Wake-up Call

Category: P.W.P., a little stress, a little humor...

Synopsis: Misunderstandings threaten a recently renewed friendship

Spoilers: set after 'The Light', reference to 'Divide and Conquer'.

WARNING: Linguist's language lapses lamentably... Nothing else to alarm.

Disclaimer: Sadly none of these characters is mine. I'm just borrowing them, polishing them and adding a bit of spin. Then you can have them back, mostly undamaged, just a little bent. ;-) And no money changed hands, so if you want to sue me, please bare in mind that the nearest thing I have to assets are my knickers. Date: 3/9/2002.

Daniel:

I gently awaken to the smell of coffee and firm capable hands massaging my back. It's pleasantly stimulating and I murmur my appreciation. I'm still three-quarters asleep and wonder where I am and who it is. Jack. It must be Jack, but I'm not opening my eyes to look yet. Memory drifts slowly back into my drowsy mind.

We all went out for a meal together last night. Afterwards, Sam went home, Teal'c went back to the Mountain and Jack and I went - came? - round to his house for coffee and a continuation of a lifetheuniverseandeverything discussion we'd started earlier. It got late, so I stayed overnight. It happens from time to time. If I'm lucky, I get a back rub with my coffee.

This is so nice. Don't want to move. Don't want the moment to end. It's been so long since the last time - apart from the weeks we spent in the goa'uld pleasure palace recovering from the effects of the light. We did a lot of fence-mending then, Sam, Jack and I, and spent many cathartic hours venting over Anise, her damned Zatarc machine, the Tok'ra (Jacob Carter and the late Martouf excepted) and snakeheads in general. We've been much better as a team ever since, and things don't get much better than the present. Just one thing would make it perfect, but it could never happen, so I'm happy to settle for this.

Jack:

I'm normally awake by 0600, but as we're on downtime, I allowed myself the luxury of an hour's lie in. After a shower and a shave, I spent a good half-hour sitting by my spare bed before I set about making coffee. I was just watching - watching my archaeologist sleeping, snuffling into his pillow, hair ruffled - and wishing.

When I come back with the coffee, he's tossed around a little until there's just a corner of the sheet covering his ass. I put the mug beside him on the night-stand and look down at him. I'm rapt in admiration. It's a wonderful sight. His back - muscles relaxed to smoothness - slopes downwards then rises to the bewitching curve of his...

Nope, not going there. His friendship is too good to jeopardize again, this time by totally inappropriate behaviour. What would he think if he could read my thoughts now! There's something I can do to get closer to him - just for a while. There's a bottle of hand lotion on the night-stand and I know he loves having his back massaged.

I pour out a generous dollop and let it warm on my hands. Gently, but not so gently as to tickle, I smooth the lotion over his back. As I exert more pressure, he makes soft noises, somewhere between humming and purring. He so loves what I can do with my hands - when I don't have a P90 in them anyway. He's beginning to come round. The eyes are opening. A faint smile quirks the corners of his mouth. Sweet!

"What time is it, Jack?" he murmurs.

"Oh, about eight o'clock," I reply. "Thought I'd let you have a lie i—."

"You bastard!" he squawks, "You fucking bastard! Eight o'fucking clock?! We're on downtime, you asshole!"

He's gone from prone to sitting bolt upright, and blissful to pissy, in a nano-second. And the sheet slips away from the bare essentials... Oh, glory!

What?!!! Eight o'clock?! The fucking asshole! We're on downtime. I did not want to see the light of day before noon! I roll over and sit up, giving vent to my disgust at his stupidity as I do so. I take in his startled expression and follow his line of sight, all the way to my morning hard-on. Which had nothing to do with his talented fingers. Much. I should've remembered that I'm not at home and at least kept my boxers on. Jack gives an awkward chuckle.

"Rise and shine!" he says with an attempt at humour.

"I may rise," I grunt cantankerously, "but I'll be buggered before I shine."

"Oh well, if that's what it takes..."

The jocularity continues. I think. I shoot him a speculative look.

"Are you offering?" I ask, segueing from surly to sultry.

"Wh-what? N-n-no!" he stammers.

"Oh. 'm not good enough for you, huh?"

"No! Yes! I mean..." He tails off in confusion.

"Well, Jack, what do you mean?" I ask, soft and low, and looking up through my lashes.

He swallows and shifts his gaze to the ceiling as if contemplating the holes which need fillingwhat am I thinking...? He's still avoiding looking at me.

"Well?" I persist.

He seems to be having breathing difficulties.

"Drink your coffee," he wheezes and scoots out of the room.

Hm, that was interesting.

Jesus, that was close! Talk about 'Don't ask, don't tell'. I all but came on to Daniel there. I run those past few minutes through my mind as I set about cooking breakfast. Ok, it was only said in jest - I think. Of course it was. Otherwise, I just offered to do my best friend. Agh! He even asked if I was. What was I thinking of? Well, that hard-on springs to mind. The man should not have been flaunting that - that...

Breathe, O'Neill, breathe. Concentrate on the cooking. Need to keep the brain fully functioning here. Better. Blood returning to its normal place, slowly - till the memory of the eyes and the lashes swims back into my conscious mind - and that voice. Almost like he wanted— No. No way. He was just playing along. He's straight. Gotta be. I'd've noticed - something - if he wasn't. This is just wishful thinking.

Everything's cooking nicely now. I go to the bottom of the stairs and call to Daniel.

"Breakfast'll be on the table in five, whether you're ready for it or not!"

Um, did that sound slightly... suggestive? Nah. Note to self: must drag mind out of the gutter. I go back into the kitchen, crack the eggs into the pan and pop some bread in the toaster. I flip the eggs then bend down to get the plates out of the warming drawer. And see bare feet right behind me. I whirl round to face him and he's so close, he's blurred.

"I'm ready for it," he purrs.

Nghk?

As I step out of the shower, I smell the seductive aroma of frying bacon coming up the stairs. Jack shouts that breakfast is nearly ready. I towel my hair dry and dress hastily. A shave can wait.

He's flipping the eggs as I reach the kitchen, and totally focussed on the task in hand. I try out my stalking skills. With bare feet it's easy. He doesn't notice a thing until I'm right behind him.

That went well. The unflappable Colonel O'Neill is - well - flapping. At least he didn't drop the plates. We're practically nose-to-nose as I tell him I'm ready for it. Whatever 'it' is.

"One egg or two?" he squeaks.

"I'm easy," I say and watch his jaw drop.

"Er, so two then?" he says when brain reconnects with mouth.

"Fine," I reply, licking my lips.

I like what that did to him. Maybe perfection isn't as far off as I'd thought.

Or maybe I've just spooked him? Made him wonder about my preferences - and he's way not comfortable about it? Perhaps I'd better back off a little. If I've read him wrong, I could lose my best friend here, and I couldn't bear that - not now things are back on track again after that long harsh desolation of the soul.

I collect the cutlery and the condiments and take them through into the dining room. Jack comes through with the plates and we eat. In silence. Jack isn't even looking as me. This is not good. Finally, with nothing left on our plates to delay the moment, one of us has to say something - fill the void.

"Got any plans," we say together.

The silence slides back between us.

"Er no," we reply in unison again.

Well, this is not true, exactly. I know what I'd like to do.

"Um, Daniel," Jack begins after another awkward pause. Oh-oh, here it comes.

"You know I was joking don't you?" he asks, looking worried.

"About what?"

I'm learning, you see. Get all the facts first. Don't make assumptions. Don't give away gratuitous information. He could be referring to something from last night.

"About this morning."

Then again...

"What about this morning?"

See. And I keep my tone as bland as possible. Don't want to let him know how despairing I feel as it all turns to shit again.

Daniel is not making this easy. Feels like I'm getting the third degree here. He doesn't look too happy either.

"You know... " I say, a little desperately.

"Well, I will when you tell me," he replies unhelpfully.

He was barely awake - hng - bare-ly... Maybe it all went over his head? Head. Agh! I re-run the scenario again. No. He noticed.

"You know... when I..." I trail off in embarrassment.

"Said you wanted to make me shine?"

"Er - yes," I gasp gratefully. Clutching at straws here. Rather be clutching— Um. Can't get that... picture out of my mind.

"You don't want me to shine then?"

I do, I do.

"No," I manage, with as much calmness as I can muster. "I mean yes. B-but in your own time..."

Gotta play it cool here. Which is difficult, given just how hot that memory of him makes me. Is it my imagination, or does he look a little disappointed. Nah. It's my imagination. Gotta be.

"So I guess you'll be wanting to clear the table and then I'll wash the dishes?" he says without enthusiasm.

Ah. Slight problem here. Well, large and fairly conspicuous one, actually. Better stay where I am until it goes away.

"Why don't you go and fetch some more coffee first," I temporize.

"Ah, no, I think I'll pass on that for now. But... you go ahead."

Daniel? Refused? Coffee?!! What the fuck??? In my surprise, I drop my hands on the table, catching the handle of my fork. The fork traces a spinning glimmering arc on to the floor and bounces under the table. I bend down to retrieve it and a movement catches my eye. Daniel's hands - dropping down into his lap. He's trying a hide a boner at least as big as my own! Oh my...

"Um, Daniel, something you want to tell me?" I ask. My voice seems to have taken on a deep gravely tone.

"Oh God," he mutters, looking anywhere but at me. He wasn't blushing before but he is now. Truly, madly, deeply...

He jerks his chair back and legs it upstairs. Suddenly all the pieces drop neatly into place and that flush wasn't embarrassment, it was shame— He's ashamed of having feelings for me in this godawful 'don't ask, don't tell' world we live in - feelings he doesn't yet know we share... God, he must think he's just lost my respect and friendship the way I was afraid of losing his. Dammit!

I chase after him and see him disappear into the bathroom. The bolt shoots as I reach the top of the stairs. I tap lightly on the door.

"Come on out, Danny," I call softly.

There's a long silence. I call again. Another long silence.

"I'm still here," I tell him - and thinking about what I'm going to do with him when he comes out - as he has to sometime.

"Go away, Jack," comes a distraught voice.

"Nope. Ain't gonna."

"Please, Jack. You don't want to know me."

"You're wrong there, Danny. Not only do I want to know you, I got a little present for you - well, not that little..."

"Huh?" he sniffs, "what're you talking about?"

"You'll have to come out to find out," I singsong back at him.

"I think I already did that," he says dolefully.

"So whatcha got to lose?"

There's another silence then, "Wait a minute."

"Been waiting long enough already, Danny," I say with some irony.

Finally, the bolt's drawn back and the door opens a few inches. A wan unshaven face looks out. He looks a sight, but that's gonna change very soon. I grin broadly at him.

"What?"

I look down by way of directing his gaze. When I look back at him, his eyes are rivetted on my groin.

"Jack?" he asks, jaw dropping as if he can't believe what he's seeing.

"Are you going to open your 'present' here or shall we go somewhere more comfortable?"

His face is slowly breaking into one of his rare smiles, the most entrancing one I ever seen.

"Um, bedroom?" he asks.

"Sounds good to me."

"About our downtime? Do you have a plan now?"

"Not as such, no, but I'm sure we'll find something to do..."

Fizz... Ting!