Way #60 -- Strip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah

"Mmmph," Daniel muttered pleasantly into his pillow. It was a feather pillow with a fresh, clean, white pillow case. It sunk to curve its shape around his head. He sighed and sunk back into peaceful oblivion and wasn't interrupted until a clear, bell-like chime filled his room.

"Come on, breakfast is served. I'm not giving it to you in bed."

Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!

Daniel groaned and rolled over in bed. Cracking one eye open, he saw the sideways view of Jack standing by the doorway, holding, of all things, a triangle, tapping it with the tiny metal bar over and over, ringing it. Ugh.

"Morning, sunshine. Time to rise and shine. C'mon, up and at 'em." Ding ding ding ding ding!

Daniel closed the eye and buried his head under the nice feather pillow, muffling the sound. Jack didn't seem to notice and cheerfully continued to ring the triangle and make chipper suggestions about getting up. Memories drained back into Daniel's waking brain. Oh, yes. Yesterday. The last thing he recalled was . . . a crimp in his neck from sleeping on the floor. Daniel had no idea how long they slept on Jack's living-room floor, but it had not been a good idea. It couldn't have been too long. They woke up in the pitch-dark room, which still smelled faintly of candle-smoke, pain in their bones having overcome their weariness. So they shuffled off to better accommodations, Jack back on the couch and Daniel taking the bed. It seemed like years ago by now, with the morning sunshine creeping through the windows. Hmm, no matter. Plenty of time to sleep in now. After all, today was Sunday, wasn't a work day.

"Daniel, I promised I was going to return the favor with your chores. We have to get going if I'm gonna keep good on that offer." Ding ding ding ding ding!

Oh, yeah. Right, they had more chores to do-- damn. Maybe he should . . . oh, screw it. Daniel could always get his chores done next weekend. He wanted to sleep in, damnit.

"Nehhhm. GowayJack," Daniel murbled.

"Oh no, my dear. You'll thank me later for this. You know you'd like to get your chores done right?"

"Mmeeh. Don'tcare."

"Oh-ho. Now you don't care, all cuddled down in there and cozy, but you will a few hours from now. C'mon, have you no self-discipline, Daniel?"

Daniel chuckled suddenly.

"You're lecturing me on self-discipline."

The triangle clanked as Jack put it down none-too-gently.

"I was gonna let you off easy this time, Daniel, with the waking up and all-- you aren't being very cooperative. This is your final warning before I switch tactics."

Daniel considered his options. Get up now or be at the mercy of whatever Jack's demented mind could come up with and sleep in for a few more precious minutes? Daniel gazed fuzzily at the window, nose wrinkling at the cold air outside his bed. Then he grunted and rolled over, burying himself deep in blankets and pillows, with a satisfied procrastinator's sigh. Then he did his very best to ignore Jack. It worked for a while, and Daniel felt himself drifting off to sleep again, but just as he was about to, the bed jiggled a little from Jack's weight. A threatening voice floated above him:

"All right, looks to me like you need a little help getting up. Maybe these nice warm blankets are the problem."

The bed jiggled and flopped as Jack jumped off. Daniel felt a tug at his comforter, and felt it slowly being dragged off him. The man groaned in protest, squinting eyes shut and grabbing a fistful of blanket. Yet the quilt continued its slow migration off the bed, and with a few unexpected sharp tugs, went flinging from the bed. Daniel decided it wasn't that major of a loss and was happy with what he had left. Soon he felt Jack pulling at the next layer, though. He grumbled and latched onto the blankets tighter this time, but Jack had a clear leverage advantage over him, and ripped it out from where it was tucked in under the mattress. Daniel felt cooler air enter through his decreased blankets and grumbled discontentedly. Jack said nothing and carried on with the next blanket. Danny had a hold of this one better. He would've been able to keep it if Jack hadn't started twisting the blanket and yanking upwards like that. He heard something fall off Jack's dresser as Jack tossed the blanket across the room. Now there were only the sheets left: Daniel clung resolvedly to these. Pressing his face into the pillow, bracing himself against the mattress, he held against Jack's unfair tug-of-war. Grabbing enough sheet by the corners he wrapped it around his shoulder and rolled on his stomach to twist it around his body, then pressed his weight down on it, squeezing his eyes shut. It worked well for a while. Unfortunately Jack employed deviant and dirty tactics. Leaning close to the floor he yanked on the sheet but it wasn't coming as easily as he'd wanted it to. Jack bared his teeth, his eyes darting about his prey, trying to decide on a tactic of torture, then settled right on target. He flicked his tongue out to lick his lips and then leapt at the foot of the bed, grabbing a leg. He gave the skin behind the knee a sloppy, rough lick and then mashed his face into it, blowing air through his lips to emit ridiculous raspberry sounds. Daniel shrieked in total unexpected shock and then Jack stood up and ripped the sheet off the bed in one clean sweep, spinning Daniel back onto his back.

Glaring furiously up at the man who held the sheet like a trophy, Daniel uttered,

"Bastard."

Jack dangled the sheet in Daniel's face teasingly.

"C'mon Danny, don't you think it's about time you admit defeat?"

Daniel rolled over and stuffed his face back in the pillow. Jack sighed and continued to strip the bed, pulling up the slip cover on the mattress. The stubborn man didn't try to stop Jack anymore, just laid there as if asleep, face buried deep in feather fluff. Jack finally tugged up the last layer of the cotton pad on the mattress and pulled it off without much difficulty. Daniel laid there on a completely bare mattress now, pressed blissfully into the single feather pillow, a happy smile on his face, for he had outsmarted Jack. He'd sleep without any blankets. Jack stood there with his hands on his hips, trying to decide what the next thing to do was.

"Feeling a little drafty, Daniel?"

"Nah, I'm good, thanks."

Ooh. The man had such a smug tone in his voice. That set Jack off. He forced his voice to sound tranquil and sweet.

"You still won't get up and I'm going to keep stripping, Daniel."

Daniel chuckled at the absurd threat.

"Go right ahead."

How on Earth could one resist after that invitation? Jack lurched forward on impulse and, sliding his hands into the short legs of Daniel's boxer-shorts, grabbed firm hold of the material in both fists. Daniel's eyes popped open and cautiously sought out Jack's. Once he fell upon those brown eyes he calmed, staring back. Daniel said,

"You wouldn't."

So confidant. So very certain of himself. Jack's legs pressed into the foot of the bed, as if bracing himself, ready for another tug-of-war. He challenged,

"Would I?"

Daniel shifted a little so he was on his back again, the better to stare down Jack's daring gaze.

"No. You wouldn't."

Jack gave a dark little grin and repeated through closed teeth,

"Would I?"

Daniel swallowed. Then Jack pulled. Daniel yelled immediately and instinctively grabbed hold of the elastic waist of the shorts with both hands to keep them up. As a result Daniel slid half-way across the mattress on his butt, pulled along by Jack. His attacker froze a moment.

"Jack."

"You getting up from bed?"

Daniel frowned, narrowed his eyes.

"No."

"I can drag you off," Jack said, tone clearly stating that was exactly what he planned on doing. Shit, he wasn't bluffing. Jack began pulling again and Daniel yelped, twisting around to try and lose Jack's grip. Jack twisted with him to stay on. With a kick Daniel pushed himself further back up the slick mattress and used one hand to hold on tight to the top side of the mattress, the other hand around the elastic waist. Jack forced him back on his back and then began pulling, hard--

"Aaaaieeeeyeeeei!" Daniel gurgled urgently, as the boxer-shorts warped and twisted, being held on only by the tenuous grip of one of Daniel's hands, while he barely clung to the head of the mattress with another hand.

"Cheating! This isn't fair!" Daniel managed to squeak out, as he tugged furiously, trying to get more boxer material in his single fist, learning that one hand was not enough to keep things upright. Jack indeed had a total leverage advantage, both feet planted firmly on the floor.

Jack paused mid-pull, as he realized this, and stared down into Daniel's eyes again.

"You surrender?"

Daniel grumbled unhappily at the suggestion. Jack's eyes casually lowered, face twisting into a smirk at the twisted, wrinkled state of the man's undergarment, still barely held on, indeed, most of the man's butt having slid out, now pressed against the mattress.

"Yes! Get off me!" Daniel snapped. Jack grinned as Daniel released the mattress, used both hands to tug hard to pull the pants back up, kicking with his feet to push Jack away.

"It's your own fault," Jack pointed out to him. Daniel was sitting up on the mattress, in his t-shirt and wrinkled boxers, looking up at his tormentor.

"How's that, again?"

"I told you I was going to. You said to go ahead."

"True." Daniel paused to think. An idea floated to his mind.

"I'm locking the door next time."

"Might be a wise precaution."

Jack turned to leave the bedroom and said over his shoulder,

"You better hurry up if you don't want breakfast getting cold."

Daniel sighed.

"Yes, mother."