Ficlet the Second
Suggested by: ccoun
Is: an intimate (not necessarily sexual) moment between Jack and Daniel.
Summary: “You’re just a trouble magnet, no matter where you are,” Jack sighs.
“I was watching that,” Daniel protests sleepily when Jack reaches over him and plucks the remote from his lap, switching off the television.
“Obviously. You’ve gotta teach me that seeing through the eyelids thing you had going on. It would make my meetings a hell of a lot easier.”
“You’re so mean to me,” Daniel complains, but his voice is softer, which means he hasn’t fully climbed back out of sleep, or is heading back there rapidly. A few moments later, the latter is true and Daniel sleepily mumbles something else that Jack thinks is either Spanish or Ancient, before finally giving up the fight to sleep completely.
Jack crouches down by Daniel, pulling the worn afghan further up his body that had slipped down to his knees, and then gently traces fingers along the bruising that dusts his right cheek, gash on his left temple and then the pad of his thumb finally mapping the split lip.
They hadn’t even been off world. Someone had mugged Daniel coming out of the grocery store. It had been three guys who Daniel had managed to fight off but he still ended up a pretty sorry mess. He’d been on the ground at one point and one of the guys had really laid the boot in on his ribs.
“You’re just a trouble magnet, no matter where you are,” Jack sighs.
Daniel blinks his eyes open sleepily, one fist rubbing at the unblackened one and he smiles a little, although it’s careful because otherwise his lip will start bleeding again.
“That’s what you’re for,” Daniel sighs, reaching up and tracing fingers over Jack’s temple, finding the bruise there. Jack had gotten a call two hours before, a tip off from his friend on the police force that the muggers were in custody. He’d come back with bruised knuckles and a banged up face.
A kinder gentler Daniel, a Daniel of nine years ago, would have protested.
This one now, he doesn’t ask.
And Jack doesn’t tell.
Ficlet the Third
Suggested by: janedavitt
Is: Teal'c/Daniel and a hug for comfort
Summary: When Teal’c had reached out and just put his arms around Daniel, he had frozen, arms pinned at his sides and not knowing what to do.
When Teal’c had reached out and just put his arms around Daniel, he had frozen, arms pinned at his sides and not knowing what to do.
It was a rare thing for Teal’c to reach out and Daniel didn’t know how to react.
“I am sorry, DanielJackson,” Teal’c says solemnly, before moving away, lost through the throng of people. There had been something deeply hurt in Teal’c’s eyes.
Daniel looks back and spots Jack ambling towards him, dodging scurrying scientists with an easy grace.
“Is something the matter with Teal’c?” Daniel asks.
Jack looks surprised for a moment, before his eyes darken. “Why?”
“He just hugged me and apologised. I don’t know what for,” Daniel says and watches as something unreadable crosses Jack’s face.
“How long ago did Sha’re die?” Jack asks.
“A year today,” Daniel answers automatically, before realisation dawns on him. “Oh,” he breathes.
“He’s never going to forgive himself for that,” Jack says, tone resigned. “I guess he knows that some small part of you can’t either.”
Daniel looks at Jack, stricken, knowing he’s right.
Later, he finds Teal’c in his quarters, lighting his candles for Kel-No-Reem. “Can I join you?” he asks and Teal’c looks pleased.
“Of course. You are always welcome, DanielJackson,” he says with a small nod.
“Can I ask you something?” he begins and waits for another nod before going ahead. “Do you… do you think I haven’t forgiven you?”
Teal’c blinks slowly, before squeezing his hands into fists and then slowly releasing them. “I would not accept it if you did. It is not something I can be forgiven for,” he says simply.
“I wish I-“
“DanielJackson, do you not care for and respect me, despite what has happened?”
“Yes,” Daniel says automatically, knowing that because it came so easily, it’s the truth.
Teal’c’s smile is touched with sadness, but there is hope in it too. “That is enough,” he says.
Ficlet the Fourth
Title: "In Absentia"
Suggested by: rowan_d
Summary: He knows her too well.
They sit on the balcony of her apartment, overlooking the city, both with their legs through the bars and feet dangling over open space.
Without a word, he puts a hand down flat on her thigh, thumb stroking the soft skin on her inside leg. He doesn’t look at her for permission like he used to and his touch isn’t hesitant. Her leg tenses for a moment but instead of gentling his touch, his fingers clamp down firmer and it’s this that makes her relax.
He knows her too well.
His eyes are on the setting sun, and she takes the rare opportunity to just look at him, study the square angle of his jaw and marvel at how it had once been a gentle curve. His eyes are hard, small lines around their edges and there is a small white scar in the shape of a half moon just above his right eyelid. It’s such a tiny thing that no one would guess that that day Daniel had almost lost an eye, and he’d gotten it standing in front of her.
His fingers walk up her skin, beneath the light summer skirt she’s wearing and one blunt nail traces the skin at the join of her pelvis and thigh. She opens her mouth a little, wanting to lean forward and brush lips against the tendon in his throat she can see, but she resists, knowing there is a good chance she will break whatever spell he is weaving, jarring them both out of the moment.
With Daniel sometimes, it’s like approaching a skittish horse.
His fingers find the edge of her pants and insinuate themselves beneath. She sighs a little and the skin around his eyes tightens. She closes her mouth with an audible click that echoes around the inside of her head.
As he strokes her, quick and sharp and bringing her to completion so fast she’s left leaning with her forehead against the railing and white spots in her vision, the sun dips below the horizon and finally he makes a noise, a small sigh.
“It’s beautiful,” he breathes, and his eyes finally slide to meet hers.
Six months later, she looks at him across the conference table. He’s wearing a frown while looking through a file and no one else has gotten to the meeting room yet. He’s only been back with them two weeks and there is still a lot he doesn’t remember.
“So,” she says, and he looks up at her, a vague, pleasant smile on his face that makes her want to scream.
“When I said that I never saw you when you were Ascended, that wasn’t completely true.”
His brows draw down in confusion.
“I’m sorry, I don’t remember any of it,” he says, and there is frustration in his tone, a longing to know what he’d been. Anytime anyone brings up something he should know, he gets the same look. Mostly angry with himself.
“It doesn’t matter,” she sighs, waving a dismissive hand.
“If it was something important, you’d tell me, right?” he asks, concern on his features.
“Of course,” she says almost too brightly.
She will, she promises herself. Just… not right now.
He goes back to reading and she watches him for a little while and finally hits on what’s been bothering her when he removes his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.
The scar over his eye is gone.
Ficlet the Fifth
Title: "Compare and Contrast"
Suggested by: sheri47
Is: Sam/Jack/Daniel ...how about showering together...or size comparison... or both. (I went with both... naturally!)
Summary: Sam notices where his eyes went and looks annoyed, but then a sly smile crosses her face
“Uh… Sam?” Daniel squeaks and Jack looks around, thinking he’s joking but then blinks in surprise when he spies his 2IC, standing in the entrance to the communal showers, leaning against the tile and looking exhausted.
“Can I just shower?” she asks, and her voice is so broken and tired that it makes Jack’s heart hurt.
“Of course,” Jack says slowly and watches as Sam nods in thanks and then just drops the robe she has on, stepping up to the showerhead that’s situated between both him and Daniel.
Jack looks past Sam to see that Daniel is looking at his feet so hard that the angle of his neck looks just painful.
“So,” Jack says inanely, and grimaces when Sam squints at him through the soap on her face. She had just started rubbing it through her matted hair and so her arms are up and her breasts are pulled high and taught and Jack thinks wow, and also, uh oh because a certain part of his body is getting ready to be very interested in the proceedings.
Sam notices where his eyes went and looks annoyed, but then a sly smile crosses her face and she pointedly looks down at his crotch. She then turns and looks at Daniel, who lets out a “Hey!” of protest, angling his body away but it’s too late.
Sam looks back at Jack. “I would’ve thought you were bigger, Sir,” she says, her tone neutral, but her eyes dancing. The exhaustion has been washed away.
“Than what?” Jack demands, looking down at himself to make sure he hasn’t magically shrunk on the mission. No, everything seems in order.
Sam’s eyes tick to Daniel and one side of her mouth creeps up into a fairly good imitation of his own smirk.
Daniel breathes in water and starts spluttering.
Sam turns off her taps and stoops to retrieve her robe, slipping it back on in one smooth yank and then smiles brightly, before turning on her heel and disappearing out of the shower room.
Jack turns slowly back to Daniel, who has finally managed to wrest enough water out of his lungs that he is able to breathe again. Jack’s eyes narrow because Daniel is still turned away.
“Let me see!” he demands.
Ficlet the Sixth
Title: "Breakfast of Champions"
Suggested by: surreallis
Is: Jack and oatmeal. (JK seconded the Daniel/Sam/Jack vote so this went that way aswell).
Summary: “It’s nice to know you’re, you know, onboard. For future reference,” Daniel remarked dryly.
“Oh crap! Do you think he’ll notice?”
Jack started awake when he’d heard the sound of a smash issue from his kitchen. He grumbled, turning over and realising he’d been completely encased in his sheet. He fought his way free, finally kicking the tangled mess to the end of the bed and then looking about the dark room, blearily.
He was alone and hung-over and what was worse, he had a pretty good idea from the voices issuing from the kitchen, that last night had not just been some alcohol infused wet dream.
He slid to the side of the bed and let his feet thump to the floor.
One of his feet had landed on top of one of Daniel’s shoes, thereby sealing with tangible evidence that last night had indeed happened.
Jack stood, stumbling over Sam’s backpack, yet more evidence he didn’t need, and made it to the bathroom. He ducked his whole head under the shower head and turned the cold water on for a few seconds.
When he emerged, he felt vaguely more human. Now that his brain was no longer sleep addled though, panic gripped his heart with a steel fist.
What the hell had he done?
He went back into the bedroom and pulled a t-shirt that was hanging over the back of his desk chair, only to find it was Daniel’s and yanked it off with a growl, opening his bureau and finding a clean one. He pulled sweat pants from the second drawer and pulled them on as well.
Then he braced himself for the most awkward morning of his life.
He entered the kitchen, pulling up short when he spied Daniel and Sam, both leaning on the kitchen counter and with hands wrapped around steaming cups of coffee, pressed shoulder to shoulder. When Daniel spied Jack in the doorway, he smiled and pushed a third mug toward the counter edge in Jack’s direction.
“Morning,” Sam greeted brightly.
“Is that all you have to say for yourself?” Jack demanded and both of his houseguests blinked at him.
“Did you get out of the crazy side of the bed this morning?” Daniel asked and Jack scowled at him.
“Had a very fun evening, and you’re not going to make it all weird, no matter how much you might want to,” Sam cut him off, still smiling but it was now a little forced. She looked at Daniel, as if asking him to back her up and he obliged.
“We’ve decided not to freak out about all this and we’ve already decided for the three of us.”
“Oh you have, have you?” Jack said slowly, raising an eyebrow.
“Yep. We voted while you were still asleep. Daniel was your proxy.”
“For chrissakes!” Jack snapped, and then his eyes narrowed. “Is that the last of my oatmeal?” he demanded, looking at the bowl in front of Daniel and remembered the morning before that he’d made a mental note to get more because he only had enough left for one more morning.
Daniel looked at the heaped spoon in front of his mouth and slowly lowered it back to the bowl beneath. “I’ll trade you,” he offered and Jack’s brows climbed higher.
“It’s my oatmeal, Daniel,” Jack said incredulously.
“Be that as it may, I only have to sneeze in its general direction and you won’t touch it.” Daniel scrunched up his nose, imitating his allergy face.
“Fine! What do you want for it?”
“For you to accept what happened in the spirit with which it was intended and think, yay threesome, and not Oh no, career ending suicide.”
“That’s a big ask,” Jack said, his voice menacing.
Daniel moved the bowl of oatmeal towards the far edge of the counter with a finger until it was sitting precariously. “I’m not sure why you’re so worried. There’s almost a full box of fruit loops in the pantry,” he said mildly.
“Alright!” Jack squeaked. “I’m onboard. Yay threesome!” he said, doing a little fist pump in the air.
Daniel and Sam dissolved into hopeless giggles.
“What?” Jack demanded grumpily.
“It might’ve helped if you hadn’t passed out before the fun stuff. Daniel and I slept on the couches.” Sam pointed and there were indeed blankets strewn across both of Jack’s couches in the lowered living room.
“It’s nice to know you’re, you know, onboard. For future reference,” Daniel remarked dryly.
When Jack flopped back on his bed, face down, it was with the knowledge that his oatmeal had been sacrificed to a good cause as he heard Daniel and Sam cursing from the kitchen and then the wet sound of them sliding in the oatmeal mess they were both wearing. There was a squeal and a thump and Jack chuckled to himself.
His bedroom door slammed open and all the special ops training in the world didn’t save him from two pissed off and oatmeal covered geniuses as they launched themselves in the general direction of the bed.