Picnics are so very dear to those who are in the first stage of the tender passion.
- Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
The picnic's winding down, the night looming big and quiet around them. Two moons lend a lambent glow, stars twinkling like jewels against the black velvet backdrop of space. Trees rustle in a gentle breeze.
As a child Becky loved camping outside in the backyard as a family. Staring up at the sky and listen to her uncles point out planets and constellations visible from Earth and spin fabulous yarns.
Amateur astronomers- Jack among them- are getting a kick out of identifying and naming everything visible in this new sky. (Already he's called dibs on naming the moons Patty and Selma, for reasons.)
She closes her eyes, reveling in the soft murmur of intimate conversation, the easy banter of people who care about each other deeply. The crackle and hiss of the fire soothe her into a state of utter peace and contentment. Her thoughts drift along with the woodsmoke into the sky, relishing the peaceful evening with friends and family at the top of the year.
A delightful shiver runs through her body, anticipating the blissful night to come. A warm bed shared with a gentle companion sensitive to her needs, as she is to his own. Soft kisses and tender touches at first, then a slowly building passion until finally engulfed in sheer mutual ecstasy...
"Penny for your thoughts." Her husband smiles down at her, amusement lurking in his beautiful blue eyes.
She shrugs. "Nothing much. Just enjoying the night. Admiring the view. Thinking about later."
Daniel chuckles, leaning down to kiss her softly before settling behind her on the blanket. She leans back against his chest as his arms encircle her, reveling in his warmth, the comforting solidity of his presence. The deep pleasure of loving and being loved by her soulmate.
"Are you happy, kolibro?" he murmurs, nuzzling her ear tenderly.
"Mmm-hmm. You, korvo?" It's a thing they've been doing for years, trading endearments in every language they both know. This evening it's Esperanto, hummingbird and raven.
"Oh happy enough, except I'd kill for a cup of decent coffee right about now. Not that I haven't gotten used to the taste of klah but-"
She nods sagely. "Maybe we need to find a planet where the population was originally from Africa or Central America, and took coffee beans with them when they were relocated by the Goa'uld, see what they'd like in trade." An impish smile. "Better if they have something similar to real chocolate, too."
He smirks. "You and your sweet tooth."
"You and your coffee addiction. Besides, it runs in the family. You know Jack and cake? You should see Uncle Mac with ice cream."
"Somehow I'm not surprised." Clever hands lift her hair, wrapping strands around long, slender fingers.
"Any gray hairs showing up there?" she asks after a few blissful moments savoring his gentle touch.
"Not yet. But I'll treasure every one when they appear, as signs of your wisdom and courage."
Becky rolls her eyes. "Sheesh. Just like Uncle Jack to turn getting old into an opportunity to wax sarcastic."
"Doesn't mean it's not true," Daniel says softly, caressing her cheek. "And you'll always be beautiful to me, no matter how old and gray we get. 'Maybe the hairs on my head were numbered'-"
"-'but nobody could ever count my love for you'," she finishes the quote, smiling up at her fellow bookworm. "Della to Jim, The Gift of the Magi by O. Henry."
"A Christmas story of a couple both wise and foolish at the same time." A corner of his mouth turns up. "Kinda like us."
"Yeah. Holiday stories at Midsummer, go figure. Everything will be pretty mixed up for a while anyway, until we start developing some real traditions as a community."
"There's at least one well-established already," Daniel notes, with a fond glance at the matching braided leather bracelets on their wrists- dyed blue, to go with their eyes. "Apparently we started a trend. Cassie's become the official supplier for anyone getting married."
"Good for her. She's so talented with handicrafts, it's wonderful she can make a go of it."
"She should be, you taught her well over the years."
Becky flushes, gives a one-sided shrug. "Seriously, I'm glad Uncle Mac got together with Janet. Looks like he's really taken a shine to both her and Cassie. Given his relationship issues in the past, I was afraid he'd stay a bachelor the rest of his life."
"I'm glad, too," Daniel says soberly. "No one should be alone these days if they don't want to be. Not if we're to have a chance."
"Yeah." So many lost already, to the earthquakes and tsunamis plaguing Old Earth before its untimely end.
And she the sole witness to its complete destruction, thanks to the Asgard.
She probably would've gone crazy from the nightmares caused by the suppressed memory before the memorial service, if it wasn't for the love and support of her extended family. An unlikely group gathered together by both genetics and circumstance, fiercely loyal and loving.
Especially Daniel, as her best friend, lover- and, eventually, husband.
Tears come to her eyes and he pulls her closer. On the same wavelength as always, ever since they first met in Seattle. He gently touches the bracelet on his right wrist with the matching one on her left and presses his cheek against hers. Her breath catches in her throat at the tender gesture.
"Don't think about that right now," he soothes. "We have a present to enjoy, and a future together. It's time to leave the past in the past."
She snickers. "Says the archaeologist with three doctorates."
He gently nips at her earlobe; she shivers in delight as his lips trail to the soft, sensitive spot behind it. "Your beloved archaeologist, don't forget. Mia kuraĝa princino."
She reaches for him, fingers trailing through soft brown hair. "Mia saĝa princo," she sighs.
The Brave Princess and her Scholar Prince. A new chapter in the long-running story first told by her Uncle Mac, long ago.
Their lips meet, warm and inviting at first yet swiftly turning heated and passionate. A burst of laughter from across the firepit makes Becky pull away, a blush tinting her pale cheeks. "Maybe we shouldn't be doing this in public."
"I don't mind." Daniel surges forward to take her lips again, threading his hands through her hair as the kiss deepens. With a faint moan she surrenders.
"Oh for crying out loud, you two. Get a room, already!"
Becky smirks across the fire at Jack. "You're one to talk, seeing as how you and Sam are so cozily entwined."
He grins at his niece, running a slow hand down his wife's back, who sleepily murmurs her approval. "That's why I know what I'm talking about. Time for bed, kids. Big day tomorrow. Trade negotiations, remember? I need my linguists well-rested."
Daniel stands fluidly, pulling Becky up beside him. "Shall we follow your uncle's orders?"
She raises an eyebrow. "When have you ever before now?"
"Don't you start. Sometimes you're too much like him for comfort."
"But you gotta admit I'm much cuter. Shorter, too."
He chuckles, pushing up her glasses with a finger. "That you are. Let's get out of here."
She loves the way his hand rests gently on the small of her back as they bid everyone goodnight. The way he casually threads his fingers with hers as they head home. The way he still bends his head to listen to her speak, just like in Seattle. The way they alternate between long extensive conversations and moments of meaningful silence, both easily understood either way.
How lucky they are, to have found love between the end of one world and the beginning of another.
As they reach their front door Becky stops, looks up at the night sky. "The stars seem so far away yet so close at the same time. Beautiful, isn't it?"
"Yeah, it is." He unlocks the door, but first leads her to a wicker chair on the front porch. "And so are you, karulo."
Sweetheart. Daniel makes such a caress of the Esperanto endearment it makes her weak in the knees.
At his invitation she sits on his lap, reveling in the strong arms, the broad shoulders, the long clever fingers making circles over the small of her back. How he holds her so tightly, yet so gently against him. The sheer amount of masculine desire lurking in his beautiful blue eyes.
Desire for her.
They kiss for long minutes. "Vi estas ĉio, kara," she whispers as they come up for air, foreheads touching. "Ĉiam kaj eterne."
"Everything, beloved. Always and forever," he agrees, tenderly pushing her hair back from her face.
"You know," she murmurs as he nuzzles her neck, "Allia's at the babysitter's overnight." Allia Sharon, two years old and already speaking at least four languages, just as precocious as her parents. Her father's pride and her mother's joy.
"Driving him crazy, no doubt," he chuckles. "Poor Walter."
"Which means," she continues, toying with the buttons on his shirt, "we have the house all to ourselves until the morning..." She gives him a coy look over the rim of her glasses.
"Do we now." Daniel says, giving her a smirk worthy of one Jack O'Neill. "You wouldn't happen to have any ideas how to pass the time, would you?"
"Well, we could always read. But if you really want to know..."
"Oh, I do. Believe me." He nips playfully at her neck.
Becky leans in close, lips barely touching his ear. His eyes widen at her deliciously dirty whispered suggestions. In Esperanto, no less.
She pulls away, noting with a sense of triumph the flush on his cheeks, the blown pupils, the full lips parted open in surprise. Rendering her husband speechless has been one of the most worthwhile goals in her life. She's been able to achieve it several times so far, to their mutual satisfaction.
"Do you require a translation, Dr. Jackson?" she asks, pushing his glasses up and smiling innocently.
His answer is swift and immediate, crushing her mouth to his. "My dear Dr. Grahme," he purrs in a husky voice, dripping with sensuality. "I think we should take this conference inside before the night watch arrests us for public indecency. For I fully intend to follow your suggestions. To. The. Letter," punctuating each of the last three words with a kiss.
"Oh raven," she giggles as he lifts her easily, carrying her into their house and shutting the door behind them. "You say the sweetest things..."
Looking back years later Becky's sure that's when the twins were conceived, on that Arrival Day eve. The perfect end to a delightful picnic, the soft Midsummer night, the warmth and comfort of friends and family. The true bliss shared as partners, friends and life companions.
This is one memory she keeps in her heart and mind forever.
Esperanto words and phrases courtesy of Google Translate.