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Mar. 19th, 2006 02:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
catspawNew fic :-)
Ten Years Gone. NC17 futurefic, J/D of course. Grateful thanks to the usual suspects - Joy, Carron and Jen, for beta work above and beyond the call. Any remaining mistakes are mine and mine alone, due solely to my own bull-headedness.
Ten Years Gone
==============
He stood stock-still, staring at the slightly averted profile of the man standing in the stacks immersed in the book in his hands. Incredibly, it really was him, and looking exactly the same - except, he thought with a wry grin, his taste in clothes was probably better. But the formal look had always been good on him, even when, as now, the tie was loosened and hanging slack and the expensive dark suit was slightly crumpled. Not that that had ever been his choice of everyday wear. So, given that he was also far off his known beaten track, he'd probably either come straight from the airport or from a meeting.
He hesitated a little, unsure of his reception after so long. And then thought, what the hell . Decision made, he took a deep breath and started walking.
*
Daniel replaced the book on the shelf with an impatient click of his tongue and reached for another one. He opened it, flipping through the pages, skimming the text to track down the information he was looking for. He was completely focussed on the task, quietly oblivious to everything around him.
"Hey, Daniel. Long time, no see."
He jumped and then froze at the sound of that voice, knowing that its owner should be off world. Then his head jerked up and he whirled around, eyes wide in surprise, but narrowing as he took in the appearance of the man standing at his elbow.
Younger. Much younger. He'd be what, twenty-six? Twenty-seven? Longish, light brown hair, casually styled - it suited him. No scarred eyebrow and when he looked closely, no shadows behind the warmth in the dark eyes.
"Jack," he breathed, eyes widening again in shock as the penny dropped.
When Daniel had turned, Jack had watched as the expression in Daniel's eyes changed to something more than surprise at an unexpected interruption. But of course, he'd been expecting the other Jack, the older Jack. That was understandable - after all, who'd immediately think of the teenaged boy clone? He had a momentary, resentful flashback to that time, all the earnest discussions about his future before he was pushed comprehensively out of his own life and under the rug, to be forgotten as thoroughly as possible, consigned to a dusty footnote in an old mission report. He forced himself to swallow it down, let it go; old history now, and it really hadn't turned out too bad.
He might have forgiven - more or less - but he'd never forgotten. Sure, over time his feelings had dimmed as he'd gotten on with his life, and that was only natural. But seeing Daniel now, all those feelings re-ignited with fresh force and the love and desire that he'd thought had been buried for good resurfaced with a vengeance. Without thinking, Jack brought his right hand up to pull Daniel into a hug - not touching, but wanting to. Oh yes, he wanted to. But Daniel flinched like a skittish horse.
Jack's expression changed as he slowly pulled back his hand. Okay, that was only to be expected, he guessed. It hurt a little though, no matter how much he rationalised it. "How've you been? What brings you here?"
Daniel blinked, eyes switching rapidly between Jack and the book in his hands. "Uh, just reading up on some stuff for work. I couldn't find what I needed so I made some calls and -- well, this is library number four on the list to visit."
Jack's brows rose in question. "Looking for..." and he tilted his head to look at the cover of the book, "Rapa Nui?"
Daniel gave him a quick glimpse of a smile. "Yeah, Rapa Nui. This library and the one in D.C. are the only ones so far who have anything in depth about the Rapa Nui."
"They have that stuff online, Daniel."
"Yeah, but..." and he held up the old book in his hand. "Not everything. Hence the treasure hunt I've been on."
"'Treasure Hunt'. That sounds -- compulsive. Anything serious?" Jack asked, immediately lured back into old, old habits. But it wasn't his problem any more and he forced himself to relax.
Daniel caught the concern. "I don't know yet. Just research at this stage. Background stuff, you know."
"Yeah, I remember." Jack took another long look at Daniel. The first time he'd looked, it was with recognition and identification - and longing. Now, Jack saw the minute changes that had come with age. The worry lines, and a few of what he hoped were laugh lines. Daniel's hair was the same, although slightly longer than when he'd last seen him, touching the bottom edge of his jacket collar. Still the same reddish-brown, only a few strands of grey. The eyes were that same intense blue he remembered so well, but as they returned his gaze, they weren't as bright as they had been when he'd first turned around.
Which told Jack a couple of things. Daniel had expected to turn and see the other, older Jack O'Neill. Hardly a newsflash. But the expression in his eyes had been of surprised hope, as if Daniel hadn't seen the other Jack in a long time. What it didn't tell him was whether or not that Jack O'Neill had ever pulled his head out of his ass and told Daniel that he loved him. That was something that he wanted to do very badly right at that moment... as a prelude to a few other things.
"Jack?" Daniel asked warily, recognising the oddly familiar signs of assessment. There was something else there too, something he couldn't quite put a name to, something he'd never seen in the eyes of his Jack.
His Jack. Jack had never been his. Daniel mentally kicked himself for allowing his mind to run off on that particular track. Desperately inappropriate in the circumstances, he reprimanded himself.
"I'm sorry. I was staring, wasn't I?"
The easy apology without a trace of sarcasm was startling and Daniel rushed to deflect attention from his confusion. "'S okay. I probably was too."
Another awkward moment that seemed to last far too long while Jack stood smiling at him and he cast around in his mind for something to fill it, before Jack said, "Hey, you busy? I mean, really busy, 'cause..." Jack looked down at his watch. "Listen, it's almost five o'clock. Why don't you join me for dinner? Please?" Adding, as Daniel drew a deep breath and started to frame his answer, "Don't say no."
Daniel's first instinct was to refuse. He didn't though, for no reason that he could readily identify: instead, he said with a small, tight smile, "Still persistent, I see."
"Always," Jack replied, flashing Daniel a brilliant smile in return and it struck Daniel that this Jack O'Neill had a few laugh lines already, which meant that this smile was seen more often. He was thankful for that. Daniel's wariness started to dissolve.
"Uh, well, I have to get this book, and should probably get --"
"Great," Jack said, reaching for the book. "Let me get it so you don't have to pay the fee. I'm assuming you don't have a card here, right?"
"Well no --"
"Okay. I do, so c'mon, let's go. I'll show you around the town, we can have something to eat and --"
"Hold on," Daniel requested, stopping Jack by pulling on his arm. The touch sent a prickle of tension through him and he quickly withdrew his hand.
"Yeah?" Jack asked. Don't say no. For a moment he wondered if he'd said that aloud again, but Daniel gave no sign that he had.
"We get the book and we have dinner, but I'm buying."
Relieved, Jack shook his head with another smile. "No way. I'm cooking."
Daniel realised his mouth had dropped open and he shut it. "You're cooking. You cook?"
Jack's smile became broader. "Sure. Doesn't everyone?" He thought about it a moment, then made an elaborate point of realising to whom he was talking, hamming it up with an exaggerated double take. "Sorry. Wrong person to ask, I guess. Something that hasn't changed, at least."
Daniel chuckled, shook his head and said pointedly, "No, some things never change. Okay. You're cooking." So not a good thing, he thought to himself. This required being in Jack's personal space, like his apartment or house or... Daniel pulled himself up short. This Jack could have a girlfriend, he could be married again - hell, he could even have a boyfriend. Yeah, and if he believed that he should probably think about buying a bridge somewhere. Okay, there was only one way to find out. The direct approach.
"Jack?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm not going to be messing up any plans or anything, am I?" Okay, semi-direct approach.
Jack gave Daniel a smile that he could wrap himself in. "No. I wouldn't have asked if you were."
Daniel nodded and tried to cover. "Good, good, because I wouldn't want to, uh, intrude, you know - or anything."
Jack took his elbow. "You were never an intrusion, Daniel. I don't think time could change that."
This wasn't exactly the information Daniel had been fishing for and he couldn't leave it be. "So you live...?"
"A couple of blocks from here." Jack smiled, enjoying this. Daniel was off balance. He wasn't sure why, but he knew he'd missed this, the pure joy of teasing Daniel. And also, to tell the truth, the times when Daniel wrong-footed him. As he did, momentarily, when he abruptly stopped fishing, gave Jack a genuine smile and said, "Okay. So, let's go then."
"All right!" Jack beamed back at him. "We'll stop at the store on the way."
*
"Nice place you have here." Daniel stood in the middle of Jack's apartment, gathering first impressions and trying to get his bearings as he shucked his jacket and tie with relief and laid them over the back of a chair. It was a beautiful space, airy and light, which whispered quiet prosperity. Blond wood floors gleamed in the filtered late afternoon sunshine from the high windows, the soft light enhanced by the pale walls. Splashes of colour from artfully placed furniture and artwork kept the eyes interested. Like a spread from 'Architectural Digest', Daniel thought to himself. He caught sight of a group of model aeroplanes hanging in one corner with a hockey stick propped carelessly underneath them and smiled to himself; so much different, but so much the same.
"Thanks, I like it," Jack called through cheerfully from the kitchen area.
Daniel followed the sound of the voice and walked into the kitchen, an impressive expanse of dark granite, light beech wood and stainless steel. Jack was hunkered down, examining the contents of a pullout wine rack.
"Red wine, right?" He looked up as he spoke and watched Daniel strolling in while methodically rolling up his shirtsleeves to mid-forearm. That was something Jack hadn't seen in way too long, Daniel making himself comfortable in his space. The slight limp though, that was new - new since the last time he'd seen him anyway. Jack felt abruptly nervous, felt he was trying too hard to be normal, whatever that was. He took a deep breath to steady himself, covering it up with the motion as he rose to his feet.
Daniel watched as Jack surged smoothly back up to stand, bottle in hand. The older Jack had always moved with the remnants of athletic grace, even the last time Daniel had seen him, shortly after yet another surgery. This younger version had the real thing at its zenith: a man totally confident in his body and its abilities.
And he was gorgeous: broad shoulders and deep chest tapering to a trim waist, no sign of softening there; long, lean thighs clad in 501s that fit, emphasising the ranginess of his hips and the strained creases of the fabric over his groin; a tuft of dark chest hair punctuating the shadowed 'v' below the hollow of his throat, hinting at the hairiness of the body beneath his shirt.
Daniel realised he was staring again and caught Jack's eye in apology. The split-second kick he felt in the pit of his stomach from that gaze surprised and confused him before he chalked it up to wishful thinking. Get a grip, for god's sake, he chided himself, you're old enough to be this one's father. And don't forget that even though he's younger, with a whole new layer of different experiences, he's still the same Jack O'Neill at his core.
"Thanks. Red wine will be fine."
"Will you open it? There's a corkscrew in the drawer there." Jack indicated the direction with a nod of his head. "If you do that, I'll start the food."
He matched his actions to his words, rummaging in the fridge and pulling out various ingredients, lining them up on the counter, assembling pots and pans methodically before unwrapping the hastily purchased steaks.
Daniel watched him for a moment or two as he moved around. The economy of movement that he remembered so well was still in evidence, albeit in unusual surroundings. The Jack O'Neill he was familiar with had never been big in the kitchen as far as he could recall. No inclination, and certainly never enough time - although thinking about it, his barbecues had always been good. So maybe the 'no inclination' thing wasn't entirely accurate.
A hand waving in front of his nose brought Daniel suddenly back down to earth. Jack was standing exceedingly close to him, close enough that Daniel could feel the heat radiating from him, close enough that Daniel suddenly felt warm himself. "Daniel? Corkscrew? Or are you hoping the wine will get into the glasses under its own steam?"
"Uh, sorry." Daniel gave a slightly sheepish grin. "I was just thinking... uh, doesn't matter." Because it really wouldn't be tactful now would it, to go into the whole 'compare and contrast' thing. He turned to rummage in the drawer, found the corkscrew and applied himself to opening the bottle.
He was startled though, when Jack said casually over his shoulder as he went back to his preparations, "It wasn't lack of interest, you know, just lack of time." When he looked across and registered Daniel's surprised expression, he amplified, "The cooking thing. Lack of time. There was always other stuff that got in the way. Now, not so much. And I never could stand to go into anything half-assed."
Daniel swallowed his surprise because hell, he should really have known: he and Jack had always been on much the same wavelength on the day-to-day level, just not in the one area where it really mattered, and this man was Jack, despite the added extras. He needed to keep reminding himself of that.
"Glasses are in there," Jack indicated a run of cupboard doors with a backwards gesture of his head, "just keep looking 'til you find them."
"You want red wine as well? Not beer? Or anything?"
"Sure," Jack said lightly. "My tastes have changed a little. Red wine is fine."
He turned his attention back to the food, deftly wrapping the steaks in bacon and setting the skillet to heat, cleaning off the baby red potatoes he'd retrieved from the depths of the fridge, firing up the oven. Daniel found the glasses and poured them, then settled back with one hip against the counter top, enjoying watching him as he savoured his first taste of the wine. He'd always found Jack's effortless physical competence fascinating no matter what task he'd been engaged in, and as he sipped and watched, he allowed himself the momentary indulgence of remembering just how that felt as he started to relax.
When Jack darted him a small sideways smile, he shrugged the memories off, and any residual awkwardness that came with them, pushed himself off from the counter and crossed the space between them with Jack's glass in his hand. Again, that crackle of attraction when he brushed past Jack to the counter and put the glass down within reach but Daniel determinedly pushed it down.
"Here. All the really good chefs cook with a glass of something in easy reach."
"Thanks." Jack grinned more widely and lifted his glass. "Slainte."
Daniel inclined his head in acknowledgement, took another sip and put his glass down. "Nice. Hey, can I do anything to help?"
Jack took his offer at face value. "There're the fixings for a green salad in the fridge. If you want to do that while I'm getting this in the oven, we'll go sit for a while as it's cooking."
"Sure, I can do that," Daniel replied.
"Yeah? You sure?" Jack asked, with a sideways, teasing grin.
Daniel rose to the bait as instinctively as he always had, mock frowning at Jack over the rims of his glasses. "It's salad, Jack. Not some weird-ass purple people eating vegetable from the Black Lagoon. I think I'll cope with that."
"Uh huh. I'll bet you could cope with that weird-ass purple...what was that shit? I'll bet you'd cope with that too. You always did cope with pretty much everything."
"Maybe, maybe not. I'm not sure I could have a meaningful dialogue with an eggplant. Knife?"
"Block's over there," Jack said, cocking his head to indicate its general direction, "And don't be too sure about that. Think of some of the things you've communicated with in your time. Little grey naked guys. Glowy clouds. Blue crystals. Sushi."
"Sushi?" Daniel momentarily stopped rummaging in the bottom of the fridge and popped his head out, a puzzled expression on his face. "I don't ever remember -- oh, wait a minute. Of course. Cute, Jack."
"Sushi," Jack nodded firmly. "After all that, an eggplant would be a snap."
"But not a snappy conversationalist." Daniel flipped the fridge door shut with one hip, dumped the vegetables on the counter and snagged a chopping board.
"Hell no," Jack answered with a grin, "When are they ever?" and Daniel grinned right back at him.
They worked in companionable silence for a while, side by side at the counter. Jack was acutely aware of Daniel's presence by his side and how smoothly they fell back into the old pattern of working efficiently together in the same space. He relaxed into the warm comfort of their harmony, pulling it round himself like a blanket, watching out of the corner of his eye as Daniel methodically chopped and sliced.
“There, we’re set,” Jack said with satisfaction as Daniel tossed the salad. He glanced at the timer. “Fifteen minutes tops and we'll be eating. Okay?”
“Okay.” Daniel dropped the knife he’d been using into the sink and washed his hands, grinning his thanks at Jack when he wordlessly handed him a towel. He grabbed his glass and followed Jack back through to the main room, plopping himself down on the other end of the couch.
Conversation seemed suddenly to have run out for some reason. The silence stretched as they studied each other, though not uncomfortably so, before Daniel broke it.
"So, ten years, huh?"
"Yeah," Jack almost sighed. "The time just seems to run away. It looks good on you though." He tipped his glass in Daniel's direction.
Daniel smiled and tipped his back at him. "Thanks. You too."
"Yeah, well. I had a head start on that one, I guess. But seriously, you look hardly a day older." At Daniel's sceptical look, Jack amplified, "I mean it. I'd've known you anywhere. And the formal look is good on you; I always thought so. Once we'd finally dragged you out of tweed, I thought so."
He was rewarded with a slightly startled, wrinkle-nosed grin. Typical Daniel, matching his memories exactly, SOP for dealing with an unexpected compliment. As he moved, the collar of his shirt shifted and Jack caught a familiar glint of metal. Familiar, but somehow shockingly unexpected around Daniel's neck.
"You're wearing tags."
Daniel's hand came up automatically and he fingered the chain, plucking it away from his skin as if it was too tight. "Uh, yeah." He looked a little self-conscious. "Everyone has to wear them now. I got used to them quite quickly though. I guess I'd miss them now if they weren't there." Daniel paused for a moment, considering. "Actually, that's quite funny really."
"The whole role reversal thing?"
Again, Daniel was slightly startled at how easily this Jack hopped on his train of thought and made himself comfortable. And at how much he missed this easy interaction in his working life. He nodded, "Yeah. Who would ever have thought?"
"Not me," Jack replied with a wide smile. "There is a certain symmetry there though. Kinda restores your faith in the order of the universe, doesn't it?"
"Oddly - yes it does," Daniel replied with an equally wide smile. "That has to be worth a toast as well. To faith in symmetry."
"And ageing gracefully," Jack responded as they clinked glasses.
"That too."
Another slight pause as they took a drink.
"How long are you in town for?"
Daniel hastily swallowed another mouthful of wine. "Uh, depends. I've only just gotten here today and I do have some research to do. As usual, I'm really not sure what sources are going to be helpful and what aren't. If the library here has what I'm looking for, I'll maybe be in town a couple of days."
"And if it doesn't?"
"I'll fly out tomorrow, head for the next one."
Jack smiled warmly at him. "In that case, I'd better start hoping the sources are useful. I'd like the chance to show you around some, hang out for a while. It's been too long."
Daniel slowly smiled back. "Yeah, I think I'd like that." And that was nothing more than the simple truth: Jack's warmth was genuine, and genuinely flattering.
In the kitchen, the timer pinged.
"Hold that thought," Jack said as he got to his feet. "I have a sauce to fix." He grabbed his glass and headed off to the kitchen. Daniel stood up and followed a little more slowly, arriving in time to see Jack taking the meat out of the oven pan. He sniffed appreciatively.
"Smells good."
"It's just about to get better, I hope." The pan sizzled on top of the stove as white wine was added, then garlic, herbs, cracked pepper and cream. Daniel took another deep sniff.
"Oh yeah. You're right about that. It just did. Now it smells sensational."
"Good." Jack gave him another sideways smile as he dropped in some butter and stirred another couple of times, then turned to him with the wooden spoon in his hand. "Here. Give it a try."
He crossed the space between them, spoon held loaded and ready in one hand, the other cupped underneath to catch any spills, and held it up to Daniel’s mouth. Daniel held onto Jack's hand, steadying it as he dipped his head towards the spoon.
"Yep, that's good." He looked up at Jack through his lashes, catching his eyes and smiling into them with his own.
Jack felt his throat constricting as the years rolled back and he rigidly schooled his expression. He'd seen that look directed at him a thousand times in his old life, in the earlier days at least. But he'd hardly seen it at all, latterly. The strange, flirty edge that had always characterised their friendship had surfaced less and less as they'd gotten closer to what he still mentally categorised as Ground Zero.
He'd cut Daniel off. Stupid. But now that look was back and he wasn't about to make the same, ill-judged decision again. If he got the chance - he hadn't yet had the opportunity to find out what the status quo was, but he would. Meantime, Daniel's expression was changing. He seemed aware that they'd been standing too close for a little too long and was backing off, a slightly sheepish look on his face.
Jack said smoothly, covering the gap with his best smile, "Glad you approve. Organise the silverware will ya? Left hand drawer next to the sink. We're good to go."
*
On to Part 2
Ten Years Gone. NC17 futurefic, J/D of course. Grateful thanks to the usual suspects - Joy, Carron and Jen, for beta work above and beyond the call. Any remaining mistakes are mine and mine alone, due solely to my own bull-headedness.
Ten Years Gone
==============
He stood stock-still, staring at the slightly averted profile of the man standing in the stacks immersed in the book in his hands. Incredibly, it really was him, and looking exactly the same - except, he thought with a wry grin, his taste in clothes was probably better. But the formal look had always been good on him, even when, as now, the tie was loosened and hanging slack and the expensive dark suit was slightly crumpled. Not that that had ever been his choice of everyday wear. So, given that he was also far off his known beaten track, he'd probably either come straight from the airport or from a meeting.
He hesitated a little, unsure of his reception after so long. And then thought, what the hell . Decision made, he took a deep breath and started walking.
*
Daniel replaced the book on the shelf with an impatient click of his tongue and reached for another one. He opened it, flipping through the pages, skimming the text to track down the information he was looking for. He was completely focussed on the task, quietly oblivious to everything around him.
"Hey, Daniel. Long time, no see."
He jumped and then froze at the sound of that voice, knowing that its owner should be off world. Then his head jerked up and he whirled around, eyes wide in surprise, but narrowing as he took in the appearance of the man standing at his elbow.
Younger. Much younger. He'd be what, twenty-six? Twenty-seven? Longish, light brown hair, casually styled - it suited him. No scarred eyebrow and when he looked closely, no shadows behind the warmth in the dark eyes.
"Jack," he breathed, eyes widening again in shock as the penny dropped.
When Daniel had turned, Jack had watched as the expression in Daniel's eyes changed to something more than surprise at an unexpected interruption. But of course, he'd been expecting the other Jack, the older Jack. That was understandable - after all, who'd immediately think of the teenaged boy clone? He had a momentary, resentful flashback to that time, all the earnest discussions about his future before he was pushed comprehensively out of his own life and under the rug, to be forgotten as thoroughly as possible, consigned to a dusty footnote in an old mission report. He forced himself to swallow it down, let it go; old history now, and it really hadn't turned out too bad.
He might have forgiven - more or less - but he'd never forgotten. Sure, over time his feelings had dimmed as he'd gotten on with his life, and that was only natural. But seeing Daniel now, all those feelings re-ignited with fresh force and the love and desire that he'd thought had been buried for good resurfaced with a vengeance. Without thinking, Jack brought his right hand up to pull Daniel into a hug - not touching, but wanting to. Oh yes, he wanted to. But Daniel flinched like a skittish horse.
Jack's expression changed as he slowly pulled back his hand. Okay, that was only to be expected, he guessed. It hurt a little though, no matter how much he rationalised it. "How've you been? What brings you here?"
Daniel blinked, eyes switching rapidly between Jack and the book in his hands. "Uh, just reading up on some stuff for work. I couldn't find what I needed so I made some calls and -- well, this is library number four on the list to visit."
Jack's brows rose in question. "Looking for..." and he tilted his head to look at the cover of the book, "Rapa Nui?"
Daniel gave him a quick glimpse of a smile. "Yeah, Rapa Nui. This library and the one in D.C. are the only ones so far who have anything in depth about the Rapa Nui."
"They have that stuff online, Daniel."
"Yeah, but..." and he held up the old book in his hand. "Not everything. Hence the treasure hunt I've been on."
"'Treasure Hunt'. That sounds -- compulsive. Anything serious?" Jack asked, immediately lured back into old, old habits. But it wasn't his problem any more and he forced himself to relax.
Daniel caught the concern. "I don't know yet. Just research at this stage. Background stuff, you know."
"Yeah, I remember." Jack took another long look at Daniel. The first time he'd looked, it was with recognition and identification - and longing. Now, Jack saw the minute changes that had come with age. The worry lines, and a few of what he hoped were laugh lines. Daniel's hair was the same, although slightly longer than when he'd last seen him, touching the bottom edge of his jacket collar. Still the same reddish-brown, only a few strands of grey. The eyes were that same intense blue he remembered so well, but as they returned his gaze, they weren't as bright as they had been when he'd first turned around.
Which told Jack a couple of things. Daniel had expected to turn and see the other, older Jack O'Neill. Hardly a newsflash. But the expression in his eyes had been of surprised hope, as if Daniel hadn't seen the other Jack in a long time. What it didn't tell him was whether or not that Jack O'Neill had ever pulled his head out of his ass and told Daniel that he loved him. That was something that he wanted to do very badly right at that moment... as a prelude to a few other things.
"Jack?" Daniel asked warily, recognising the oddly familiar signs of assessment. There was something else there too, something he couldn't quite put a name to, something he'd never seen in the eyes of his Jack.
His Jack. Jack had never been his. Daniel mentally kicked himself for allowing his mind to run off on that particular track. Desperately inappropriate in the circumstances, he reprimanded himself.
"I'm sorry. I was staring, wasn't I?"
The easy apology without a trace of sarcasm was startling and Daniel rushed to deflect attention from his confusion. "'S okay. I probably was too."
Another awkward moment that seemed to last far too long while Jack stood smiling at him and he cast around in his mind for something to fill it, before Jack said, "Hey, you busy? I mean, really busy, 'cause..." Jack looked down at his watch. "Listen, it's almost five o'clock. Why don't you join me for dinner? Please?" Adding, as Daniel drew a deep breath and started to frame his answer, "Don't say no."
Daniel's first instinct was to refuse. He didn't though, for no reason that he could readily identify: instead, he said with a small, tight smile, "Still persistent, I see."
"Always," Jack replied, flashing Daniel a brilliant smile in return and it struck Daniel that this Jack O'Neill had a few laugh lines already, which meant that this smile was seen more often. He was thankful for that. Daniel's wariness started to dissolve.
"Uh, well, I have to get this book, and should probably get --"
"Great," Jack said, reaching for the book. "Let me get it so you don't have to pay the fee. I'm assuming you don't have a card here, right?"
"Well no --"
"Okay. I do, so c'mon, let's go. I'll show you around the town, we can have something to eat and --"
"Hold on," Daniel requested, stopping Jack by pulling on his arm. The touch sent a prickle of tension through him and he quickly withdrew his hand.
"Yeah?" Jack asked. Don't say no. For a moment he wondered if he'd said that aloud again, but Daniel gave no sign that he had.
"We get the book and we have dinner, but I'm buying."
Relieved, Jack shook his head with another smile. "No way. I'm cooking."
Daniel realised his mouth had dropped open and he shut it. "You're cooking. You cook?"
Jack's smile became broader. "Sure. Doesn't everyone?" He thought about it a moment, then made an elaborate point of realising to whom he was talking, hamming it up with an exaggerated double take. "Sorry. Wrong person to ask, I guess. Something that hasn't changed, at least."
Daniel chuckled, shook his head and said pointedly, "No, some things never change. Okay. You're cooking." So not a good thing, he thought to himself. This required being in Jack's personal space, like his apartment or house or... Daniel pulled himself up short. This Jack could have a girlfriend, he could be married again - hell, he could even have a boyfriend. Yeah, and if he believed that he should probably think about buying a bridge somewhere. Okay, there was only one way to find out. The direct approach.
"Jack?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm not going to be messing up any plans or anything, am I?" Okay, semi-direct approach.
Jack gave Daniel a smile that he could wrap himself in. "No. I wouldn't have asked if you were."
Daniel nodded and tried to cover. "Good, good, because I wouldn't want to, uh, intrude, you know - or anything."
Jack took his elbow. "You were never an intrusion, Daniel. I don't think time could change that."
This wasn't exactly the information Daniel had been fishing for and he couldn't leave it be. "So you live...?"
"A couple of blocks from here." Jack smiled, enjoying this. Daniel was off balance. He wasn't sure why, but he knew he'd missed this, the pure joy of teasing Daniel. And also, to tell the truth, the times when Daniel wrong-footed him. As he did, momentarily, when he abruptly stopped fishing, gave Jack a genuine smile and said, "Okay. So, let's go then."
"All right!" Jack beamed back at him. "We'll stop at the store on the way."
*
"Nice place you have here." Daniel stood in the middle of Jack's apartment, gathering first impressions and trying to get his bearings as he shucked his jacket and tie with relief and laid them over the back of a chair. It was a beautiful space, airy and light, which whispered quiet prosperity. Blond wood floors gleamed in the filtered late afternoon sunshine from the high windows, the soft light enhanced by the pale walls. Splashes of colour from artfully placed furniture and artwork kept the eyes interested. Like a spread from 'Architectural Digest', Daniel thought to himself. He caught sight of a group of model aeroplanes hanging in one corner with a hockey stick propped carelessly underneath them and smiled to himself; so much different, but so much the same.
"Thanks, I like it," Jack called through cheerfully from the kitchen area.
Daniel followed the sound of the voice and walked into the kitchen, an impressive expanse of dark granite, light beech wood and stainless steel. Jack was hunkered down, examining the contents of a pullout wine rack.
"Red wine, right?" He looked up as he spoke and watched Daniel strolling in while methodically rolling up his shirtsleeves to mid-forearm. That was something Jack hadn't seen in way too long, Daniel making himself comfortable in his space. The slight limp though, that was new - new since the last time he'd seen him anyway. Jack felt abruptly nervous, felt he was trying too hard to be normal, whatever that was. He took a deep breath to steady himself, covering it up with the motion as he rose to his feet.
Daniel watched as Jack surged smoothly back up to stand, bottle in hand. The older Jack had always moved with the remnants of athletic grace, even the last time Daniel had seen him, shortly after yet another surgery. This younger version had the real thing at its zenith: a man totally confident in his body and its abilities.
And he was gorgeous: broad shoulders and deep chest tapering to a trim waist, no sign of softening there; long, lean thighs clad in 501s that fit, emphasising the ranginess of his hips and the strained creases of the fabric over his groin; a tuft of dark chest hair punctuating the shadowed 'v' below the hollow of his throat, hinting at the hairiness of the body beneath his shirt.
Daniel realised he was staring again and caught Jack's eye in apology. The split-second kick he felt in the pit of his stomach from that gaze surprised and confused him before he chalked it up to wishful thinking. Get a grip, for god's sake, he chided himself, you're old enough to be this one's father. And don't forget that even though he's younger, with a whole new layer of different experiences, he's still the same Jack O'Neill at his core.
"Thanks. Red wine will be fine."
"Will you open it? There's a corkscrew in the drawer there." Jack indicated the direction with a nod of his head. "If you do that, I'll start the food."
He matched his actions to his words, rummaging in the fridge and pulling out various ingredients, lining them up on the counter, assembling pots and pans methodically before unwrapping the hastily purchased steaks.
Daniel watched him for a moment or two as he moved around. The economy of movement that he remembered so well was still in evidence, albeit in unusual surroundings. The Jack O'Neill he was familiar with had never been big in the kitchen as far as he could recall. No inclination, and certainly never enough time - although thinking about it, his barbecues had always been good. So maybe the 'no inclination' thing wasn't entirely accurate.
A hand waving in front of his nose brought Daniel suddenly back down to earth. Jack was standing exceedingly close to him, close enough that Daniel could feel the heat radiating from him, close enough that Daniel suddenly felt warm himself. "Daniel? Corkscrew? Or are you hoping the wine will get into the glasses under its own steam?"
"Uh, sorry." Daniel gave a slightly sheepish grin. "I was just thinking... uh, doesn't matter." Because it really wouldn't be tactful now would it, to go into the whole 'compare and contrast' thing. He turned to rummage in the drawer, found the corkscrew and applied himself to opening the bottle.
He was startled though, when Jack said casually over his shoulder as he went back to his preparations, "It wasn't lack of interest, you know, just lack of time." When he looked across and registered Daniel's surprised expression, he amplified, "The cooking thing. Lack of time. There was always other stuff that got in the way. Now, not so much. And I never could stand to go into anything half-assed."
Daniel swallowed his surprise because hell, he should really have known: he and Jack had always been on much the same wavelength on the day-to-day level, just not in the one area where it really mattered, and this man was Jack, despite the added extras. He needed to keep reminding himself of that.
"Glasses are in there," Jack indicated a run of cupboard doors with a backwards gesture of his head, "just keep looking 'til you find them."
"You want red wine as well? Not beer? Or anything?"
"Sure," Jack said lightly. "My tastes have changed a little. Red wine is fine."
He turned his attention back to the food, deftly wrapping the steaks in bacon and setting the skillet to heat, cleaning off the baby red potatoes he'd retrieved from the depths of the fridge, firing up the oven. Daniel found the glasses and poured them, then settled back with one hip against the counter top, enjoying watching him as he savoured his first taste of the wine. He'd always found Jack's effortless physical competence fascinating no matter what task he'd been engaged in, and as he sipped and watched, he allowed himself the momentary indulgence of remembering just how that felt as he started to relax.
When Jack darted him a small sideways smile, he shrugged the memories off, and any residual awkwardness that came with them, pushed himself off from the counter and crossed the space between them with Jack's glass in his hand. Again, that crackle of attraction when he brushed past Jack to the counter and put the glass down within reach but Daniel determinedly pushed it down.
"Here. All the really good chefs cook with a glass of something in easy reach."
"Thanks." Jack grinned more widely and lifted his glass. "Slainte."
Daniel inclined his head in acknowledgement, took another sip and put his glass down. "Nice. Hey, can I do anything to help?"
Jack took his offer at face value. "There're the fixings for a green salad in the fridge. If you want to do that while I'm getting this in the oven, we'll go sit for a while as it's cooking."
"Sure, I can do that," Daniel replied.
"Yeah? You sure?" Jack asked, with a sideways, teasing grin.
Daniel rose to the bait as instinctively as he always had, mock frowning at Jack over the rims of his glasses. "It's salad, Jack. Not some weird-ass purple people eating vegetable from the Black Lagoon. I think I'll cope with that."
"Uh huh. I'll bet you could cope with that weird-ass purple...what was that shit? I'll bet you'd cope with that too. You always did cope with pretty much everything."
"Maybe, maybe not. I'm not sure I could have a meaningful dialogue with an eggplant. Knife?"
"Block's over there," Jack said, cocking his head to indicate its general direction, "And don't be too sure about that. Think of some of the things you've communicated with in your time. Little grey naked guys. Glowy clouds. Blue crystals. Sushi."
"Sushi?" Daniel momentarily stopped rummaging in the bottom of the fridge and popped his head out, a puzzled expression on his face. "I don't ever remember -- oh, wait a minute. Of course. Cute, Jack."
"Sushi," Jack nodded firmly. "After all that, an eggplant would be a snap."
"But not a snappy conversationalist." Daniel flipped the fridge door shut with one hip, dumped the vegetables on the counter and snagged a chopping board.
"Hell no," Jack answered with a grin, "When are they ever?" and Daniel grinned right back at him.
They worked in companionable silence for a while, side by side at the counter. Jack was acutely aware of Daniel's presence by his side and how smoothly they fell back into the old pattern of working efficiently together in the same space. He relaxed into the warm comfort of their harmony, pulling it round himself like a blanket, watching out of the corner of his eye as Daniel methodically chopped and sliced.
“There, we’re set,” Jack said with satisfaction as Daniel tossed the salad. He glanced at the timer. “Fifteen minutes tops and we'll be eating. Okay?”
“Okay.” Daniel dropped the knife he’d been using into the sink and washed his hands, grinning his thanks at Jack when he wordlessly handed him a towel. He grabbed his glass and followed Jack back through to the main room, plopping himself down on the other end of the couch.
Conversation seemed suddenly to have run out for some reason. The silence stretched as they studied each other, though not uncomfortably so, before Daniel broke it.
"So, ten years, huh?"
"Yeah," Jack almost sighed. "The time just seems to run away. It looks good on you though." He tipped his glass in Daniel's direction.
Daniel smiled and tipped his back at him. "Thanks. You too."
"Yeah, well. I had a head start on that one, I guess. But seriously, you look hardly a day older." At Daniel's sceptical look, Jack amplified, "I mean it. I'd've known you anywhere. And the formal look is good on you; I always thought so. Once we'd finally dragged you out of tweed, I thought so."
He was rewarded with a slightly startled, wrinkle-nosed grin. Typical Daniel, matching his memories exactly, SOP for dealing with an unexpected compliment. As he moved, the collar of his shirt shifted and Jack caught a familiar glint of metal. Familiar, but somehow shockingly unexpected around Daniel's neck.
"You're wearing tags."
Daniel's hand came up automatically and he fingered the chain, plucking it away from his skin as if it was too tight. "Uh, yeah." He looked a little self-conscious. "Everyone has to wear them now. I got used to them quite quickly though. I guess I'd miss them now if they weren't there." Daniel paused for a moment, considering. "Actually, that's quite funny really."
"The whole role reversal thing?"
Again, Daniel was slightly startled at how easily this Jack hopped on his train of thought and made himself comfortable. And at how much he missed this easy interaction in his working life. He nodded, "Yeah. Who would ever have thought?"
"Not me," Jack replied with a wide smile. "There is a certain symmetry there though. Kinda restores your faith in the order of the universe, doesn't it?"
"Oddly - yes it does," Daniel replied with an equally wide smile. "That has to be worth a toast as well. To faith in symmetry."
"And ageing gracefully," Jack responded as they clinked glasses.
"That too."
Another slight pause as they took a drink.
"How long are you in town for?"
Daniel hastily swallowed another mouthful of wine. "Uh, depends. I've only just gotten here today and I do have some research to do. As usual, I'm really not sure what sources are going to be helpful and what aren't. If the library here has what I'm looking for, I'll maybe be in town a couple of days."
"And if it doesn't?"
"I'll fly out tomorrow, head for the next one."
Jack smiled warmly at him. "In that case, I'd better start hoping the sources are useful. I'd like the chance to show you around some, hang out for a while. It's been too long."
Daniel slowly smiled back. "Yeah, I think I'd like that." And that was nothing more than the simple truth: Jack's warmth was genuine, and genuinely flattering.
In the kitchen, the timer pinged.
"Hold that thought," Jack said as he got to his feet. "I have a sauce to fix." He grabbed his glass and headed off to the kitchen. Daniel stood up and followed a little more slowly, arriving in time to see Jack taking the meat out of the oven pan. He sniffed appreciatively.
"Smells good."
"It's just about to get better, I hope." The pan sizzled on top of the stove as white wine was added, then garlic, herbs, cracked pepper and cream. Daniel took another deep sniff.
"Oh yeah. You're right about that. It just did. Now it smells sensational."
"Good." Jack gave him another sideways smile as he dropped in some butter and stirred another couple of times, then turned to him with the wooden spoon in his hand. "Here. Give it a try."
He crossed the space between them, spoon held loaded and ready in one hand, the other cupped underneath to catch any spills, and held it up to Daniel’s mouth. Daniel held onto Jack's hand, steadying it as he dipped his head towards the spoon.
"Yep, that's good." He looked up at Jack through his lashes, catching his eyes and smiling into them with his own.
Jack felt his throat constricting as the years rolled back and he rigidly schooled his expression. He'd seen that look directed at him a thousand times in his old life, in the earlier days at least. But he'd hardly seen it at all, latterly. The strange, flirty edge that had always characterised their friendship had surfaced less and less as they'd gotten closer to what he still mentally categorised as Ground Zero.
He'd cut Daniel off. Stupid. But now that look was back and he wasn't about to make the same, ill-judged decision again. If he got the chance - he hadn't yet had the opportunity to find out what the status quo was, but he would. Meantime, Daniel's expression was changing. He seemed aware that they'd been standing too close for a little too long and was backing off, a slightly sheepish look on his face.
Jack said smoothly, covering the gap with his best smile, "Glad you approve. Organise the silverware will ya? Left hand drawer next to the sink. We're good to go."
*
On to Part 2
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-03-19 03:32 pm (UTC)*throws herself down on pillows to stay awhile*
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Date: 2006-03-20 07:48 am (UTC)The sauce came directly out of a really sweet painting by Steve Walker - are you familiar with his work?
www.questart.com
They're all very idealised - but attractive regardless :-) They always make me think 'Queer as Folk US in paint' :-)
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Date: 2006-03-28 03:34 am (UTC)i've seen you - or someone else on lj - mention those paintings before. if they keep inspiring new fic like this, i adore steve walker no end.
sigh. thank you for new jack/daniel.
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Date: 2006-03-19 10:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 07:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 12:27 am (UTC)And rushes on to part 2, now that Demon has got its collective finger out of its ass! Been having that marooned feeling - no internet or e-mail all day!
And it's very good to hear from you again. 8-)
--
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Date: 2006-03-20 07:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-21 02:36 am (UTC)*waits patiently for next installment*
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Date: 2006-03-21 07:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-22 12:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-23 04:21 pm (UTC)*cough*Puck*cough* -- if you're seriously back on J/D that is ;-)
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Date: 2006-03-23 05:32 am (UTC)Do you mind if I rec this? It's amazing and loaded with such great UST...
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Date: 2006-03-23 04:25 pm (UTC)Oh yeah ::happy sigh::. Ain't *that* a lovely picture?
Do you mind if I rec this?
Um, no? I'd be pleased as punch actually, thank you :-)
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Date: 2006-04-04 03:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-04 02:43 pm (UTC)