You know what the problem is with getting shot in the arm? You can't sleep without someone next to you. Now, for me, that's not much of a problem. Jack's guilt has driven him to never leave my side. Considering the size of my bed, it gets pretty crowded--at least until yesterday, when he put his foot down and said I'd be staying at his house until I'm better. No complaints here. I was sort of feeling bad nudging him over the edge and onto the floor every night.

Not that I have any issues with him shooting me, oh no.

So back to my problem. Normally Jack snuggles up to me so I don't roll over and hurt myself. Makes sense, right? We get snuggle time and I don't wake up cranky as hell because I jarred my arm. Well, guess what. I just rolled over…onto my injured arm. Woke me up with a start and a scream into my pillow cussing God in ways that would set the Bible aflame.

After the white shards dim from my vision, I push myself upright with difficulty and look around. It doesn't take me long to find Jack. Pretty obvious considering the closed bathroom door and retching sounds. I told him that Chinese food was too old to eat. Good thing I stuck with the old chili. Seemed the lesser of two evils at the time.

Great. Thinking about food has made me hungry. Of course. Well, it's not like midnight snacks are new. Have them all the time at the mountain. It's a secret Sam and I share, because if Jack knew…well, let's just say he isn't one to approve of peculiar eating habits.

Grunting softly, I manage to get out of the bed and shuffle my way to the door. The last thing I need is my sick lover rushing out to help me. I'm not an invalid. It's just my arm. Something he doesn't totally understand despite the fact that I still drive. Course, I don't have to, but it drives him nuts and let's face it, he has it coming.

Can't do it any more, either. Another foot he put down yesterday: he or an airman will drive me or I'll be locked up at the mountain. I suppose he's suffered enough. Besides, it's kinda nice being waited on hand and foot. I'm eating like a king on Jack's dollar.

Okay, maybe I have some issues, but I'm channeling them in a healthy way.

Opening the fridge, I squint at the contents. Lovers for four years and he still can't keep his fridge cleaned out. Chicken from last week, pizza a month old, Cantonese from--wait, didn't that place close six months ago? Maybe I'll call that airman of a chauffeur and have him help me clean this thing out. Or Janet. There might be a medical miracle in that stuff growing on the fruit.

Shutting the door, I start searching the cabinets. I could risk making a sandwich…no, I'd better just stick with Fruit Loops. Odd hour to be eating cereal, but it's probably the one thing mold won't go near because of the sugar content. I wince as I stretch to reach the box. Normally it's no big deal, but I'm not as flexible as I usually am. Sometimes I resent Jack having longer arms than me. Not by much, but by enough to make it easy for him to reach.

I let out a sigh as I finally get a grip on it and yank it down. Okay, goal one accomplished. Now to find a bowl and pour the milk. The bowl's easy, Jack ran the dishwasher earlier. The milk…oh boy, means braving the fridge again. Here's hoping it's not older than the pizza--ah, good. Brand new gallon. No worries.

At least, not until I drop the damned thing on my foot and its contents start coating the kitchen floor. Shit, shit, SHIT!

A thumping of feet and the kitchen light flickering on announces the arrival of my lover. "Danny? Geeze! You should've called for me!" He picks up the bottle and sets it on the counter before grabbing a towel and trying to soak up the pale liquid.

"You were busy being sick."

"Little Pepto cured me right up." He says it with a smile, but I can see he's still a little green. He'd better brush his teeth before he tries to come near me with that mouth. "I would've been happy to fix you a snack."

"And end up with barf bits in my food? No thanks." I lean against the counter and watch as he cleans. I'd get down and help him, except I'd probably overbalance and land on my arm. "Jack, it's okay, really. I had it under control-"

"Until you dropped the milk." He gets up and squeezes out the towel over the sink before trying to mop up the rest of the spill.

I shrug sheepishly. Okay, so it was a bit heavier than I expected. But I'm used to being self-sufficient, even if we have been steady for a while. I've lived independently for so long, and a few years isn't going to change that. "I'm sorry. I'll…um…" Can't offer to clean it up, or make it up to him later. He'll snuggle in bed, but not much else. He's still afraid he'll hurt me, or that my movements will make things worse.

"It's alright, Danny." He gets up one final time and drops the damp cloth in the sink, staring at it. "So you still want your cereal?"

"Uh, yeah…if you don't mind." I shuffle over to the table and take a seat, watching him. The floor's going to be sticky, but I doubt he's going to bother cleaning it up tonight. A minute later I'm proven right as he slides into the seat across from me and hands me my snack. Maybe he was right about the Pepto. He's looking better. Or maybe it's the moonlight. "Thanks."

"You sleeping okay?"

Huh? Where'd that come from? "Yeah, until I woke up with the munchies." I think he's suffered enough for tonight. No need to tell him exactly how I woke up, or that my arm is still dully throbbing. "What about you?"

"Not really." He glances out the window. "I got a call from the President today."

I raise my eyebrow as I munch on some sugary sustenance. Damn, how can Jack wolf these down every morning? This is sweeter than a honey-glazed chocolate cake--and I still hate Sam for guilting me into eating that. It was a monstrosity, not a culinary experiment. On the plus side my dentist was able to pay for his daughter's tuition. "About…?"

"Oh, the lockdown, shooting you…" he lets out a frustrated sigh. "My second in command." His gaze travels down to the table where he picks at some imaginary splinter. "President says I have until next Tuesday to find one, or he'll appoint someone to the position."

"I'm sure Sam will accept." I'm sure that's who Jack's talking about. He was 2IC while Hammond was in charge. It's a sort-of tradition for the leader of SG1 to fulfill that role.

"She can't." He glances at me quickly. "It has to be a civilian. He liked Weir, but with her gone…"

We need another civilian. Hmm. That's a tough problem. There's not many that qualify; and by qualify, I mean we entirely trust. There's still subversive organizations out there who are trying to control the Gate and what it's used for. The only two people I can think of are…Doctor Lee and Nyan. The former is too invested in his research and the latter…let's just say he's a good research assistant, but he's significantly lacking in other areas. He still doesn't know how to file requisitions. "So who are you thinking of asking?"

"Well, someone with experience, that's been with the program a while. Someone who knows the ins and outs of the SGC, is good at diplomacy, isn't fazed by aliens just popping in and out at God knows what hour, and is generally an all-around decent guy that everyone respects and trusts." He shrugs meekly. "Course he could still go out on missions and do his bit digging in the dirt."

I nod, agreeing with him wholeheartedly. That sounds like an ideal candidate. "Sounds like you already have someone in mind."

"Oh, I do, I do. He's really intelligent, and cares more about people than some goals. I think he'd make the perfect 2IC. Especially since his department is baying for blood. Something about getting published, some recognition, and having more missions devoted to their research."

I halt bringing a full spoon to my mouth and stare at him. That sounds suspiciously like my department. After eight years they want permission to publish at least some of our findings. And they're pretty pissed that military members get promotions and medals, and we get, well, more paperwork. And there's talks of striking until we get at least two more pure anthropology-archeology teams for Gate travel.

"So what's keeping me up at night is…do I ask him to move into his new office now, or wait until he's back at work full-time so that I don't have to get extra airmen to move his crap and get yelled at for not being careful enough?" Jack's finally turned to stare at me, leaning forward on the table expectantly.

I slowly put my spoon down and level him with a look. Is he actually asking me to become the SGC's 2IC? He looks serious, and while a prankster, my Jack wouldn't joke about this. That means I have to make a decision, a rather big one, about my future. On the one hand I'll be in a better position to mold SGC policy, but on the other I'll have less time for my work and more responsibility. I'd have a say as to who comes into my department, but I also have to deal with the Washington morons who control the budget.

But then, is there any other civilian who could handle the position? Weir thought she could, but in the end she turned to me. And I have to admit I was a little jealous that she was asked to take over before me. Just a little. Not that Kinsey would've even considered me. Stirring my cereal a moment, I look up through my lashes at Jack. "I think you should keep him in his current office, just let him rearrange it a bit. That way he isn't upset at being moved, and he can fulfill his duties as your 2IC."

Jack's face brightens a bit. "Gee, now why didn't I think of that?"

"Military mindset. When you get a promotion, you get a new office. Not always so in the civilian world." I go back to eating what remains of my snack.

"See, now that's what I like about you, Danny. Always thinking outside the box." He grins and sits up. "Not that I'd approve of anyone else. You're the only man who's earned the right to run the SGC. No one can hold a candle to ya."

I finish my cereal and push the bowl away. "Jack, I'm nothing special-"

"Oh, yes you are. You've died and come back, you're the only man who's earned the trust of the Tollan, the Nox, AND the Ancients, and you always say and do the right thing even when I tell you to shut up." He gets up and brings my dish to the sink. "Not to mention that you can see things where others can't, everyone at the mountain would sacrifice themselves to protect you, and you've got a humble streak a mile wide."

Okay, now he's just saying stuff to make me blush. And it's working. I can feel blood rushing across my face and neck. "Okay, Jack, you've made your point." Leaning a hand on the table I'm able to get to my feet without much trouble. "So is there a list of my duties, or are we going to call it as we see it?"
"Nope, there's an official contract drawn up at the mountain. Just need your John Hancock on a few lines and we'll be set." He comes over and wraps his arms around my waist. "You and me, Danny, running the most important project in the world."

"Guess this means we'll be taking more work home with us."

"Yeah sure you betcha." He leans his head in to kiss my neck.

I swiftly move my hand between his lips and my pulse point. "I don't really want your recently vomit-filled mouth on me, thank you." Even I have my limits.

"Oh, right." He lets me go. "Give me five to brush and meet me in bed."

"Yes, sir, General." He gives me a brief leer before leaving. I really shouldn't push his kink buttons like that, especially when he's still afraid of hurting me. Carefully, I make my way back to the bedroom and slide onto my side of the bed, throwing the covers over me. Second in command of the SGC. It's a big step, an unexpected step. Jack and I'll have to be more careful, but we've survived this long, and with Kinsey gone the NID's lost a lot of power. I smirk slightly. Sam's gonna be thrilled when I tell her, Teal'c too. Things are definitely going to change around here.

"Hey there, thinker. Knock it off." Jack's tongue swipes across my collarbone. "You're ruining this."

Well, things may change, but my Jack certainly won't. I turn and flash him a smile. "I love you."

"Love you too, Space Monkey," he says into my shoulder. "Tomorrow we'll make it official."

"And tonight?"

"Tonight…it's time for my midnight snack." He smirks at me, then goes beneath the covers.

I moan as he finds his 'snack.' Well, it's only fair. He made my snack, and he deserves one too. No complaints here. I've been waiting for this since he took me home. As for my arm…I snag Jack's pillow and stick it under the bandage. It's not Jack's chest, but at this moment, he's working on more…important matters.