ice pack is where it's supposed to be five times a day?"

"No!" Sam snapped, overreacting badly to his innocent comment and then deflating where she sat. It was hardly Daniel's fault she couldn't get the Stargate working again. He'd done his part. She made a quick 'sorry' face at Daniel.

"No," Daniel sighed, slumping.

"Over a hundred million combinations."

"I'm right about the Stargate."

Sam jumped down from the lab bench and paced back and forth in front of it, looking pissy. "I know," she said tightly. "I just can't make it work. I have to know how much stellar drift to compensate for, Daniel. It's the only way. If we can't figure out how old the Stargate is, we're screwed."

She stopped pacing and looked at Daniel thoughtfully.

"The budget isn't limitless, Daniel. As far as the Pentagon is concerned, the Stargate served a limited purpose, which was to create a stable wormhole between Earth and Ra's planet. It represented a potential threat to Earth's security. That threat was eliminated. Ergo, the Stargate has served its purpose and the bean-counters won't keep underwriting Project Blue Book on your say-so or mine. My only opportunity to study a real wormhole is so close I can reach out and touch it and I can't make the Stargate work," Sam said bitterly. "You know how frustrating that is." It wasn't a question.

"I'm certain," Daniel said quietly. He did understand. Sam had said several times now at least he'd got proof of his theories, an answer to the studies of half his life. He knew exactly what she was going through.

"Seven billion dollars worth of certain?" Sam demanded.

Daniel nodded solemnly.

Sam handed him a DVD. "Keep looking," she advised him flatly. "We're running out of time."

"Don't you think you're becoming a tad obsessive?" Jack asked neutrally, dropping onto the couch next to Daniel, who was watching another of his interminable flickery old movies.

"We don't have any scientific methodology to establish the age of the Stargate," Daniel retorted. "We've tried every form of dating known to man, which is my point exactly. The mineral - whatever it is - the Stargate is made of isn't known to man. Even the luminescence testing was inconclusive." He stopped the movie and turned to face Jack, swinging his legs up onto the couch to hug his knees. "It's frustrating as hell, Jack," he sighed. "I'm reviewing the Langford-Littlefield project evidence in my personal time because I'm desperately trying to find any kind of reference to the Stargate in the body of historical evidence. The timescale is defeating me. Ra was overthrown and expelled five thousand years before my peers even accept the earliest writing systems existed. If I had found incontrovertible proof?"

"You wouldn't have been laughed off the dais at your last lecture?" Jack asked rhetorically. He swung his legs up on the couch too, stretching them out, feet comfortably crossed at the ankle. "Being right and being able to prove you're right are two entirely different things."

Daniel good-naturedly hunched over, making room for him. "That doesn't really matter now. The work is here." He slid his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I've exhausted every known reference, Jack."

"You're exhausting yourself," Jack contradicted sharply.

"I'm used to the workload," Daniel commented idly. "Now that I know about the Stargate, I've found references to it in the mythology."

"That helps us - how?"

"It doesn't," Daniel said, surprised. "All the references are within the existing time scale of ten thousand years. They're clearly a bastardisation of history passed down through the oral tradition."

"Then why bring them up?" Jack asked reasonably. He chuckled when Daniel scowled at him.

"I'm broadening the search," Daniel responded with dignity. "Looking for references to what might have been Ra's species. "

"He was the last of his species. You said so," Jack reminded him.

"History is usually written by the winning side," Daniel said dryly, "which is why archaeology is a science, not one of the arts. Ra claimed to have been the last of his species. It wouldn't be the first time he'd lied."

"Don't even go there!"

"I already did. You know I mooted this theory to General Hammond during our private meeting after that first briefing. You were there," Daniel reminded him. "Just listen, Jack, please." He squeezed Jack's knee gently. "‘The roaring tempest drives him, it roars like Seth. The guardians of Heaven's parts open the doors of Heaven for him. Dawning as a falcon, he reaches the celestial realm of Ra on the Imperishable Star and is placed on the throne of Osiris. His lifetime is eternity, its limit everlastingness.’ "

"That's from an inscription I translated in the pyramid of King Pepi, who died circa 2255BC, Jack," he said soberly. "It's a clear reference to the Stargate, the wormhole, the alien planet, even Ra's sarcophagus. Did you know the Egyptians always depicted their Sun Gods with blue eyes to denote the race they came from? Blue eyes? Glowing eyes? Sound familiar? The race of the Gods, the obsession with ascension into the heavens to rejoin Ra - it all fits."

Daniel swung himself up to kneel closer to Jack. "It's possible that much of what we think of as mythology is in fact history," he earnestly explained, "distorted by the passage of time and the oral tradition. The pantheon of gods may in fact represent other members of Ra's species. They were here, Jack. I feel it. I just can't prove it." Frustrated, Daniel sat back on his heels. "So much in myth is explained by accepting that theory. It has a certain elegant logic."

"Sounds like you're scraping the bottom of the fairytale barrel to me," Jack said unkindly. He got a reluctant nod from Daniel.

"Between us, Sam and I can make the Stargate work." Daniel rubbed his eyes tiredly. "We just need to know how old it is. Maybe not even that - Sam is testing each of the finite combination of symbols using those we've established for Ra's planet as a base. If we could connect to one other Stargate, Sam could computer model a protocol for the dialling program that would calculate and factor in Doppler Shift with a - "

Jack kissed him, a swift, hard, closed-mouth kiss.

Daniel sat back on his heels, touching his fingers to his lips.

"Now that I've got your attention, it's time for your massage."

"I need to just watch this one last reel."

"Now, Daniel," Jack insisted, jumping up.

"But," Daniel protested as Jack plucked him from the couch. "You can't resist the urge to get physical, can you?" he snapped as Jack got behind him and pushed him along, managing to touch quite a lot of him.

"No," Jack said happily.

"I'm trying to talk to you!"

"So talk!" Jack advised him cheerfully as he steered him up the stairs.

"Did we do the right thing on Ra's world?"

Jack let go of him abruptly. "Way to kill the mood, Daniel," he complained sourly.

Daniel turned impulsively to face him. "We acted in the best interests of the people."

Jack shifted uncomfortably. That was part of it, for sure.

"But not necessarily ours. I'm glad we asked Kasuf to bury the Stargate, Jack," Daniel confessed, glancing up at him seriously. "We have no way to know what information Ra possessed about the Stargate, about wormhole physics or about the possibility of a network of gates. I'm glad I don't have to face making a choice about what is worth more, the Stargate or those people." Stepping closer, Daniel sighed heavily.

"The Air Force would say the Stargate, Daniel, right down the line," Jack promised Daniel honestly enough. Daniel didn't seem aware of the hand he had resting against Jack's belly. "What we as individuals would choose, we don't have that luxury. The President and the Chief of Staff would make the decision. My job is to carry out their orders."

Daniel wrinkled his brow. "You're lousy at following orders."

"You make that sound like a good thing," Jack grumbled, a grin tugging at his lips. "You can't leave it alone," he reminded Daniel smugly.

Daniel nodded reluctantly.

"It would have killed you not to get your ass back through the gate to look at stuff." Jack gently nudged Daniel round to face the other way, using his preoccupation to slip an arm around his waist.

"I know," Daniel agreed reluctantly, his frown deepening. "I wouldn't have risked Sha'uri and the others."

If the slightly anxious look in Daniel's eyes was anything to go by, it seemed important to him Jack believe him.

Jack believed Daniel didn't have a selfish bone in his body. He also believed Daniel would always do what he thought was right, whatever the cost to him. They were in a difficult position right now. Maybe there were answers buried in the sands of Ra's world, maybe there weren't. Jack could only be glad they'd never know. He didn't want Daniel to lose any part of himself.

Hot, thirsty and groggy from too little sleep, Daniel was stumbling down the hallway in search of a cooling drink from the fridge when a soft, murmuring sigh drew him towards Jack's bedroom door, always ajar.

Easing into the gap, Daniel saw tumbled bedclothes, the quilt trailing down over the floor, a large foot planted. Despite himself, he edged forward, his eyes tracing the lines of Jack's long, powerful legs, sprawled gracelessly apart.

Heart pounding, he stared at the sleek, hard muscle packing Jack's lean, rangy body, gleaming with sweat in the moonlight shafting through the tilted blinds, his head shifting restlessly against the pillows as he languorously fucked his fisted hands, gripping and gliding expertly over his slick, straining cock.

Horrified by his inadvertent breach of Jack's privacy, Daniel began to back away as silently as he was able, only to freeze in place as Jack opened his eyes and smiled right at him.

"Daniel."

"Oh, God!" Daniel yelped, turning on his heel to bolt. He smacked solidly into the door, slamming it shut, scrabbled wildly for the door handle, finally got hold of it, managed to yank the door open. It banged his hip and was promptly slammed shut again. Gaping at Jack's hand, materialising in front of his appalled eyes to spread wide over the dark wood panelling, Daniel defensively huddled his good shoulder against the door. "I'm sorry!" he gasped, utterly mortified. "I'm so sorry!"

"I'm not!" Jack responded cockily. "I like being ogled."

"Ogled?" Daniel's voice rose, swallowed in another yelp as Jack kissed the nape of his neck.

The hand on the door was moving, reaching for his shoulder, turning him gently, inexorably, to face Jack.

At least, this was Jack's intent.

Daniel's body was having nothing to do with it. Shoulder-blades carving into the door, he didn't know where to look, finally fixing on a particularly repugnant watercolour print of a pike parked on the wall between the window and the bed.

As if he could be aware of anything but the man in front of him.

He felt desperate.

"I'm having a heart-attack," he announced, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

Inquisitive fingers came to rest over his heart. He quivered.

For weeks now, Daniel had been carefully avoiding thinking about how very good it was to have Jack touch him. How very much he wanted it. His body had hurt like hell, too much for him to feel arousal, at least at first.

Jack's touch had become electric, shocking through him. His body sang. He wanted Jack to touch him more and more.

It was the way Jack would stroke his belly. Jack's hands honestly never lingered, he never seemed to notice Daniel's quickening breath or the swelling bulge beneath the towel slung across his hips. He would simply still Daniel's sudden restless shifting, warning him he needed to be relaxed, his muscles soft for the massage to work, then he would stroke and stroke. Daniel would lie there with his eyes tightly closed, wanting Jack's hand to slip lower, to stroke over and over his cock that way, Jack taking his time, his fingers sure and steady.

Why had he never imagined Sarah's hand on him? Sarah's mouth? He'd never looked for what Sarah had called 'human contact'. He'd never needed it. He hadn't looked for Sarah; she'd found him. Sha'uri had found him too, had been given to him. He would never know what choice she had in the matter, he could only know his part.

He'd never thought of her the way he thought of Jack, never realised her as a sexual being in his infatuation, nor himself.

Daniel was content as a loner but another label fit him now. His sexuality was no longer an abstract but a reality.

Jack was holding him, his shoulders, a cheek against his, stubble chafing. Letting him know Jack was with him, Jack was good with what was happening between them here. Waiting with him while he calmed down. They both knew he would, with Jack's hands on him. Daniel trusted the touch that made him feel so alive.

He wanted Jack to touch him now. His body wanted, overwhelming his mind. He was all want. And fear.

"Can't you kiss me?" Jack murmured, his lips on Daniel's skin.

Daniel turned, wrapping clumsy arms around Jack's neck. He thought Jack's eyes were wild as he kissed him. The embrace was difficult, Daniel's injured arm aching too much to hold where it was. Dropping down, he found Jack's spine, the breadth of him, the small of his back, sweat. He went in his mind to Jack sprawled on the bed, moonlight on his skin, his eyes on Jack and now his hands, running over his back, pulling him closer.

There was so much happening, so much feeling, Daniel could hardly separate one sensation from another. Pain spiked in his chest, he struggled to breathe, to keep it together, wanting Jack everywhere on him, at once.

They broke apart, panting noisily, and only now did Jack mumble reassurance and promises to Daniel between nuzzling, whiskery kisses. Watching Daniel's face, Jack pressed closer to him, his cock hot against Daniel's belly as they touched hip to hip. Daniel almost couldn't bear to look as Jack purred over the heavy bulge he found between his legs.

It was too much feeling. How could they move one another so much?

"It's okay," Jack promised again, watching Daniel's confusion and excitement as he struggled to process the effect Jack had on him, the effect he had on Jack.

Fantasy for Jack was smooth, golden, pliant. A pure, guilty pleasure. Jack could get hard thinking of his body moving over Daniel's, inside Daniel's, imagining long legs wrapped around his, or braced to move Daniel against him. He'd seen and admired Daniel naked, thought of him with warm water sliding over his perfect body again and again. He craved the creamy skin, the quiet strength, exotically lean muscle, in proportion with Daniel's almost delicate bone structure.

Reality was frightened and awkward, resentful, even, in his inexperience, forgiving and sweet.

"You think too much," he said roughly, pulling Daniel into another kiss. Daniel stopped him, bracing his good hand against Jack's shoulder to hold him back.

"I think…" Staring at Jack, searching his eyes, Daniel seemed to be fighting instinctive shyness, reaching out, his fingers clenching on nothing for a moment, then steadying, slipping gently up Jack's cheek. "I'm tired of fighting." Daniel tilted his face, leaning in slowly. Their mouths touched again, moving over one another gently, tasting, touching firm, sensitively yielding smoothness for a few seconds more, then they parted again. "I never said thank you," Daniel sighed.

"For?" Jack was tensing up, suspecting the caress was a prelude to Daniel running out on him, a consolation prize.

"For taking care of me."

Jack almost, almost screwed it up, a flip answer on the tip of his tongue. Only the confiding gravity in Daniel's eyes made him blurt out the truth. "It's my pleasure." He loved to do it, any and every thing Daniel allowed him to do for him. He wanted more. There were holes in his life he could never fill, dark, empty spaces that hurt, made him want Daniel desperately.

"Jack." Daniel said his name as if he really meant it, trembling with his acceptance of how very much Jack meant to him.

It was a sound Jack knew.

His smile was ear to ear when Daniel kissed him for the second time. He touched his tongue to Daniel's, drew him inside. Walking on air, Jack was playful and teasing in his triumph, pulling away only to lure Daniel to him. He snorted when Daniel pushed into him, knocking him back an emphatic step. Daniel clasped the back of his head, angling their mouths to suit him. Jack rewarded this show of initiative, stroking tips of tongues. Daniel wanted more, he wanted Jack's lips on his, pushing again to get him. Careful of his healing injuries, Jack gave way.

He gave Daniel a nice kiss, took him into his mouth, hot, slippery, endearingly eager. Encouraging this exploration every way he could, Jack sucked on Daniel's tongue. Making a sexy little whimpering sound, Daniel arched like an astonished cat and tried to climb inside him.

Grappling happily with Daniel's weight as well as his own, the backs of Jack's legs hit the bed and he lost his battle with gravity. Daniel landed on him with an astonished 'oof'. Sweet but slow, he had little idea what was happening as Jack pulled him completely onto the bed and rolled him neatly into a pleasing tangle of legs in the middle of it. Lying chastely beside him, Jack promptly picked up the kiss where they'd left off. Daniel gratifyingly whimpered again and plastered himself to Jack.

They kissed for a long time, soft, heated, sexy kisses, Jack rubbing Daniel's back and shoulders, trying to be patient and careful, to let Daniel set the pace for them both. It took every scrap of control he possessed to hold back while Daniel drove him out of his mind, delicately exploring every molecule of skin on his back and his shoulders, his arms, ribs, chest, belly, hip and thigh…

Jack took control then, pushing away from Daniel so he could tug up the enveloping Woodstock T-shirt. They looked at each other as Jack slid the T-shirt up, waiting for Daniel to do or say something. Whether they went on or stopped was his decision alone. It had to be, the first time. Jack was holding his breath when Daniel sat up, raising his arms, helping to lift the T-shirt clear. Then he didn't know where to put his hands, first fidgeting with the sheet and the tumbled quilt either side of him, then putting them on his thighs, rubbing nervously.

He didn't know what to do with Jack looking at him.

"Lie down." Jack urged him gently back down to the bed, never breaking eye contact as he reached for the waistband of Daniel's pyjamas and pulled them slowly down. It was Daniel who looked away, staring up at the ceiling as he obediently lifted his butt off the bed so Jack could ease the pyjamas clear of his hips. He gulped noisily as his cock sprang free and closed his eyes. "Don't!" Jack begged as Daniel's shyness won out. "Let me see you."

"You can see everything," Daniel argued as the warm flannel slid below his knees, down, down, over his feet and gone.

"Let me see you," Jack insisted, lying down again beside Daniel.

"This feels sooo…" Daniel trailed off in confusion.

"It's your first time," Jack said gently. "And ours. It can be whatever you want."

He put his hand low on Daniel's belly, rubbing lazily there, waiting for the hitch in Daniel's breath, the restless shift of his hips, before he kissed him. Jack rubbed and rubbed with fingers, lips and tongue, until Daniel sweated and shivered, and Jack owned his cock.

"What can I do for you?" he whispered. "Show me."

Daniel took his wrist in trembling fingers, drew his hand down to his cock. The sound Daniel made, the helpless arch of his hips when Jack's fingers closed around him, filled Jack with primal satisfaction. He was the first, the one who would change Daniel by being with him, being inside him.

"What do you want?" Jack asked, insistent.

"I want you," Daniel promised passionately, trembling violently under Jack's hand.

Daniel opened his eyes then and kissed Jack, afraid he was showing everything he felt. He was useless, squirming, clinging to Jack's broad shoulders with fists clenched, making these stupid, stifled noises, a tremor in his thighs, in his back, his belly. All from Jack's hand, hard on him where he needed it to be.

Jack's weight shifted, drawing Daniel onto his side with him, belly to belly, thigh to thigh. Every part of them touching. Then Jack pushed closer, his hands on Daniel's hips, his cock sliding over Daniel's cock, rubbing, rubbing, belly, cock and thigh. Daniel groaned and shook all over, shook all through, coming and coming in spurts on Jack's thighs.

Jack crushed Daniel to him, humping his softening cock while Daniel rubbed his back and kissed him, still shaking, wishing he could make this better for him. Tentative, unsure of his limits and Jack's, he touched Jack's ass, marvelling at the pull of muscle beneath his fingers, then his hand was taken, wedged between them. Jack shuddered when Daniel held his cock and came there in his hand.

It seemed fitting to Daniel the first time he'd touched anyone this way would have such an effect, moving Jack as much as it moved him. Jack's kisses were hard and deep but he held Daniel gently to him, petting him.

Their heartbeats slowed, breathing steadied, sweat and semen cooled and dried on their skin and still they kissed, holding onto one another. Exhausted at last, they lay quiet.

Jack's smile was blinding.

Daniel had never been so unsure.

"Do you want me to go?" he asked, steadily enough, he thought, although he was looking away from Jack and from what Jack might want now they were done.

Jack rolled over, dropped his shoulders down over the edge of the bed and emerged with the corner of the rumpled quilt in his hand. He dragged it up from the floor, gathered the folds, tossed it over Daniel, smoothed it haphazardly around them, then lay back down and pulled him rather closer. "Don't even try," he growled threateningly, settling himself comfortably. "Doing okay?" he asked, smoothing the sweaty hair back from Daniel's brow.

"I – I'm good."

"I didn't hurt you?" Feather-touches skimmed Daniel's shoulders, ribs. "I know you need to sleep on the other shoulder."

Taking this as a hint to leave Jack alone now, Daniel turned stiffly over onto his left side, his back to him. He felt a lot better when Jack immediately spooned up behind him, reaching around to hug him in close. Hopeful now, Daniel glanced behind him, found Jack smiling sleepily and kissed him. Then he put his hand over Jack's, knowing he'd never be able to sleep like this but happy to have him near. Happy to be welcome.

"You make me crazy," Jack murmured contentedly. He made this sound a good thing.

"I don't do it on purpose," Daniel defended himself, flustered. "I don't know what I'm doing. I mean – I…"

"Daniel…"

"I don't know what I mean."

"Daniel."

"I don't know anything."

"Da--"

"I've never done this."

"Wha--"

"This!" Daniel shook Jack's hand in evidence, wrestling a bit as Jack's fingers slid warmly between his.

"Slept with someone?"

"Yes! No!"

"Or slept with someone?"

"What?"

"I've been waiting to make love to you for a long time," Jack explained. "I've waited as patiently as I could." There was a suggestion of gritted teeth to this. "It almost killed me, touching you every day but not being allowed to touch. Now my patience is absolutely exhausted and I doubt I can even wait until you wake up in the morning to make love to you again."

"Oh."

"I loved that this was your first time. I'm thrilled you didn't spit in my eye and run out the door when you had the chance. I'm horny as hell and I'm ecstatic you're horny too."

"You're sarcastic," Daniel complained, blushing.

"I'm happy you're in bed with me. I won't care if you hog the duvet, snore like a buzz-saw or fart on me, because in the morning, you'll be right here when I want to get it on with you and I won't have to go and get into your bed to take care of the morning hard-on."

"Whose?"

"Go to sleep, Daniel." Jack kissed his shoulder.

"Jack?"

"Mmm?"

"I don't want to think anymore."

"Don't worry about it, Daniel." Jack squeezed his fingers. "Don't."

Jack kissed him then, with breathtaking tenderness.

Daniel might be slow at all this, all of it, but he got the message. Jack wasn't letting go.

When Daniel opened his eyes, he shot a look of utter betrayal at the sunshine striping the room. Morning. When did that happen?

Jack.

Jack was happening.

A hot, knowing hand was skimming over his hip and down.

Daniel moaned as his cock filled and his nipples hardened. He moaned again when a second hand joined the first. Then Jack swallowed his moans with a kiss and there was only silence, the heat of the sun on his skin and Jack's hands on his cock, rubbing, rubbing. Shivering pleasure in slow, easy waves making his head spin.

Jack could do anything Daniel wanted.

Jack was noted for his keen tactical mind and impeccable timing. He left a dazed Daniel in bed attempting to recover from the morning's first orgasm and a thorough kissing while he showered, brushed his teeth, threw on a pair of jeans and got the coffee going.

When he heard the shower, he doubled back to his room, dug out a gift he'd been hiding from Daniel in search of the appropriate occasion to spring it on him, spread it out on his bed, then headed for the kitchen and the makings of a hearty breakfast. With Jack's plans for the day, Daniel was going to need all his strength.

The bacon was crisp, the eggs scrambled, the toast buttery, the juice fresh and the coffee steaming when Daniel marched into the kitchen.

"Property of the USAF?" he demanded dangerously, tapping a bare foot in temper.

Jack beamed at him, lovingly smoothing the new T-shirt over his tense shoulders. "Isn't it great?" Daniel was even cuter in this than he was in the Woodstock one.

"No."

"Then why are you wearing it?"

"It's easier to be mad at you than to be – to be…" Blushing furiously, Daniel squirmed under Jack's hands, looking utterly defenceless.

Jack gave him a kiss, to which he objected half-heartedly, then made him sit down and eat breakfast. He had been planning to sit opposite, play footsie and generally tease the shit out of Daniel, but he shoved his plate across to the end of the kitchen table and sat there instead, wanting to be closer to him. "Maybe I should get you a brandy," Jack remarked, watching Daniel clutch his coffee-cup like a lifeline. "It's good for shock."

Daniel looked around at Jack, melting him completely when he put a timid hand on top of his. He did this with about the same ease as Jack would have put his hand into hot coals.

"You're always in the way." Daniel frowned over this. "In my way. I can't think when you…" He smiled suddenly, blisteringly sweet. "When you do anything."

There were a hundred things Jack could say to this, glib come-backs, flip remarks about the itch Daniel could scratch. A hundred things. Only, Daniel was trusting him and this was hard, he could see this was really hard for Daniel to get out. Because Daniel had always lived so much inside his own head, in his imagination, he meant a lot more by this than he was capable of saying. And because Jack loved him, he decided not to be glib or flip or obvious.

"That's good, Daniel," he said tranquilly. "That's good to know." He turned his hand in Daniel's, took the risk and told the truth. "Maybe what I should say to you is I never wonder what would've happened if I'd never met you. Because I know."

The expression Jack looked for, the feelings he needed from Daniel...they were here for him. Always here. Love for him, limitless empathy and the complicated, clear-sighted acceptance that had hooked him from the start.

"Sara would be a widow now. She would've buried us both," he said flatly. "I made my choice, Daniel. It brought me here." He squeezed Daniel's hand, let him go. "I have you. I can't regret that."

"I've never had anyone," Daniel confided. "Sarah wanted me, or I wouldn't have disappointed her as much as I did. Sha'uri...I had a wall up against them, against anyone, I think, and I hardly even knew it. I didn't care enough to know it." He thought about this, unflinching. "There's only you."

His face was wry as he pushed away from the table and went to get more coffee. His empty mug was in his hand but he only stared at the coffee pot. He let Jack take the mug from him, let himself be backed up against the counter. Comfortable for the first time with proximity, he only rubbed the arms Jack rested either side of his waist.

"Sarah used to joke about it. 'A little human contact,' she would say before she kissed me." He glanced up fleetingly, his eyes pained. "I had no idea what she wanted from me."

Jack couldn't just stand there and watch Daniel getting upset. He moved closer, put his head on Daniel's shoulder. Daniel hesitated, then he sighed and put his head on Jack's shoulder, leaning gratefully into him.

"You're the only one who makes sense to me," Daniel said tiredly. "I'm sorry." He put his arms around Jack. "I'm just trying to make sense of who I am."

"And why I get in the way?" Jack risked teasing, just a little. Daniel moved his hips against Jack's, let him feel the soft swell of a just-starting erection.

"That's what you do to me."

"You want to go back to bed with me?" Jack interpreted. He felt Daniel nod against his shoulder. "Best way I know to show you it's really, really okay to want sex, to want sex badly, is to have sex."

"I have to work," Daniel protested feebly as Jack led him from the kitchen.

"It's Sunday."

"No, I mean I want to work." Daniel wanted to be able to focus. He wanted to prove to himself he still had some measure of control and concentration.

"You want me more," Jack countered, pushing open his bedroom door.

Daniel was very afraid this was true. He let Jack get him on the bed and lie on top of him, and all he did was put his arms around him again.

"Let's talk about sex." Jack tried to be as non-threatening as possible. "What you know and what you want."

"You."

"Sweet," Jack greeted this approvingly. "Can you be more specific? You want my hand? My mouth?"

"Mouth?" Daniel stared at Jack's mouth. "Kissing." He raised his hands to clasp the back of Jack's head and drew him down, smiling a little as he brought their mouths together. Jack was smiling too, even his eyes.

"Daniel?" Tell me, okay?" Jack urged him. "What do you want?"

"I want to know who I am," Daniel said clearly.

Jack looked at him thoughtfully, the hint of both a smile and a frown on his face. "In my experience, that's not something you can work out in bed."

"It's part of it," Daniel argued. "It has to be, when it's, you know..." He coughed nervously. "New," he said distantly, frowning at the ceiling. "I'm open," he added decidedly. "That's all I'm saying."

"Noted," Jack said gravely, the smile suspiciously pronounced.

"You're not arguing?"

"You're not a kid," Jack explained laconically, shrugging. "I actually do trust you to make these decisions, you know."

"This is news to me," Daniel responded politely.

"Plus," Jack's dark eyes gleamed wickedly. "I want you. Any way I can get you."

"Were you ready to cross this line?" Daniel asked impulsively, sliding coaxing fingers over Jack's shoulders. "Maybe I'm naïve..." He ignored Jack's stifled snort. "If we've made love, there's no way back for you, is there? Your marriage really is..."

"Over?" Jack interrupted, a trifle sarcastically it had to be said. "Thank god," he sighed gustily. "Finally, we're on the same page."

"Maybe I would have got here sooner, wouldn't have fought you so hard if you hadn't tied me in all these knots," Daniel retorted. "You dragged me back here, you have me working for you, living with you. Now I'm sleeping with you and it's exactly what you wanted all along."

"Not all along," Jack contradicted, another attempt at straight-forward honesty.

"Irrelevant, I think," Daniel confessed candidly. "You brought me back here for you, for your sake, not mine. Sex is just the bonus."

"You're not mad about it," Jack observed frankly, intrigued by the unexpectedness of this reaction.

"I guess not." Daniel slipped his fingers into Jack's hair, idly tufting out the short strands. "I should be," he said reprovingly. "God knows you deserve it."

"I know I deserve it too," Jack admitted, his quick grin cocky. Then he got serious. "I wasn't thinking that clearly, Daniel. Not at the time. I only knew I was alive when I shouldn't be, when I'd chosen..." He broke off, struggling with it. "You know what I did," he muttered awkwardly. "You know why."

Daniel softly cupped the back of Jack's head. He knew.

"You were part of that," Jack promised him earnestly. "I can't explain it, except maybe to say it wasn't so calculated as you think. I only know it wasn't possible to leave you behind."

"From the outside," Daniel said carefully. "Looking in..." Anyone would see a trap. Jack had to know it. "There have been times..." he mumbled in a stifled voice, dropping his eyes self-consciously. "Times that I..." He'd felt it.

"I know," Jack interrupted quickly, his face tight. "I know what it looks like. What I look like." He didn't offer up any kind of excuse. "The truth of it is..."

Daniel looked up enquiringly.

"I love you," Jack said with such clarity and certainty he left Daniel white-faced and gasping. "I wish I could be unselfish about it, but I'm not." He kissed Daniel hard, as if sealing a bargain, and then he kissed him slow, his mouth tender and smiling, making a promise.

"I feel the same," Daniel confided breathlessly, heat blazing in his chest, a pounding weight there. "The same." His belly jumped with a prickling coldness he also tasted in his mouth, his throat. Shock, he realised dimly. The shock of it all. Of having what he wanted. He tried to speak, to say the words back to Jack, and found he couldn't. He touched Jack's face instead, his fingers trembling when Jack softened, opening up to him.

"Dr. Jackson," Jack murmured caressingly when Daniel pulled him deeper, closer, tighter. "I know who you are."

Chapters:  | WEAT novel home | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 |

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