Reality
Rated: PG-13
Category: Vignette, Daniel/Jack established slash, but nothing graphic at all.
Season: Any.
Spoilers: None.
Summary: Real relationships ain't like the movies, kid.
Note: This was written about two years ago. It was the result of my reading one too many stories in which Daniel Jackson is turned into a fluffy, fuzzy caricature in regards to his relationship with Jack O'Neill, a conversation with a friend, and a song. I wrote it especially for this friend, as a comfort, but I've finally decided to share it. And here we are. Just a little slice of life fic.
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Daniel Jackson slammed the door of his study and yanked open a drawer in his desk before flopping into his chair. He grabbed his Creative Zen MP3 player from the drawer and turned it on with far more force than was needed, then jammed his headphones into his ears. This wasn't something he did often, but sometimes even he needed to plug in and tune out.
Especially when Jack O'Neill pissed him off.
Mightily.
Jack had "suggested" that Daniel move his stuff out of one of the hall closets of the house they shared to make room for his hockey equipment.
Daniel had laughed at Jack and told him in no uncertain terms that that simply wasn't going to happen. In Daniel's world, Jack's hockey crap belonged in the garage or the basement or anywhere else. And he couldn't help but point out that in addition to the closet they shared in the main bedroom, Jack already had the big closet in the spare bedroom all to himself. It was only fair that Daniel have one of his own, too. The hall closet was small, but suited him well for storage of his books and art and things that just didn't fit anywhere else.
Daniel scrolled through his playlists to select a song. His eyes suddenly lit upon something that suited his mood perfectly, and he smiled.
He selected the song.
He turned it all the way up.
He then proceeded to completely ignore Jack O'Neill, who was swearing loudly in the hallway and who was locked out of his study for good reason.
As the music began, Daniel's head began to bob, his smile grew, and he felt better.
"Head like a hole. Black as your soul. I'd rather die, than give you control!"
