The door to the laboratory flew open with a bang and made way for Colonel Jack O'Neill to enter.
"Hey, Dan... oh, Carter, didn't know you were in here."
"Colonel."
Sam's gaze took a brief leave from the microscope to acknowledge the colonel's presence.
"Haven't seen Daniel, have you?"
"Here, Jack," Daniel sighed as he reached his head up from behind his desk. "I dropped some papers, and..."
"How nice. Well, that can wait. I need your help with something."
"I'll come," Sam said, seeing that Daniel had his work cut out for him with the pile of files scattered across the floor.
"No, I really need Daniel for this one. No offence, captain, but I gotta get some stuff from storage and..."
"Sir, I can manage..."
"I *know* you can. It's just such a minor thing that I'd hate to tear you away from anything important for it, whereas Daniel here..." Jack said turning towards the man, who was gathering his papers frantically from the floor and throwing them into a shapeless heap on his desk, "...has absolutely nothing better to do."
"Oh, thank you so much!"
Daniel cast Jack a glance to accompany his wry grin that left no room for misinterpretation, but even the icy coldness of his blue eyes couldn't surpass the warmth of the colonel's smile. Talk about the last line of defence...
"Don't mention it. Now, on your feet and follow me."
Sam couldn't help smiling to herself as the she watched Daniel hurry after Jack into the corridor. Those two were inseparable; tied by the ankles and destined to run in the same direction, no matter how much each of them attempted to stay on a path of his own. But when you have black and white in equal quantities, what else are you going to get but grey and she was watching the perfect shade of grey. The continuous teasing and bickering, all those quick looks exchanged between them, the way they were unquestionably prepared to die for one another; that was a true friendship if she ever saw one.
With a deep sigh she turned back to the microscope. At times Sam had a passing sensation that she 'mattered', that she had a place in the team and even an essential place, and yet she knew she could never form that same kind of bond which Jack and Daniel so explicitly shared. She could never compete with that. Although the men hadn't known each other much longer than her or Teal'c, they existed on a level the elevator in the SGC could not and never would reach.
But inevitably the petty little beast called envy had to humble itself and crawl back underneath the mossy rock, where it belonged but never did stay.
Sam's lips curved upward. Those two were simply adorable.
****
"Jack, wait up!"
But Jack didn't seem to register Daniel's voice, nor did he make any effort to slow his pace. Down the corridor, right, straight ahead, left, right again, straight, straight, quick left and they were there. The keys were already in Jack's hand and the door experienced the fate of its colleague only minutes before and banged against the wall from the strength of the push.
"We need some stuff for our next mission," Jack said loudly. "It could take some time to find them, but we really need those things."
"Fine, you don't have to shout," Daniel said and stepped past Jack into the storage room.
Jack was quick to follow and before Daniel had time to react in any way, the door was closed and locked, he was pushed against the concrete wall and trapped between it and Jack's body, both equally hard.
"Uh, Jack..."
"Just shut up, Daniel... I've been waiting all day for this... don't you dare ruin it by talking."
The words were barely audible, a broken string of half-swallowed sounds, coming from a mouth busily engaged in kissing Daniel's neck, face, hair, whatever it could find and enjoy.
"Jack, I think..."
"No. Don't think."
Hands were clasping Daniel's buttocks, lips burning marks on his skin, the tongue fighting its way into his mouth. Daniel could feel his trousers around his ankles, soon accompanied by his boxer shorts.
"No, Jack... we really need to talk..."
But there was no possible way of getting through to the colonel at that moment. He wasn't interested in the words coming out of the man's mouth; there were a number of functions he could think of for that mouth and talking had most definitely hit the bottom of the long and diverse list. Instead he took a firm grip of Daniel's arm and swung him around with one quick move. Pressing Daniel's body hard against the cold concrete, Jack took hold of his wrists and lifted the man's hands above his head and pinned them to the wall. Daniel was his.
"Jack, I don't think we should be doing this..."
"Shut up, Daniel. Don't think. Don't talk."
The wall was scratching Daniel's cheek, but it wasn't that that was bothering him. He opened his mouth to make one last appeal to Jack, but the words got stuck midway, wouldn't come out of their hiding and show themselves to the clearly distracted audience. To himself Daniel justified his silence by being afraid of provoking Jack any more than he already had; admitting that his reluctance to move a muscle sprang purely out of his own growing pleasure would have been to shout his moral weakness and lack of backbone from the inner rooftops.
Time stood still and so did Daniel, as if having been transformed into a bronze statue, legs slightly apart, hands up against the wall, silently waiting, expecting. He could feel Jack's hand still pressed into his back, keeping him tight in its hold without any prospects of ever escaping. Daniel couldn't even see the man in control of his body, merely stare at the shelf full of boxes right next to him. Fragile. He kept reading the word on one of the boxes over and over again until it turned into a sort of mantra for him. Fragile.
But after what seemed to be an endless eternity the torture of not knowing what was happening became too much for Daniel, and gathering all his courage, he whispered the inevitable question.
"Uh, Jack... What are you doing?"
"Just admiring this ass of yours. God, how I missed it! Never go away for so long ever again, you hear?"
His fingertips travelled across the fuzzy butt cheek, stopping for a moment to gently caress the firm muscle and then following the soft curve further down and back up again. Jack couldn't, and didn't even try to, take his eyes off of it. He recognised true beauty when he saw it.
"We can't do this, not now..."
"Oh, yes now!"
The hand had been torn away from Daniel's buttocks to be engaged in a more pressing matter. Jack was about to burst and freeing his erection from the prison of his trousers took priority even over enjoying the feel of the flesh shivering slightly in front of him. But that was not enough. He would have to have more. Locating the tube of lubricant in his pocket, Jack tore off the cap with his teeth and applied it generously onto his shaft, not forgetting to save some for Daniel as well.
Daniel twitched as the cool gel hit his skin. He couldn't let this happen.
"Jack... please..."
"I told you to shut up, Daniel. Don't you *ever* listen?"
"But..."
The time for buts was gone. Jack couldn't wait a second longer and with force he pushed himself inside Daniel. Through the surge of pleasure he could hear a new wave of protests flowing from Daniel's mouth and reached out his hand to stop it.
"C'mon now, Danny," he whispered as his hand pressed harder against Daniel's lips. "I know you want this, so quit whining; we don't have much time."
One of the fingers had already slipped past the tightened lips and knowing he had lost the fight, Daniel took it in, leaving the door open for the rest to follow. He kissed his mantra goodbye and concentrated all his energy on Jack's fingers, sucking them, biting them. He could feel the warmth of Jack's breath on his neck, the wetness of his tongue in his ear, the hardness of his flesh inside him and the sweetness of the strawberry flavoured lubricant in this mouth. Jack was filling him completely.
Though his defences were already shot down, Daniel did snap out of it in time to react to the touch of Jack's hand as it slid over his hips and towards his hardening organ. Reaching down, Daniel pulled the hand away. But Jack seemed determined to give Daniel the same satisfaction that he himself was enjoying.
"No, Jack," Daniel muttered with Jack's fingers still in his mouth.
"No?"
"No."
Jack was entangled too deep in his passion to take any more notice of Daniel's words, to wonder at his refusal, and he resigned himself to letting go and instead reached for the man's hands high up on the wall, where he was welcomed with relief.
In the midst of the gallery of images that had crowded his mind the past three days it didn't take Jack long to reach his peak and cast his semen inside Daniel. With a low groan he slumped against Daniel, wanting to stall the inevitable separation from that most beautiful of all behinds.
"Welcome home, Daniel," he finally managed to whisper. "I missed you like crazy."
But Daniel didn't reply. He was numb. Nothing Jack said or did could reach him.
"We better get the hell outta here, before someone wanders in. You coming?"
Daniel's thoughts were moving in a different sphere altogether, a sphere where the time ran considerably slower, where everything was covered with soft, white mist, like a cloud descended from the sky to pull him into its comforting bosom. But the voice cut violently through the heavenly cloud. Jack was asking him something, he should really say something, anything.
"I... I'll stay here.. a little while..."
"Okay, whatever. Just don't forget to grab something before you leave, any box will do. I'll see ya later."
And after a quick kiss, Jack was gone.
Shivering slightly, and not solely because of the coolness of the air, Daniel hurried to pull his trousers back up, get himself covered, hide the memory of the whole incident. The cloud seemed to be melting away, scattering itself around the storeroom and losing its softening quality. Turning around, Daniel still wasn't able to let go of the wall and he leant his entire body weight against it, seeking comfort from its solidity, its uncompromising presence, but his legs had come to the end of their endurance and slowly he slid down the wall and onto the floor.
And then came the tears. There was no stopping once they had started to pour. And Daniel was the last person to stop them.
He felt violated, used, alone. This was precisely what he had hoped to prevent. He had gone through it so many times in his head as he had sat in the plane last night, tried out every conceivable scenario. Except this one.
Covering his face with his hands from the unseen eyes of the concrete walls, he let himself be swept away by the wave of sobs that rushed through his body. This was not supposed to happen, not ever again. And yet here he was, still dripping Jack's sperm into his pants. How could he have been so weak? Of course he had known what Jack had had in mind when storming into the lab; the moment he had heard the word 'storage' being uttered, there had been no doubt in his mind about what his welcoming ceremony would consist of. But why hadn't he fought back, why had he submitted himself to Jack yet again? It had been the only thing in his mind during these past three days he had been away, sitting in the conference auditorium, appearing to be listening to the lecturer, but instead searching desperately for the right way to tell Jack that it was over.
Gasping for air between the sobs, Daniel thought back once more to the time it had all started, when he had first known that Jack meant something more to him, nearly three months ago, crying here in Jack's arms, in this very room; the irony of it all was almost enough to make him sick. Though of course that time had been purely consoling, nothing but empathy on Jack's part and chaotic confusion on his, and nevertheless, Daniel had known it there and then, shaking in Jack's hold and sharing his pain with the man. He had known it more clearly than ever before, and there would never be any use in denying it.
What had ultimately mattered the most was the weeks after that, how Jack had helped him through the addiction he had developed to the sarcophagus, how the man had been there for him, because that's what it all boils down to in the end, just being there, being present.
First there had been two men trying to heal their wounds, physical as well as emotional, and Daniel was convinced that Jack had found as much strength from him as vice versa. The time spent in imprisonment and in the mines had carved its mark into Jack's body and the memory of Shyla had kept Daniel in a hold of its own till their return to the planet. Although as a matter of fact, his heart had been mended long before that and there was no question by whom.
Daniel couldn't help smiling through the tears as the memory of their very first night together appeared before his mind's eye, the night the dream had started...
****
After Daniel had been released from the infirmary, Jack had insisted that he would stay at his house, but Daniel's stubbornness had won the argument over at whose place it would be and so Jack had moved in for the time being, as it was agreed upon.
The first two days had gone well, Daniel being quite out of it due to the drugs, but on the third day he had decided the sedatives were only making him feel worse by filling his world with giant cotton balls and giving the effect of floating free in a soft and steady stream while simultaneously being trapped in a room where the walls kept coming closer and closer until he felt like suffocating and could actually taste the cotton in his mouth. Therefore, he had stopped taking the pills and that was when he had stopped sleeping, as well.
The insomnia had been intolerable and carefully concealed from Jack, since Daniel hadn't wanted him to get all worried for nothing. As a result, he had started his solitary night-life, sneaking quietly around the dark house, getting a drink of water or fetching some book or other from the living room; anything to keep him on the move and out of bed.
And it was one of those trips to the living room that had made all the difference.
Jack slept on the couch as he had done for almost a week. It wasn't the first time Daniel had halted to take a look at the sleeping man, but that one particular night, he had stayed a little bit longer, sat down in the chair next to the sofa to watch Jack's chest rise in a steady rhythm and listen to the slight snore echoing down in his throat. He remembered thinking how peaceful Jack had looked, how far the mellow man in the moonlight had been from the matter-of-fact colonel of the daytime.
Only a little movement in his sleep and Jack's eyes opened, then closed for long enough to let Daniel give a sigh of relief before they were wide open again.
"Daniel? What's wrong?"
Jack was already up and reaching for the light-switch on the table lamp.
"I'm fine. Please, don't turn on the light. I like the dark."
"So, what is it? Can't sleep?"
Daniel nodded.
"Nightmares?"
"No. I just can't close my eyes. Too much to think about."
"Not nice thoughts, I take it."
"Not particularly. I have to have something to do, all the time, to keep me from thinking."
"So, you've taken to listening to me snore, huh?"
"You don't snore... that much."
Even Daniel had to smile seeing the offended look on Jack's face.
"Okay, why don't we get you back to bed and see what we can do about this insomnia of yours," Jack said, getting up and pulling Daniel up from his chair as well. "Maybe if I tried singing you a nursery rhyme or something..."
"If I didn't have nightmares *before*..."
"Come here and say that again...."
Jack led him into the bedroom, but when offering to tuck Daniel in, he met with strong resistance.
"No, Jack, I can't." Daniel shook his head and started backing away from the bed and towards the door. "Maybe it would be better if you slept here, I can be awake just as easily on the sofa."
"Do you have any idea what that thing does to your back? Don't think I'm ever going to walk straight again."
"Oh, I've dozed off on there quite a few times, believe me, and that's all the more reason why you should stay here instead of me."
"Look, Daniel, my back is killing me already; it won't make the slightest bit of difference where I sleep the rest of the night. So, get in the bed and I'll read you a nice story of..." Jack said and took a look at the title of the book on Daniel's night stand, "The Golden Bough, volume one? I'm almost afraid to ask, but how many are there?"
"Uh, twelve. It's a classic nineteenth-century study in anthropology."
"Of course it is," Jack sighed.
"I've got to have something to do."
"Ever tried knitting?"
Jack did his best to hide the signs of pain as he bent to put the book down, but Daniel was quick to notice the clenching of his teeth.
"You know, I'm told I'm pretty good at giving massages, I could probably do something for that back of yours..."
"You?"
"Yes, me. Get on your stomach and I'll show you."
"Daniel..."
"Please. It'll give me something to do. I need this."
With a surrendering sigh Jack eased himself onto the bed and placed his hands under his cheek as a pillow. Daniel rolled his T-shirt up and hesitated for a moment before letting his fingers dig deep into the stiffened muscles.
"This is going to hurt."
"More than that?"
"Sorry. I'll try to be more gentle."
Daniel's fingers slid on Jack's skin, admiring its surprising softness, taking note of every mole and scar, learning the curves and discovering the tender spots. Jack said nothing, apart from a few overly dramatic mock-moans, and Daniel continued his work in silence.
He took no notice of the first tears as they hit Jack's back. His hands kept doing the same circular motion, rubbing the salty liquid into the skin.
Jack, on the other hand, had felt the drops on his back and turned around to confirm his suspicions.
"Daniel? What is it?"
But Daniel could only shake his head and bury his face in his hands.
"Hey, buddy, talk to me."
"No, I can't... I just... can't..." Daniel muttered and tried to get up, but Jack had already gotten a firm grip on his arm and pulled him back down.
"Nothing I haven't seen before," he said quietly. "You're not going anywhere till you tell me what's wrong."
"I can't... I..."
Daniel burst into violent sobs, and mostly due to sheer tiredness, he lost the battle against his pride, letting loose the pack of emotions that he had kept under strict guard those past few days.
"I can't trust myself. I try, Jack, I really try not to think about the sarcophagus, about Shyla, but I can't trust myself not to think about it..."
"Okay, take it easy," Jack cut into the irrational babble. "You don't trust yourself... with what? What exactly are you afraid of?"
"That I'll suddenly get the urge to go back, that I won't be able to fight it..."
"Well, that's why I'm here, Daniel. I'm not gonna let you do anything that stupid."
"That's what I'm afraid of! Of what I would do if you stood in my way! God, Jack... I almost shot you once. What guarantee do I have that it won't happen again?"
"You *almost* shot me, listen to me, *almost*. That wasn't you holding the gun, it was the addiction, not you."
"Yes it was me! I don't remember that much of what happened, but I do remember the gun in my hand, that feeling, how I was so ready to kill you, Jack, just like that... just like that..."
"No, no, Daniel." Jack reached to gather him into his arms. "You didn't shoot me, because you beat that addiction, you won and you've been winning ever since."
"What guarantee do I have..."
"You're getting better, that's your guarantee."
"I sat there," Daniel said, pulling back from Jack, "in the living room, watching you sleep and thinking how easy it would be to take a pillow and hold it..."
"But you didn't! I'm here, aren't I?"
"But what if--?"
"No! You're winning this fight, I know you are. And I'm not afraid of you, so there's no reason for *you* to be!"
"Jack..."
"C'mere," Jack said softly, pushing Daniel down on the bed and laying himself down next to him. "You can get a bit spooky sometimes, but scary - never."
In the dim light of the room, coming through the window and colouring everything cold grey, Daniel could see the warm smile on Jack's face.
"Thanks."
"You're very welcome."
Jack reached to wipe away the last trace of tears from Daniel's face and somehow ended up staying that way, gently cupping Daniel's cheek and stroking the unshaven skin with his thumb. Daniel's eyelids felt unusually heavy and he slid into a place where there was no sarcophagus and where nothing moved, not people, not time, nothing except for Jack's hand, the sole holder of that rare privilege.
However, the strokes on Daniel's skin were getting ever lighter until completely gone.
"Jack, don't," he said, grabbing Jack's hand and pressing it back against his cheek.
"I won't..." Jack replied and paused. "... what?"
"Don't go."
Daniel brushed his cheek against the palm of Jack's hand.
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Good."
They lay quiet, face to face on the bed. Jack's whisper was the first to break the silence.
"Just say if I'm making you uncomfortable and I'll go back to my couch."
"Why would you make me uncomfortable?"
"Because you're making me."
"How?"
"Hell, I dunno... You just are."
"Then I'll go," Daniel said and pushed himself up on the bed.
"No, no.... Wait," Jack said grabbing him by the arm and pulling him back. "I didn't mean it like that."
Daniel pressed his head down quietly on the pillow, waiting for Jack to finish the sentence. But no addition was coming and instead Jack's hand slid back on Daniel's cheek and while the thumb returned to its pleasant task, the dark eyes tried desperately to express something words were incapable of transmitting.
Without giving it any more thought, Daniel leant closer and placed his hand on Jack's cheek, his thumb's movement mirroring that of Jack's. They stayed that way for a long time, or at least so it had seemed to Daniel, gently stroking each other's cheek.
It could have lasted for the eternity it felt like if only Daniel had had more control over his hand, but as he was far out of the reach of this world, there was nothing preventing his fingers from pushing further into Jack's neck, getting a firm grip on his hair and pulling him inevitably in Daniel's direction.
Consequently, the kiss was initiated by him, but Jack appeared to be very willing to play along, his lips brushing lightly over Daniel's, giving only a little foretaste of what the weeks after that were about to bring along.
That was the beginning of what could have been something beautiful.
****
The sex had crept in almost unnoticed, as a natural extension of the comfort shared between them. And it had been hot, so incredibly hot.
A fresh load of tears wet Daniel's face as he pictured those innumerable nights he had spent at Jack's, the clumsy inexperience of them both gradually evolving into this peculiar combination of warm tenderness and animal rage. They had been like newly-weds, doing it in every room, on all the furniture, at any time of the day. Not even the base had managed to keep its virginity, no, they had gone through every single storage room and any other place without a security camera in it, until Daniel was sure he could give a complete inventory of every item stored in the entire base.
Not that he regretted any of that, far from it. Those stolen moments they had enjoyed were immortalised in his mind and nothing but death could ever erase them. But a week ago he had decided that the stock of memories had reached its point of culmination and would increase no more.
This is where the irony of it all dealt its second strike. It was precisely the sex that Daniel loved so much that was the reason behind his decision.
There he was, moments after having sex with the man he loved and he was crying his eyes out. Now, what was wrong with this picture?
'Having sex', there's your problem right there. Since that's all it was, 'sex'. Daniel loathed the mere word, the way it comprised in one single syllable the essence of the mechanical act, its meaninglessness, its emptiness. Like Jack said, he was only a beautiful ass to him, a piece of meat to be taken whenever most convenient.
Daniel had had his doubts from the beginning, that Jack was doing it out of curiosity, that he was simply drawn to the exotic, the unknown, but back then he had believed, and even long after that convinced himself, that that was also the motive behind his own actions, but the dream had had to come to an end.
And this was the end.
Or it should have been. If only he hadn't been so weak, it could all have actually been a dream by now, only a wonderful dream turned bad.
As long as the dream had lasted he had been so happy, so at ease with everything, that not even the threat of dying on Cimmeria had managed to diminish the overwhelming feeling of being... alive. No other word to describe it. Alive. As much of a cliché as it was, Jack had given him the will to live. And for a brief moment, when Jack was hanging from the wall, pierced by the spike from the orb they had brought back from... something-something... that look, that unforgettable look he had given Daniel, and the words: 'O'Neill wishes to live'... For that flashing moment, Daniel had actually dared to hope that his feelings could someday be returned, that he was giving Jack something as well. But evidently Jack's will to live had been based on something quite different from his.
The hope was dead. Daniel refused to torture himself like this any longer. He wanted to live.
Taking a deep breath, he wiped the remaining tears on his sleeve.
"Daniel? What are you doing here?"
"Oh... Hi, Sam," Daniel said as he stood up from the floor. "Jack... he didn't need my help after all, so I..."
"So, you thought you'd take a little nap instead," Sam said smiling a bit awkwardly. "But don't you think a bed might have been more comfortable?"
"Oh. Yeah. Sure. Didn't think. Jet lag. You know how it is."
"Yes, of course," Sam replied, remembering that Daniel had only crossed one time zone but deciding to ignore the thought. "Anyway, I forgot that I needed something, too - a new buckle for my backpack."
"Over there, the second shelf."
Sam gave Daniel a surprised look, which he could only return with a quick grin and a shrug of shoulders; how was she to know that he had had to pick up every one of those buckles from the floor a week earlier, after he and Jack had pushed the box over in their heat of passion.
"Sure you're okay? We ship out in less than an hour."
Taking a look at his watch to confirm the time himself, Daniel was startled to realise how long he had been there. He would have to hurry if he was to tell Jack his decision before the mission.
"I'm fine. A little tired, that's all."
He followed Sam out of the storage room and made up an excuse to get away from her. It would have to be done now. It would all stop now. The crying would stop, the hurting would stop... a full stop.
****
"Jack, stop! I really need to talk to you about something!"
"Sorry, Daniel, don't have time for chit-chat. We have a briefing in ten minutes and I have to go change. As should you, I might add," Jack said turning to take a look at the man half-running to his side. "C'mon, let's get you into the finest Paris has to offer."
The men reached the locker room and hurried to get out of their clothes. Daniel tried to resist the image of them doing this very same thing, in Jack's hallway, cursing the amount of stubborn buttons that stood in the way of two bodies aching to melt into one. How many times had it been? How many nights had he driven to Jack's house, making it his own personal pilgrimage, though not in order to gain pleasure in the afterlife but even more so in this one?
Both acting like programmed robots, they put on their overalls. No words were spoken, there wasn't time for that, the movement of their bodies being the only justifiable action, or it was until Daniel rewrote the rules.
Still staring at his locker, Daniel swallowed down the lump in his throat and blurted out the words he had been holding back ever since the incident in the storage room.
"Jack, it's over. We can't do this anymore."
"Come again?" Jack asked, raising his eyebrows and taking a quick look around the room to see if anyone else was listening.
"That was the last time, there, in the storage room, it won't happen again, not ever. It's over."
Daniel couldn't look at the man; one look and he would change his mind, fall back into that helpless weakness and allow Jack to push him around any way he pleased. No, this time he would have to be strong, give in no more.
"What do you mean 'over'?"
"Don't do this, Jack. Can't we make it easy on both of us and end this with some dignity?"
"Look, I have *no* idea what you talking about, but can't this wait until after the mission?"
"No, no, it really can't. And there's nothing left to wait, because it's all over. I was meaning to talk to you as soon as I got back from the trip, but then the plane was delayed and I was so tired and almost fell asleep in the cab on my way home and..."
Daniel paused as he realised the meaninglessness of the words escaping his mouth.
"None of that matters now," he said, trying to get a hold of himself once more. "Jack, we both know what it was, how exiting, how... casual. It was fun but all fun must come to an end. And this is it."
Daniel slammed his locker door shut and walked out of the room, not wanting to let Jack see the burning in his eyes. He would not shed one single tear for him. Crying was weakness and he had just stepped over the threshold of courage.
Shaking his head in disbelief, Jack held out his hand to balance himself against the wall. It couldn't have been more than an hour since he had been inside this man, celebrating his return home, and now this bomb had shattered everything, leaving nothing intact. The sky had been bright blue and suddenly Jack found himself shivering in the cold rain. No, better make that thunder, with flashes of lightning piecing right through him.
Had he been too rough with Daniel? But Daniel 'liked' it rough, that much he was sure of. Pretty sure. Hell, he should have listened to what the man had been trying to tell him, but no, he was too busy satisfying his own needs to pay any attention to his lover's pleas. Fuck! At least Daniel's rejection of his offer to finish him off should have raised his suspicions. Double fuck!
But where was all this coming from? Jack had thought everything was fine, they were getting closer day by day and then the man ends it all with two and a half words - it's over.
Hell, it was far from over! No, he would *not* give up without a fight. The man owed him an explanation and a damn good one for that matter.
Jack got back control of his arms and legs and headed for the door determined to get to the root of it all. At the Gate room door he caught up with Daniel.
"Hold it! You think you can just drop a bomb like that and walk away?"
"Jack, there's really nothing more to say. And even if there were, this is not the place for that conversation."
"What did you mean by 'fun'? Look at me when I'm talking to you."
"Let go of my arm. I meant exactly what I said and that is that it meant nothing."
"Nothing, not a damn thing... Daniel..."
"Let go of me! Now! I'm sick and tired of being just a great piece of ass to you, always at the colonel's disposal, whenever he might need a quickie! Well, no more, Jack. It's over!"
Daniel's face reddened in a way the world had never witnessed before. The blue eyes flaming the same familiar thunder, in which Jack had already found himself caught in the locker room, Daniel yanked his arm free from Jack's grip and rushed through the door and out of his reach.
Jack couldn't believe the messages coming from his senses. Those words. The Daniel he knew could never have said that, never. Who had authorised him to go and turn the tables like that?
"Colonel? All set?"
The voice made Jack turn towards it and give Sam a blank stare. People. There were other people, other than Daniel and him. Had anyone heard them? At least Carter didn't seem to be acting any differently and except for her the corridor appeared to be empty. Empty like him.
"Yeah. Fine. Better get going. The mission awaits."
It was not over. They would talk this out, later, definitely. Just had to get past the mission first. Should be a routine one; MALP had indicated no signs of life, it was yet another desert planet, sand as far as the eye could see. Jack was nodding to himself as he repeated it over and over - this was not the end. They would visit this giant sandbox, catch some rays and be home in no time. And then he would tie Daniel to a chair if that was what it took to make him listen to what he had to say. Past the mission.
****
Jack was the first one to see it. The heavy clouds had caught his attention a while back, but as they had seemed to linger in the horizon, he hadn't given it any more thought until suddenly realising they were almost on top of them. For a moment it looked like the sand dunes were moving, like the waves of an ocean, but these waves gave a lot more cause for concern.
"Sandstorm! Everyone back to the Gate!"
The team ran as fast as they could in the soft sand that seemed to be doing everything in its power to slow them down, wanting to swallow the four figures into its deadly embrace.
"Daniel! Dial!" Jack yelled when they reached the Stargate.
"I'm trying, I'm trying," the man answered, already standing in front of the DHD and pushing the symbols on it feverishly, but they refused to cooperate, as if in conspiracy with the sand.
"It won't lock... there's sand everywhere..."
"Hurry, Daniel, it's coming straight at us!"
Sam was there to offer her help to Daniel with the device playing dead at the risk of their lives.
"I *am* trying!"
"Well, try harder!" Jack shouted, his voice only barely carrying over the noise of the wind as it kept getting stronger with every blow, gathering new strength and endless amounts of sand as it swept over the burning desert.
"It appears to be approaching with great speed."
"Oh, thank you, Teal'c! In case we all get killed, you'll be sure to point that out for me, won't ya?!"
Jack couldn't help snapping at the Jaffa standing next to him and looking completely oblivious of the premature death for which they all seemed destined.
"I got it!" Daniel screamed when the symbols finally gave way and the blue wormhole flashed open. "Sending the signal... ready!"
"Run! Go-go-go!"
Sam and Teal'c were the first ones to reach the Gate, the latter giving the former a shove to send her through it before turning back only to receive a furious yell from the colonel.
"Go, now!"
The DHD was a few yards from the Gate and the sand had its own opinion whether or not to let Daniel follow his team mates.
"C'mon, Daniel! Run!"
Jack was still standing in front of the Gate, waiting for the last member of his team to get through before stepping into the wormhole himself. But even the colonel had no say when the wind took control and blew him, along with a few dozen buckets of sand, right through the Gate.
"Hey, Dan... oh, Carter, didn't know you were in here."
"Colonel."
Sam's gaze took a brief leave from the microscope to acknowledge the colonel's presence.
"Haven't seen Daniel, have you?"
"Here, Jack," Daniel sighed as he reached his head up from behind his desk. "I dropped some papers, and..."
"How nice. Well, that can wait. I need your help with something."
"I'll come," Sam said, seeing that Daniel had his work cut out for him with the pile of files scattered across the floor.
"No, I really need Daniel for this one. No offence, captain, but I gotta get some stuff from storage and..."
"Sir, I can manage..."
"I *know* you can. It's just such a minor thing that I'd hate to tear you away from anything important for it, whereas Daniel here..." Jack said turning towards the man, who was gathering his papers frantically from the floor and throwing them into a shapeless heap on his desk, "...has absolutely nothing better to do."
"Oh, thank you so much!"
Daniel cast Jack a glance to accompany his wry grin that left no room for misinterpretation, but even the icy coldness of his blue eyes couldn't surpass the warmth of the colonel's smile. Talk about the last line of defence...
"Don't mention it. Now, on your feet and follow me."
Sam couldn't help smiling to herself as the she watched Daniel hurry after Jack into the corridor. Those two were inseparable; tied by the ankles and destined to run in the same direction, no matter how much each of them attempted to stay on a path of his own. But when you have black and white in equal quantities, what else are you going to get but grey and she was watching the perfect shade of grey. The continuous teasing and bickering, all those quick looks exchanged between them, the way they were unquestionably prepared to die for one another; that was a true friendship if she ever saw one.
With a deep sigh she turned back to the microscope. At times Sam had a passing sensation that she 'mattered', that she had a place in the team and even an essential place, and yet she knew she could never form that same kind of bond which Jack and Daniel so explicitly shared. She could never compete with that. Although the men hadn't known each other much longer than her or Teal'c, they existed on a level the elevator in the SGC could not and never would reach.
But inevitably the petty little beast called envy had to humble itself and crawl back underneath the mossy rock, where it belonged but never did stay.
Sam's lips curved upward. Those two were simply adorable.
****
"Jack, wait up!"
But Jack didn't seem to register Daniel's voice, nor did he make any effort to slow his pace. Down the corridor, right, straight ahead, left, right again, straight, straight, quick left and they were there. The keys were already in Jack's hand and the door experienced the fate of its colleague only minutes before and banged against the wall from the strength of the push.
"We need some stuff for our next mission," Jack said loudly. "It could take some time to find them, but we really need those things."
"Fine, you don't have to shout," Daniel said and stepped past Jack into the storage room.
Jack was quick to follow and before Daniel had time to react in any way, the door was closed and locked, he was pushed against the concrete wall and trapped between it and Jack's body, both equally hard.
"Uh, Jack..."
"Just shut up, Daniel... I've been waiting all day for this... don't you dare ruin it by talking."
The words were barely audible, a broken string of half-swallowed sounds, coming from a mouth busily engaged in kissing Daniel's neck, face, hair, whatever it could find and enjoy.
"Jack, I think..."
"No. Don't think."
Hands were clasping Daniel's buttocks, lips burning marks on his skin, the tongue fighting its way into his mouth. Daniel could feel his trousers around his ankles, soon accompanied by his boxer shorts.
"No, Jack... we really need to talk..."
But there was no possible way of getting through to the colonel at that moment. He wasn't interested in the words coming out of the man's mouth; there were a number of functions he could think of for that mouth and talking had most definitely hit the bottom of the long and diverse list. Instead he took a firm grip of Daniel's arm and swung him around with one quick move. Pressing Daniel's body hard against the cold concrete, Jack took hold of his wrists and lifted the man's hands above his head and pinned them to the wall. Daniel was his.
"Jack, I don't think we should be doing this..."
"Shut up, Daniel. Don't think. Don't talk."
The wall was scratching Daniel's cheek, but it wasn't that that was bothering him. He opened his mouth to make one last appeal to Jack, but the words got stuck midway, wouldn't come out of their hiding and show themselves to the clearly distracted audience. To himself Daniel justified his silence by being afraid of provoking Jack any more than he already had; admitting that his reluctance to move a muscle sprang purely out of his own growing pleasure would have been to shout his moral weakness and lack of backbone from the inner rooftops.
Time stood still and so did Daniel, as if having been transformed into a bronze statue, legs slightly apart, hands up against the wall, silently waiting, expecting. He could feel Jack's hand still pressed into his back, keeping him tight in its hold without any prospects of ever escaping. Daniel couldn't even see the man in control of his body, merely stare at the shelf full of boxes right next to him. Fragile. He kept reading the word on one of the boxes over and over again until it turned into a sort of mantra for him. Fragile.
But after what seemed to be an endless eternity the torture of not knowing what was happening became too much for Daniel, and gathering all his courage, he whispered the inevitable question.
"Uh, Jack... What are you doing?"
"Just admiring this ass of yours. God, how I missed it! Never go away for so long ever again, you hear?"
His fingertips travelled across the fuzzy butt cheek, stopping for a moment to gently caress the firm muscle and then following the soft curve further down and back up again. Jack couldn't, and didn't even try to, take his eyes off of it. He recognised true beauty when he saw it.
"We can't do this, not now..."
"Oh, yes now!"
The hand had been torn away from Daniel's buttocks to be engaged in a more pressing matter. Jack was about to burst and freeing his erection from the prison of his trousers took priority even over enjoying the feel of the flesh shivering slightly in front of him. But that was not enough. He would have to have more. Locating the tube of lubricant in his pocket, Jack tore off the cap with his teeth and applied it generously onto his shaft, not forgetting to save some for Daniel as well.
Daniel twitched as the cool gel hit his skin. He couldn't let this happen.
"Jack... please..."
"I told you to shut up, Daniel. Don't you *ever* listen?"
"But..."
The time for buts was gone. Jack couldn't wait a second longer and with force he pushed himself inside Daniel. Through the surge of pleasure he could hear a new wave of protests flowing from Daniel's mouth and reached out his hand to stop it.
"C'mon now, Danny," he whispered as his hand pressed harder against Daniel's lips. "I know you want this, so quit whining; we don't have much time."
One of the fingers had already slipped past the tightened lips and knowing he had lost the fight, Daniel took it in, leaving the door open for the rest to follow. He kissed his mantra goodbye and concentrated all his energy on Jack's fingers, sucking them, biting them. He could feel the warmth of Jack's breath on his neck, the wetness of his tongue in his ear, the hardness of his flesh inside him and the sweetness of the strawberry flavoured lubricant in this mouth. Jack was filling him completely.
Though his defences were already shot down, Daniel did snap out of it in time to react to the touch of Jack's hand as it slid over his hips and towards his hardening organ. Reaching down, Daniel pulled the hand away. But Jack seemed determined to give Daniel the same satisfaction that he himself was enjoying.
"No, Jack," Daniel muttered with Jack's fingers still in his mouth.
"No?"
"No."
Jack was entangled too deep in his passion to take any more notice of Daniel's words, to wonder at his refusal, and he resigned himself to letting go and instead reached for the man's hands high up on the wall, where he was welcomed with relief.
In the midst of the gallery of images that had crowded his mind the past three days it didn't take Jack long to reach his peak and cast his semen inside Daniel. With a low groan he slumped against Daniel, wanting to stall the inevitable separation from that most beautiful of all behinds.
"Welcome home, Daniel," he finally managed to whisper. "I missed you like crazy."
But Daniel didn't reply. He was numb. Nothing Jack said or did could reach him.
"We better get the hell outta here, before someone wanders in. You coming?"
Daniel's thoughts were moving in a different sphere altogether, a sphere where the time ran considerably slower, where everything was covered with soft, white mist, like a cloud descended from the sky to pull him into its comforting bosom. But the voice cut violently through the heavenly cloud. Jack was asking him something, he should really say something, anything.
"I... I'll stay here.. a little while..."
"Okay, whatever. Just don't forget to grab something before you leave, any box will do. I'll see ya later."
And after a quick kiss, Jack was gone.
Shivering slightly, and not solely because of the coolness of the air, Daniel hurried to pull his trousers back up, get himself covered, hide the memory of the whole incident. The cloud seemed to be melting away, scattering itself around the storeroom and losing its softening quality. Turning around, Daniel still wasn't able to let go of the wall and he leant his entire body weight against it, seeking comfort from its solidity, its uncompromising presence, but his legs had come to the end of their endurance and slowly he slid down the wall and onto the floor.
And then came the tears. There was no stopping once they had started to pour. And Daniel was the last person to stop them.
He felt violated, used, alone. This was precisely what he had hoped to prevent. He had gone through it so many times in his head as he had sat in the plane last night, tried out every conceivable scenario. Except this one.
Covering his face with his hands from the unseen eyes of the concrete walls, he let himself be swept away by the wave of sobs that rushed through his body. This was not supposed to happen, not ever again. And yet here he was, still dripping Jack's sperm into his pants. How could he have been so weak? Of course he had known what Jack had had in mind when storming into the lab; the moment he had heard the word 'storage' being uttered, there had been no doubt in his mind about what his welcoming ceremony would consist of. But why hadn't he fought back, why had he submitted himself to Jack yet again? It had been the only thing in his mind during these past three days he had been away, sitting in the conference auditorium, appearing to be listening to the lecturer, but instead searching desperately for the right way to tell Jack that it was over.
Gasping for air between the sobs, Daniel thought back once more to the time it had all started, when he had first known that Jack meant something more to him, nearly three months ago, crying here in Jack's arms, in this very room; the irony of it all was almost enough to make him sick. Though of course that time had been purely consoling, nothing but empathy on Jack's part and chaotic confusion on his, and nevertheless, Daniel had known it there and then, shaking in Jack's hold and sharing his pain with the man. He had known it more clearly than ever before, and there would never be any use in denying it.
What had ultimately mattered the most was the weeks after that, how Jack had helped him through the addiction he had developed to the sarcophagus, how the man had been there for him, because that's what it all boils down to in the end, just being there, being present.
First there had been two men trying to heal their wounds, physical as well as emotional, and Daniel was convinced that Jack had found as much strength from him as vice versa. The time spent in imprisonment and in the mines had carved its mark into Jack's body and the memory of Shyla had kept Daniel in a hold of its own till their return to the planet. Although as a matter of fact, his heart had been mended long before that and there was no question by whom.
Daniel couldn't help smiling through the tears as the memory of their very first night together appeared before his mind's eye, the night the dream had started...
****
After Daniel had been released from the infirmary, Jack had insisted that he would stay at his house, but Daniel's stubbornness had won the argument over at whose place it would be and so Jack had moved in for the time being, as it was agreed upon.
The first two days had gone well, Daniel being quite out of it due to the drugs, but on the third day he had decided the sedatives were only making him feel worse by filling his world with giant cotton balls and giving the effect of floating free in a soft and steady stream while simultaneously being trapped in a room where the walls kept coming closer and closer until he felt like suffocating and could actually taste the cotton in his mouth. Therefore, he had stopped taking the pills and that was when he had stopped sleeping, as well.
The insomnia had been intolerable and carefully concealed from Jack, since Daniel hadn't wanted him to get all worried for nothing. As a result, he had started his solitary night-life, sneaking quietly around the dark house, getting a drink of water or fetching some book or other from the living room; anything to keep him on the move and out of bed.
And it was one of those trips to the living room that had made all the difference.
Jack slept on the couch as he had done for almost a week. It wasn't the first time Daniel had halted to take a look at the sleeping man, but that one particular night, he had stayed a little bit longer, sat down in the chair next to the sofa to watch Jack's chest rise in a steady rhythm and listen to the slight snore echoing down in his throat. He remembered thinking how peaceful Jack had looked, how far the mellow man in the moonlight had been from the matter-of-fact colonel of the daytime.
Only a little movement in his sleep and Jack's eyes opened, then closed for long enough to let Daniel give a sigh of relief before they were wide open again.
"Daniel? What's wrong?"
Jack was already up and reaching for the light-switch on the table lamp.
"I'm fine. Please, don't turn on the light. I like the dark."
"So, what is it? Can't sleep?"
Daniel nodded.
"Nightmares?"
"No. I just can't close my eyes. Too much to think about."
"Not nice thoughts, I take it."
"Not particularly. I have to have something to do, all the time, to keep me from thinking."
"So, you've taken to listening to me snore, huh?"
"You don't snore... that much."
Even Daniel had to smile seeing the offended look on Jack's face.
"Okay, why don't we get you back to bed and see what we can do about this insomnia of yours," Jack said, getting up and pulling Daniel up from his chair as well. "Maybe if I tried singing you a nursery rhyme or something..."
"If I didn't have nightmares *before*..."
"Come here and say that again...."
Jack led him into the bedroom, but when offering to tuck Daniel in, he met with strong resistance.
"No, Jack, I can't." Daniel shook his head and started backing away from the bed and towards the door. "Maybe it would be better if you slept here, I can be awake just as easily on the sofa."
"Do you have any idea what that thing does to your back? Don't think I'm ever going to walk straight again."
"Oh, I've dozed off on there quite a few times, believe me, and that's all the more reason why you should stay here instead of me."
"Look, Daniel, my back is killing me already; it won't make the slightest bit of difference where I sleep the rest of the night. So, get in the bed and I'll read you a nice story of..." Jack said and took a look at the title of the book on Daniel's night stand, "The Golden Bough, volume one? I'm almost afraid to ask, but how many are there?"
"Uh, twelve. It's a classic nineteenth-century study in anthropology."
"Of course it is," Jack sighed.
"I've got to have something to do."
"Ever tried knitting?"
Jack did his best to hide the signs of pain as he bent to put the book down, but Daniel was quick to notice the clenching of his teeth.
"You know, I'm told I'm pretty good at giving massages, I could probably do something for that back of yours..."
"You?"
"Yes, me. Get on your stomach and I'll show you."
"Daniel..."
"Please. It'll give me something to do. I need this."
With a surrendering sigh Jack eased himself onto the bed and placed his hands under his cheek as a pillow. Daniel rolled his T-shirt up and hesitated for a moment before letting his fingers dig deep into the stiffened muscles.
"This is going to hurt."
"More than that?"
"Sorry. I'll try to be more gentle."
Daniel's fingers slid on Jack's skin, admiring its surprising softness, taking note of every mole and scar, learning the curves and discovering the tender spots. Jack said nothing, apart from a few overly dramatic mock-moans, and Daniel continued his work in silence.
He took no notice of the first tears as they hit Jack's back. His hands kept doing the same circular motion, rubbing the salty liquid into the skin.
Jack, on the other hand, had felt the drops on his back and turned around to confirm his suspicions.
"Daniel? What is it?"
But Daniel could only shake his head and bury his face in his hands.
"Hey, buddy, talk to me."
"No, I can't... I just... can't..." Daniel muttered and tried to get up, but Jack had already gotten a firm grip on his arm and pulled him back down.
"Nothing I haven't seen before," he said quietly. "You're not going anywhere till you tell me what's wrong."
"I can't... I..."
Daniel burst into violent sobs, and mostly due to sheer tiredness, he lost the battle against his pride, letting loose the pack of emotions that he had kept under strict guard those past few days.
"I can't trust myself. I try, Jack, I really try not to think about the sarcophagus, about Shyla, but I can't trust myself not to think about it..."
"Okay, take it easy," Jack cut into the irrational babble. "You don't trust yourself... with what? What exactly are you afraid of?"
"That I'll suddenly get the urge to go back, that I won't be able to fight it..."
"Well, that's why I'm here, Daniel. I'm not gonna let you do anything that stupid."
"That's what I'm afraid of! Of what I would do if you stood in my way! God, Jack... I almost shot you once. What guarantee do I have that it won't happen again?"
"You *almost* shot me, listen to me, *almost*. That wasn't you holding the gun, it was the addiction, not you."
"Yes it was me! I don't remember that much of what happened, but I do remember the gun in my hand, that feeling, how I was so ready to kill you, Jack, just like that... just like that..."
"No, no, Daniel." Jack reached to gather him into his arms. "You didn't shoot me, because you beat that addiction, you won and you've been winning ever since."
"What guarantee do I have..."
"You're getting better, that's your guarantee."
"I sat there," Daniel said, pulling back from Jack, "in the living room, watching you sleep and thinking how easy it would be to take a pillow and hold it..."
"But you didn't! I'm here, aren't I?"
"But what if--?"
"No! You're winning this fight, I know you are. And I'm not afraid of you, so there's no reason for *you* to be!"
"Jack..."
"C'mere," Jack said softly, pushing Daniel down on the bed and laying himself down next to him. "You can get a bit spooky sometimes, but scary - never."
In the dim light of the room, coming through the window and colouring everything cold grey, Daniel could see the warm smile on Jack's face.
"Thanks."
"You're very welcome."
Jack reached to wipe away the last trace of tears from Daniel's face and somehow ended up staying that way, gently cupping Daniel's cheek and stroking the unshaven skin with his thumb. Daniel's eyelids felt unusually heavy and he slid into a place where there was no sarcophagus and where nothing moved, not people, not time, nothing except for Jack's hand, the sole holder of that rare privilege.
However, the strokes on Daniel's skin were getting ever lighter until completely gone.
"Jack, don't," he said, grabbing Jack's hand and pressing it back against his cheek.
"I won't..." Jack replied and paused. "... what?"
"Don't go."
Daniel brushed his cheek against the palm of Jack's hand.
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Good."
They lay quiet, face to face on the bed. Jack's whisper was the first to break the silence.
"Just say if I'm making you uncomfortable and I'll go back to my couch."
"Why would you make me uncomfortable?"
"Because you're making me."
"How?"
"Hell, I dunno... You just are."
"Then I'll go," Daniel said and pushed himself up on the bed.
"No, no.... Wait," Jack said grabbing him by the arm and pulling him back. "I didn't mean it like that."
Daniel pressed his head down quietly on the pillow, waiting for Jack to finish the sentence. But no addition was coming and instead Jack's hand slid back on Daniel's cheek and while the thumb returned to its pleasant task, the dark eyes tried desperately to express something words were incapable of transmitting.
Without giving it any more thought, Daniel leant closer and placed his hand on Jack's cheek, his thumb's movement mirroring that of Jack's. They stayed that way for a long time, or at least so it had seemed to Daniel, gently stroking each other's cheek.
It could have lasted for the eternity it felt like if only Daniel had had more control over his hand, but as he was far out of the reach of this world, there was nothing preventing his fingers from pushing further into Jack's neck, getting a firm grip on his hair and pulling him inevitably in Daniel's direction.
Consequently, the kiss was initiated by him, but Jack appeared to be very willing to play along, his lips brushing lightly over Daniel's, giving only a little foretaste of what the weeks after that were about to bring along.
That was the beginning of what could have been something beautiful.
****
The sex had crept in almost unnoticed, as a natural extension of the comfort shared between them. And it had been hot, so incredibly hot.
A fresh load of tears wet Daniel's face as he pictured those innumerable nights he had spent at Jack's, the clumsy inexperience of them both gradually evolving into this peculiar combination of warm tenderness and animal rage. They had been like newly-weds, doing it in every room, on all the furniture, at any time of the day. Not even the base had managed to keep its virginity, no, they had gone through every single storage room and any other place without a security camera in it, until Daniel was sure he could give a complete inventory of every item stored in the entire base.
Not that he regretted any of that, far from it. Those stolen moments they had enjoyed were immortalised in his mind and nothing but death could ever erase them. But a week ago he had decided that the stock of memories had reached its point of culmination and would increase no more.
This is where the irony of it all dealt its second strike. It was precisely the sex that Daniel loved so much that was the reason behind his decision.
There he was, moments after having sex with the man he loved and he was crying his eyes out. Now, what was wrong with this picture?
'Having sex', there's your problem right there. Since that's all it was, 'sex'. Daniel loathed the mere word, the way it comprised in one single syllable the essence of the mechanical act, its meaninglessness, its emptiness. Like Jack said, he was only a beautiful ass to him, a piece of meat to be taken whenever most convenient.
Daniel had had his doubts from the beginning, that Jack was doing it out of curiosity, that he was simply drawn to the exotic, the unknown, but back then he had believed, and even long after that convinced himself, that that was also the motive behind his own actions, but the dream had had to come to an end.
And this was the end.
Or it should have been. If only he hadn't been so weak, it could all have actually been a dream by now, only a wonderful dream turned bad.
As long as the dream had lasted he had been so happy, so at ease with everything, that not even the threat of dying on Cimmeria had managed to diminish the overwhelming feeling of being... alive. No other word to describe it. Alive. As much of a cliché as it was, Jack had given him the will to live. And for a brief moment, when Jack was hanging from the wall, pierced by the spike from the orb they had brought back from... something-something... that look, that unforgettable look he had given Daniel, and the words: 'O'Neill wishes to live'... For that flashing moment, Daniel had actually dared to hope that his feelings could someday be returned, that he was giving Jack something as well. But evidently Jack's will to live had been based on something quite different from his.
The hope was dead. Daniel refused to torture himself like this any longer. He wanted to live.
Taking a deep breath, he wiped the remaining tears on his sleeve.
"Daniel? What are you doing here?"
"Oh... Hi, Sam," Daniel said as he stood up from the floor. "Jack... he didn't need my help after all, so I..."
"So, you thought you'd take a little nap instead," Sam said smiling a bit awkwardly. "But don't you think a bed might have been more comfortable?"
"Oh. Yeah. Sure. Didn't think. Jet lag. You know how it is."
"Yes, of course," Sam replied, remembering that Daniel had only crossed one time zone but deciding to ignore the thought. "Anyway, I forgot that I needed something, too - a new buckle for my backpack."
"Over there, the second shelf."
Sam gave Daniel a surprised look, which he could only return with a quick grin and a shrug of shoulders; how was she to know that he had had to pick up every one of those buckles from the floor a week earlier, after he and Jack had pushed the box over in their heat of passion.
"Sure you're okay? We ship out in less than an hour."
Taking a look at his watch to confirm the time himself, Daniel was startled to realise how long he had been there. He would have to hurry if he was to tell Jack his decision before the mission.
"I'm fine. A little tired, that's all."
He followed Sam out of the storage room and made up an excuse to get away from her. It would have to be done now. It would all stop now. The crying would stop, the hurting would stop... a full stop.
****
"Jack, stop! I really need to talk to you about something!"
"Sorry, Daniel, don't have time for chit-chat. We have a briefing in ten minutes and I have to go change. As should you, I might add," Jack said turning to take a look at the man half-running to his side. "C'mon, let's get you into the finest Paris has to offer."
The men reached the locker room and hurried to get out of their clothes. Daniel tried to resist the image of them doing this very same thing, in Jack's hallway, cursing the amount of stubborn buttons that stood in the way of two bodies aching to melt into one. How many times had it been? How many nights had he driven to Jack's house, making it his own personal pilgrimage, though not in order to gain pleasure in the afterlife but even more so in this one?
Both acting like programmed robots, they put on their overalls. No words were spoken, there wasn't time for that, the movement of their bodies being the only justifiable action, or it was until Daniel rewrote the rules.
Still staring at his locker, Daniel swallowed down the lump in his throat and blurted out the words he had been holding back ever since the incident in the storage room.
"Jack, it's over. We can't do this anymore."
"Come again?" Jack asked, raising his eyebrows and taking a quick look around the room to see if anyone else was listening.
"That was the last time, there, in the storage room, it won't happen again, not ever. It's over."
Daniel couldn't look at the man; one look and he would change his mind, fall back into that helpless weakness and allow Jack to push him around any way he pleased. No, this time he would have to be strong, give in no more.
"What do you mean 'over'?"
"Don't do this, Jack. Can't we make it easy on both of us and end this with some dignity?"
"Look, I have *no* idea what you talking about, but can't this wait until after the mission?"
"No, no, it really can't. And there's nothing left to wait, because it's all over. I was meaning to talk to you as soon as I got back from the trip, but then the plane was delayed and I was so tired and almost fell asleep in the cab on my way home and..."
Daniel paused as he realised the meaninglessness of the words escaping his mouth.
"None of that matters now," he said, trying to get a hold of himself once more. "Jack, we both know what it was, how exiting, how... casual. It was fun but all fun must come to an end. And this is it."
Daniel slammed his locker door shut and walked out of the room, not wanting to let Jack see the burning in his eyes. He would not shed one single tear for him. Crying was weakness and he had just stepped over the threshold of courage.
Shaking his head in disbelief, Jack held out his hand to balance himself against the wall. It couldn't have been more than an hour since he had been inside this man, celebrating his return home, and now this bomb had shattered everything, leaving nothing intact. The sky had been bright blue and suddenly Jack found himself shivering in the cold rain. No, better make that thunder, with flashes of lightning piecing right through him.
Had he been too rough with Daniel? But Daniel 'liked' it rough, that much he was sure of. Pretty sure. Hell, he should have listened to what the man had been trying to tell him, but no, he was too busy satisfying his own needs to pay any attention to his lover's pleas. Fuck! At least Daniel's rejection of his offer to finish him off should have raised his suspicions. Double fuck!
But where was all this coming from? Jack had thought everything was fine, they were getting closer day by day and then the man ends it all with two and a half words - it's over.
Hell, it was far from over! No, he would *not* give up without a fight. The man owed him an explanation and a damn good one for that matter.
Jack got back control of his arms and legs and headed for the door determined to get to the root of it all. At the Gate room door he caught up with Daniel.
"Hold it! You think you can just drop a bomb like that and walk away?"
"Jack, there's really nothing more to say. And even if there were, this is not the place for that conversation."
"What did you mean by 'fun'? Look at me when I'm talking to you."
"Let go of my arm. I meant exactly what I said and that is that it meant nothing."
"Nothing, not a damn thing... Daniel..."
"Let go of me! Now! I'm sick and tired of being just a great piece of ass to you, always at the colonel's disposal, whenever he might need a quickie! Well, no more, Jack. It's over!"
Daniel's face reddened in a way the world had never witnessed before. The blue eyes flaming the same familiar thunder, in which Jack had already found himself caught in the locker room, Daniel yanked his arm free from Jack's grip and rushed through the door and out of his reach.
Jack couldn't believe the messages coming from his senses. Those words. The Daniel he knew could never have said that, never. Who had authorised him to go and turn the tables like that?
"Colonel? All set?"
The voice made Jack turn towards it and give Sam a blank stare. People. There were other people, other than Daniel and him. Had anyone heard them? At least Carter didn't seem to be acting any differently and except for her the corridor appeared to be empty. Empty like him.
"Yeah. Fine. Better get going. The mission awaits."
It was not over. They would talk this out, later, definitely. Just had to get past the mission first. Should be a routine one; MALP had indicated no signs of life, it was yet another desert planet, sand as far as the eye could see. Jack was nodding to himself as he repeated it over and over - this was not the end. They would visit this giant sandbox, catch some rays and be home in no time. And then he would tie Daniel to a chair if that was what it took to make him listen to what he had to say. Past the mission.
****
Jack was the first one to see it. The heavy clouds had caught his attention a while back, but as they had seemed to linger in the horizon, he hadn't given it any more thought until suddenly realising they were almost on top of them. For a moment it looked like the sand dunes were moving, like the waves of an ocean, but these waves gave a lot more cause for concern.
"Sandstorm! Everyone back to the Gate!"
The team ran as fast as they could in the soft sand that seemed to be doing everything in its power to slow them down, wanting to swallow the four figures into its deadly embrace.
"Daniel! Dial!" Jack yelled when they reached the Stargate.
"I'm trying, I'm trying," the man answered, already standing in front of the DHD and pushing the symbols on it feverishly, but they refused to cooperate, as if in conspiracy with the sand.
"It won't lock... there's sand everywhere..."
"Hurry, Daniel, it's coming straight at us!"
Sam was there to offer her help to Daniel with the device playing dead at the risk of their lives.
"I *am* trying!"
"Well, try harder!" Jack shouted, his voice only barely carrying over the noise of the wind as it kept getting stronger with every blow, gathering new strength and endless amounts of sand as it swept over the burning desert.
"It appears to be approaching with great speed."
"Oh, thank you, Teal'c! In case we all get killed, you'll be sure to point that out for me, won't ya?!"
Jack couldn't help snapping at the Jaffa standing next to him and looking completely oblivious of the premature death for which they all seemed destined.
"I got it!" Daniel screamed when the symbols finally gave way and the blue wormhole flashed open. "Sending the signal... ready!"
"Run! Go-go-go!"
Sam and Teal'c were the first ones to reach the Gate, the latter giving the former a shove to send her through it before turning back only to receive a furious yell from the colonel.
"Go, now!"
The DHD was a few yards from the Gate and the sand had its own opinion whether or not to let Daniel follow his team mates.
"C'mon, Daniel! Run!"
Jack was still standing in front of the Gate, waiting for the last member of his team to get through before stepping into the wormhole himself. But even the colonel had no say when the wind took control and blew him, along with a few dozen buckets of sand, right through the Gate.