Jack leaned against a half-fallen wall that created an informal entrance to the ruins. Daniel was crouched in front of faded, colorful images depicting half-naked natives. Jack let his eyes linger on the oblivious archeologist, let them sweep over the slight curve of the muscular back and the firm ass. Then he fixed his eyes back on Daniel's relatively safe hands.
One-long fingered hand hovered above the wall, not quite touching it. Daniel's longing to run his fingers over the old stones was nearly palpable, but out of respect for their age he refrained. Those hands glided through the air, tracing the ancient words, and it was entirely too easy to imagine them gliding over something else. Jack bit back a groan as he mind supplied the feeling of those hands running down his sides. A certain part of his anatomy began to take notice.
Jack scowled, and raised his eyes to Daniel's face. Not any more work-safe, the colonel realized, as he conjured the image of those wonderfully full lips stretched around him. Jack may have growled then, which may have been why Daniel was actually looking at him, smirking, when his eyes met Daniel's. Or he may have finally clued in to Jack's hungry stare.
The archeologist's smirk grew as Jack shifted to a more comfortable position against the crumbling structure. Jack glowered back. Smile no less smug, Daniel returned his considerable attention to the wall in front of him.
Jack went back to camp, where Carter was making coffee. When she saw her superior's uncomfortable, irritated expression, combined with the direction he was coming from, she fought back a grin. "Something wrong, Sir?"
"No, Carter," he snapped, and stomped off in the opposite direction of the ruins.
Sam managed to hold back her mirth until Jack was out of range, and then erupted into giggles.