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Even though he knew that no-one was home, that no-one could possibly
be at home, Jack found himself holding his breath slightly as he
opened the door to Martin's apartment. That kind of feeling was why
he'd dismissed the airman who'd been sent to meet them with a spare
set of keys - they needed to do this, but alone. Jack could feel
Daniel's presence behind him, hear the hurried breaths that the other
man took as he tried to keep calm.
"If you don't want to do this, Daniel, I'll understand." "No." Daniel's voice was more resolute than his expression. "If he had anything of mine, anything about me, I want to know." "Okay." Swinging the door open wider, Jack walked in, scanning the apartment with assessing eyes. He hadn't exactly lied to Hammond, about the likelihood of Martin having sensitive material, things relating to the SGC, in his apartment, but he hadn't mentioned that he'd be bringing Daniel with him on his mission either. Sadly, this wasn't the first time he had scoured a recently-dead colleague's apartment for sensitive material, even if the circumstances otherwise were a little more unusual. The last time, it had been the apartment of the very man who accompanied him now, thought dead on another planet - Jack's heart started to beat faster as he remembered the lies that Nem had implanted in his mind, and turned looking for reassurance of the truth and finding Daniel standing by the mantelpiece. In a few short strides, Jack had crossed over to his side, to see what held him so entranced. Even as he reached Daniel, the other man had picked up a photograph that stood there, his long fingers caressing the cool metal frame that held it. "That was you?" In some ways, Jack could tell at first glance that the two men were Martin and Daniel. There was the same slightly dishevelled look to the younger of the two men, the look of someone who wasn't quite comfortable at being photographed, but it was what was lacking in the picture that was most apparent. At first glance, it seemed a straightforward portrait of two friends, but there was something stiff in the way Daniel stood, something that spoke of more than a dislike of being there, more a dislike of being anywhere near the other man. Feeling his hand shake slightly, Jack reached across and took the photo from Daniel, expecting no resistance and getting none. He studied the picture more closely, crossing over to the window and away from where Daniel still stood. "You look..." "Young?" Daniel prompted from close by, making Jack jump slightly. "I was going to say you look uncomfortable, but young works as well." "I remember that photo being taken," Daniel continued. "A couple of weeks later I was in hospital." "Let's get this over with as fast as we can, okay? And then we can get on with the rest of our lives..." "Our lives?" Daniel asked, smiling. "Isn't that somewhat presumptious?" "I... Let's just do this and then go over to my place," Jack said, marvelling at how much confidence he had managed to put into the words, considering how nervous he felt. "Okay."
A systematic search of Martin's apartment had revealed nothing obvious. Jack hoped that Daniel hadn't noticed him slip the photo he had been examining earlier from its frame, secreting it in a side pocket. Whatever else, he would have that glimpse of a Daniel from the past, uncomfortable as he looked - that was a part of Daniel, like Charlie was a part of him, and shouldn't be forgotten. Jack was standing by the table, sorting through a pile of papers and separating those that clearly belonged to the USAF, when Daniel's gasp alerted him to a discovery. Turning, he was only in time to see a glimpse of flesh and movement on the TV screen, before the screen turned to snow as Daniel hastily turned the VCR off. Daniel glanced in Jack's direction, his face reddening at whatever he had seen there and the possibility of Jack having seen it too, whatever it was that Martin had captured him in the middle of. "It's yours, Daniel," Jack said, turning back to the papers once more. When he looked back, after a moment, the TV screen was dark and Daniel had walked away from it. He was gazing out of the window now, his shoulders no longer tense. It was over, at last, it seemed.
Daniel glanced across at Jack, his gaze skimming the rows of ribbons on Jack's dress blues before rising to his solemn face. How many times, Daniel wondered, had Jack been through this? How many remembrances of comrades lost in circumstances no-one could talk about? Jack's face was set, a little too calm, covering a world of guilt and worry - Daniel knew that the calmness he saw there was only superficial, emotions waiting in the shallows to trap the unsuspecting. He had not been to many of these occasions, their solid ranks of dress uniforms marking him as even more of an outsider than he already felt himself to be; not part of the illuminati, still mystified by the rituals even as he tried to understand them. Kawalsky's had been the first memorial service to be held in the reconstituted SGC - unsure of his place and even more unsure of his welcome, Daniel had chosen to stay away. He had preferred to remember Charlie Kawalsky as he'd been on Abydos, smiling from the midst of a group of children, rather than the haunted-looking man he had spoken to in the infirmary. The next memorial service he had known of, if only after the event, had been his own - for obvious reasons, he had not attended that one either. What had Jack looked like that day? That was a question Daniel had never asked, barely allowing himself to even contemplate it. He had seen the shadows of the pain Jack bore, hidden more or less effectively by the professional facade, but long acquaintance had taught Daniel that there was so much more to Jack than that. He didn't like to consider it much - Daniel had discovered that particular train of thought generally led to the tables being turned by his own wayward psyche. He didn't want to think himself into Jack's place, forced to turn private grief into public spectacle.
Jack took off the jacket of his dress blues after the memorial service was over, loosening his tie with one hand as he headed down the corridor away from the 'Gate room. He'd always hated the formality of it all. Memorial services never got any easier, no matter how many he attended, even if they were for someone he'd rather not remember at all. Daniel had slipped away at the end, his position close to the door allowing him to make a swift exit. Jack wondered if he had deliberately arrived late, in order to ensure he didn't have to stand any closer. So that no-one would see his face when the eulogy was given by General Hammond, or know the words Hammond spoke about Martin's character for the lies Jack had discovered them to be. SG-6 had been somber, their faces unreadable as they waited for it all to be over. And, just like the last memorial service Jack had been to, one for the very man that he was now looking for, there had been no-one to receive the flag at the end of it all. Too many similarities to last time. Even though months had passed since he'd stood in this same place speaking the eulogy for Daniel, he remembered it like it was yesterday. The empty feeling that it had left inside himself was something Jack wasn't going to forget in a hurry. No body to bury, no-one to receive the flag, no-one for Hammond to write to and advise of their loved one's death. Except that no-one, it seemed, would mourn Martin's death the way Daniel had been mourned. Certainly not the way he had mourned Daniel. And Martin wouldn't be coming back. So, it wasn't all doom and gloom. First stop, the messhall. And there was Daniel, sitting alone at a table, nursing a cup of coffee like he expected someone to come and take it away from him. They could try, Jack decided, looking at the way Daniel was almost visibly bristling with tension, but how far would they get? He took the chair opposite, hanging his jacket over the back and pulling his tie off fully now. "You okay?" Jack asked, desperate for something to say, no matter how inane it might sound. He was suddenly conscious of the way he was pulling his tie through his fingers, fingers moving over the material like it was a rosary. "Dumb question, I know." Daniel just looked at him, for once lost for words. "Come over to my place," Jack continued, looking down at his hands. "Later." There was silence, moments that seemed to stretch into eternity. Jack was conscious of every movement, every breath, every thought. "About 8?" Daniel asked, finally. "Sure," Jack replied, impressed by the way he managed to mask his own pleasure at Daniel's acceptance in the bland tone of his words. "See you later."
It wasn't unusual for Carter to be sitting down over coffee with Dr. Fraiser, sharing companionable silence in her office as Janet pored over charts or toiled through paperwork. Except normally Carter didn't have something to ask her, something that lay coiled inside her as if it would change the universe forever if she spoke the words. At the moment Janet seemed oblivious, running her pen down a long list of items on an inventory, but that would be over soon. Sooner than she wanted, Janet's eyes would turn to her and she would be forced to say the words, allow the possibility to be real, admit that something more than wrong had been going on here, in the SGC. That thought made her stomach turn a little, wondering just what else she had turned a blind eye to over the months she'd been here. It couldn't just be about Forrest and her C.O., could it? It would be comforting for that to be an aberration, for the darkness that she believed Forrest had lived through to be something unique. But what if it wasn't? Carter knew enough already about, what had she called it when Hanson finally went over the edge? Oh yeah, 'the lunatic fringe'. Her experience with Jonas should have made her more perceptive. Had it, Carter wondered, also made her less willing to consider the possibilities? More determined to protect herself from seeing what went on around her? Janet came to the end of her paperwork and put down her pen, reaching for her coffee. She took a long mouthful, clearly savouring the flavour, then put the cup back down again. Then she turned to Carter, who found herself beginning to speak. The words were hesitant at first, because they were words she never wanted to speak. Conclusions she'd drawn from her observations, the things Forrest hadn't said and the tone of her silences as much as the words themselves. All the words pulling Carter towards one inevitable conclusion, no matter how much she hated the possibility she could be right. The shocked expression on Janet's face told her everything she needed to know, was all the confirmation Carter required. Janet hadn't suspected either, it seemed. Not till now, when there was little that could be done.
It had seemed such a good idea at the time. The two men had spent enough time in each other's company, visiting each other's homes, that it seemed a natural extension of things for this next step to take place on familiar ground. But even so, as Jack motioned to Daniel to go into the living room, he could see the momentary flash of uncertainty that chased itself across the archaeologist's face. He knew the feeling — there was little that either of them could do to make this next step less nerve- wracking for both of them to take. Having filled the coffee machine, Jack headed back into the living room. As he had expected, Daniel was pacing, his feet measuring the rug as he headed back and forth, back and forth. "Daniel," Jack said quietly, as he sat on the couch. Even he was feeling it now, as if the nervousness that Daniel was feeling was contagious. Jack found to his surprise that he was just perching on the edge of the couch and tried to settle back into its depths. However, after a moment it overwhelmed him and he struggled back to his former position, uncomfortable as it was. "Come sit down before you wear your way through to the cellar." Jack's words were calm, so calm that he was proud of them. Daniel started guiltily as their meaning sunk in, coming over to hover a little uncertainly by the couch. Smiling up at the other man, Jack edged across the cushions, heading towards one of the sides. Was it caution or concern that made him give Daniel as much room as possible? He watched Daniel carefully as the other man finally sat. The expression on Daniel's face reminded him of a natural history program he had seen once. The same expression that he saw on the face of his friend, he had seen on the face of a rabbit, just before a particularly large and nasty looking snake pounced on it. Am I that scary? Jack wondered, as he tried to smile. Or do I just look that hungry? The smile seemed to have the effect he had sought — Daniel relaxed visibly. "Are you sure about all of this, Jack?" Daniel asked, his tongue flicking out across his lower lip. "I mean, if you've changed your mind...." "I've never been more sure about anything." Jack edged back closer as he spoke, making the movement as slow as he could manage. "You okay, Daniel?" "I really don't know what I am at the moment." Daniel's eyes widened slightly as he watched the colonel inching nearer to him. "'Cause if you're not..." Jack began, his hand coming up to tentatively touch Daniel's face. From the slightest contact, his fingertips brushing against Daniel's skin, Jack could feel the tremors that were shaking his friend, feel him swallow nervously as his eyes grew yet wider. I could fall into those eyes and drown, Jack thought, marvelling at the desire he saw there. "I'm sure." Daniel moved suddenly, leaning forward and wrapping his hand gently round the back of Jack's head, pulling Jack closer until they were almost touching. Jack could feel Daniel's breath on his face, and the sudden intimacy sent shivers down his spine, as well as blood rushing to his groin. For a moment, the two men seemed frozen in time, staring into each other's eyes, passion passing between the brown and the blue. Then Jack broke the moment. With a groan of need, he pressed forward, capturing Daniel's mouth with his own, all his months of longing focussed on that one contact. He felt Daniel's fingers tighten reflexively into his scalp, his other hand coming around to wrap itself round Jack's shoulders as the kiss continued. It was all Jack had hoped for, had dreamed of, and more. All those fantasies had been a poor preparation for actually kissing Daniel, sharing this experience with a willing partner, one made of flesh and blood. The best he had been able to imagine was compliance, but this was active participation, Daniel's tongue jousting with his own, making its own exploration of his mouth. He could feel the warmth pooling in Daniel's groin as well as his own, the material of the cotton trousers both were wearing no barrier to the life that was developing there. Jack's hands travelled across Daniel's back, seeking their way downwards, until they finally gained access to his back, moving easily up under the T-shirt the archaeologist was wearing. The minute tremors that had been shaking Daniel before seemed amplified now, echoing down Jack's fingers, travelling up his arms and into his brain. He was lost, swept away by a passion greater than he had dared to dream about, lost in uncharted waters. And he didn't care at all. After a little while, their mutual need for oxygen forced them apart, their embrace still unbroken. Jack felt Daniel's lips travel gently across his neck, skimming their way up to the skin behind his ear, and was astonished to hear himself groan with pleasure. A small chuckle escaped Daniel, echoing its way through Jack, repeated when Jack groaned again, deeper this time. Their lips met again, with less vigor this time but equal passion. "Danny," Jack groaned. He felt Daniel's body tense beneath his hand and pulled back slightly. "I'm sorry," he breathed, "that was what he called you, wasn't it?" Daniel nodded, his eyes glistening slightly with the force of the memories that had rushed back upon him. "I don't want to hurt you, Daniel, I never want to do that." "I know," Daniel replied. "And if you want to call me Danny, that's okay. Better than okay, in fact..." "You sure?" "I want it to be your voice I hear calling me Danny, not his." "I think I can manage that," Jack replied. "There are so many things I want us to do together, Danny." "Well, I hope you made a list, Jack," Daniel said, with a smile. "Because I intend to make sure we try them all."
Waking up together the next morning had been a revelation for both of them. How many times had Jack seen Daniel dishevelled and half- asleep? He'd lost count years ago. But this morning, it seemed as though a weight had fallen from Daniel's shoulders - he seemed alive again, full of energy once more, in a way that Jack realised now that he hadn't seen since Martin had arrived. And even if all they had done the previous night was go to bed together, that had been enough. There would be time for things to develop between them now, if only they didn't ruin it all by going too quickly. As he stood by the window, drinking his first coffee of the day, Jack thought back over the events of the past couple of weeks. Why had it taken him so long to figure out what was happening between the two of them? If he had been quicker off the mark, then Daniel would have been spared the humiliation he had been forced to endure at the hands of the other man. Jack frowned. "It's not your fault, Jack." "When did you take up mind-reading as a hobby?" Jack asked, without turning round. "Like I need to, where you're concerned?" "You saying I'm that easy to read?" Even as he spoke, Jack could feel Daniel come closer to him, the warmth against his back as Daniel tentatively came up to embrace him from behind, long arms wrapping round him slowly as if afraid he would be pushed away. Does he really think I'd do that? Jack wondered, feeling his anger towards Martin flare up once more. "If I can learn 23 languages," Daniel said, resting his chin on Jack's shoulder, "I can learn to decipher one Jack O'Neill." "Yeah?" "All it takes," Daniel continued, quietly, "is patience and a little incentive."
It was nothing unusual for the two of them to drive into work together. There had been countless nights when Daniel had stayed over at Jack's place, or Teal'c had stayed with Daniel. Nothing to remark upon at all. So why did this feel so different now? Jack chanced a glance across at Daniel as they drove into road leading directly to the SGC. He smiled to himself when he realised that Daniel had actually fallen asleep once more, his face pressed firmly against the glass of the window. Jack reached across to shake Daniel awake as they pulled up at the checkpoint. "Wha..?" "We're here, Daniel. Don't tell me you left your ID behind, please. Remember how long it took for me to talk Security into letting you into the base last time?" Jack's smile grew as he watched Daniel rummage through his pockets for the item in question, his frown growing deeper as he did so. After what seemed like minutes, Daniel smiled, producing the ID card and passing it over. Jack felt his heart lurch. You got it bad, O'Neill, he said to himself. Like that's a problem...?
Daniel found himself staring at the telephone, willing it to ring. He had given up any pretense of working a while back, his mind unwilling to co-operate with anything that he wanted it to do. All he could think about was the previous evening, how perfect it had been, how terrified he was that he was going to mess everything up between them. After all, it was not like Jack was at the head of a long list of friends. The itinerant nature of his life had meant that Daniel had lost track of so many people he held dear at one time or another, and he had always considered it to be a natural part of life. All this was new, unexplored territory, daunting even for a seasoned traveller like himself. He had been half in love with Jack O'Neill for so long that he felt now like he had been given an unexpected present, one that he was almost afraid to touch he valued it so much. He had to get out of here, talk with someone before he went completely crazy, thoughts running round inside his head like rats in a wheel. After a moment's thought, he reached for the phone himself, dialling a familiar number.
He hated every moment of it, but it was necessary. In some ways, that was Jack's mantra as he went through his report from the ill- fated mission with SG-6 once more. Necessary. He had to do this. He had to protect Daniel, no matter what. Ruthlessly, Jack stifled the small voice that insisted on asking what would happen if Hammond ever found out the truth. And how is that going to happen? Jack asked himself. There were only 3 people in that clearing - 2 of them aren't talking and the other one isn't around to argue the case... Not that this particular fact made it any more easy to lie to Hammond's face. Especially when Jack had so much respect for the general, for the calm way Hammond always put the welfare of 'his' people first. For the way the general had of using whatever influence he had to make sure things were done the right way, even when that conflicted with what would be good military practice. But what choice did Jack have? Some secrets were no longer his alone to share. His only concern was Daniel - would this secret they shared push them closer together or would it ultimately drive them apart?
"I am glad to see you well, DanielJackson," Teal'c said, getting up as Daniel entered his quarters. "It's good to see you too, Teal'c." Daniel glanced round, taking a deep breath as he did so. There was something so calming about being in this room, something about the candles, maybe, that turned Teal'c's quarters from a dreary concrete box into a place of tranquillity and peace. "We have not spoken in some time." "I guess not," Daniel said, taking a seat. He watched as Teal'c regained his seat on the floor, folding his deceptively large body into a comfortable lotus position. "Not since the mission with SG-6," Teal'c continued, his dark perceptive eyes resting on Daniel's face. Taking another breath, Daniel forced himself to stay calm. No-one else can know about Martin, he thought sadly. Not even Teal'c or Sam. "That was a nightmare, wasn't it?" Teal'c's eyebrow rose in silent question. "It was hard for SG-6 to lose their new CO that way, though." Had he managed it? Had his voice remained stable all through that seemingly innocuous statement? Teal'c nodded. "I do not think he will be missed." "I guess he wasn't really here long enough to make an impression on anyone," Daniel agreed, trying not to laugh hysterically. Did Teal'c know? How could he? "It is not a matter of time, DanielJackson," Teal'c said solemnly, his eyes closing, "it is a matter of the person concerned."
"Teal'c knows." Daniel's voice shook slightly, the worry in it alone enough to make Jack want to grab the other man before he fell apart completely. "He can't know." "I'm telling you, Jack, he knows." Jack crossed the small space that comprised his office, brushing past Daniel on his way to the door. He locked it, resting his back on the cool metal as he faced Daniel once more. "This is Teal'c we're talking about, Daniel. Even if he suspects that what I told Hammond isn't the exact truth, there is no way he will tell the general anything." "But..." "Daniel, you know this." After a moment, Daniel nodded, a terse movement. "We can't ever tell anyone, can we?" Daniel asked, after a moment. "Not even Sam or Teal'c." Jack sighed, resting his head back against the door. He had been wondering how long it would take Daniel to figure out that they were alone together in this particular mess, without even the promise of the rest of SG-1 to bail them out. It had taken a little longer than he had anticipated, but Daniel had got there in the end. "No," he agreed, "not even Carter or Teal'c. We can't make them lie for us, Daniel, it wouldn't be right." "For us?" Daniel asked, frowning. "But I was the one who..." "We're in this together, Daniel. From the moment I filed my report with Hammond, we were in this together. Now trust me, keep calm, and we'll get through this."
This time, they were at Daniel's place. Even as they walked in the door, Jack could see Daniel's nervousness increase, clear in the way that he moved around, between the living room and kitchen, never really able to settle. "Pizza okay with you, Daniel?" Jack asked, one hand on Daniel's chest halting him in mid-patrol to make his enquiry. "Sure." Turning to the phone, Jack ordered dinner, one eye still on Daniel as he did so. They had eaten together so often that they knew each other's preferences, so it wasn't something he needed too much concentration for. There was something about him being here, Jack realised, that was making Daniel edgy, despite how commonplace an event that was. It had to be related to the revelations of the afternoon, the realisation that they were in this together, with no-one else to rely on. Jack accepted the beer Daniel offered him with a smile, which dwindled as he saw Daniel make another detour into the kitchen for something or other. This has got to stop, Daniel. "Why don't you come sit down?" Jack asked, pitching his voice so it would carry into the other room. "What?" "You've been in and out of the kitchen since we got here - anyone would think you didn't want to be alone with me, Daniel. I could get some kind of complex." There was silence for a moment, then Daniel came in, clutching a couple of plates and a beer, all of which he deposited on the coffee table. "Just trying to get organised." "Yeah?" Daniel retrieved his beer, taking a seat at the other end of the sofa, kicking off his shoes as he did so. He curled his feet under himself, turning till he was facing Jack, his back against the arm of the couch. "Not avoiding you, Jack, honest," he said, with a smile. "So," Jack began, after a mouthful of beer, "no making out till after the pizza arrives?" Jack smiled as Daniel almost spat out his mouthful of beer. "Jack..." "Hey, it's just a question." "Food first, fooling about later," Daniel replied, saluting Jack with his beer. "Now there's a plan I can go for."
"What do you want from me?" Daniel's voice was a whisper as his hand snaked across Jack's stomach, fingers coming down to rest on his belt buckle. Jack suppressed a groan of need as he felt Daniel's hot breath on his neck, the way that the other man's movements was making him press against the constriction of his jeans. "I..." Jack swallowed, trying to articulate the words, but not knowing if he could. He knew what he wanted from Daniel, had known it ever since he walked in on Daniel with Martin, but it was a guilty torment to him. How could he ask Daniel to do that? "Let me help you out there," Daniel muttered, his hand coming to rest on Jack's fly, agile fingers popping out the buttons one by one. "Daniel..." "Tell me what you want, Jack." "Please." He felt Daniel's hand slip inside, long fingers coming to wrap themselves knowingly around him. Jack arched into the movement, feeling the grip tighten slightly, and blessed the fact that he had decided to go commando. Daniel's other hand was shoving gently at the waistband of Jack's jeans, pushing the heavy material down over his hips for better access, his fingers sliding in a caress over the skin of Jack's ass. "I know what you want," Daniel breathed. Jack shuddered, guilty pleasure at the thought of Daniel kneeling before him crackling through his senses like wildfire. Daniel's fingers trailed across the small of Jack's back as he circled him, his other hand still gripping gently, his thumb stroking the sensitive underside. Jack closed his eyes, screwing them up as he tried not to submit to the desire to open them. If Daniel was there, kneeling, he wasn't sure there was any way he could hold back. Then nothing. He could still feel Daniel's hand wrapped round him, the warm and gentle grasp of his fingers, but other than that nothing. Opening his eyes, Jack risked a glance downwards to see Daniel kneeling there, as if mesmerised. One hand was still holding Jack's length in a firm grip, the other resting where his pants were hanging crumpled around his hips, but Daniel was not moving. "Daniel?" Jack heard the alarm in his voice, the concern. His hand came forward from where he had been clutching the edge of the kitchen counter, to cover Daniel's, feeling his own heat and the relative coolness of Daniel's skin. He could feel Daniel shudder slightly. "This... this was a bad idea," Jack said, as soon as he could speak coherently. He could feel himself begin to soften within Daniel's grip, even as he tried to pry Daniel's fingers gently away. "Another time..." "I have to do this," Daniel muttered, looking up at him for the first time since he had frozen in place. "I have to get past this, Jack." "It's not a competition." Jack pasted on a smile, using the grip on Daniel's hand to encourage him to his feet. "There's time, isn't there?" Daniel's eyes were bright with emotion, Jack realised, as he brought his free hand up to stroke Daniel's face. "I thought I could do this, Jack. I'm sorry." "Don't be." Jack stifled the anger he felt, knowing that another appointment with the heavy bag at the gym was beckoning, even as he stroked Daniel's hair and the other man wept.
This is dumb. He'd seen the expression on Jack's face when he had walked into his office that time, interrupting Daniel as he was about to go down on Martin. It had taken a while to interpret that expression correctly - not realising that Jack was halfway in love with him already - but he'd got there in the end. Whatever it was about the concept of being sucked off by Daniel the same way, it pushed every button Jack had and then some. This is so dumb, Daniel thought. I could do it for someone I was afraid of, but can't do it for Jack? Watching Jack walk away, down the featureless corridors of the SGC, Daniel could feel the guilt start to grow inside him. What must Jack think of me? The truth was that they were tied together now by a lie, something that bound them more securely to each other than he had ever wanted. Jack had risked his career by lying to Hammond about the way Martin had died, and he had done it only to protect him. And I can't even give him what he wants. What if I can never do that? Jack deserves better.
It didn't take a PhD to realise there was something wrong with Daniel. Jack had swung by Daniel's office, planning to sweep him away for a little food and a lot of fooling around, only to see that the walls around the archaeologist were back, this time higher than ever. "Ready to go, Daniel?" "I have loads I need to do yet," Daniel answered, without even looking round. He had laid his pen down as he spoke and was rubbing the back of his hand, fingers tracing and retracing the same route they had when Martin had been around. Now that is not a good sign, Jack thought. "All work and no play makes Danny a very dull boy..." he began, crossing over to the side of Daniel's desk. The proximity, at least, made Daniel look up. "Humor me?" "I do that every day," Daniel said, smiling a little, at last. Gotcha! "Well, time for more practice," Jack said, making a shooing gesture towards the door. "Let's go, Daniel. This stuff'll still be here tomorrow, ya know." Reluctantly, Daniel nodded, shuffling his notes into some kind of order, before weighing them down with one of the pieces of pottery he was currently examining.
Watching the dejected slump of Daniel's shoulders as they walked towards the elevators was like looking back in time a couple of weeks. Jack frowned as he cast a sidelong glance at Daniel's face, seeing there the expressionless mask that he knew hid a mind whirring with ideas and thoughts. But it was the content of those thoughts that worried him. The way that Daniel was just going along with whatever he proposed worried Jack too. Not that Daniel wasn't usually pretty amenable to whatever half-baked scheme he came up with, let alone adding his own particular twist to it, but this was different. This was compliance, not agreement, and something about it chilled Jack to the bone. "Don't do this to me, Daniel," he said, suddenly, as they were driving down the mountainside. Daniel half-turned to look at him, briefly, before turning back and once more contemplating the lights that flickered outside in the passing darkness of the Colorado night. "You know what I'm talking about." Jack pressed on, his anger getting the better of him, not for the first time in his life. "I'm not him, so don't treat me as if I am." Even from the corner of his eye, as Jack navigated the twists and turns of the mountain roads, he could see Daniel stiffen in his seat. "You bastard." Daniel spat out the words, radiating anger. "Everything is always about you, isn't it, Jack? I can't be upset about something without it having to be about you." "And this isn't about me? About what happened last night?" Making a swift decision, Jack pulled the jeep over to the side of the road, a small part of his brain noticing that his hands were starting to shake slightly with all the anger he had been banking down all this time. "Why shouldn't I be angry, Jack? He used me." And you wanted to, was the unspoken implication, Jack realised. Jack bit back the words he wanted to say, the angry words that beat at him, desperate to escape. If he let them, he knew, then any chance that he and Daniel had of making any kind of life together would be struck dead as soon as they were uttered. "I thought you wanted to do that," Jack said, mentally slapping himself for the feebleness of that statement. "I... I wanted to prove something to myself." Daniel was staring out of the window again, looking at nothing. Or was he watching Jack's half-reflection, illuminated by the small amount of light within the cabin? "Was it what you were trying to do?" Jack paused, not wanting to ask, but at the same time desperately needing to know. "Or was it me?" Silence. Undaunted by this, or foolhardy, Jack couldn't decide which, he pressed on. "So, I could have been anyone, you just needed a test subject and I was handy." Silence. "Help me out here, Daniel, because I'm drowning in this, okay?" Daniel sighed, finally, his anger seeming to drain from him like water running away. "I just want to go home, Jack." Jack glanced across at him, seeing the dejection and pain in every line of Daniel's body. After a moment, he started the engine once more.
Jack watched Daniel walk into his apartment building - he didn't look back. He'd almost asked whether he could come up, for coffee or something, but he hadn't made it to full bird colonel without developing survival instincts. The temperature in the jeep had seemed to drop dramatically since their little discussion on the roadside and it hadn't taken a mind-reader to see that Daniel was in no mood for company. Jack rested his head on the cool steering wheel for a moment, marshalling his thoughts as he did so. Daniel was angry with him, he realised that, but Jack had also seen that Daniel was angry with himself, angry at his failure to give Jack what he had so clearly wanted. It was like living in the middle of a minefield. Danger at every step and no clues on how to avoid it.
Almost against his better judgement, Daniel had watched from his darkened apartment window, his eyes fixed on the shadowed shape of Jack's jeep, until it was clear that Jack had driven away. He stood by the window a few moments longer, half-watching the cars as they passed, his mind somewhere else completely. He'd behaved so badly that he'd been embarrassed to speak with Jack after they'd argued. Daniel rested his forehead on the cool glass, closing his eyes. He'd wanted to ask Jack up, to try and see if they could make this thing work between them, whatever it was, but the words had never come. And Jack had said nothing either, locked into himself and surrounded by an impenetrable wall of silence. On his own now, it seemed impossible. How could they survive this? There was no way they could ever revert to being just friends, not any more. A sudden thought struck him. What if we fall out and Jack tells Hammond the truth about what happened with Martin? The rational part of Daniel's mind knew that could never happen - Jack would find himself in equally hot water were he to turn round to Hammond and admit he had lied to the general in the first place. But that didn't stop the more paranoid part of his nature from dwelling on this thought, long past the time when his exhausted body should have been asleep.
Sleepless, Jack stared up at the darkened ceiling of his bedroom, eyes following the half-remembered cracks in the plaster as a thousand restless thoughts whirled their way through his brain. This time he had really blown it; he should have done something, said something different, but had no idea where to begin. Like he ever had any idea where he was with Daniel? That thought made Jack smile, a sad ironic grin at the stupidity of it all. He had been out of his depth with Daniel since the first moment a colder version of himself had walked into that subterranean briefing room. Maybe fate had taken things out of his hands even before then, back when he had agreed to return to work for the USAF, rather than choosing to splatter his brains across his son's bedroom wall. Jack rolled over, closing his eyes firmly and pressing the side of his face into the pillow in a determined effort to sleep. That kind of thought gets you nowhere, O'Neill. Look at what a difference you've made by being alive. There had to be a way forward for the two of them, together, or else why had he lied to Hammond? He could have saved himself, at least, this torment, by telling the general what had really happened to Martin, even if that would surely have been the end of Daniel's association with SG-1 - maybe with the SGC as a whole. It was not just the death of Martin, but the whole sorry history that existed between Martin and Daniel, the thought of which still drove a spike of fury through Jack's heart every time he even considered it. The bastard had deserved to die, had in fact been lucky to meet his fate the way he did. Jack could have thought of a dozen deaths more fitting, had he been given the opportunity.
Jack watched Daniel openly across the briefing room table, half- tuned into the scientific explanation that Carter had launched into as part of their briefing for SG-1's next mission. Her voice rolled over him as he considered ways forward - he had to talk to Daniel, somehow make things right between them. This chilly silence was more painful than he had ever thought. Daniel looked tired, dark patches under his eyes. He was doing his best to pretend attention, his pen paused over the mission report, but Daniel's eyes told anyone who knew him that his attention was elsewhere. When, finally, it was over, Hammond dismissed the team, before turning to Jack as he pushed his chair back to leave. "Colonel. A word." Jack paused, sitting again at the general's gesture as the rest of SG-1 left the briefing room. He could feel Daniel's concern sweep over him like a wave, those intelligent eyes resting on him for as long as Daniel was in the room. "Sir?" Jack pasted an expression of slight boredom on his face, as he laced his fingers together on the table's surface. He can't know, Jack told himself. It's impossible. Unless Daniel... But what would Daniel gain by telling Hammond what had really happened with Colonel Martin? It made no sense. Civilian as he was, he had to know the consequences for both of them if the truth came out now. Jack realised suddenly that Hammond was speaking and made a concerted effort to concentrate, looking into those glacial eyes. "...no idea what is wrong between you and Dr. Jackson, Colonel." Hammond paused, leaning forward slightly to emphasise his point, even though his eyes were vehement enough already. "But whatever it is, fix it. That's an order. I realise Dr. Jackson is a valuable asset to SG-1, but I'll be forced to take steps to assign him to the SGC as a permanent consultant if things don't improve dramatically between the two of you. Dismissed."
He couldn't help thinking about just what Jack and Hammond were discussing. As he headed down to his office, Daniel wondered whether his ears should be burning - he had to figure in their conversation somewhere. He'd been quiet, unresponsive, sullen even. There was no way that Hammond would miss that, no way he wouldn't be ordering Jack right now to make everything okay again. As if Jack had some kind of monopoly on dealing with him, on 'making Daniel better'. How long would it be before Jack tracked him down, Daniel wondered. Long enough for him to leave the SGC? Was it worth him going home, to make sure that this conversation he didn't want to have in the first place at least took place on his own territory? Or would that seem like an admission of guilt, somehow? Running from the past hadn't worked before, so why should Daniel think it would now? Time for work, instead, if his brain would allow him to concentrate on anything. Even if it wouldn't fully cooperate, Daniel decided, as he headed for the elevators, anything was better than turning what had happened over and over in his mind. If he couldn't control what had happened before, at least he could control something about what happened now.
Sighing to himself, Jack headed down the maze of corridors, his feet on auto-pilot as he headed for Daniel's office. Opening the door, it was hard to believe that only days before he had walked in on Daniel and Martin, setting into motion a chain of events that had led to the death of one man and the creation of a wholesale tapestry of lies. Daniel turned round from his desk to look at Jack as he heard the door open, his eyes sliding past the colonel to see whether he was alone. "No MPs?" "Daniel..." "Guess we're still in the clear then," Daniel said, turning back to what he'd been studying. Jack paused for a moment, watching Daniel, his eyes tracing the curve of the other man's shoulder where it met his neck, thinking only of how the soft skin there had felt under his fingers. "Did you want something, Jack?" Daniel asked, without turning round. "Hammond..." Jack saw Daniel's back stiffen at the name. "He knows there's a problem between us. He wants me to fix it or else." "Or else what?" "You get permanent consultant status here on base and I'll probably get to ride a desk somewhere as well. Generals have a low tolerance for people who don't follow orders." "Oh, please," Daniel sneered, turning to face Jack this time. "And how would you know that? You're not exactly Colonel By-the-book." Jack shrugged. "There's a time and a place to buck orders, Danny," Jack said, his words hurrying over each other in their anxiety to escape as he saw Daniel stiffen at the pet name. "Any soldier worth his salt learns to tell when that is. We want to carry on jaunting round the universe together, we got to play ball the way Hammond wants." Their eyes met, the scorn in Daniel's face like a blow. If Jack had ever been told that Daniel would one day look at him that way, he would have laughed till he cried. But here was the evidence, one archaeologist in an uncomfortable USAF-issue desk chair, glaring up at him with eyes cold enough to freeze him where he stood. "I'm sorry, okay?" Jack blurted out the words - they surprised him as they made their escape. Daniel frowned slightly, a tiny furrow of concentration. "You're sorry," he repeated, as if trying to decipher some alien language. Shaking his head slightly, as if puzzled, Daniel turned back to his desk then, picking up his pen. His head bowed slightly as he stared down at the parchment fragments that littered its surface. Jack watched him for a moment, unconvinced, but having no idea how to break through. It was as though they spoke different languages once more, except this time Daniel was making no effort to understand, turning his back on Jack in more ways than one.
When he heard the door close behind Jack, Daniel let out the breath he had been holding, the only way he knew to hold himself together. He'd planned to apologise, searching his mind for words that would build some sort of bridge between the two of them, but the moment Jack had appeared that intention had disappeared like mist. He'd thought it was all over, that Jack had been sent by Hammond to lock him up, pending whatever legal sanction he would face for the death of Martin. Had he truly believed that Jack had cut some sort of deal? That he could somehow look to save himself, no matter what the cost? Put like that, examined objectively, those thoughts seemed idiotic. There might be people who would behave like that out there, but there was no way that Jack was one of them. Their secret would live and die with him. And in the mean time? In the mean time, he couldn't live like this. After all, it wasn't as if Daniel could afford to throw everything away, to draw attention to the two of them in the way he had been doing. Although he knew General Hammond to be a perceptive man, someone experienced at judging the mood of a team, he was not the only one who might suspect something was going on. And they couldn't afford that sort of suspicion, for both their sakes. They had to give at least the appearance of normality, of friendship tempered in the fires of all they had experienced together, a camouflage to protect them from the truth.
He managed to make it through the day, processing the kind of paperwork he had always hated, the kind he had hoped promotion would free him from, only to discover that this was anything but the case. Scrawling his signature on the last document, Jack pushed his chair back, clicking off the desk light as he stood. As he walked to the elevator, Jack thought about approaching Daniel once more, then dismissed the idea. Maybe Daniel needed more time to come to terms with the death of Martin than he had thought - maybe the problem was that Jack had let things go on too fast between them, letting his libido override his common sense, not for the first time in his life. He should have known Daniel wasn't really ready for what he was offering to do, should have said something before it was too late. Just as the elevator doors were beginning to close, Daniel stepped in to the crowded car. There were a number of people between them, but Jack still knew that Daniel was watching him intently, trying to judge his current mood. Changing elevators, to take the one to the surface, this time Jack found that they were standing next to one another. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack could see Daniel fidgeting slightly as he stood there, his usual impatience warring with the lengthy ascent. Once past the security checkpoint, Jack waited by Daniel's car, where he watched him cross the expanse of the carpark, the expression on his face one of clear uncertainty. "Your place or mine?" Jack expected some kind of disagreement, some argument that there was nothing to say, but instead Daniel just nodded. "Mine," he replied.
Jack followed Daniel's car down the mountain road, wondering if this was any sort of a good idea at all. The last time they had been truly alone together had been disastrous, no-one could argue that - if it had not been for their former friendship, it was unlikely that the two of them would still be speaking to one another. By the time he made it up the stairs to Daniel's apartment, he was already having doubts, wondering if this was going to be yet another in the lengthy list of mistakes that characterised his life to date. The door was standing slightly ajar. "Daniel?" Jack called out, as he stepped into the apartment. "In the kitchen." Closing the door behind him, Jack surveyed Daniel's apartment. Somehow, Daniel's place was somewhere he never got tired of being - there was always something he hadn't seen before every time he came here. Or at least that was how it seemed. How Daniel had managed to acquire half the stuff that cluttered the shelves and wall-space, Jack had yet to figure out. All he could think was that the stuff had gone into storage when Daniel had been evicted from his apartment, before Catherine had persuaded him to join the SGC, and that it had taken him a while to get it all back and unpacked. By the time Daniel came out of the kitchen, clutching two mugs of coffee like a shield, Jack was working his way across the titles on the bookshelf, noting the new additions automatically. "Jack?" Daniel was watching him, caution and concern warring for dominance in his expression. He held out a mug of coffee. Jack crossed the small distance between them, taking the mug from Daniel's grasp and then retreated to the window, almost feeling Daniel relax as the space between them grew. He rested his butt on the window ledge, taking a cautious sip of the coffee and watching as Daniel crossed to a chair and sat. "We're stuck together, aren't we?" Daniel asked, suddenly. "Jesus, Daniel, you make it sound like a prison sentence!" Daniel paused a moment before replying, his eyes solemn. "Our continued working relationship is founded on a lie, Jack, one where neither of us can ever tell the complete truth to the people we're closest to on this planet. How much worse could being in prison be?" Jack bit back the immediate response that almost made it out before he thought. There were things about his own life, no matter how much he trusted and cared for Daniel that he would ensure that the other man would never discover. "We have to make things work between us, Daniel. Not for our own protection, not because Hammond wants us to, but because they should." Daniel nodded, his gaze intent on the mug he cradled in his hands. Jack's eyes followed Daniel's gaze, his traitorous memory reminding him how those agile fingers had felt on his flesh, how close he had come to getting exactly what he wanted from Daniel. "Can we start over?" Jack asked, wrenching his mind back to the matter in hand. Daniel looked up at the question, frowning. "Pretend last night didn't happen, go slower, that sort of thing." "I'd like that. And earlier." Jack looked at Daniel, puzzled. "I wanted to apologise for what I did, but the words just didn't come. I... I want this as well."
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| Concluded in part 4... | |