Chapter 1: Let me call you sweetheart….
“Jack?” Daniel’s voice calls from the front door. Crap. Tonight he has to be on time. “Sam said you left early. Are you okay?” Daniel’s voice trails off as I hustle down the hall. I stumble into the dining room to find Daniel staring at the table. Which has an actual tablecloth not to mention the good dishes. And candles. But no flowers. I draw the line at flowers. Daniel turns his bewildered stare on me.
“I can explain,” I offer. Daniel just nods slowly. “It’s for dinner.”
“So I surmised,” Daniel says dryly. “Why?”
“It’s supposed to be…er, romantic.”
“Okay,” Daniel says cautiously as he looks around the room. “Just tell me where the pods are and no one has to get hurt.”
“Damn it, Daniel!” I don’t really blame him. I’d probably…. Okay, I’d definitely have the same reaction. “I was just trying to do something special for your birthday. And thank you so much for not feeding my obviously over-inflated ego by being the least bit appreciative.” Daniel eyes me warily. His expression grows concerned as he takes in my sulky countenance.
“I’m sorry, Jack. You just caught me completely off guard.” Daniel makes a valiant attempt to kiss it better. Gonna take more than that, big guy. A lot more. And a little lower…. “This is really, really very….”
“Pathetic would be the word you’re looking for,” I grumble.
“No,” he says firmly. “Touching. I’m touched.”
“In the head.”
“Fuck you, too, Jack,” Daniel says mildly. He stares at the table again, still trying to process the strange and unexpected sight. “Romantic?” he questions.
“I can do romantic.”
“Of course you can,” he says with a notable lack of sincerity. “And my birthday was weeks ago.”
“We kind of missed it.” We were somewhat otherwise occupied with being prisoners. “Besides, it was either this or flowers.” Daniel bristles at that suggestion. “I decided flowers weren’t really an option.” Daniel relaxes again. This is too easy. “On account of your allergies.”
“Jack, you remember that talk we had about being sappy?” Daniel asks coolly. I nod. How could I forget? It was our first time. For sex, that is. God knows it wasn’t the first time for talking. “Flowers are sappy. Don’t make me kick your ass.”
“As I remember it, there was a lot more licking than kicking.”
“A temporary psychotic state brought on by lack of sleep, over-work, and years of unrequited lust,” he snaps. “Trust me—it won’t happen again.”
“Would you cut me some slack? I’m trying to be nice here.”
“Don’t strain yourself.”
“I’m really not in the mood for this,” I say testily. Been feeling like a complete idiot all afternoon. Carter swore romancing Daniel was the way to go. Why do I listen to Carter? I mean, I KNOW her track record vis-a-vis relationships.
“That’s too bad because I, um…I am.” Daniel blushes deeply the second the words leave his mouth. Daniel hasn’t been in the mood since meeting up with that bitch snake, Osiris. There’s been some necking and the occasional moment of petting but he hasn’t been up for the…uh…whole enchilada.
“Oh,” I say intelligently.
“Do you have food to go with this?” Daniel asks hurriedly, gesturing at the table and refusing to look me in the eye. “Cause I could eat.”
“Sure. Just a sec.” I head for the kitchen. I’m not such a Neanderthal that I’m not willing to give him a moment to reconsider his mood. As I shuttle the food to the table I notice Daniel has lit the candles. I’m taking that as a sign that he’s not too perturbed by my detour into sap. Finally we sit down and dig in with more enthusiasm than finesse. Truth be told, I don’t think Daniel’s mind is on the meal. He’s shoveling it in without even tasting it. “Daniel?”
“Don’t get all protective on me,” he snaps. You know—if I push, Daniel will push right back. If I step back, he’ll just push himself. I’m afraid that’s what he’s doing now.
“Okay. It’s just…you know.” Daniel stares at me, a forkful of food halted inches from his open mouth. Shut your mouth, Daniel, it’s giving me ideas. “It’s not that I don’t want to. Because…. Well, you know.”
“You’re a slut,” he answers, finally setting his fork back down on the plate.
“No, you’re the slut. I’m the pervert,” I remind him.
“Right. Well, neither of us has exactly been living up to our reputations lately,” he says ruefully. Then he frowns. “Unless you’ve been messing with the ducks again?”
“Fuck you, Jackson.” A small but genuine smile tugs at Daniel’s lips.
“That’s a possibility,” he admits, flushing only a little this time. I open my mouth but Daniel points a finger at me. “I don’t want to talk about this.” Neither do I, but I’m supposed to. Right?
“Jack, do you want to know how you do romantic?” Daniel asks suddenly. Since I generally don’t do romantic…yes, please explain.
“Yeah, sure,” I say casually.
“You know how you hold my hand in public?” he asks. Not very public. I hold his hand for a few moments in a dark movie theater or sometimes under the table at a restaurant. And it bothers me each and every time. I hate to bust my own ass and tell him it’s not romance. It’s just what I have to do because…because he’s Daniel.
“Daniel, I only do it….”
“For me,” Daniel interrupts. “You don’t like it. It makes you uncomfortable. But you do it for me.”
“It is quite a sacrifice,” I agree. Daniel snorts and returns to his meal. “It’s also disgustingly sappy,” I complain. Because if I can get hand holding classified as sappy then I won’t have to do it any more. As the old cliché goes: all’s fair in love and war. And I never said I wasn’t devious.
“It’s not sappy,” Daniel refutes calmly. “Trust me, you do something sappy and I’ll correct you.”
“Spanking,” I toss out. Why I don’t know. “Spanking could be both correctional and romantic without being sappy.”
“Spanking?” Daniel gasps. So Carter was wrong about a little romance making Daniel all sweet and snuggly. It is, however, throwing him way off balance. Which happens to be the way I like him best.
“If you do it right,” I leer. Like I would know. Generally, getting slapped around isn’t high on my ‘to do’ list.
“No,” Daniel says bluntly. “I put up with your duck fetish, but this time…just no. Not even going there.”
“You kind of walk like a duck,” I observe. Daniel just stares at me, dumbfounded. Apparently I’m not the only one who gets whiplash from our conversations.
“Wha…? How so?” he yelps indignantly.
“You kind of waddle. Just a little.”
“I…I do not,” he protests.
“You do,” I insist. “It’s cute.”
“Cute?” Daniel chokes out even more indignantly. “I have a cute waddle?”
“Yep. Damn cute. Why do you think I always volunteer to watch your six?” Daniel sputters for a moment before dropping his head into his hands with a groan.
“You’re a very, VERY sick man,” he announces.
“Thank you. Want dessert?”
“Teal’c needs to get laid.” Daniel looks up, mouth hanging open. And empty. I gesture toward my now neglected cock. “You’re not quite finished there, you know.”
“Yeah,” I say, gesturing a little more emphatically. Daniel just sits back, kneeling between my bent legs and resting his elbows on my knees. I let my head drop back on my pillow ‘cause I’m relatively certain ‘we’ have just gone into discussion mode. The worst part is—it’s my own damn fault.
“Why are you bringing that up at this particular point in time?” he asks in a tone of voice that suggests he doesn’t think this particular point in time is particularly appropriate. Even my cock is pouting. Damn it, if I could just learn to keep my random brain farts to myself. “Is there some connection I’m missing?”
“Sex,” I say. That was blindingly obvious even to me. “As in I’m getting some. Teal’c isn’t.”
“And you’d like to help him out with that?” Daniel questions cautiously.
“Well, sure.” Daniel gets the most astonished look on his face. “Geez! Not like that.” First of all, I’ve already got the only person I want in my bed. Second, there’s a really big yuck factor where Teal’c is concerned. “Junior?”
“So you don’t want to sleep with him because he has a symbiote?” Daniel says.
“No, I don’t want to sleep with him because he’s not an over-educated, coffee addicted, duck-hating dweeb with a case of terminal motor mouth,” I snap. I refuse to play into Daniel’s occasional insecurities. Or mine for that matter. He knows this isn’t an easy, let alone practical, relationship for me. He knows the only reason I’m in it is because I love him. I’m not going to spend a lot of time making florid declarations of my undying devotion. It’s not who I am. And Daniel knows that, too. Fortunately for me, Daniel’s good at reading between the lines.
“Love you, too, asshole,” Daniel mutters. See? Daniel translates ‘Jack’ just fine.
“Then prove it,” I command. Daniel slides over on top of me and gets some full body friction going. This is more like it. And my cock is seriously considering forgiving me for interrupting its quest for gratification earlier.
“If we’re celebrating my birthday how come I’m doing all the work?” he questions as he makes himself right at home and rocks his hips in a slow sweet rhythm.
“You’re way younger,” I grunt as I rise the occasion. “And your knees still work. And your back is more flexible.”
“Jack, you talk too much.” Ha! Pot and kettle here. He grabs my head between his hands and proceeds to equalize the pressure in my ears.
“Damn, you know how to kiss.”
“I know how to do a lot more than that,” Daniel says seductively as he urges my thighs apart. I’m only too willing to cooperate. Downright eager if the truth be known. But Daniel seems a tad hesitant. Daniel generally doesn’t have issues about sex. About dominance and submission and all the other crap that can get dragged into the bedroom. But even the most well adjusted psyche is bound to stagger a little when every neurotic alien jumps his bones. So as far as I’m concerned he’s in the driver’s seat tonight.
“So…want to play hide the stela?” I ask hopefully.
“As deep in your ass as I can get it,” he says bluntly. I got no problem with that. Where do you want me? How do you want me? Not that I’m easy or anything. Daniel slides a couple of fingers deep inside and damn, but I’ve missed this. Daniel has such a look of complete and utter concentration on his face. It’s flattering…and just a little scary. Time to lighten up.
“Move it along there, Kemosabe,” I say, pushing onto his fingers even as I’m asking him to remove them. Hey, I’m horny. Don’t ask me to make sense.
“Silence,” he whispers, putting a finger of his free hand against my lips. I’d rather have something else against my lips. Like his lips. Or his cock…except that it’s getting up close and personal with another orifice. I wrap my legs around him as he sinks deep and oh, fuck, that I really, really have missed.
“Welcome home, luachmhar lacha.” And you are home—right where you should be. Daniel looks shyly pleased until his brain actually processes what I said. My grammar’s a little rusty but I remember just enough of the Gaelic vocabulary Grandpa O’Neill taught me to aggravate Daniel.
“Did you…? You…you did!” he gasps in disbelief. “Precious duck? You son of a bitch! Is nothing sacred?”
“Hockey.” He ought to know better. “Hockey’s sacred. Sex is….”
“Sex is sex,” Daniel says as he grabs my hips. “Making love is transcendent.” He plunges deeps, twists his hips just so, and all of a sudden my arms go numb and I’ve got sparks shooting through my eyeballs.
He just may be right about this transcendent thing.
“Did,” Daniel insists.
“You screamed,” he states smugly, leaning back in his chair. He’s feeling so good about making me scream last night that part of me wants to let him revel in it. The stupid part. The part containing the still reasonably functional brain cells knows that’s a very bad idea.
“Was it a high pitched, girly scream?” Carter asks as she wanders into Daniel’s office to join us. Obviously, she has no idea what we’re discussing. If she did she’d probably run from the office with a high pitched, girly scream of her own. Or maybe not. Carter’s not much of a screamer. Outside of the bedroom anyway. What she is inside the bedroom I have no idea and why the fuck did my mind just go there?
“Actually….” Daniel starts to respond to her question.
“Was not!” I snap. It was loud and technically probably qualifies as a scream. But no way in hell was it either high pitched or girly.
“Daniel,” I warn. “Later.”
“If you’re lucky,” Daniel ripostes.
“I meant the conversation,” I say with a pointed glare.
“So did I,” says Daniel, all false innocence and baby blues. “A conversation punctuated by high pitched girly screams.”
“If you’re lucky.”
“Not luck, Jack,” Daniel rebukes. “Skill.”
“Getting a little full of yourself,” I
“No, as I recall it was you that was full of me.”
“Daniel,” I hiss, shaking my head in disbelief. Daniel got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, the annoyingly smug side, and he’s been pushing the limits ever since. “Watch your mouth.”
“By all means.” The pencil that Daniel has been tapping against his lower lip quickly becomes the focus of Daniel’s not inconsiderable concentration. And his tongue. He’s giving the damn thing a blow job.
“Be good, Daniel,” I groan in frustration. He should not be doing that here. Not where people might see. And where I can’t offer him something better to blow.
“You’re always telling me to be good, follow orders, behave,” Daniel sighs theatrically. “You know what I think, Jack?” Like when have I ever known? “I think deep down you like it when I’m bad.”
“You’re bad all right. You’re going to be the death of me.”
“At least you’ll go out with a high pitched girly scream,” Daniel says philosophically. Then he raises a sly eyebrow at me. “Which is still a hell of a lot more dignified than going out with a quack.”
“I swear, Jackson, if you don’t cease and desist right now I’m going to take you over my knee and….” Oh, crap. I had to go and bring up spanking again.
“Well,” Daniel says thoughtfully. “That’s obviously been on your mind.” No, it hasn’t. I’m just an idiot with mental flatulence. “How long have you wanted to spank me?”
“Since the moment you walked into the mountain.” Which is actually true. Admittedly I wasn’t thinking of it in recreational terms at the time. “If I thought for a minute that it would work….”
“I guess you’ll never know unless you try.” What? Oh, quit messing with my head.
“Okay, this is getting a little too weird even for you two.” Daniel and I both jump at the reminder of Carter’s presence. “Sir, if you’re going to spank Daniel, give me enough lead time to get far away from here.” Carter gets a look of intense concentration, and then grins slyly. “Better yet, give me time to notify all interested parties. At $5 a head I could make a killing.” If Daniel’s eyes get any wider they’re going to pop right out of his head. “I can think of a couple dozen people right off the top of my head who would pay more than that to see Daniel spanked,” Carter continues. Daniel’s jaw drops in outrage. “So, sir, will this be a fully clothed spanking or bare bottom? I only ask because I can charge even more for the latter.” Damn but Carter can be evil. I turn a look of malicious glee on a thoroughly outraged Daniel.
“You twisted old man,” he sputters.
“You never know unless you try.”
“Thanks but no thanks. I’m not into exhibitionism,” Daniel says stiffly. “Besides, Sam didn’t specify whose bottom was to be bared.”
“Like anyone would pay to see my naked old ass,” I snort.
“Well, they might,” Carter says, considering the possibility. “But it’s a whole other kind of crowd.” Excuse me? And just what kind of crowd would that be? Daniel stares open mouthed at both of us while I glare at Carter. “What?” she asks.
“This conversation is going down roads we do not want to travel,” I say giving myself a firm shake.
“You may be right about that, sir,” Carter agrees. Daniel just continues to stare. The combination of Carter and kink has dazed him beyond words. “Sorry, I’m not sure why I even suggested….”
“It’s all right, Carter,” I reassure her. “I don’t even remember how this whole conversation got started.”
“It started with you screaming a high pitched girly scream,” Daniel says firmly, rapidly recovering his equilibrium.
“For the last time, Daniel, it wasn’t a girly scream.”
“What do you call it?” he challenges me. I glance at Carter. Run for your life, Major.
“This is where I came in,” Carter says wearily, reading my look. She makes a bee line to the door and I turn my attention back to Daniel.
“Later,” I tell him.
“Before or after you take me over your knee?”
“Before,” I promise. “Definitely before. Because after, you’ll be doing your own screaming.”
“You can try,” Daniel says with smug superiority. Just because I haven’t made him scream yet doesn’t mean I can’t. I just don’t want to peak too soon.
“It’s a date,” I assure him as I stand up to leave. “Carter needs to get laid, too.” Shit. I’ve got to do something about these random brain farts. Daniel freezes for just a second then shakes his head.
“You’re a real humanitarian, Jack.”
Chapter 2: Stick in the mud
“Thank you, Major Carter.” Hammond looks around expectantly. Carter closes her folder, having just informed us that PU-something or other has no mineral or plant species of any apparent interest. This, of course, is not news to me because in my mind there isn’t a rock or weed anywhere worth traipsing halfway across the galaxy for. Unfortunately, I often appear to be alone in my mind. Er…in my thinking, that is. However, this time Hammond looks inclined to agree.
But we have yet to hear from rock boy.
Right on cue, Daniel jumps to his feet. “General, before you make your decision hear me out,” he says hastily. Daniel moves to the front of the room and brings up a picture on the screen. D’oh. Another slide show. What a waste of a big screen. You know, just because I love the guy doesn’t mean I have to be enthralled by EVERYTHING he does. “This artifact alone indicates that P5S-203 is worth investigating.”
“The pillars,” Hammond asks, studying the picture of a couple of tall rocks.
“Stelae,” I correct. The general shoots me an amused look.
“I didn’t know you had become so knowledgeable about artifacts, Jack,” Hammond teases.
“Oh, I’ve gotten to know a lot about Daniel’s stela,” I answer blandly. Behind Hammond, Daniel’s eyes go wide.
“Don’t you mean stelae?” Carter offers helpfully. Nope, Carter, I can assure you Daniel has only one stela. And a fine specimen it is, too. Carter is oblivious but Teal’c gives me that look. No, not that look, the other one. But then, Teal’c is probably a little more clued in on what ‘hide the stela’ means.
“The, uh, the language on the…stela…is that of the Ancients,” Daniel says, glaring at me. “And the UAV picked up a small building, possibly a temple, not too far from the gate.” Daniel looks earnestly at the general. “We know how advanced the Ancients were. If they’ve left anything here it’s worth investigating.”
“You’re scheduled to go to M5R-336 tomorrow,” Hammond reminds him. Alas. What’s a poor rock boy to do? On the one hand, he’s got an uninhabited planet with evidence of the Ancients’ presence. On the other hand, he’s got a moon inhabited by people with no obvious technological or intellectual superiority but who are apparently descended from early Native Americans. “I could send SG-11 to M5R instead,” the general suggests. Daniel cringes.
“Come on, Daniel. You don’t want to give up the moochies,” I remind him.
“Moche,” he corrects automatically. “Couldn’t we do both?” he pleads. Give it about five seconds and…yep, there it is. He’s got the ‘how can you possibly deny me?’ baby blues on maximum. What’s really frustrating is that he doesn’t do it on purpose…well, not most of the time. It’s just…you get Daniel, you get the eyes.
“We’ll make it a quickie. In and out,” I tell Hammond, gesturing expressively. Daniel just sighs and Carter starts looking suspicious. Okay, I may be getting a tad obvious. “We should be able to finish in four hours tops,” I conclude quickly. Before Daniel can work up the steam to protest, I hold up my hand to stop him. “Daniel, you can record everything and study it later. That’s the only way we can do both.” He considers that for a moment and then nods. We both look at Hammond.
“All right, you have a go,” Hammond says. “Oh, and Jack? Before you hurry off to write up that overdue report….” Hammond has real potential as a sarcastic bastard. “Dr. Fraiser is awaiting your presence. Apparently you missed your appointment for your yearly physical.”
“Must have missed that memo.” Nope, not buying that one. “I’ll get right on it, sir.”
“Drop’em,” Fraiser orders.
“Not if you were the last woman on Earth,” I say routinely as I unfasten my belt.
“Lucky me,” she mutters as she snaps on a glove. Same old, same old. “Bend over and….”
“I know the drill,” I grumble. It’s surprising how something that can be so erotic in the right setting is just a pain in the ass in the wrong one.
“Well,” Doc says in a speculative tone. Well what? What!?! Don’t tell me she found something in there that’s not supposed to be there. “Relax, Colonel, everything looks fine. I’m just glad to see Daniel’s gotten over his recent problem with intimacy.” Now how the hell am I supposed to respond to that?
“Uh…yeah, me, too,” I say lamely. Oh, please. I defy any man to come up with a witty comeback under the circumstances. Keeping in mind the woman is still checking out the premises. Thank God the infirmary is deserted today. Fortunately, only seconds later I hear the rumbling of Teal’c’s deep voice which means the rest of the team is showing up for their pre-mission checks. Which means Fraiser has to stop tormenting me. Sure enough, she steps away, shooting her glove into the waste basket, and I hurry to reassemble myself before she changes her mind. Fraiser whips the curtain open and cheerfully greets the rest of SG-1. Carter and Teal’c casually return the greeting and settle themselves on their usual gurneys. Daniel has a sly smile on his face as he glances at me. Yuck it up, lacha.
“Everything check out okay, Jack?” Daniel asks blandly. You have no idea how well everything got checked out. As Daniel walks past, heading for the gurney just beyond mine, Fraiser steps over to him and drops her head slightly.
“I’m glad you’ve worked past your issues with intimacy,” Fraiser says to Daniel so quietly none but us can hear it. Daniel turns furiously on me.
“Jack,” he hisses angrily.
“Hey, don’t yell at me. The woman stuck her finger up my ass and congratulated me on getting laid!” I blurt out. Daniel’s jaw drops and he looks like he wishes he had gone out of phase about five minutes ago. Carter turns toward me slowly with a stunned look.
“That is entirely TMI, O’Neill,” Teal’c says disapprovingly from his perch on the far gurney.
“How do you think I felt?” Carter mutters something about getting a life—real quick. Fraiser just smirks at me. She wouldn’t have intentionally embarrassed Daniel for the world, but she sure as hell is going to enjoy the fall out.
“Mud,” I observe.
“So it would seem,” Teal’c responds gravely.
“Yep, that’s mud,” Carter adds with the force of all her scientific knowledge. So we’re all agreed. We’ve arrived on the planet of muck and mire. Three of us are ready to blow this pop stand. Three guesses who isn’t. Daniel is completely oblivious to the slime that oozes about our feet and instead is in the midst of an archaeological orgasm. Which is a beautiful thing to behold but tends to get me all hot and bothered and itching for a more interactive type of sexual frenzy.
“Jack, this is amazing,” Daniel says unable to tear his eyes away from the stelae. Muddy fucking rocks. Right. Leave the boy wonder to his artifacts for now.
“Carter,” I say wearily. “Didn’t I specifically say that we were to get updated MALP readings no more than an hour before a mission?” The pictures I saw in the briefing did not show a mud planet. Rocks and trees but no mud.
“We did, sir,” she responds a little testily. “Temperature and air quality were within acceptable parameters. No detectable signs of life. The…ah…humidity was a little higher than previously recorded.” Ya think? The kind of rain this place has seen in the last few days, Noah would have given up the Ark as a lost cause and started issuing water wings to the animals ASAP.
“We didn’t get a visual, did we?” Carter’s tight lipped silence answers that question. “Major, from now on….”
“I’ll update the protocol as soon as we get back,” she promises. She turns away from me and mutters, “Again.”
“All right, let’s pack it in,” I order.
“Jack!” Daniel protests. Well, of course he does.
“Daniel, this place sucks.” Literally. I pull my foot out of the ooze with a squelching noise to illustrate my point.
“But we’re already here,” he argues. “We might as well take the time to check out the temple.”
“The footing is treacherous,” I rebut. It’s that really slimy kind of mud—almost as bad as walking on ice. Not a safe place for someone with Daniel’s inclination toward injury. Daniel just fixes me with a stubborn look.
“It’s probably not as bad once you get into the more wooded area,” he says, waving toward the tree line. No, it probably isn’t but…. Once again I’m in the not so enviable position of having to decide between making Daniel happy and strictly following mission protocols. Uncle Sam doesn’t pay me near enough money to deal with this. I glance at Carter and Teal’c. They’re not giving me any real indication of their feelings one way or another. Oh, yeah, I’m going to regret this.
“Carter, you and Teal’c stay here, grab the usual samples, and keep the gate secured,” I instruct reluctantly. Carter and Teal’c just nod. Daniel, bless his soul, doesn’t waste time gloating over his victory. He just turns and starts slip-sliding through the mud.
“Daniel.” I’m sitting on the floor of the temple watching Daniel chew his lip as he tries to work out a translation. Outside, it’s raining cats and dogs and even the occasional undomesticated equine.
“Jack,” Daniel responds with exaggerated patience. He efficiently filmed what little there was to film as soon as we got here. But before we could head back the clouds ripped open and let loose with a blinding downpour. Apparently we’ve arrived at the start of the ever popular monsoon season at Club Mud. So Daniel settled back down to do some work. And I…. “You’re bored.”
“Yep. What say we find something fun to do?” This, I suspect, is an impossible task. It’s a dinky one room temple with your basic model altar. Worshippers not included. It does not provide much opportunity in the way of fun. Except maybe the naked, make your own kind of fun and there’s no way Daniel would agree to that.
“Can’t you play with yourself?” Daniel says absently. Um…. Nah, he didn’t mean that. But now that you mention it…. I glance down at my crotch. My dick has made what can at best be described as a tepid response to that suggestion. It seems to be saying ‘well, if that’s the best you can do….’
“More options with two players,” I say suggestively. Daniel glances over at me, then back at his notebook. After a brief moment he closes the book, tosses it on his back pack, and strips off his shirt.
“What are you doing?” I stammer as he casually unbuckles his belt.
“Taking off my pants,” he explains pedantically. “It’s customary before sex. One might even say necessary.”
“Unless you’re expecting a rogue wormhole to pop up in the immediate future, then, yes, here.”
“Wha…? Isn’t that like sacrilegious or something?”
“I’m not asking you to desecrate the Sistine Chapel,” he says dryly.
“I know that,” I hiss as I watch him drop trou. “But isn’t this a temple or something?”
“Something,” he answers as his boxer briefs head for the floor…and he’s definitely ready for action. “The Ancients weren’t gods, Jack. And this is, essentially, just a way station. They never lived here, not for long anyway, and this ‘temple’ is just…I don’t know…a meeting place.”
“Of sorts. I suspect when I have time to translate the stelae they’ll turn out to be little more than sign posts. This isn’t a holy site.”
“But it’s old,” I say as I unconsciously move closer. “And old stuff is like sacred to you guys, isn’t it?” Please say no. Please, please—my hands are already fumbling at my own belt.
“Normally,” Daniel says with a sigh. “But…no one’s been here in a 1000 years. And it’s unlikely anyone will ever be here again.” He sets his hands on his hips which just draws the eye to his cock. Just on the remote chance your eyes weren’t already there. Okay, let’s see how far he’s really ready to take this. I shed the rest of my clothes in no time flat and advance on him. He just looks at me with that sly smile, daring me. I grab his shoulders, push him back against the altar and kiss him. I love kissing and Daniel is a phenomenal kisser. We could do this for hours…except one of us usually gets impatient.
“Ummm…Jack, we don’t have a lot of time, do we?” Daniel mutters.
“I don’t know. You tell me how long the rainy season lasts on PU-stinky mud.”
“Well, someone will come looking for us,” Daniel insists. “Eventually.”
“A quickie then?” He scowls at me. What? I can do quickies.
“You were pushing it, you know?” Daniel says pointedly.
“Relax. The General doesn’t have a clue.”
“Hammond’s not stupid, Jack.” No, he’s not. Yes, I was pushing it. Can we discuss this later?
“We’re on the clock here.”
“As I pointed out just moments ago,” Daniel says with exasperation.
“So—hop up,” I say patting the stone slab his ass is resting against.
“On the altar?” he yelps.
“Not an altar,” I correct him. “Not a temple therefore…not an altar.” Daniel glares at me. I knew it would be hard for him to shake those geek boy ethics. “Think of it as a table if that helps.”
“Prick,” he mutters. But he stiffens his resolve…along with another, less principled part, and hops up. I study the arrangement for a moment.
“This is the perfect height,” I announce.
“For what?” Daniel asks, a frown wrinkling his forehead. Sometimes he truly is oblivious.
“A quilting bee.”
“And I didn’t even know you could se…oh, Jack!”
“I’m a man of many talents,” I mumble around his cock. Daniel shivers with the vibration of my voice and grabs hold of the edge of the table.
“Wasting time here,” Daniel says breathlessly.
“For a slut you sure do complain a lot,” I say even as I slick us both up.
“Yadda,” Daniel retorts. I slide in and Daniel moans appreciatively.
“You know—one of us needs to get a higher bed.”
“Because this really is the perfect height.” It is. Daniel’s ass is right at cock level and it’s perfect. We join easily, deeply. Daniel’s legs settle comfortably across my shoulders and we move together almost effortlessly. I try that little twist maneuver Daniel used last night and he lets out stuttering gasp. Cool. He pries one hand from the death grip it has on the edge of the alt…table and starts to stroke himself. This is one of those things where I don’t really understand WHY it’s hot. I just know it is. Very. Daniel looks up at me with heavy lidded amusement.
“You like watching me touch myself, don’t you?” he challenges.
“You bet,” I pant. “Got the best seat in the house for it,” I add, pinching his ass. He arches his back, moaning and pulling harder on his cock. I love this. I love watching his face as he strains toward release. I love seeing myself plunge into him, his beautiful ass stretched snugly around me. And I really love watching him pumping himself almost desperately.
“Not…spectator…sport,” Daniel groans. Okay, maybe a little less watching and a little more doing. “Punch it,” he growls as he digs his heels into my back. So I do. “More,” he demands. More? There isn’t any more.
“That’s what I’m asking. Now—more.”
“Cause my balls get in the way!” I snap back at him.
“I’m trying,” I growl.
“Then harder, damn it. Faster. Something-anything-ohmygod…Jack!” Daniel’s whole body tenses. He grunts breathlessly, grimacing as his cock liberally baptizes our renewed physical relationship. A few minutes of almost desperate thrusting later and I fill his still trembling body with every drop I’ve got to give. I swear I feel the earth shake. I lean over him, my hands on either side of his waist. He gives me a sated smile.
“Hey,” I gasp back, still trying to catch my breath.
“You’re right,” Daniel says. Since when. And about what? Daniel just chuckles as he explains. “One of us has to get a higher bed. That was incredible.” I manage to stagger back a step before lending Daniel a hand getting to his feet. He looks down at himself self consciously. “I seem to have made something of mess of myself,” he observes wryly.
“Got ya covered,” I say, planting a big sloppy kiss on him just for good measure before going to rummage through my pack. I toss a pair of socks to him. I always carry a couple of spare pairs. Not for this particular reason. I just hate wet feet. Daniel unbundles the socks and tosses one of them back to me. As we clean up he eyes the altar thoughtfully.
“You know…your kitchen table is just about this height.”
“No way. I am not eating off of something your ass has been on.”
“Jack, you’ve had your tongue IN my ass. How could this possibly be worse?”
“Okay.” He does have a point. “I don’t want to eat anywhere MY ass has been.”
“Strangely enough that makes sense.”
“Fuck a duck!” I growl. Daniel and I just stare at the gaping hole in the ground. I’m pretty damn sure that wasn’t here before. It does, however, explain the ‘earth shaking’ I felt before. Not, I’m sad to say, the result of my awesome sexual prowess.
“Wow,” Daniel says softly. “All the rain must have eroded the soil over a cavern. Maybe a whole network of caverns.” As he talks, Daniel drifts unconsciously closer to the edge. “Probably was an underground river….”
“Daniel!” I say as I abruptly yank him back from the rift. I really don’t want either one of us closer than ten feet to this mother of all sinkholes. There’s no way of telling to what extent the ground has been undermined and I’m not taking any chances. Unfortunately I’m a little too enthusiastic and the force of my movements dumps us both in the mud. Daniel, of course, is resisting my efforts to save his ass so we end up rolling around for a moment before I realize I should just stop fighting him. I end up flat on my back and Daniel’s sprawled between my legs, glaring at me.
“Is that a zat in your pocket or are you just happy to grope me?” he asks snidely. I wipe a comma of mud from the end of his nose. He wrinkles his nose and sits up with a sucking, squelching noise. He staggers to his feet before offering me a hand up. “Well,” he says in a resigned voice. “I guess we’ve got more of a hike than we’d planned.”
“I don’t think so,” I contradict. “That thing is huge.” The crevasse goes as far as I can see. Hell, it’s probably big enough to see from space. Whoa—just had a strange mental image of what this crack looks like from a distance. “We’ve been mooned.”
“What?” Daniel asks, looking at the sky.
“Not that kind of moon,” I say. I grab my ass to illustrate. “Mooned.” Daniel just sighs and refuses to be drawn in.
“We’re going to have to find a way to cross it. Don’t suppose you’ve got any rope?” Daniel shakes his head. “Crap. Neither do I.” I glare at the sinkhole. Daniel grabs his radio.
“Sam? Teal’c?” Seconds later, my ever vigilant 2IC responds. “Hey, Sam. Do you or Teal’c have any rope?”
“Rope?” Carter asks. “What’s up, Daniel?”
“We ran into a slight obstacle. A sinkhole has opened up since that last rain and it’s a doozy. Jack and I just about walked right into it.”
“A real ‘focul’ moment, huh?” Carter’s amusement comes clearly through the static laden reception.
“You could say that,” Daniel replies dryly. I turn on Daniel and mouth ‘focul?’ “Fucohl,” Daniel corrects softly while he waits for Carter to get back to him. “Uh, F-C-O-L that is.”
“For crying out loud,” I snap. “What does F-C—ah, crap.” Daniel just grins. Carter’s voice returns, asking for more information. I step away for a minute and let the kids get all scientifically enthused about planetary butt-cracks and try to come to terms with the fact that my team is now turning my idioms into acronyms. I let them babble for a couple of minutes before cutting in and cutting to the chase. “Carter—rope?”
“Teal’c thinks he has enough, sir.”
“Well, tell him to get a move on. You stick close to the gate.”
“Sir, I can help….”
“I know, Carter, but in case another sinkhole opens up I’d rather we not all be on the wrong side of it.” There’s a brief silence as that sinks in. Carter’s probably smacking herself upside the head for not considering that possibility. One of these days she’ll command a field unit and she WILL think of these things. In the meantime—it’s my job.
“Yes, sir, of course.”
“I’m going first,” I announce as I study the terrain looking for the best situated trees to use.
“Why?” Daniel immediately asks. Because I’m an unrepentant alpha male. Duh.
“Daniel, nowhere is it written that you have to question EVERY damn thing I say.”
“Yes, it is,” he rebuts mildly. “The Dummies Guide to Gay Relationships. Check the chapter on military assholes.” Sometimes there just isn’t a comeback pointedly pithy enough to the things Daniel says.
“I’m not a military asshole.”
“If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck….” Daniel suggests.
“Leave the fucking ducks out of it,” I shoot back. “Anyway, I’m a flyboy.”
“With a military asshole,” Daniel adds firmly, eyes sparkling with amusement.
“If my asshole was military you’d know it because it would be closed for business.”
“O’Neill.” Ah, crap. Why does Teal’c always seem to show up just in time to hear me say these things? Daniel chokes back a laugh.
“Hey, Teal’c. Welcome to the diss the colonel hour.” Teal’c studies me intently.
“It would seem that only your ass is being dissed,” he observes. “I must say I am not surprised by that.” Daniel lets out a strangled noise. He’s about this close to losing it.
“Very funny.” Not. “Guess you’ll be doing open mic night at the Comedy Club next.”
“Indeed. Would you like me to procure tickets for you, O’Neill?” Daniel howls and the only thing keeping him on his feet are the hands he has clamped painfully on my shoulder.
“You’re a regular Robin Williams there, Teal’c.”
“I believe I have more the style of George Carlin,” Teal’c responds seriously. “Finding the absurdity and humor in every day Tauri life and language.”
“Smithereens,” Daniel gasps as he finally sags to his knees. “Man bites dog.”
I give up.
It actually didn’t take long, once Daniel stopped laughing, for Teal’c and I to rig a line across the crevasse and for Daniel and I to swing our way across. Encouragements such as “Swing it, mud monkey” helped Daniel ignore his fear of heights long enough to get over the chasm. Then it was just an uncomfortable trudge back to the gate, Daniel and me both coated with a still damp layer of slime. Carter grins broadly when she sees the three of us approaching. “You guys are a mess,” she says cheerfully.
“Thanks,” Daniel mutters sarcastically, but he has a smile for her just the same. I don’t.
“Carter, next time I need fashion advice,” I tell her, “I won’t be calling you.”
“Don’t you know you’re supposed to be nude for mud wrestling,” she says, sneering at me.
“You know Jack. Always has to do things his way,” Daniel says coyly.
“Carter, dial us up.” This is getting out of hand. It’s not that I don’t enjoy seeing my team relaxed and happy. This is the first non-life, limb, or sanity threatening mission we’ve had in a while and I’m feeling pretty mellow myself. Plus I got some which never hurts my mood. Still, I can’t afford to have my kids losing all respect for me and it’s time to put my foot down. So I do—right in front of Carter’s as she moves past me toward the DHD. I dump a completely unprepared Carter on her ass before she knows what hit her. She makes a satisfyingly loud squelch as she lands. Daniel bites his lip. Chickenshit. He’ll laugh his ass off at me, but he won’t dare laugh at Carter.
“Don’t you dare,” she warns Daniel. “I’ve got a P90 and I know how to use it.” Daniel averts his face and I can see his features contorting as he fights to hold it in. Carter wallows around for a second and her butt makes a really disgusting sucking sound as she tries to pull free. Just as she’s about to maneuver to her feet, one foot slips and she goes right back down. “Damn it!”
“You know, Carter, that P90 ain’t gonna work worth shit if you get it full of mud,” I point out. Purely in the interest of offering a helpful hint from my years of hard won experience. Daniel shoots a warning look at me and immediately leans over to lend her a hand up.
“You’re laughing at me,” she growls at Daniel even as she grabs his hand.
“No, I’m not.” Yes, he is. “You…um…did you know you have mud in your ear?” he asks solicitously. Carter gives a hard tug and Daniel goes flying, landing in the mud next to her. He briefly appraises the situation, then just lies back in the goop and stares at me.
“Don’t look at me,” I tell them both. I’m not stupid enough to get involved...now. We all look over at Teal’c. The big guy is currently doing his award winning impression of an Easter Island statue. Crap. Fine, let the old gray colonel do all the work. “Carter, I’m only warning you once. Fuck up the knees and I WILL make you pay for the rest of your life.” She glares at me but nods. I take her hand and give her a pull. And as she comes up the bitch shifts her weight just enough to yank me down. I keep hold of her, though, and she splats right back down. In the meantime, I end up on top of Daniel. Which is infinitely better than landing in mud. Granted, Daniel would be my choice of landing site under pretty much any circumstances. Daniel looks down his nose imperiously.
“Don’t even think about asking me about my zat,” he warns.
“You are not armed with a zat today, Daniel Jackson,” Teal’c observes.
“Oh, yes, he is,” I correct Teal’c. Daniel has a zat in his pocket and it’s at least mildly happy to see me. Carter looks over at the two of us and groans.
“Would you two grow up?” she complains.
“Daniel, ever notice how Carter fondles her P90?” Daniel looks over at Carter, who actually is not so much fondling as priming her weapon. Daniel nods understandingly.
“Zat envy,” he diagnoses. Bingo.
“Must humans define everything in terms of sexual function?” Teal’c asks. Carter harrumphs and nods approvingly. Daniel just giggles. Yes—giggles.
“What is with all the giggling today?” I ask ignoring what I assume must be a rhetorical question from Teal’c.
“I’m in a good mood,” Daniel retorts, trying to force his features into some semblance of solemnity. “So sue me.” He scowls at me. “At least I was.”
“See—this just emphasizes my point,” I announce.
“What point would that be, sir?” Carter asks as she sits up and stares disdainfully at the mud dripping from her elbows.
“That Teal’c needs to get laid.” A sharp “Sir!” from Carter, a threatening “O’Neill” from Teal’c and an exasperated “Jack” from Daniel wash right over me. “Here we have Dr. Moody,” I say. Daniel tries to punch me in the ribs but he can’t get much leverage as long as I’m still lying on top of him. “Who, now that he’s getting some on a regular basis, actually giggles.” I wave a muddy hand at Teal’c. “And here we have the Jaffa of Doom who isn’t getting any. Hence the ‘doom’.” I rearrange my and Daniel’s assorted limbs so that I’m kneeling, straddling his thighs. And no, his zat isn’t nearly as happy to see me right now.
“Getting some—good mood,” I say, pointing at Daniel. I wave my hand at Teal’c again. “Not getting any—bad mood.” For a moment there’s absolute silence as my point sinks in.
“Then what would be your excuse, O’Neill?”
And So It Goes
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