I want to hitch further up
the bed, get away from Daniel, but that will put me in Carter's
lap. We're waiting for the all-clear from Fraiser and then we're
out of here. I need to be out of here.
Jesus, if Daniel was any
closer he'd be in my cammos with me. His arm is actually rubbing
against mine, he's so close. He keeps LOOKING at me. He's
hard to take in most moods, but tender-hearted, snuggling sympathy has
one's dick burning in hellfire.
I mean, he can't do this
to me. He cannot just walk around being this hot and this
clueless He's driving me nuts! Forget the frickin'
Jaffa. The most immediate danger is Death By Daniel.
Spontaneous human combustion. I'm way too human.
I don't know how much
longer I can go on...
"Jack?" Daniel asks gently.
"I've already got a
mother," I drawl.
"Sir!" Carter snaps.
Yeah, yeah, you were all
worried. Whatever. I'm worried. Right now.
Worried I'm not gonna make it out of the Infirmary without
my...er...condition becoming apparent. More apparent, that is.
"Colonel? Your MRI
is clean," Fraiser announces. "The chemical secreted by Ka..."
"Tyler," I snap.
Don't even try it.
"By Tyler has completely
dissipated. I'll clear you all to go home," Fraiser beams.
"Daniel, observe the usual post-zat drill and call me if you..."
She's smiling softly, taking the sting out of the sharp tone.
I don't know what the
opposite of a hypochondriac is, but that's my Danny.
"If I glow in the dark
I'll get back to you," Daniel grumbles, eyeing me a tad resentfully,
like it's my fault he's still tingling.
Hot and tingling.
It was an accident.
I wouldn't have given Tyler the zat if I'd known he was going to shoot
Daniel with it.
I think Fraiser thinks
Daniel is hot and he gets her tingly. She's not supposed to, but
colonels in glass houses and all...Just let me get OUT of here and into
a nice cold shower, take the edge off this puppy.
"Just a quick broad
spectrum anti-biotic shot and you're out of here, Colonel," Fraiser
tells me warmly.
As my kids jump down and
trot out of curtain range, shooting me sympathetic looks, I hold up my
arm imperatively. "The arm, right?" The arm. Not the
ass! Not now. Had Daniel's frigging biceps rubbing up
against me for half an hour. Glacial melt won't help me.
Fraiser squirts the needle
pointedly and waits.
I look significantly at my
arm. She looks significantly at my ass.
"Humour me," I snarl.
Which is more
embarrassing? Admitting I have a hard-on, or letting her find out
for herself? And is it me or is it hot in here?
Really...hot. Burning up here.
"It's a perfectly normal
reaction to stress," Fraiser says briskly, making little spinning
motions with the needle. "Drop them."
"They dropped decades
ago," I drawl. What, she's got twenty-twenty hard-on vision?
"I'd say that was
debatable," Fraiser snipes sweetly.
She's got the needle and
she knows it. So does my ass. It's quivering.
"Oy." I edge down off the bed, pointedly turn my back and drop my
drawers as instructed. God knows how I'm going to get all this
back in there.
"Just a small scratch,"
Fraiser croons. "There..."
Scratch my ass. I
wish. I flinch and hiss as the needle punctures me. Drives
deep into the flesh.
Getting the needle seems
to have deflated things enough I can take myself in hand, nip and
tuck. Well, a good hard shove and I can button up. I turn
to face her with as much dignity as I can muster. "You lie like a
rug. It hurts like crap and you know it."
Fraiser's face lights
up. "Good to have you back with us, Colonel. Now GO.
I need the bed space." She kerwooshes the curtain back with her
usual vim and I find myself face to face with Hammond, who eyes me
Carter and Teal'c have
already booked, but Daniel is still large as life and twice as hot,
right by Hammond's shoulder. I sigh. Could he at least take
off the frickin' bandana? I can't take that AND the biceps.
"I'd like a full
debriefing, Colonel, 07:00 tomorrow in light of your exhaustion," the
general suggests generously.
Thank God. I'm not
up to it today.
With the obvious
exception, of course. Couldn't be more up.
"Jack, I have some
concerns I need to discuss with you and your people," he adds gravely.
"Simmons," Daniel snaps.
I stiffen. Daniel is
tense and edgy. If my brain wasn't in my shorts I'd have picked
up on it sooner, but the three of them were so damn busy hovering
solicitously at my side and not in my lap where he belongs, peppering
me with kisses...questions. Er...I focus involuntarily on
Daniel's mouth. Lovely mouth. Lovely everything
really. Lovely guy.
Lovely clueless little
shit. Killing me, here!
I? Er...not the mouth, the ass...the asshole.
Simmons. He messed with my team? "General?"
tightly. "We'll talk tomorrow, Jack," he says quietly.
"Doctor, a word," he calls crisply as Fraiser is edging away.
"Sir," I acknowledge,
noting that Fraiser winces. Daniel drops into step at my side,
close enough to make with the arm brushing thing. Maybe I should
just cut through the Commissary, get myself an ice-pack.
"Fraiser?" I ask, desperately casual, totally focused on that satiny
skin just smoothing over mine. Over and over, with every step.
Daniel looks across at me
with one of his tiny trademark grins, the one that makes my heart kinda
flop sickeningly in my chest. I know. I KNOW. It's
totally embarrassing. It's not enough I love this guy, not enough
I fell in love with him, nooo, gotta go the whole hog and throw in a
goddamn crush too. I get goofy. It's sad. I'm sad.
Daniel glances around
edgily so I kinda have to lean in. Just so I can hear him.
No other reason. None whatsoever.
Nothing to do with skin,
satiny or otherwise, or those tendrils of hair I see framing his nape
Shit. I lie like a
"Janet ignored medical
protocol and disobeyed orders to help you out," Daniel murmurs softly.
She did? I guess my
surprise isn't very flattering to ol' Doc Fraiser. She's a bit of
a Carter when it comes to...
"Sam put her up to it,"
Daniel whispers proudly.
Carter and Fraiser broke
the regs? Carter? I mean, she did when her brain was in her
pantyhose but...Carter? "Jesus, Daniel, you're catching," I
grumble. Daniel's endearing little grin emerges again. I
can feel my vertebra dissolving.
"Sam gave Simmons shit
too," Daniel murmurs. "The loveless prick has been searching our
personnel files, Jack, along with mission reports...anything he can use
against us. Alien 'influences', clouded judgement. Prick,"
Daniel spits venomously. "He makes Maybourne look good. At
least Maybourne believed in what he was doing, and believed he was
doing it for the best. Simmons is a political animal, a
player. He has no convictions of any kind. I asked him what
his position was and he had nothing to say. Nothing."
Whoa. Daniel is so
uptight he's practically vibrating here. "You two had a run-in?"
"I had an official
interrogation," Daniel snaps. "We all did." He lightens up
suddenly. "The honours definitely go to Teal'c though.
Simmons dared to question Teal'c's loyalty and Teal'c told him if his
loyalty was in doubt it would be immediately apparent as he'd have no
hesitation in killing Simmons where he sat!" Daniel says cheerfully.
Daniel blushes and hangs
"Can't turn my back on you
kids for a second," I bitch. "Next P.E., I can just see what the
General will have to say about my inspirational leadership and ability
to motivate my team. 'Colonel Jerk O'Neill has indoctrinated SG-1
into his own regrettable mindset, which manifests itself in blatant
insubordination and general pissiness'." I faux-glare at Daniel.
"Although you came already pissy. No assembly required."
"Oh, and your record was
pure as the driven snow before you met me?" Daniel sneers gently.
"I was a textbook
officer," I reply with calm dignity.
"I thought they called it
an 'Unfavourable Information File'?" Daniel queries gently, all
The usual thing
happened. We got from the Infirmary to the locker room door with
me only aware of Daniel's presence and fuck-all else. I grin and
push at his shoulder before I hammer on the door. "Carter?
You decent?" I holler.
"Yes, Sir, come on in,"
Carter calls out.
"Damn!" I bitch as we go
in, Carter glancing up, smiling, as she folds something neatly back
onto one of her shelves and heads for the door. "Where's the big
Carter chokes a
little. "Armoury. He...er...wanted to..."
"Don't start with the
'compensation' talk, Carter," I warn jovially and she grins. "A
man's relationship with his gun is sacred."
Daniel snorts. "It's
not size that matters, Sam," he teases.
"It's what you do with
it," I finish gravely.
Carter looks like she has
a lot to say but if she does, she's got yarn in her future.
"See you at the
debriefing?" Carter prompts, heading over to the door. "Glad to
have you back with us safe, Sir," she says softly, smiling a little,
"Tearing up here, Carter
and you'd better book before I give YOU something to cry about," I
gripe. I shrug and briskly tug at my T-shirt, which usually
clears her out toot sweet. I've already said thanks for almost
getting wasted on the gateroom ramp, for insubordination, for the
perfect fucking time, for pulling my nuts out of the fire, yadda
yadda. I was kinda hoping I'd been mushy enough for one
day. Not that I'm ungrateful or anything, what with looking at
being dead or Goa'ulded if they'd turned up a minute later, I'm just
too tired to play the thank you game, kinda bone weary and sapped out
here. "Thanks," I say simply. She holds my eyes for a long
moment, then nods, smiles warmly at Daniel and books as ordered.
I turn to find Daniel with
his back to me dreamily undressing. I've got acres of smooth,
creamy skin and of course he's just pulled off the frigging bandana and
now I have rumpled just-outta-bed hair to contend with.
Forget glacial melt.
Maybe I should just crank up the heat and jerk off. It's the only
humane choice. I shuck my clothes in record time, kinda under my
towel before I'm outta my pants, then I haul ass for the shower while
Daniel is tackling his pants. A man can only take so much.
I try not to look. I
always try. I can't stop myself from thinking, but I try not to
look. I love him, but that doesn't give me licence to turn into
some kind of voyeur. It's incredibly difficult not to look, even
when you can't avoid seeing. The USAF doesn't exactly have
privacy at the top of its priority list. SG-1 is lucky. We
got these upscale digs, own closet, own shower stall. We get to
walk around a corner, we get a curtain you can pull. It's amazing
to me how erotic the human body is blurred by cascading water and
Teal'c has no hang ups
about nudity, the Jaffa lived communally. I used to have no
hang-ups about nudity, same damn reason. Air Force. It's
not expedient to get embarrassed. Some days I make it.
Daniel has hang ups about
nudity. He tends to time it so we're undressed and in before he
gets naked, he wears a robe to and from, he dresses and undresses with
his back turned...I try not to look. I lean against the wall,
letting the water pound and stab into my shoulders, driving out the
tension that never quits, not these days.
I hear the soft hiss of
the curtain, then the spray behind me. "Wanna talk about it?" I
"About what?" Daniel calls
"Whatever it is that has
that poker up your ass." O-kaay. Baaad example.
"Thanks," Daniel says
Glimpses. The long,
clean lines of his back and those slender, elegant feet. The
breadth of shoulder and the gentle flow of muscle over chest and
belly. Perfectly proportioned and...er..."Simmons upset you?"
TRY to keep the perving to
when you're off the clock, O'Neill. You're supposed to have some
standards. Officer. Gentleman. Whatever.
"He upset all of us,
Jack. According to Simmons, I'm emotionally guided and my
judgement gets clouded, Sam is suspect because of Jolinar and the
"Probe," I established
"Probe, and Orlin," Daniel
snaps, "and apparently Teal'c changes sides more often than Simmons
changes the oil in his car."
"Say what?" I snort
incredulously. "You're kidding me, right? What the...where
the hell did that crap come from?"
"Our personnel records,
apparently," Daniel snaps.
"There's nothing in them!"
Daniel says flatly.
"And what?" Daniel snaps.
"A suit like Simmons tells
you you're emotional and you don't wipe the floor with him?
When'd you stop fighting back? I must have blinked and missed
"I'm sympathetic to the
Goa'uld, did you miss that too?" Daniel says fiercely.
"What?" I call back
"Pucky?" Daniel asks
incredulously. "That's...that's not a word."
"Pucky is not a synonym
for shit," Daniel bridles.
"It was according to my
Great Auntie Nan."
"The English language in
all its elegant complexity and beauty doesn't adequately express what's
on the O'Neill mind so you HAVE to make up your own?"
Feel the love.
"Yeahsureyoubetcha," I say
cheerfully, soaping madly and avoiding you know what. Kind of
deflating on it's own now, thank God.
"That's a synonym," Daniel
informs me un-informatively.
"I got that," I
snap. "A synonym for?"
"Ass," Daniel murmurs
"Pucky," I call back but
my heart is in his ass. His ass. Mmm. One part of
Daniel I haven't had nearly enough quality time with.
The silence as I shampoo
half-heartedly is suggestive of linguistic victory.
"You gonna tell me or do I
have to come in there and scare the pucky outta ya?" I demand as I
rinse. When I first realised I'd slunk snapping and snarling into
love with Daniel I did this whole passive-aggressive number on
him. I'm better now. I do supportive-libidinous so much
better. Maybe I could risk soaping the 'sensitive' parts...
"Well, make sure you bring
mean...he didn't...I juggle madly and the slippery little bastard still
gets away from me...
under the curtain and clean across the slick tiled floor...
I snatch open the curtain
and peer out just as Daniel bends down to retrieve the soap, which
apparently hit him in the butt.
sad. That's really sad. I'm just a man with a one-ass mind.
The breath whooshes out of
my lungs explosively. Butt. Right in front of me!
Does he HAVE to wave it around like that? The curtain is...is
cupping a real eyeful as Daniel tries to scoop up the soap. I
just hang off my curtain and stare. Daniel's ass is a thing of
beauty. It could make grown men weep, and if he keeps waving the
damn thing around it goddamn will. Pick up the soap
already! Have some pity, man!
He looks like he'd fit
right in my hands. It's kind of taut and...peachy. I swear,
he makes Carter look...wide. Carter! All I can think about
is being buried in that sweet, tight ass until the day I die. I
know what to do. I've read. Extensively. Daniel would
die if he knew Jack O'Neill could research. Extensively.
Got it all down, word and picture perfect. I'm sure I could make
it good, that I could make love to him as he deserves, slow, tender and
deep. I could. I want to.
Just have this liiiittle
"Hey, Daniel. You
wanna go out tonight?"
"Do I have to talk?"
"Swear to God you won't."
"Okay, fine," Daniel's
voice brightens up as he finally retrieves the soap.
I sag limply against the
wall. I've got so much blood pounding in my dick I feel faint.
"Where do you want to go?"
Daniel calls happily.
This is my problem.
Daniel is my friend. He loves to hang with me. He's never
sappy enough to say so, but he does. He never says no, no matter
how tired or anxious or hurt or angry he is. Or I am. If
it's bad, we'll talk. We both know that going in. Neither
of us is the kind that talks, but we each seem to have the key to
opening the other up, and we talk regardless. I'm beat, but I'm
fine. Daniel is pissed and upset. He knows I'll nag him
mercilessly 'til he spills, but he's coming anyway.
He loves to hang with
me. We've been dating for months. Really dating.
Going out instead of staying in to watch a game or a movie. We've
been to dinner all over the city. We've been to movies.
Concerts. A play. To a guy like me, that's dating.
Courting, if you will. To Daniel, that's hanging. If I get
him season tickets rink-side for the Gold Kings, maybe he'll think
that's dating. I ask him if he wants to go out with me? He
wants to go. I ask him if he wants to come over, he rents a
movie, buys take-out and turns up bright-eyed and bushy tailed. I
ask him if he wants company, he cooks. I turn up with flowers
some day, he'll just thank me and stick the little buggers in a
tasteful Etruscan vase or something.
Daniel never says
no. He said yes to Jell-o. Jell-o.
I'm doomed to
celibacy. Daniel will never buy a clue on his own and I don't
know what the fuck to do. Any other man I know would look at me
like I was nuts if I took him to a PLAY. He'd ASK me if it was a
frickin' date or something. Tell me to get a clue. Get a
life. Get a grip.
I want to get a
grip. On Daniel.
I am going to die if that
does not happen soon.
I'm going nuts! I
know I am, because I can see the punctuation when I THINK. Three
exclamation marks to madness. I'm on two point nine nine
Woo. Look at
that. All I needed to do was calculate the Satan-skating odds of
Daniel and I ever getting it and us together and my little problem just
went away on its own. Time to book if I can get out with a shred
of dignity. I snatch up my towel and haul ass while Daniel is
rinsing, drying and making himself decent.
I'm dried and half-dressed
in record time, just buttoning my shirt when Daniel emerges in his
robe, damp around the edges and rumpled.
I sigh as interest
resurges. Hot, hot, hot. It's so unfair. I'm ordinary
Joe. I should NOT have to put up with Action frigging
Jackson. If I wasn't Special Ops I'd never have even met a man
like Daniel. I would never have found out what I was missing and
I wouldn't be wearing myself out wanting what I'm never going to
get. I drop to the bench and yank on my socks. I'm
looking. Boy, am I looking as I lace up my boots. Forget
the gentleman crap. Pervert is WAY more rewarding. He's
just shucked the robe and we're talking clinging re the
underwear. The ass? Mine eyes have seen the glory.
The ass is to die for and right now I'm thinking it may come to that.
"Where'd you want to go
tonight?" Daniel asks chattily as he pulls on his jeans.
Ass still very much in evidence, which means he's going to ruin the
effect and bury it under something plaid in the vain, despairing hope
people won't drool on him, present company not excepted.
"How about the Dale Street
Café?" Only Colorado Springs' most romantic restaurant.
You eat in a frickin' summer garden.
"They do great pasta,"
Daniel murmurs agreeably, bending gracefully to tie his shoes.
time. I need to breathe deep. I need to breathe.
He stretches up and lifts
something black and slinky from a hanger.
He drops it over his
head. Oh. Sweater. There goes the ass and my last
remaining dregs of sanity with it. Think I just hit three point
one exclamation marks. Maybe I could get Nick's old room in
Oregon. Maybe Daniel would come visit and I could get some hack
to convince him sex was therapeutic.
He doesn't realise how much it clings or he SO would not be wearing
it. That little dip where the collar falls open, baring the
hollow of his throat? Sweeeet.
I can't stand this.
I truly can't. I'm going mad.
"Jack?" Daniel asks,
faintly puzzled as he catches me staring. Then his lips
tighten. "You want me to spill? I'll spill afterdessert."
"Daniel, would you like to
go out with me?" I ask jerkily, getting to my feet.
"I think we already
covered that, Jack," Daniel eyes me cautiously. "Um...are you
"Nope," I say
stiffly. "I mean out, Daniel. As in, Go Out With Me."
"I Am Not Arguing," Daniel
You Are Also Not
Clueing!!! "On a date, you dimwit!" I blurt desperately as my
unwilling feet plant me right in front of him.
"A date?" Daniel blurts
back, eyes widening, lips...parting.
I'm going in. "An
assignation, engagement, rendezvous, tryst..."
French..." Daniel mutters giddily as I cup his face in my hands and
draw him in. "Pucky..." he bleats, "Mmmph!"
Lovely mouth. Didn't
I say? Lovely. Just...sweet and soft and firm and pouting
and parting...Daniel moaning as I slip in and say mine. Shoulda
been 'hi' but mine fits. We fit. We fit together
perfectly. I touch my tongue to his and feel him shiver against
me as he leans in, grabs my waist for balance. I touch and then I
stroke sensuously, slowly. I figure if he's going to knee me in
the nuts I should go down with a bang as well as a whimper.
I don't want to
surface. I just want to feel. God, he's incredible.
Warm, silken tenderness and tentative curiosity, pushing gently back
against my probing tongue as I ease gradually deeper.
My hands gravitate down
and cup Daniel's ass reverently. His breath hitches and the hands
at my waist tighten convulsively but he doesn't knee me or shove me
away. I knead and stroke him urgently as the kiss deepens from
careful to passionate, tongues tangling and warring pleasurably,
thrusting languidly against one another in deep, lingering glides.
Easiest goddamn thing in
the world to fall into this man and never come up, never again.
Have to. Have to
breath. So does Danny, unless that sob in his throat is joy.
I have to peel myself off
him a molecule at a time is what it feels like. He looks like I
feel. Dazed. Flushed and...aw, crap. Flushed and
"You picked your goddamn
time, O'Neill!" Daniel spits when he can talk. "Simmons just told
me my whole life is their business and you have to pull this?"
Furious and yet strangely
not letting go.
"Simmons?" I wheeze.
"Fuck him!" Daniel snarls,
leaning in to snatch a fierce, bruising kiss of his own, which I give
into shamelessly, biting his lip. "I'm warning you, O'Neill, I am
not waiting for sex as long as I've waited for you to ask me out,"
Daniel threatens dangerously.
"Whaddya mean, ask you
out? I've been asking you out for six months!" I hiss
furiously. Er...Losing it here.
"Wanna grab some food,
Daniel? Wanna watch a movie? Catch a game? An
opening? Grr," Daniel growls.
"Don't tell me I'm cute."
"All dates," I insist.
"A date is me naked in
your lap with a bowl of cherries," Daniel snaps.
He's blushing and...
"Do not tell me I'm cute!"
"Cherries? I don't
like cherries," I protest the only point I can actually make sense of
right now. I want him? I get him? Er...what's wrong
with this picture, apart from me? I get Daniel?
Daniel? I'm gonna wake up dead any minute, right?
"I do. I love
them. I'm eating, you're....watching."
How can he be so damn sexy
and shy? It's...it's nothing. Nah. Looking at those
eyes and quittin' while I'm ahead. "And I'm..." I trail off
"Dressed," Daniel says
crisply. "Dying of frustration. It's way more fun for me
"I've got news. I
died from frustration months ago. New plan," I insist.
"If it involves headgear
of any kind forget it," Daniel says instantly.
"You've got a
fetish. Don't think I haven't noticed." Daniel looks at me
with narrowed eyes. "That goes for both of us."
Headgear? "A minor
interest at best and just how is it you're not completely freaked by
this?" I still think this is going to blow up in my face
somehow. Too surreal to be true.
"By what?" Daniel asks
sweetly, leaning in to blow gently in my ear.
"THIS and did I say you
could stop? Blow me!" I order.
"I figured you were doing
enough freaking for both of us," Daniel adds a little lobe-nibbling and
tugging to the blowing.
I'm completely without
shame when I moan helplessly. In total erotic thrall here.
There has got to be a grocery store between here and home. Has to
be. I'll break in if I have to. Freaking? "Freaking?"
I demand suspiciously.
Daniel blows again.
"Freaking. It's taken you six months to work up the nerve to ask
me out, Jack," he whispers, kind of swirling his tongue around in
there, "I wasn't even expecting the kiss."
"If you mention sexuality
I'm so outta here," I threaten, arching my neck so he can do the swirly
"Well, you're not exactly
experienced," Daniel murmurs, obediently swirling.
I hoot derisively.
"And you Aare?" Daniel bites me, which makes us both shiver
pleasurably and cling a little closer.
"I've read," Daniel admits
"I bet I've read more."
Daniel jerks back to look
at me disbelievingly. "You read? For me?" His eyes go
very soft on me.
"I read MORE." I'm
thoroughly prepared for any eventuality. "And I'm not
sweet." Daniel looks unconvinced. "Anybody walks in here?"
I jerk my thumb at the locker room door. "I'm telling them you
"I've got a huge bowl of
cherries at home, right now," Daniel says flatly. "It's up to
you. 'Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are'?"
"Yes?" I have so
"Chapter Nine," Daniel
O-kaay. "You can tell them I was crying." I'll blub all
over the state if I don't get Chapter Nine. I do like the idea
of...er...blowing everything at once. "You think I'm repressed,
Daniel gives a tiny shrug.
"You should know," I say
The shrug segues into a
scowl. "Could you get your hands off my ass?" Daniel asks coldly.
"See? I'm way ahead
of you," I point out pleasantly. "You couldn't even touch mine."
"I'm more familiar with
the terrain," Daniel says just as pleasantly. "I've been watching
it for months."
"You've been looking?" I
"You haven't?" Daniel asks
pityingly. "And how could I not, the way you were flaunting it at
me every chance you got."
"I'm an officer and by
definition a gentleman," I snap indignantly. "Whaddya mean,
"Waving it around every
chance you got. Exhibitionist," Daniel accuses briskly.
"I'm an archaeologist and by anybody's definition a pervert, so let's
get right to the part where we make out like crazed weasels. With
cherries. God knows you've kept me waiting long enough," he adds
"I did not keep you
waiting. You kept me waiting." This is such a self-evident
truth it bears repeating until he caves and admits it, however long it
"I fell in love with
you! I've been wanting you for months. If you hadn't been
so damn clueless," Daniel accuses, stalking over to the door, "I've
could have been having you for months."
"You love me?" Yeah,
definitely gonna wake up dead. He thinks I'm hot and he loves
me? No way!
Daniel's face falls. "You don't? I thought...I mean, that's
why I...I waited," he stammers. "So long," he adds, ruining the
"Don't be stupid,
Daniel. Of course I...you know," I wave a vague hand.
"You're cute when you
blush, it's part of the whole nervous virgin charm."
Jeez. "Yeah, well, at least I'm not a nervous virgin in
plaid." Daniel stiffens and glares at me as I slouch over to my
locker. I grab the rest of my stuff, sourly watching Daniel
dancing with impatience at the door. Not exactly be still my
beating heart time. I completely love this guy, completely, but
I'm fairly pissed to tell you the truth. The honours are a little
too even for my liking.
"Um-hm?" I pull on my hat
"Remember what I said
"This is my frickin'
hockey hat!" I love this hat. I went to a goddamn play for him
and he's giving my wardrobe attitude?
"Fine. Wear it at
games. Just don't expect me to sit next to you."
love him, completely pissed.
This is real, alright.
"'Come Out, Come Out,
Wherever You Are'? Chapter Seventeen." I glare at him.
"Oh." Daniel bites
"What's your size?"
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