Slash: Jack and Daniel involved in a loving and committed relationship, which usually involves sex.
Rating: PG-13
Category: Pre-Slash.  Romance.
Season/Spoilers: Season 5.  No spoilers.
Synopsis: What shall we do with a bashful linguist?
Warnings: Cuteness abounds.  Unashamed snugglefic.  Un-beta'd so be warned.  An emergency response post-Meridian airing warm fuzzies fic.
Length: 64 Kb

"Can you come back in a few hours?"

"Excuse me?" I demand, gaping in disbelief.  Daniel frowns up at me.

"I'm sorry, Jack, it's just not convenient for me to be kidnapped right now," Daniel explains without a hint of apology.  He nibbles his lip thoughtfully, which always does terrible things to me, then glances at the mound of open textbooks on his desk.  "Tomorrow," he offers grudgingly, taking another quick glance.  "Maybe."

"Did I not make myself clear?" I ask with awful politeness.  "This is a foothold situation.  I've been possessed by an alien entity whose sinister agenda must be discovered and thwarted by SG-16.  All they know is that to accomplish my evil ends, I kidnapped you."

Eyeing me in mild amusement, my putative hostage considers this.  "It's an exercise," he contradicts authoritatively.  "Pretend.  So why don't you go do what you have to pretend to do…" he waves a vague hand towards the hallway, "while I stay here, pretend to be a suitably submissive hostage and actually get some work done."  Daniel sits back and shoots me a bright look that insists 'win win'.

I choose to respond to this by touching the barrel of my P-90 to the tip of Daniel's nose. 

I thoroughly enjoyed liberating my P-90 from the Armoury, although this opinion is not shared by the Armoury Sergeant, Susan Grimes, who I know for a fact asked Daniel out on a date.  I'm sure next time someone feels the urge to shoot something, they'll untie her.  As soon as they've busted her out of the locker, they'll untie her. 

I have to admit I'm enjoying Daniel's reaction more.  He's trying to look down his nose, literally, and is starting to get pissed off.

"Get your ass in gear, Daniel," I order impatiently.  "Carter and Teal'c will only be under my malign alien influence for another five minutes and then they're going to come to their senses and start shooting at us.  We have to get to the gate room."

Daniel looks at my P-90, my black fatigues and my hat in turn, a quizzical eyebrow raised.  It's the only move he actually makes.  "We're going for a subtle exit, then," he observes dryly.

I look steadily at Daniel.  Then I grab him by the scruff off the neck and haul him up.  He scowls at me, looking ruffled and indignant.  We stand there toe to toe, glaring at one another, my arm clasped tight around Daniel's waist, my weapon resting on his shoulder.  His fists are clenched white-knuckled in my jacket.  He's going red, very slowly, colour tiding over his face and throat.

"I - I could probably get some work done in your off-world lair," he offers gruffly, shyly peeking through his lashes at me and swallowing hard, his fingers spreading to fondle my jacket a little.

He's killing me.  Being this close to him makes my cock throb and my heart pound and it doesn't help in any way that I can read him like he can read those books scattered on his desk.  Daniel would die if he knew I knew he had a crush on me.  The day I retire, he'll know.  It feels like I've been in love with him forever.

If he'd ever noticed I was a seething mass of thwarted hormones, maybe we'd have the talk a tad sooner, but as it is, I'm looking like a sexual harassment charge about to happen, so we'd better boogie.  I clear my throat, Daniel jerks back from whatever pleasant daydream he just lost himself in, jumps violently, goes very pale, blurts something about his books and wriggles free.

I feel so guilty for being horny when he doesn't have a clue, and he looks so damned hot when he's panicky, I help him pack.

There's no excuse for me carrying one of his bags when we sneak out of his office though.

Apart from the obvious one.


Carter seems to have exterminated the entire control room technical staff with extreme prejudice.  It's awash with artistically limp bodies.  Teal'c is wide-eyed and nervous as he surveys the stricken from a spot adjacent to the door.

"Did she actually zat the poor bastards?" I hiss as Carter tippy-taps the final co-ordinate into the dialling computer.

"Sam!" my hostage gently chides his beloved friend and confidante.

Carter glances over her shoulder, shooting him an evil look.  "Shouldn’t the hostage be secured, Sir?"

The hostage trailed along quite happily watching my ass, Major, thank you.  Not that having Daniel bound doesn't appeal…

Daniel attains some kind of enlightenment, trotting over to rifle through the pack I'm carrying for him.  I avoid Teal'c's raised eyebrow as Daniel emerges temptingly waving a bag of M&Ms at her.  Carter's stony face melts to a look of misty gratitude as she bashfully accepts them from him, going a little pink. 

Teal'c is rolling his eyes.  Couldn't agree more.  Everyone's life would be a lot easier if Carter was, shall we say, regular.

I think I'm getting off light, getting safely off-world with the linguist, when the astrophysicist pops the seal on the virgin family-sized bag and starts scarfing down the treats.  Especially when Daniel's 'big sister' Sam still ties him up.

"Poor Teal'c," Daniel whispers as we sneak down the stairs from the control room to the gate room.

He's a useful hostage, checking out the hallway for me and generally watching my back as I swipe my security card through the door control.

"Poor us," I contradict grimly.  "Let's show some hustle.  The exercise briefing said the effects of my alien mind-whammie were intense but short-lived."

Daniel processes this.  Light footsteps pitter-patter onto the stairs and rapidly down.  Daniel shows commendable survival instincts, actually making it up the ramp and accelerating into the wormhole while I'm still backing up step by painful step firing at Carter, who's taken cover behind the machine gun.  I'm only grateful she got some candy-coated additives into her first.  Meanwhile, our noble warrior is prudently rendering first aid to the fallen in the control room while I'm dodging the intense intar zatting.  In fact, my loyal 2IC has zatted me at least thrice and is yelling about me cheating when I haul ass into the wormhole.

She shoots it on general principle.

My ass, I mean.  Not the wormhole.


"I'm a hostage," Daniel reminds me, settling pleasurably back against his chosen rock  with the air of a man with nothing better to do than loll around enjoying the sunshine.

I've already clipped his sunglasses to his glasses and given him a cool drink and half a Snickers bar on humanitarian grounds and now the lazy little shit is going to repay me by sitting on his ass watching while I pitch that tent, carry that water, and generally toil like Suzy Home-Maker.

No way I'm letting him get away with this.  No frigging way.  He is not that cute!

"Stockholm Syndrome," I remind him sharply, hands balling into fists on my hips.

A tiny smirk is tugging at Daniel's undeniably luscious lips.  "That won't kick in until you've vacuumed the lair, fluffed the pillows in my air-conditioned cell and served me seconds of the nice dinner you've cooked for me," he retorts pleasantly, blatantly snuggling down for a nap.

I sigh and moodily mooch over to erect the tent, sadly admitting to myself Daniel really is that cute and I really am that sappy.  The worst thing is that until I met Daniel, I had that typical, uncomprehending 'Cute? What the hell is cute?' guy thing going.

You cannot notice that your favourite pain-in-the-ass comes complete with beautiful blue eyes without noticing a few things about yourself too.  It's a very short step from realisation to objectification.  Another guy thing.

A genteel snore from the linguist has me grinning and stepping lightly.  Carter yells at Daniel for working too hard.  Carter!  Teal'c and I just chew our nails fretting about the pair of them. 

The tent is tossed up in no time, mostly because you could blink and miss the damned thing.  A two-man pup?  Please.  Hound, maybe.

After laying a camp-fire that could get me a badge from any Scout Troop, I decide to patrol around the lair.  We're in a sleepy little hollow of fragrant meadow grasses and rocks, surrounded by a huge prairie-like slough that extends far beyond the range of the UAV.  Looking around, I can't decide if it reminds me of Africa or Kansas.  The rocks are purple, which doesn't help.

SG-7 are a radio call away, watching the soil science types in the research station.  Major Morrow commented bitterly that there's fuck-all else to do here, now that Hammond has stopped the team hacking the long grasses into rude messages for the UAV to spot.  Morrow actually knows what the scientists are doing here.  I'd hate to think I could be so bored I'd care.

Still, I'm not about to leave Sleeping Beauty snoring even if he is disturbingly arousing with his wrists tied and his mouth open and…

Objectification?  It's a very short step.  Straight down.  This is my friend, for Chrissake.


I stop in my tracks at the breathy little moan from Daniel, greedily drinking in his sudden sweet smile, the restless shifting of his hips.

My friend desperately needs to get laid.  Maybe even more than I do.

I wonder if he's thinking of me?


I'm steering us towards a table-land the UAV picked up.  Daniel is chattering as usual, and I don't mind, as usual.  It helps keep both our minds off the fact that we're insanely attracted to one another and lying about it to each other, even if we're both long past the stage of lying to ourselves.

"I can't understand why there's a gate here," Daniel says, turning from the trail he's blazing to glance back at me.

He's very good with a machete.  His timing is impeccable, much like the rhythmic swaying of his ass, a part of his anatomy which keeps me up at nights.  It's got me up right now, too, unfortunately.

"Civilisation leaves ineradicable evidence in the topography," Daniel comments intelligently.

Whatever.  Make with the ass!

"The UAV has circled out to its maximum range and there are no signs of habitation - no construction of any kind."

Daniel looks and sounds annoyed, not fascinated.

"You don't like it here, do you?" I say, curious.  Daniel waits until I catch up to him.

"Listen," he says in a soft, low voice.

We both listen, standing close but trying not to look, at least not at each other.  What I hear above the faint whispering of the breeze stirring the grasses is my heartbeat.  Daniel's breathing.  Mine.  The pulse of blood pounding in my ears.

"It's desolate."

I don't disagree.  "Maybe that's the point."

Daniel looks up at me, frowning, thinking this through.  As he begins to speak, my hand is moving, clapping over his mouth.  Daniel rocks back a step, snatching away from me, but not before I realise the soft warmth against my palm was an involuntary kiss.  He's bright red, so tense he's practically vibrating, all alone with me in this vast, oppressive stillness.  His eyes are begging me to lie, to make like I don't have a clue what just happened.

The trouble is, I do have a clue and I'm only human.  I swear its instinct that moves me.  Daniel is scared.  I hate to see it in him; he's supposed to be fearless.  At least, he was.  He's absolutely terrified when I grab him, literally cringing as my arms go around him.  I don't think there's a word for what he is when he feels my erection bulging against him.  Whatever he is, I'm right there with him.  He's as hot, hard and horny as I am, although I hope I'm not as pale as he's just gone.

This is not romantic.  We are not in the moment.  I have this gorgeous guy clasped tightly to my manly chest, and now I've got him I don't know what to do with him.  I feel like I'm fourteen again; wheezing, stupid and slightly nauseated.  Daniel appears to be hyperventilating.

This is ridiculous.  Two grown men who want to kiss one another should be able to get it together long enough to actually manage the lip lock.

"Let's do it," I blurt.

"Do what?" Daniel bleats, looking wild around the eyes.

My career is flashing before my eyes but I lean in and bang our noses painfully together anyway.  Daniel jerks back, his glasses hanging drunkenly.

I think we both realise at the same time its not going to happen.

"Crap," I sigh, feeling totally deflated.

"We have to - to - t-talk," Daniel stammers.

Adding insult to injury.  "And we didn't even get to lock lips," I bitterly complain.  Daniel's fingers don't seem to be working so I lend an assist with the glasses, gently hooking them back over both ears.

"Lock?"  Daniel's gentle mouth falls open.

"Lips."  I shrug like it's no big thing, which really pisses Daniel off.  His shy, disbelieving look fades to wary defensiveness and in the next breath he's hacking seven kinds of shit out of the grass, leaving me standing like a lump on a log in his machete-fuelled wake.

"What just happened?" I call after him, keeping a prudent distance.  The only intelligible word in Daniel's muttered response is 'jerk'.  "I'm sorry."

"I gathered."

"That wasn't second thoughts."  I have no idea what I'm talking about.  "Panic, maybe?" I suggest hopefully.  Throw me a frickin' bone, Daniel.  Drowning here.

Daniel stops in his tracks, directing a milder, enquiring look over his shoulder at me.  "Panic?" he prompts, revealing a hint of unwilling empathy.

I tactfully refrain from pointing out that if Daniel had been flapping any harder, he'd have taken flight.  "I've never actually…" I gesture between us, mano y mano.  "You know?"

Daniel nods.  Thank God he does know because there is no way in hell I am spelling it out, even if he is nibbling his lip and looking deliciously conflicted.

"Me either," Daniel admits, scrupulously honest.

"Want to?" I ask the grass behind his left shoulder.

"Do you?" Daniel asks the grass over my right.

It's not going to happen when he's ten feet away from me, something Daniel realises at the same time I do.  No way in hell either of us could just close that gap and - you know.  Do it.

We trudge along in brooding silence.  I never knew there was only one thing more awkward than making a pass at your closest friend.  Try not making a pass, and your friend knowing you wussed out.


This little plateau is very crowded, given it's just the two of us and all outdoors.  Daniel is not speaking to me.  He's been slumped on his ass pretending to be asleep for the past forty-one minutes.  I think I can call his bluff in about as many seconds.  I just lie down next to him.  After a moment, I slip my sunglasses on and lie with my arms folded over my chest, legs crossed comfortably at the ankles, just the same as Daniel.  We look like the Blues Brothers.

As I have no idea what to say and still less what to do, all I accomplish is prone silence.  I think Daniel is stealing little looks at me, but he's too quick for me to catch him at it.

Suddenly he surges up, leans over and plants one on me.

I'm so taken aback I don't do a damn thing.  Not that there's time.  Fastest strategic withdrawal on record.  I look over at Daniel, slumping again, his eyes determinedly closed, feeling justifiably aggravated.  "I know you're not asleep!  You just kissed me, for cryin' out loud!"

Daniel flips me the finger with the confidence of a man who at least attained lip lock on his closest friend.

"Want to try that again?"

"What for?" Daniel retorts, looking mulish.

"I wasn't ready!" I complain.  It occurs to me I'm overlooking the obvious here.  It takes two to tango.  I lean over Daniel and kiss him.  We actually make contact long enough for me to process a little sensory input before I roll away and make like it never happened.

Damn, he tastes good!  The lips?  Better than they look.  Softer.  Plumper.  Sweeter.  I am totally going to do this again.  Right now!  Damn retirement.

As I roll over again, Daniel looks right at me over the top of his sunglasses while he slowly, slowly licks his lips.  I get an honest to god quiver running right through me.  I lean in, staring intently, only to find Daniel's hand holding me back.  "Can I kiss you again?" I ask straight out, past caution.

"I'm not sure," Daniel says uncertainly.

"Why not?" I snap, stung.  If this is about technique, practice can only lead to improvement.

"For one thing, we have no idea when SG-whatsit will launch their rescue attempt," Daniel suggests tartly.

I'm annoyed that I have to give him this one, although I figure it'll be twelve hours minimum.  Carter, bless her PMS-evil little heart, will make them sweat for it.  "And?" I demand.

"I'm not sure I want to…" Daniel grimaces.  He also doesn't say what he's not sure he wants to…

I think I know.  "Have sex with me?" I ask instantly.

"How do you know you want to have sex with me?" Daniel counters.  "You've never done this either."

"I have an erection."

Daniel can't think of anything to say to that.

"I figure we just get naked and see what happens," I suggest.  "Back at the tent." I'm strongly drawn to the idea of slipping and sliding all over Daniel in the sleeping bags, zipped together.  Daniel shoots me an odd, slightly mischievous look, then meekly agrees.


Sex with Daniel.

"We should head back to camp," I shamelessly suggest.


An hour's walk may be enough to embarrass the shit out of Dr. Daniel Jackson, but the flyboy is made of sterner stuff.  I haven't been laid in so long I've almost forgotten how it works.  I'm not about to let Daniel come between me and having sex with Daniel.

The boy in question is so confident I'll be a mass of conflicted 'just say no!' apprehension he's almost swaggering.  It's doing extremely interesting things to his ass, which is curvy in the best way to start with.  He's walking - and blessedly not talking - motivation.

A slight doubt strikes him when we march into camp and I have to use both my hands in the small of his back to propel him across to the little tent.  If he really doesn't want to do this now - I refuse to even think 'ever' - I have every intention of jerking off loudly all night long, one sleeping bag over.

We discover almost immediately that it's impossible to make a sexy entrance to a tent you have to crawl into.  Daniel is visibly annoyed when I stuff him into a corner and start zipping.

"I can't believe you can coolly walk back here and want sex with your best friend!"

"Start undressing," I order, focusing on the only relevant thing.

Daniel grudgingly slips off his jacket, buying some time by folding it neatly.  He's going red again.

"It's not as if I haven't been imagining having sex with you," I tell him, trying for a nice, easy tone, and finding it, I think.  Daniel responds with a small, diffident smile.

"Me too," he admits, tackling his bootlaces with gusto.

"I'm aware that this isn't exactly - romantic."  That's an understatement.  "But it is very us," I add firmly.  I don't think that sounds very positive, to be honest, but Daniel appears to take it philosophically, neatly stuffing his left sock into his boot, then tackling the right.  "You do want?"  I look at him anxiously.  Daniel is definitely bashful, but there's this look in his eyes as he gazes at me.  I feel nauseated again.  It's excitement.  Or that burrito I had for breakfast.

"For a while."

The wistful longing in Daniel's voice hits close to home.  Too close.  Been there.  Done that.  Know I should wait to do this.  Daniel knows it too, which I guess is why he never said a word.  "I'm a selfish bastard."

Maybe Daniel agrees, but he still shifts his ass next to mine, looking at me like he wants to touch.  I yank my T-shirt over my head, which seems to help.  Daniel's fingers come up to rest on my bare shoulder.

"I'm in love with you, Jack," he whispers courageously, his voice shaking pitiably.

"Me too," I gently promise, touching his cheek.  His skin is warm, unbelievably soft.  "For a while."  Maybe this isn't the moment, but it's a moment, and this is us, so it's all we've got.  It seems right to kiss, so we do.  We lean in together, stop and look at each other, Daniel smiling suddenly, with such aching sweetness it cuts me to the bone.  He's trembling when his mouth brushes mine, his hand lifting to hold my face.

We're not rushing.  Taking it slow and easy, here.  Tasting.  Touching.  Soft, closed-mouth kisses.  Daniel is the one who leans back suddenly, pulling his T-shirt off.  My hands are on him before he has his head clear of the fabric.  He jumps when I touch him, but that's okay.  I've never touched him like this.  I've never had skin.  All I can think to do is lie down with him, hold him close, his heart beating madly against mine.  Daniel holds me too, stretching up to kiss again.

He hesitates, his mouth a breath from mine.  "I still don't know if I'm ready for sex, Jack."

I was.  I am.  I figure - let's wait a while.  Let's make love.  "Kissing okay?"  The relief on Daniel's face tells me this was the right call, the smart call.  He melts into me, soft eyed and clinging.  The kissing is way better than okay.  Daniel's tongue curls beneath mine, moist, tender pressure rubbing me just right.  The kissing is great but the guy - damn, but Daniel is absolutely delectable.

The guy is worth anything.

Even waiting.


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