GOING DOWN PART TWO  BY PHOENIXE
Slash:  Jack and Daniel involved in a loving and committed relationship, which usually involves sex.
Rating: R
Category: Angst, First Time, Humour
Season/Spoilers: Pick one.  Any time after season 3  Itty bitty spoiler for Shades of Grey
Synopsis: Jack and Daniel go head to head on the playing field in an alien arena.  One of them is going down!
Warnings: :Language.  Skin.  Lots and lots of skin.
Length:  222 Kb  Originally completed Mar 07. Posted here 1 Sep  08  

Story Notes: This story was originally written as a response to a monthly challenge on Pepe's list from a loooong, long time ago.  We were supposed to pick a story title from the issued list and this is the one I chose.  The month during which the challenge was issued came and went, and the story languished on my hard drive, unfinished.  That is until I dusted it off and whipped it into shape for Chance and the memorial zine I put together for her over a year ago.  I had her very much in mind while I was writing it. I hope I did her justice; pretty sure she would have gotten a kick out of it.  I think this is my ultimate Jack and Daniel naked story, and not in the way one usually thinks of them being together in the altogether.  Certainly what I do to Daniel, well, read it and find out.  Heh.  This story also contains what I personally feel is the funniest line I've ever written. Still cracks me up every time I see it.  Anyone who wants to venture a guess which one, ask me and see if you're right! Oh yeah, and those of you who have seen the 'In Our Hearts' version, there is a new scene in this story, just after the gateroom scene.  Enjoy!


And here we are, jogging down a long, brightly lit, gently sloping tunnel, Daniel and me, neck and neck, our homies trotting along behind us.  Daniel isn’t looking at me, goes without saying he’s not speaking to me either.

Suits me just fine.  Even though, come to think of it, the number of times I’ve wished he’d stop prattling on about this and that and he never does, in this particular instance his sudden silence is admittedly inconvenient.  That is to say, although I presume we’re headed for the playing field, finally, I haven’t got a clue what happens once we get out there, or how you play the game, even, but I’m thinking Daniel does, or at least, if he doesn’t have the entire picture, he’s got more of a clue than me, and right now, if he weren’t extremely pissed at me, which he is, he’d be sharing, talking me through it, telling me what comes next, which he most definitely is not.

That is, if he knows.  But, knowing him, I’m betting he does.

Well, I guess we’ll never know, one way or the other, ‘cause for sure I’m getting nuthin’ out of him right now.  That’s fine, it’s not like I’ve never had to wing it before, this head on my shoulders isn’t just decorative, I’ll have you know, I’ve managed to get by just fine in enemy territory with virtually no intel on more than one occasion before I had Anthroboy here to interpret the universe for me.

I can get by on the fly with the best of them.  From the looks of things we’d better start flapping.

Oooh hoo, there’s the light at the end of the tunnel.  Big one, big honking entrance leading to…wherever the hell it is we’re eventually ending up.   It’s showtime!

Straight-backed, eyes fixed immutably forward, jaw clenched so tight a muscle in his cheek is practically doing a Morse code dance Daniel trots on through the gap like he knows exactly what he’s doing, and I’m keeping right up.  Whither wherever thou goest, and all that jazz.  I’m with ya, pal.  I might not know which end is up, but no way I’m letting you see me sweat.

Oh.  My. God.

I know Daniel said the Quaar were nutso about this game but there’s nutso and then there’s –

Now this, this is completely deranged!

This place is huge!  My God, you could fit three astrodomes under this dome, wow…that’s a looong way up there, almost can’t see the top of this joint, holy shit, are those clouds? Naaah, couldn’t be. And as for the size of the playing field… crap, I have to run the length of this thing just once and I’m gonna be dead!  Wooo, lookit all the people, tiers and tiers of places for folks to park it, stacks and banks of seats  going on up to the frigging sky, there must be enough seating to accommodate everyone on the frigging planet – and it looks they’re all here!

The joint is packed! The second we hit the field they all go insane, a couple of zillion people slam to their feet and holler their heads off and this ear-shattering roar goes up, so loud I swear the air around us is vibrating.  I don’t even want to think about what it’s doing to my eardrums.   Our happy little company doesn’t break stride in the face of the heroic reception; we keep jogging down the sidelines while the crowd goes wild.  A writhing, shrieking mass of jumping, waving, screaming fans streams past me, filling the periphery of my vision, their enthusiasm not only freaking me out but threatening to deafen me in the bargain, but I can’t go gawking on back at them at the moment.  I’m trying to keep up, keep my wits about me and keep focused on picking up the steps from the silent man at my side and then suddenly Daniel wheels right and…

Whoa!  How the hell did I miss this, I know it’s hard not to be slightly overwhelmed by the welcome, not to mention…God, this place is big, but that…

Hovering over the centre of the field is this cube, roughly the size, and this is just a guess here, of, oh, the planet, looks like a giant video…thingee, with screens on every side, and this voice is booming out all around us, the commentator, I’m guessing, oh wait, that’s my name, the guy is talking about me, can’t make out what he’s saying, though, but I definitely heard my name.  Whatever he’s telling these folks, hope it’s something good.  Yeah, it must be everybody’s cheering, aw crap – look up in the sky, Ma, that’s me, all over the cube.  Yikes, talk about your close-ups; I’m blown up big enough to fit up on Mount Rushmore .

Crap, that isn’t even my best side.

Wow.  Lookit, I’m huge! You could fly a missile up my nose, but I don’t know why you’d want to.

We keep jogging across the field, crowd still going totally nutso, fanfare blazing, lasers and alien fireworks blasting from one end of the dome to the other, so far as all of it goes, discounting the whole Mount Rushmore treatment, which I could have done without, this is actually…not too bad.  Also feeling kinda familiar, in a weird sort of deja view way.  If I didn’t know I was on another planet I could swear I was smack dab in the middle of the Superbowl, not a lot of difference in what’s going on around here versus the sort of pre-game hoopla in your average astrodome in the good ole US of A except, of course, when I’m seeing, and experiencing, I’m usually…up there, in the moderately expensive seats, instead of…

Yanno, this situation is kind of ironic, actually, if you think about it, I mean, considering before I got rooked into this whole wild ride what was uppermost on my mind was getting the heck back home for the game, so I guess you could say I sort of kind of got my wish.

Who says the universe doesn’t have a sense of humour?

You see, I got game, but not quite the way I originally figured it.  In my former blissful ignorance of what was yet to come what I was originally anticipating involved my rec room and the wide screen, which I will admit is nowhere in the same league as the alien version of HD – that is the HUGE Definition action we’ve got going here, but anyway, with regards to my game, my participatory expectations were definitely much more of the spectator variety.  Yep, the most strenuous activity I was expecting during game time was jumping up and down and yelling when my team scored a goal, and walking to the fridge to get another beer.  Fully dressed, I might add, although it is true I have been known to indulge in the occasional au natural viewing, however, that’s something no one needs to know but me. 

Yeah, clothing is nice.  Wish I had a bit more now. Not to mention a beer.  Or several.  Wonder if they even have beer on this planet, or a suitable alcoholic substitute. Well if they do I have confidence Carter, wherever the hell she is, has already gathered the necessary intel.  She’s probably having mine as we speak.

God, more running.  So far since hitting this damned field after what already feels like an eternity ago, we’ve been jogging our guts out, and I gotta tell you, this goes on much longer, I’m gonna be too pooped for the main event.  Although, I’m not as tired as I probably should be, for all the scampering I’ve been doing, wonder if it’s got anything to do with the stuff we’re running on, feels kinda weird, sorta…bouncy.  Whatever it is, it’s definitely not Astroturf, for starters it’s white, which is different, but I can live with it, and then there’s the whole trampoline effect which I’m actually starting to think might be a really good thing, considering how much time I’m probably going to be spending being slammed into the stuff and all. 

Okay, we finally seem to be actually going somewhere; we’re headed for the big yellow oval under the cube.  Huge white flash in the middle of the oval, huge roar from the crowd, oh look, it’s the Dodg, all decked out in this glittering robe and pointy hat almost three times as high as he is.  What, is he the ref or something?  Being the leader of the people isn’t enough for him he’s gotta moonlight as a sports official too?   Oh well, guess I should count my blessings; at least he didn’t bring Carter with him.

As we get closer to the obviously venerated head of this particular state and the patch of ground he’s standing on I can see two coloured lines on either side of him, one green, one blue, bisecting the entire length of the yellow oval.  I can make a fair guess what my next move should be and head for the green line even as Daniel and his boys veer for the blue.  He hasn’t said a word, hasn’t even looked my way once, so even though we’ve finally, I hope, arrived, I’m still as much in the dark as when this whole carnival commenced.

So, I don’t know what I’m doing.  So what.  When have I ever let that stop me? Who needs you, Anthroboy, I can handle myself just fine with or without your culture commentary.

The boys bow to the Dodg, I quickly follow suit and duck my head, he acknowledges us with a serene smile and an expansive wave of his arms, making his glitterball gown throw sparks all over the place.  I’m trying not to giggle at the hat, but I gotta tell you…some of the stuff I’ve seen what passes for sartorial on the different planets we’ve visited, you gotta wonder what people are thinking, the get-ups they go about in; do they have any idea how stupid they look?  This hat, this really takes the cake, it’s just about the funniest thing I’ve ever seen, even funnier than the salad bowl topper of Tuplo’s.  And that was a seriously funny hat.

What is wrong with me; I must be totally out of what little is left of my mind, I’m going off about hats now…

Wait a minute, wait a minute, what’s going on now, we’re bending, we’re stretching, we’re doing some sort of weird-ass alien tai chi routine while the Dodg looks on and smiles at us. What is this, the warm-up? More fucking ritual?    Geez, trying to keep step with the dude on my right but I’m at least three behind and it’s not helping while all of us are bending and stretching these huge…images…flashing across the cube, which, and I can hardly believe this, has a fifth side, on the bottom, so even though we’re directly underneath it, we can look up, and still see…

I don’t know where these pictures are coming from, I don’t see any camera crews running along the sidelines, but something is panning over every guy on this field, one by one, putting them up on the thousand foot high screen while they’re going through their paces, what’s all that gibberish running underneath, squiggly writing of some sort, I don’t read alien so good, so I’m just guessing here, probably their names, and game-related stats, that would make sense but in this place, who knows. Woah, look at these guys!  I thought they were big before, but put ‘em up there, all blown up and…you can see every muscle…and bulge, especially when they bend over…like that…wow, look at the ass on that guy, what is he doing, putting his foot behind his head, okay that’s not right, shouldn’t even be possible, and they’d better not be expecting me to turn myself into a human pretzel because I gotta tell ya, not happenin’!

Ah geez, there’s Daniel!

Hey, he’s not doing too bad, he’s following the moves pretty good, stretching in time with the other guys.  He’s…big…too, and…damn, is he built. 

Wow…

He looks good.  Really, really good…

I knew that, I mean, I know he’s in great shape, and he’s…that is, I’ve heard, as guys go, he’s…attractive.  Hot…even, and yeah, I’ve noticed, in passing, you understand, when I’ve seen him nearly…and…naked, that he hasn’t exactly been beaten up with an ugly stick, but even though I see him all the time, sometimes with no clothes on, I know what he looks like, I’ve never seen him like this.  I mean, when you’re standing next to him in the locker room while you’re both stripping off, or watching him, in the shower – not that I do, watch him, when he’s…showering…or anything, he’s…well he’s…yeah, I would go so far as to say he’s…good looking, not that I really noticed, because I haven’t, not – not really, but now, it hard not to he’s up there, all of him…up there, and all over, bigger than a billboard, hell, he’s so big you could probably see him back at the SGC and you can see everything he’s got, practically, even with the skirt, whoa… if anything the skirt is making things…clearer…the way he’s oiled down, the material, God, it’s clinging, outlining every curve, every bulge…

Jesus, he might as well be naked!  It’s a damned good thing he’s not looking up ‘cause if he could see himself, like this, so…over-exposed, not to mention…blown up, well, he wouldn’t like it much, even though the crowd seems to be digging the show and him pretty fine.  Yeah…he’s putting on quite the show, even though he doesn’t have a clue.  Quite the show.  The camera’s  staying on him an awfully long time.  Not that I’m complaining, I’m just saying, but it is, while he keeps on going, making with the moves, not looking up, not getting this drop in the noise level is due to every eye in the place…glued to that screen and the huge image of him, the camera, or whatever, following his every move, panning over each inch of his body, close-up and personal, like…like…

Making love…

Daniel’s eyes are closed, he’s really getting into it now, oooh, look at the way he’s moving, so slowly, graceful, slick, gleaming muscles undulating beneath his skin, now he’s bending low, butt cheeks bunching…oooooh, that’s….nice…stretching…wayyyyy out and then surging back up again, lifting his arms, breathing deep, close-up on his chest, rising and falling, dewy and gleaming with oil and…sweat, little bead lightly, slowly dribbling…down, right there, between his pecs, you can see it so clearly, something so damned sensuous about it, can’t help watching it…easing on down that glistening  skin, slowly sliding…slithering down his heaving chest and suddenly I can’t stand it II want to reach out…wipe it away…touch that moist skin, looks so good, like it was made for touching, run my finger along that pert nipple or maybe even…

Lick…

I feel something slam in the pit of my gut, like a clenched fist and I wanna hurl. Oh my God, what’s happening to me, I shouldn’t be thinking this way about…about Daniel for God’s sake, but I am and he is, he is beautiful, the most gorgeous thing I’ve eve seen in my life and I know it’s crazy but I want…I want…

I really do.  I can’t, but I do!

Well, isn’t this just peachy, this has to be the stupidest place in the universe to be having an epiphany but I am, right here, right now, but I can’t, can’t, gotta put the brakes on fast, ‘cause if I don’t stop thinking about it, and him…like this, I’m gonna be having something else this isn’t exactly the best place for either considering how little I’m wearing.  The folks here will be getting enough entertainment out of me as it is without upping the rating to NC-17.

Too late! Daniel’s off the screen and I’m looking up at me – standing stock still, staring up like a moron with my mouth hanging open, a thousand feet of gob-smacked idiot with a hard-on on display in front of the whole frigging planet.

Go away! Zoom in on something else! Dammit! There’s nowhere to hide, nowhere to go, I look like a freaking idiot, which is exactly the way I feel and evidently the crowd thinks so too, because we’re getting a fair bit of guffawing from the stands, followed by applause and cheering.

Someone please kill me. 

Finally the camera moves on to the next guy, thank God, and we’re wrapping up the entertainment portion of the evening.  The boys belay the bending and stretching and the Dodg holds up his arms again.

Are we starting yet?  I still don’t know what’s going on; maybe it’s time I found out.  If Daniel won’t talk to me maybe I can get something out of hat dude here.

“Um, your Dodgness?”  I pipe up, taking a step toward him.

“Kal-nel!”  The Dodg wheels and flashes me a big, toothy grin.  “You honour us with your presence!”

Huh, that’s not the way I heard it.

“Um, thanks, the honour is all mine,” I answer him.  “I’m…pleased to be here and all, but it’s just…what do I do, now I am?  Here, I mean.”

The old guy frowns.  “No one has explained?”

“Well, yes and no.  I know Daniel and I are – we’re the ones who have to score, but how exactly it’s done, what the rules are…”

“Rules?”  The Dodg frowns again.  “There are no rules.  You must run, as must Doctor Jackson.” He turns and points toward the left end of the field.  “You are the Zarder of the Vlins.  If you reach the objective before him, the Vlins will be victorious.  That is all.”

One goal takes the game? Just one?  I only have to run down the field once?

“All I have to do is make it down  there - once?”

This sounds too easy!

“If you are able,” the Dodg smiles mysteriously.

Ooookay, I am sooo not liking the sounds of this.  Dead man running theory just confirmed.

Yeah, well, they’ll have to catch me first, the second the whistle blows, I’m so outta here, they won’t see my dust for my dust.

“Radda!” the Dodg suddenly booms, lifting his arms high.  The crowd roars, I jump a foot in shock from the sound, and Daniel  puts on an evil grin and starts walking toward me.

Oh crap, what now?

“Put your hands on my shoulders,” he hisses, clamping both his on mine, and squeezing hard.

Oh, so now you’re talking to me, are you?  You sure know how to pick your moments. Better late than nothing, I suppose.

“Daniel, what the hell is going on?” I hiss at him, and do the shoulder-grasping thing.  He doesn’t say anything; just glares at me and leans in close ‘til our foreheads are touching.

I’m getting that…innervating and yet inconvenient…feeling…again, need to back off, just a little, but the second I try he clamps down on my shoulders – ow!  Not so hard!

“Hey! Easy, no bruising the merchandize!”

“What’s going on, is you’re going down,” he snarls, not relaxing the vice grip one iota.

Crap, he means it; this has gone way beyond him being merely pissed with me. Daniel is on a personal mission to terminate me with extreme prejudice.

Yeah, In his dreams.

“Sez you. Fat chance, geekboy, you’re gonna need to shower for a week to get my footprints off your back.” I jeer right back at him.

I know, egging him on, getting him even madder, makes me look as stupid as I usually appear, but you see, I have a plan.  Really.  Now, Daniel in his right mind is a pretty smart guy, but, little secret here, pissed Daniel equals stupid Daniel, when he gets really mad all those brains – right out the window.

Hey, I need every edge I can get here, even if there is no way in hell he could ever take me, it doesn’t hurt to hedge your chances.

“God!  You are so – so –“ 

Daniel is so pissed he’s incapable of completing a sentence and stuttering.  God, I’m good.

“I know you are, but what am I?”  I grin at him and blow in his face.

Juvenile, I know, but at this point, the more annoying I am the better.  From the way he’s trembling and that steam currently shooting out of his ears; I’ve achieved my objective; boy’s brains are boiling right out of his head and he’s thinking none too clearly.  My job is done here, now I gotta focus on eking whatever remaining scraps of intel I can out of the environment during the few seconds my unerring instincts tell me I got left before whatever kinda hell’s in my immediate future…breaks loose.

Thirty seconds to threat-assess? What the hey, I’ve done a whole lot more with a heck of a lot less.  Okay, okay, what’s going on here Daniel and I are in a clinch in front of the Dodg, two lines of guys behind us, a clear path between ‘em to where we’re supposed to be headed.  So, to get to where we’re going, we have to run the gauntlet, past all the other guys?  Kinda like a hazing line, or corridor of doom.  Oh, oh, that’s not a comforting image, is that the game plan, the second the whistle blows, are they going to jump all over us to keep us from getting where we’re supposed to be going?  Is that what the Dodg meant by, ‘if you can?’

Great, this thing between us will be settled before it’s even begun, no worries about which one of us is going to come out on top; we’ll both be dead before we get five feet.  

“ZOT!”  The Dodg yells, and before I’ve a chance to blink Daniel steps into me, grabs me around the waist swiping my legs out from under me with a swift, efficient motion.  Down I go, and the next thing I know I’m flat on my back, staring up at the cube, and myself, lying flat on my back staring back down at me, and meanwhile Daniel –

The sneaky bastard is smoking down the line of guys towards the open field like his ass is fitted with afterburners. 

Sonofabitch! That was the kick-off, nice of Daniel to clue me in!  I can’t believe he got the drop on me like that!  Damn you, Jackson , you’re a dead man; nobody makes a monkey of Mrs. O’Neill’s little boy!

Cursing I scramble to my feet.  Daniel is headed away at a pretty good clip, but I’m fast too, he hasn’t got that much of a head start on me, I can catch him.

No problem.  And when I do…

I’m up, I’m about to head out, but suddenly, I’m confused. I know the fact Daniel currently is where he is, means, obviously the boys didn’t jump all over him when he zoomed past ‘em, and, I’m hoping that also means they’ll grant me the same courtesy. But what’s the deal, here, why are all the other guys just standing there, not doing anything but staring at me like they’re waiting for me to change colour or something?

“Run, Benack!” someone hollers from behind me, about the same time I feel several huge hands on my back and an enormous shove sends me stumbling several steps forward. 

Okay, no pushing, I’m going, I’m going!  Keep your shirts on, I get it, me, Zardoz, must run after Daniel, I get it, I’m going. Gone. Don’t sweat it or anything, talk amongst yourselves while I do all the work, here!

Still feeling slightly wobbly from the turbo boost I scoot on past the double line of hulking, scowling bruisers, thanks for the kick start, best ignite my own ass now and make some serious tracks if I’m gonna catch up Speedy Gonzales, who, during the few seconds I wasted getting my bearings, has already considerably widened his lead.  I’m thinking the name I just call got called wasn’t exactly complimentary, and possibly whoever shoved me wasn’t supposed to provide the power assist, ‘cause there’s suddenly a whole lot of yelling happening behind me.  Much hollering, and the unmistakable sounds of a fair-sized free-for-all I’m mighty glad I’m not mixed up in, but other than the to-do in the rear I’m swiftly accelerating away from I don’t hear any three hundred pound hounds baying on my heels.

Not that I’m complaining or anything, but what gives?

I risk a quick glance over my shoulder, and sure enough, I’m not being pursued on account of the sizeable brawl erupting all over the yellow oval; all the guys we left behind, including Teal’c are piling up on each other, doing some serious wrestling, scuffling and determined head bashing. Ow – that musta hurt; nobody’s pulling any punches, every guy all over the ground and each other looks totally committed to killing every other player they can get their hands on. 

Oh well, better them than me.

 I’m way past confused now, but I can’t worry about what’s behind, gotta focus on catching up to the boy booting it for the far side ahead of me.

Waaaay ahead of me now.  Crap.

Daniel’s really pulled out in front there, damn his tight little ass.  Damned tight ass, and I want it now more than ever, although not for quite the same reason as before.

Yep, definitely gonna get that ass, and when I do I’m gonna pound it good into this white crap currently giving me frigging wings along with my ruthless resolve to catch that sneaky, cheating bastard.   He may be fast, but I’m…

Hey, I’m me! And there’s just no fricking way he’s gonna win!  Old, I’ll show him old, I was running rings in a football field when he was still in diapers, dig in, O’Neill, all you have to do is catch him, get him down, that’s not a problem, he’s toast, dead meat, history, goddamned stinking, cheating bastard, flaunting himself like that, distracting…I’m all over you, asshole, and as soon as I catch you…

Down, down, down, you’re going down!

I charge down the field like I’ve got retro rockets on my heels, riding on the intoxicating roar from the crowd and my own dead cold determination to bring Daniel down.  Closing the gap, closing, legs pistoning beneath me like I’m nuclear-powered, gotta move even faster, run, O’Neill, you sack of shit run!

Hot damn, I’m doing it, doing it, I’m catching him! Just a couple more feet… lungs…starting to burn, can’t…let up…or slow down…punch it…so close… God, listen to that crowd, they’re going totally whacko, what a racket, can’t hear myself stink, let ‘em yell, gonna give ‘em something to really scream about, almost got you, you son of a –

Not gonna make it, almost tapped out, keeping up, but can’t…close gap, can’t…keep…this pace up much longer, he’s right…right there…but…but just out of reach, can’t…quite…make it… dammit!  So close, I’m so close, but might as well be a million miles away, and a couple more seconds I’ll be done and he’ll be in the clear…I’ll never catch him, can’t let that happen, have to do…something…now!

Time to go airborne. Lock, load and pray. 

Desperate, I launch myself at the galloping geekboy, hoping to tackle him, take him down before he scampers out of my range.  He could still do it, he’s moving so fast, don’t think I’m gonna connect, even with the making like a guided missile ploy, damn it, my last shot and it’s a dud and then, the miracle happens.

Possibly sensing potential peril and my proximity, not to mention being tipped off by a couple million fanatics screaming my name at the top of their lungs his ass is about to be grassed, Daniel finally makes the fatal error I’ve been banking on, momentarily breaking stride in order to grab a glance over his shoulder.

Yes, your worst nightmare has arrived, better pooped than never, and thanks to your dumbosity giving him the opening he needs he’s punching your ticket to run!

I crash into Daniel’s back and we both go down hard, rolling and scuffling across the white stuff, arms and legs tangling during the frantic tussle.   I grit my teeth, make like a boa constrictor and hang the hell on, stars, stripes and freaking pinwheels zooming around in my head and in front of my eyeballs, a hundred and eighty mighty pissed pounds of writhing, snorting, snarling archaeologist beneath me doing his best to buck me off.

We got a bit of a situation happening here, but as soon as I can catch my breath…

Whoa, Nelly, I’m no slouch in the hand-to-hand department, but this boy feels like he’s got about a dozen arms and legs and all of them, and him, currently dedicated to getting me off…of him, that is.  With a freaking vengeance.  I’ve got Daniel down, but keeping him there, never mind me getting clear enough to have a clean run for the border, not exactly a piece of cake, the crap they misted us both with back in the locker room is every bit as inconvenient as I feared.  It’s proving problematical to achieve a decent hold of any sort on account of both of us being super-lubed from head to fricking tail, and I do mean all over, as was no doubt the purpose for the stupid stuff in the first place. Damn, Daniel is slipperier than an eel dipped in hair gel! Oh well, one small consolation, seeing as how I’m pretty slick myself he’s not having any more luck getting a decent grip than I am.

Yanno, in another context, this could be fun.  We’re bumping and grinding, sliding and swooshing all over the ground and each other like two over-achieving Jell-O-wrestlers coated in cooking oil and if not for the fact I can’t afford to let him win, and let’s not forget being as how there are currently probably a couple of million people watching our every move, making our close encounter of the squishy kind way more public than I’m normally comfortable with, if not for all that I could really get into this.  Daniel is madder than hell, and I gotta tell you, I always get a real kick out of him when he gets all hot and bothered, especially at me, he’s kinda cute when he turns really red, starts sputtering, the whole jumping up and down thing totally gets me going.  It’s always turned my crank to rev him up and watch him go and now, he’s not just revved, he’s totally ballistic, swearing a blue streak and spitting all over me while he’s struggling his guts out to toss me off him, it’s turning me on how desperately he’s fighting me, straining, grunting snarling, bumping against me, over and over, how hard he is…

Holy shit, he’s hard!

I’m so shocked by the sensation Daniel manages to roll me over but before he can pin me down I flip him off and fling myself on him, the surprised whoosh of air forced out of his lungs by the unexpected impaction tickling my ear. He lies still for a sec, stunned and winded, just as I cleverly calculated before deciding to implement the strategic pancake maneuver in the first place.  We’re still both slicked to the gills but I’m slightly more experienced in the hand-to-hand stuff and I’ve had enough time to compensate for the oily factor.  I take advantage of the brief breathing space his temporary inability to breathe affords me to pin both his wrists, and him, down fast while adding my full body weight to the task of keeping him flattened and breathless and this time, my hold holds.

Gotcha!

“Get off me!”  Daniel wheezes, and pushes weakly against the force holding his hands down.  Which would be my mitts wrapped around his wrists.  Man, this boy has got spunk, even though he’s turning slightly blue from a combination of the exertion of the mad dash and me putting my all into mashing him into the ground…

He’s still fighting, for all the good it’ll do him.  He gave it his best shot, I’ll give him that, it was a pretty good one, but when it’s all said and done, age and experience are the ticket.  He may be fast, but I’m way sneakier.  And, I’m still da man.  The best one to boot.

I must be, I’m the one on top, right?

“Give it up, Daniel, you’re done,” I grin back down at him.  “I’ll be on my way now, don’t you worry about that finish line, I’ve got that covered, you just lie here, rest up, catch your breath and I’ll see you in the winner’s circle, sucker.”

I hate to gloat, okay, maybe I don’t, but from where I’m lying, the end of this particular contest is pretty much your fore-gone delusion.

Not that there was ever any doubt in my mind who was gonna get it in the end.

“Eat…shit…old…man…” Daniel spits up at me between gasps, his eyes snapping, flaring with rage.  Insults, and incandescent ire.  God, I love him to death when he’s like this, he’s so hot I could… 

Oooh, I wish... 

“I’m not that old,” I gloat, shifting over him, just a little.  “Enough pop in the old colonel to bring you down, sonny. “

 “Asshole!”  Daniel sputters, and savagely thrusts his pelvis up into mine.  Really…hard.

Oooh, that felt good.  Soooo…good.

Do it again!

“Is that the best you can do?  I’ll try not to cry too hard while I’m thumbing my nose at you from the finish line.”

Yep, that did it, made him mad enough to start some serious wriggling beneath me in an effort to get out from under me.  I press into him, holding him down firmly, matching his movements, ostensibly to restrain him, sure, but also... 

Okay, I know this is really stupid, I should have been up and running at least thirty seconds ago, the longer I mess about here, messing around with him, giving him time to recover, whatever slight advantage I’ve gained through knocking the wind but not the piss out of him is rapidly being rubbed away…literally.   Every second I stick here and…frictionalize is one he can use against me, but I need this, right now, to feel him, just once, beneath me, like this…a few lousy seconds of some harmless one-on-one, what could it hurt.

Ten minutes, tops.

I lean into him, grinding my groin into his, slow and deep, and he goes still beneath me, his eyes getting wide, pupils dilating until they look like two huge dinner plates.

Glittering and black….so…black…

“Wha – what are you doing?” he gasps, his breath shuddering in his chest.  His eyes close, a small groan escaping from his slightly open mouth.  He’s gulping air, fast and shallow, panting almost, breathing hard…hard…

…so hard…

I – I – I should stop, now, but it feels so good, we’re moving faster, together, I’m shaking bad, so bad I can hardly…can’t stop moving, shaking, oh GodGodGod –

Daniel’s eyes fly open, brimming with hurt, confusion and tears.  I don’t understand what’s – why he’s – and then they go cold.

Really cold.

“You son of a bitch!” he chokes. “I can’t believe you’d do this – to - to me – just to – to – you son of a bitch!

Oh God, he thinks – no, no, it’s not like that Daniel, I didn’t mean, that is, I do mean, this wasn’t about that, you…matter…

My head is whirling like I’ve got an overachieving tornado happening inside my skull and the thousands of tangled puzzles knotting my brain all these years suddenly…unspool… it’s all there, crystal clear, and screaming at me for release, explanations, apologies, things I want to say, have wanted to say for practically as long as I’ve known him but never knew what or how or why.  I know now, I…understand, what he is, who he is, why he…and me…have to, have to tell him now while it’s all so clear, and right there, and I open my mouth to – to – but all that comes out is this…gurgle.

Appropriate articulation under pressure…not one of my strong suits.  Crap, blew it again, maybe for good this time and looking down at those cold, furious eyes…

Yeah, no matter how this thing turns out, I’ve lost the game.

Daniel’s eyes narrow; get this creepy, crafty cast.  He swipes his tongue across his lower lip, slow and languorous, smiling smugly like he’s knows something I don’t and he’s not inclined to share.

Um…what?

“Sucker,” Daniel whispers, and makes his move.

I’m abruptly tipped on my back like an unsuspecting steer, and – crap, there he goes!  Up on his haunches in a flash, poised like a runner crouched and coiled, waiting for the starter’s pistol.

That does it – this is the last time, the very last time that monkey is making an uncle out of me!

Daniel bolts, but I’m quicker, rolling and grabbing for the nearest ankle.  My fingers slip, then lock tight, I yank, hard, down he goes, face first into the stuff.  He kicks back, his heel connecting with my chin, but I slap his foot away, keep hauling on his ankle, keeping him off balance and off his feet while I get to mine.  He’s powering up for another roundhouse kick when this huge roar…erupts all around us.

We can’t help it; the noise level in the arena is so close to ear-bleeding level we momentarily leave off beating the crap out of each other to check out what is causing all the fuss. Holy shit, sorry I looked, evidently the brawl back where we started has thinned out some; about half a dozen guys from both sides have made it clear of the original fracas and…hell, incoming!  No question, they’re headed this way, chugging towards us like a bunch of runaway freight trains, what they’re gonna do when they get here, don’t know, don’t intend sticking around long enough to find out.  That blue striper in the lead, oh yeah, definitely don’t want to mess with that dude.  Hey, hang on, there’s my man Teal’c going for the tackle.  Ow!  Bluey goes blooey, slam-basted into the ground with Teal’c wrapped around him, he’s out, way to go, big guy, one for our side, now a green guys is out in front, that’s way better, he’s on my side so when he gets here, if there’s pounding to be done, it won’t be on my head.  Wait a minute, wait a minute, behind you dude, you’ve got a blue meanie on your tail!

Too late.  OOooh!  That’s gonna leave a mark!

Okay, not exactly sure what the game plan is, but I’ve got eyes, company’s coming, granted slowly, mostly brawling their way along the field, but there are a couple more guys on their feet, heading this way, time to get going.

Crap!  Daniel kicks me in the chin, again, this time with enough force to not only almost lay me flat, but give me the general impression he doesn’t love me any more.

He’s definitely not fooling around.  Well, boo hoo, neither am I.

And…evidently he’s still pissed, ‘cause he makes his second mistake of the day, instead of grabbing his chance to bolt while my head is momentarily spinning from his love tap he tries to follow it up with a right cross.

Nope, nope, nope!

I block the punch easily and land one of my own.  It connects, jolting my arm right up to the shoulder.  Ow!!!!  Daniel keels over on his side, I’m shaking my hand and swearing, and while I’m trying to get the feeling back in my fingers he rolls over, pushes himself onto all fours, shakes his head and starts crawling frantically forward.

Not so fast, Ghunga Dan, I’m still a better man than you are, and here’s where you find out the difference training makes.

Daniel is grunting, attempting to stand, but I throw myself on his back, bear-hugging him around his chest, and bear down.   Gonna push him face first into the alien Astroturf, that’ll be all she wrote for him, then push off him and go for the -  

Crap, not now!

About two tons of solid muscle comprised of an indeterminate amount of individuals slams into the my back mashing me solidly into Daniel and well, Daniel, as he happens to be under me, he’s currently enjoying some real up close and personal quality time with the white stuff.  Which was my original plan for him, sure, I was just wasn’t figuring on being part of the sandwich. Me, I’ve got this human avalanche on my back and we’re talking serious pancake time here.  Puppy pile with maple syrup.  Hold the ham. Ugh. Quick, somebody give me a snorkel, getting hard to breathe down here.  Never felt so…compacted…in my life, but one bright spot;  I may be about to pass out from oxygen deprivation but I’m not the only one effectively contained in this situation;  I know exactly where Daniel is, right under me, and that’s where he’s stayin’ –

“O’NEILL!  DANIELJACKSON!”

Oy, must be hallucinating, I could swear I just heard a Jaffa yell.

Wow!  Just when I’m thinking I’m about to end my existence as an oily smear on Daniel’s back the pressure on my posterior is gone; I’m dimly aware of my guys tossing the blue guys left and centre.  Hey!  Way to go, it’s John Wayne time, the cavalry is here!  I’m clear, Daniel is still down, I can’t believe I managed to keep my hold on him through all this, but he’s here, I’ve got him, he’s not moving, odds are he’s passed out, all the better for me, means he won’t be coming after me any time soon, here’s my chance to get going and win this thing, if I can keep from passing out and get…to my feet and go, and my guys, can keep his guys…off me, so I can…

Um…what the hell was I doing again?

Whoa…where’s the finish line…

“Are you injured, O’Neill?”  Teal’c hollers in my ear, grabbing me by the arms and hauling me to my feet so violently he breaks my hold on Daniel.

Aw crap, I don’t believe this, there’s some life in the energizer bunny yet, being on the bottom of the heap might have slowed him down but he’s still going, crawling for the clear while Teal’c keeps pulling me away.

Dammit, he’s up, about to go again!  Gotta move!

“Lemme go!” I snarl at my Jaffa saviour and lunge at Daniel.  I grab his shoulder, my hand slips, skitters down his back, he twists away and suddenly dives to avoid a flying leap from…crap, that’s one of my guys, he’s overshot Daniel and his present trajectory strongly suggests he’s gonna land…

Oh my God, this isn’t happening, I’m gonna get kilt again. 

I desperately leap under the flying wallenda about to make a one point on my head, and make an equally desperate grab for the crawling wonder, who ain’t getting the best of me if I have anything to say about it!  I gotta get another hold on that boy and I don’t care what I connect with.  Fingers, toes, an ear, anything, at this point I’m not picky.   In another second or so I probably won’t be alive enough to care, one way or another, but as long as I’m still conscious I’ve gotta give it my all, my eagerly questing fingers clutch and latch on, and from the ensuing angry roar…ah Daniel, I’d recognize that rage anywhere. 

Gotcha, gotcha, not letting go this time! 

I grab hard and pull, whatever I’ve got, it’s staying got, no matter what.   Wiggling, he’s still wiggling away, doing his best, anyway, to break my hold, but it’s not happening, I’ve still got…what the hell is it I’ve got a hold of it doesn’t feel like…an arm, or even a leg.  Definitely not a nose.

Oh. My. God.  I forgot about the hippo about to land on my head!

That…hurt…

…oooooh, musta lost consciousness for a couple of seconds, things are kinda…monochrome and…misty…definitely…definitely…misty.  Daniel didn’t get away, still got something clenched in my fist…what’s with all the racket, sounds like one hell of a thunderstorm or the whole place is about to cave in.  

No…that’s people…cheering.  Thousands and thousands of people, roaring their faces off, chanting, cheering.

Oh crap, the game!  It’s still on, but how is that possible, it can’t be, I’m not in the running…got taken out by one of my own guys, and Daniel isn’t, in play, either, ‘cause I’ve still got him, so why are they cheering?

Still feeling mighty confused as Teal’c’s huge black fist reaches down, wraps around my right bicep and hauls me to my feet.  I wobble about, batting away supporting Jaffa hands, blinking down at the ground beneath me.

No Daniel.  He’s not there.  But he has to be; I didn’t let go.

No, this is not possible.  Not happening.  I got hit on the head harder than I thought, because there is no way, I cannot be seeing what I am seeing.

Oh man, this sucks!  How is this possible?

Daniel’s not here, on the ground, where he should be, because he’s there, waaaaay down there, most of the way down the field, hotfooting it for the finish line.  He’s only got a couple hundred yards to go.  No way I’ll ever catch him now. 

Game over.  Crap.

I don’t understand, he should be – but he’s not – he’s…but he shouldn’t be…

I don’t get it.

I didn’t let go.

I’m still standing, swaying and staring, so gob-smacked I can’t do much else.  No one is chasing Daniel, no one, he’s completely open, got a clear shot all the way to the finish line, and boy is he making the most of it, look at him go!  What’s going on, why are these guys still here, standing around, they’re not chasing him, not fighting each other, everybody’s gathered around me, hanging out, starin’ straight up, mouths hanging open…

They’re looking the wrong way!  What’s going on here, they’re facing away from the finish line and gazing up, not looking at Daniel, hoofing it like hell in the opposite direction, with the crowd eating it up all the way.  Oh well, whatever, don’t know what their problem is, and frankly don’t care.  I’m so pissed at this revolting turn of events I can hardly see and yet, I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from that distant, swiftly receding figure. I can’t believe what’s happening here, can’t believe he’s actually gonna do it, the little bastard got away, got the best of me, he’s gonna win. Look at him, the boy is just beating it for broke, he’s streaking down that field like…like…

Oh, wait a minute, something’s off, doesn’t look quite right.  He’s a ways away, to be sure, can barely make him out, squinting across the distance between us all I can see is a blur, an all-white blur bounding on his merry way to victory.  The white field doesn’t help, no contrast, white on white the only difference between it and him, he’s the part that’s moving.

Um…that’s…there’s something wrong with that, isn’t there? The all white thing, I mean.   Geez, no wonder I can’t see straight, with this sweat in my eyes, wipe ‘em clear with the rag I’m holding. 

Okay, that’s better, I can see now.

Wait a minute, what did I just do, where the hell did I get a face wipe?  What is this thing I’m holding?  Definitely a piece of cloth.  A piece of blue cloth looking suspiciously like…

Oh Lord, everything is suddenly, horrifyingly clear.  How I held onto Daniel all the way through the last slamerama, and yet, didn’t. Yeah, I had a grip on something, okay, didn’t let go, all right, but what I had a hold of, it did, it gave, oh God, did it, and Daniel, so focused on slipping my grip and winning, no matter what it took, he kept on going – is still going, even though he left something really important behind.   Maybe he doesn’t realize he’s…but that’s crazy, how could he not…know, but if he does, he can’t be that determined to best me he doesn’t care, not Daniel, if he knew he was…he’d be running for cover, not the finish line.   And the  way he’s running now, like everything scrap of  energy and awareness he possesses – only one thing on his mind and it isn’t what he is, or isn’t… 

God, he doesn’t know, I know he doesn’t know he’s run almost half the length of the Zot field, with probably a whole planet of people watching…

Watching…all of him. 

Every overblown, super-sized, over-exposed inch of him.

 Every step of the way.

Oh. My. God.

 

 

 

On to Part Three


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Biblio, PhoenixE, babs, Brionhet, Darcy, Devra, Fabrisse, JoaG, Kalimyre, Marcia, Rowan and Sideburns, 2001-2008.
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Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate Productions, Sci Fi Channel, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. These stories are for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. These stories may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author. Copyright on images remains with the above named rightsholders.
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