Disclaimer: I'm bored with this stuff, but here you go. Don't belong to me, in fact, I'm not even sure which parties have exactly the ownership of Stargate and Stargate SG-1.

Author Note: Hello! Here I am now posting this little old, very old story that I'd written ages go, but never posted here and finally managed to revise it to my liking, a little bit. As that being said, I'm not perfectly happy with the finale result, but I think it's still better than the older version.

Anyway, this revising thing is really hard, trying to catch your voice again, trying to weave that in the story seamlessly. I don't think I'll do it for my other stories anymore, and the only reason why I finished this because this one had always a special place in my heart, and it was more or else my final convinction that I, as a writer, had some potential that needed to be work over to make me someday into a decent novelist. Whether it's true or not is debatable, but I like to think I've succeed, at least just a little bit.

So I wanted it to be better, and toned it down to regulations of FFNet, changed the tone of the explicit materials to something more dreamsque accordingly with the tone of the story to post it here. Hope you'll like it.

As a side note, Endless Night is the title of one of Agatha Christie novels. But the inspiration for it came to me directly from Neil Gaiman's Endless Nights.

Takes place directly after the infamous scene in Unending.

(Edited as of 11.10.12: See the grammar mistakes I did in this little A/N? Decent novelist, my ass. Well, I've never wanted to be a true English writer anyway :D)

It wasn't anything like their first two kisses, though if he had to be completely honest with himself it wasn't like any kiss he had experienced before. The first kiss on the Prometheus had been too salacious, too lustful and for all the wrong reasons, even though as his lips crashed onto hers as much as wantonly as hers he had to remind himself why it was such this. The second kiss had been too tender, too fragile, that for one second he had thought, his hand caressing the trail of tears on her cheek he would have probably broken her if he had continued it.

The last kiss though was something entirely different. It was a flood, the breaking of a dam, an opening of a disastrous torrent, putting every damn thing in front, tearing down everything on its way into little pieces, enraged with their erratic emotions, their frustrations, their desperation and their hope. The force of it left no room for anything but the mere moment, and Daniel could not do anything but cling onto her as she was his lifeline as she fell backwards to the bed and he upon her. It felt like he was actually drowning; drowning in her.

God, he should have been terrified, but instead he only felt alive, full of life, more than anytime.

Then she was naked under the dim eerie fluorescent light. He had not realized before how pale she was like smoke or how her raven hair was dark like the endless night surrounding them but he saw her only red like a flame. She tilted her head a little and smiled, and her eyes gleamed as her lips pulling out, and she looked like she knew something, a secret that he probably would never have gotten it, if not for her.

The small, dubious, and pestiferous voice in his mind began screaming at him. It was not going to last, it said. She would just break your heart at the end, it said. It was just another game, it said. You were going to lose her, it said. But he found himself not caring anymore, not now, not when she lied bare in front of him. All facts were clear, the evidence was obvious, Vala Mal Doran was not to be trusted with hearts. But he was tired, tired of this game, tired of denying this unspoken affection, tired of fighting this battle, tired of keeping her at arm's length. He might have lost her someday, she might have broken his heart, but at least he was going to have this, whatever it was…this small piece of her, he was going to have it. Forever and one day.

She pulled upright, sat on folded legs, and took the last item of his clothes off. Her hands caressed his skin, fingertips making trails to draw her map of him, trying to mark every inch of him. "Beautiful…"she whispered then. He pulled her into his embrace, kissing her shoulder lightly. As a soft moan escaped out of her lips as her head fell back to leave open the creamy skin under jaw. His lips brushed her skin as he moved over towards the arch, her pulse beating madly against his lips, her heart drumming inside his ear.

He looked up at her, "Your pulse," and his voice cracked up as he rasped out, "It's beating too fast."

She moved closer to him, sat on his lap as her arms embraced him. She rested her forehead on the angle of shoulder, and kissed his neck, her lips holding a smile that he felt against his skin. "Well, you're close to me."

Now he felt his heart beginning to pound madly in its cage.

He buried his head into her hair, breathing her in. She smelled like summer peaches and sweet wine. His hand moved towards the back of her neck, pulling her closer, even though they were inches apart, it was not enough. She needed to be closer. Under her hair, he felt her scar, starting at the base of her back neck, reaching down over her back. A furious line, all long her neck, the proof of her past, the proof of why she was so Vala. As he caressed it with his fingertip, and she got still for a moment, stiffened, frozen in time.

"No," she whimpered, trying to push back. "Don't…"

"Shshh…"He hushed, pulling her back to his lap. "It's okay, it's okay, Vala, it's okay," he chanted over and over again.

She then relaxed between his arms, gave out a long, languorous sigh. His hand caressed her back, her arms, her hair, then suddenly she took it and guided it to south.

"Daniel, enough…enough with dawdling. I need this. I need you. Now." But it wasn't his way. He didn't do things in rush, he took his time, meticulously planned, contemplated considered from all the angles, but she was right, not now, not when they were desperate for it, desperate for each other, desperate once more with feeling.

His hand moved even more south, lingering around her folds, the feeling of wetness was enough proof but still he wanted to be sure. "Are you sure you ready?"

She hooked her legs over his waist, and looked straight at his eyes, her hand caressing his cheek fondly. "I've been never more ready for anything all in my life, Daniel." Then fear, anxiety and hope danced at the surface of her eyes, "You?"

He smiled, positioned himself, "Never been more ready too, Vala."

She just smiled back. He lifted her slightly up then pushed his way in and his darkened eyes watched her as she arched against him, crying over on his shoulder, already trying to match with him.

"Be still." He closed his eyes, hissing through his teeth. God, it had been too long since his last time, and she was so wet, so tight and so hot, clutching him tightly inside. He halted his motion, and exhaled short, sharp rasps, body tensed and rigid.

"Daniel?"

"Gimme a minute."

Only second, for only a second she held still then began to wiggle her hips.

He groaned loudly, "Still not a minute."

After a while, he began to thrust slowly and Vala moved with his pace, her movements following his naturally as if she was born to do this. She thrusted her hips, meeting with his thrusts with her owns, and soon their pace grew frantic, and a hell of lot of more clumsy, as he growled against her neck. Like their kiss, this also left no room for any technique either for any flirtatious game, just the mere moment, that glorious breath, in which there was going to be just him and her, frozen in a moment in the endless night inside a bubble, where every other thing would cease to exist, lose their meaning.

As the bubble exploding, she closed on his chest and bit his flesh, hard, and as the bite on his felt burned, he felt the endless space around and inside him shattering.

After a moment, she fell back on the bed and he fell onto her, crushing her with all his weight. Her legs were still locked around his hips and she wrapped her arms around his neck once more. After a while, when senses started to make sense again as the universe shifted back into its place, he began to pull himself out of her, but she squeezed her legs as if to protest.

"Don't go."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Then stay…"

Then he did, stilled his movements, ducked his head into hallow of her neck as his heart began to pound madly again inside its cage, with reasons not having anything to do with his recent release.

When he looked back at her, she was still as pale as smoke, her hair was as black as the endless night, and her lips were as red as blood...

She was a flame, and he was a moth, drawn into her center, burning himself...like in fairy tales.

A/N: Pale as smoke, black as the endless night, and red as blood is an alteration how Neil Gaiman described Snow White in his amazing Snow White fairy tale interpretation. Strongly reccommend it if you didn't already read it, amazing stuff, and it's published freely online too.