He made a noise in the back of his throat and turned over, pulling the thick, warm quilt over his head. An exasperated chuckle sounded into the morning gloom, and then more loudly, "Daniel. I've got coffee."
Daniel peeked one eye open, and looked at the clock on the side of the bed. His myopic eyes could barely make out the numbers 5:25. He pulled the covers back over his head. Not even coffee could entice him out of bed at that hour.
"Danny…" the voice sing-songed, far too chipper for so early. He didn't reply, just curled into a ball and tried to go back to sleep.
"C'mon, I want to show you something," the voice cajoled, bringing him farther out of sleep despite his efforts.
"Go 'way," he slurred sullenly. Too early, his mind protested muzzily.
Whoever was bothering him said, "Good, we're to the talking stage," and then inched the blankets low enough to waft the scent of warm coffee into his cocoon. Daniel grumbled mentally; that wasn't playing fair. Especially since it was his favorite, expensive coffee. Jack continued, "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty."
"Tell the sun to shine first," he grumbled, mostly incomprehensible. He could practically hear Jack rolling his eyes. After a moment, when no other sound was forthcoming, Daniel let himself slip into a half-doze. He was well on his way to true sleep when his nice, warm comforter was ripped from his grasp.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" he yelped, suddenly wide awake. It was cold. He glared viciously at a grinning, unrepentant Jack.
"Desperate measures," Jack said sweetly.
"These are not desperate times," Daniel growled, reaching for the quilt Jack held just out of reach. The colonel shoved his coffee mug into his hand instead.
"Drink. I'll get your jacket and shoes."
Daniel scowled at him, but Jack took the quilt with him when he left. He sipped his coffee, eyes surly, shivering. When Jack returned, sans quilt, Daniel favored him with a look he usually reserved for Goa'uld. Jack raised an eyebrow, and handed him a thick sweater and jacket, a pair of equally thick socks, and his boots. Daniel donned the sweater and jacket because he was cold, but didn't touch the socks or boots.
Jack sighed. "Sunrise is in ten minutes, Daniel. Please?" And then the bastard looked at him with wide, pleading chocolate eyes reminiscent of a Saint Bernard. Daniel never could say no to those eyes.
"I don't want to see the sunrise," he argued petulantly, but yanked on the socks and slipped into the boots. Jack smiled at him brilliantly.
"You'll love it. Come on," Jack urged, grabbing Daniel's hand. The archaeologist allowed himself to be pulled out to the main room, where he spotted his stolen quilt. And an extra-large thermos. Jack graciously handed him the thermos; Daniel opened it to smell his favorite coffee—again—and felt himself soften toward his lover. A little. He put his empty coffee mug in its place.
Then, quilt in hand, Jack led the way outside to the dock. Daniel was pleasantly surprised to find another thick blanket covering the wood planks, and a few soft pillows atop it. He looked at Jack, who just grinned at him, all enthusiastic five-year-old.
The sky was already brightening, purple, then deep red, touching the sky over the horizon. Daniel sat down on the pillows, and Jack carefully lowered himself next to him. Then he wrapped the quilt around the both of them. Daniel offered him the thermos: a peace offering Jack accepted with good grace.
Together, they watched as red slowly turned to orange, and then as the sun rose higher, to a molten yellow that seemed to spill across the sky and down onto the lake. Daniel stared, entranced, at the contrast of the deep blue and golden yellow on the lake's surface.
The sun lifted itself clear of the horizon; the sky became a clear, cloudless cerulean. Daniel found he no longer minded the early hour after watching the spectacular sunrise.
Jack murmured in his ear, "I told you you'd like it."