Teal'c had relieved O'Neill from midnight watch and it was time for him to call it a day and hit the sack. The Colonel tiredly crawled over to the tent that he and Daniel shared. It made sense to share; it was one less tent that they had to tote around. Carter had to have her own, Teal'c preferred his own, but he and his friendly archeologist had decided that it made no sense to add another 10 or so pounds to a backpack if it wasn't necessary. That weight could be dedicated to medical supplies, food, or something they really needed in the field.

But when he pulled the tent flap back, Jack saw that Daniel had moved in his sleep and was taking his half out of the middle and hogging both sleeping bags, taking over Jack's bag as well as his own. "Psst, Daniel. Move over." O'Neill whispered to his somnambulistic scientist. "Danny."

"Whaaaat." It was more a whine than a question. Daniel had pulled first watch and was totally out of it.

"Move over." Jack hissed, not wanting to wake Carter in the next tent. He tried to nudge Daniel over to the right side of the tent, but the younger man refused to budge from his warm spot.

" 'm sleepin'. Goway." Daniel swatted groggily at Jack.

"Well I want to sleep too. Move over." He whispered, laying hands on Daniel's shoulder and hip. "And give me my damn bedroll."

" 'y berol. Goway."

Jack succeeded in getting the dreaming Danny to flop over on his back and retrieved the already warmed nylon sleep sack. He shucked his boots and BDUs, crawling in the covers with his underwear faking for jammies. He finally got the dirt under the bag in the proper configuration for his aging hip and shoulder when the noise started. Daniel the Allergic was snoring.

Jack sighed and pushed on his buddy. "Danny," he whispered. "Roll over, you're snoring."

Reacting with the long-suffering response of a habitual log saw-er, Jackson again shifted position without awakening. Then the moaning and breathing began.

One of the things that Jack had learned several years back when they had started out as a team, was that people with allergies also sometimes suffer from 'sleep apnea'. On planets that were heavy in conifer trees and mold, Daniel could, while sleeping, literally stop breathing for an extended period of time. When he got going good, the entire camp would seemingly breath in sync with Daniel as he sighed along, then just at everyone else got the rhythm, he'd stop...for what seemed an eternity. The whole world would wait, breathlessly, for the boy wonder to start breathing again. When finally he did, Jack would be suffering from oxygen deprivation. He was too old for this shit. O'Neill rolled over and put his pillow over his head.

He had just fallen asleep when the next phase started. Daniel started snuggling. Bless his pointy little head, Jackson had spent the majority of his life in 'hot' climates and Danny was by nature as cold blooded as any lizard. He'd been raised in Egypt, Algeria, and Turkey then when he went to school in the states; the Archeology class digs wound up being in the Southwest and Mexico. After a miserable adult existence in the cold northeastern United States and England trying to get his research funded, Daniel deciphered the Stargate, found Abydos, and married, remaining behind for a 100 degree year of bliss. Now, as a result when he was on a planet of temperate or cooler climate, he got cold. When he got cold he turned into a human heat-seeking missile.

At first, Jack had been a tad concerned about the boy's sexual orientation, but he had determined that Daniel was, in fact, just physically cold. Awake, Jackson hated casual contact with anyone of either sex. The Colonel understood this and it had taken him a long time to desensitize him to an occasional slap on the back, arm squeeze or hug. But when asleep and cold, Daniel was a noodler. Unfortunately, he was a noodler with pointy elbows and knees. And the knees and elbows were in full play tonight as it had dropped into the upper forties. After being a husband and father, Jack knew the only defense against a snuggler was a good offense. He rolled over, pushed his friend onto his right side and pushed his back up against Daniel thus providing a heat source and blocking any unintentional bruising. And he stayed warmer too.

During the occasions, he and his friend had been hospitalized in the SGC clinic, Jack had heard a few comments from the female nurses about Jackson's er, assets. The phrase about not kicking his boots out from under the bed had come up. But he knew that for all their enthusiastic interest, they wouldn't enjoy actually sleeping with Daniel, the clueless sexpot. And Daniel would have been shocked at their suggestions.

But as life had often proven to O'Neill, just because things were perfect for a while didn't mean that they would stay that way. The adenoidal archeologist started to snore once again. "Daniel..." he hissed. "roll over, I'm beggin' ya."

"Wha..." the sleepy voice responded. "Wha's wrong, Ja'k?"

"Danny, you're snoring."

" 'M not, don snore."

Jack adjusted his dirt and sleeping bag. "Ya sure, ya bettcha. Just go to sleep, quietly."

" 'Kay." And his best friend in all the known universe, rolled over, stuck his head between his shoulder blades, his fists in Jack's kidneys and spooned up against him. " 'm col, Ja'kk."

"Yes, dear. Go to sleep." Jack repositioned his pillow.

Then from the tent next door, a female voice whispered. "Good night, John-boy."

"Good night, Carter."