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Mar. 19th, 2006 02:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
catspawHuh. Have to do this in at least two bits :-(
Daniel pushed his plate away from him with a replete sigh. "That was good. Do you always eat that well?"
"Uh, actually? I pulled out all the stops for you." Jack grinned and ducked his head, absurdly pleased that Daniel had enjoyed his meal, sudden shyness seizing him. "Reunions like this don't happen every day."
"You got that right." Daniel laughed out loud. "How did you learn to cook like that?"
"Self-taught. Like I said before, I was always interested. Never had the time though to really get into it. That wasn't such a problem this time around. And I like to eat." Daniel's lips twitched as he nodded, remembering, "Not just take out and restaurants all the damn time. So, single guy who likes to eat - the cooking thing isn't that much of a reach."
"Single guy?"
Jack sniffed in a slow, deep breath as he nodded. "Yep. Never met the right person yet. Couple of flings, but nothing serious. You?"
"Are you kidding? When did our line of work ever leave room for a social life?" Daniel reached for the wine bottle and refilled their glasses.
"Point." Jack nodded soberly, remembering in his turn. He'd seen the flash of loneliness in Daniel's eyes as he'd answered even though he'd tried to cover it with a grin. It fleshed out at least part of his earlier assessment in the library, and he felt another sharp prickle of emotion that he was hard pressed to put a name to: sympathy, irritation, desire, protectiveness, they all figured in there somewhere.
"Yeah, well," Daniel said lightly. This was dangerous ground, conversational and emotional quicksand snatching at his steps, and he plunged back towards terra firma. "But I'm interested in what you've been doing all these years. I know you went to school, but what else?"
Jack smiled again and pushed back his chair. "That, my friend, is a long story. C'mon, let's get comfortable before we start swapping life histories. We'll take the bottle."
"We should take care of the dishes first at least."
"Okay," Jack nodded and Daniel started to gather them up. "We can put them in the dishwasher. Thanks."
"No problem."
It didn't take long and a few minutes later Jack led the way back to his living room, motioning Daniel to take up his seat on the couch again. The room was starting to get dark, shadows clinging to the corners as the light failed and Jack switched on a couple of the spots before he headed for the couch. Daniel was not quite sprawled at his end but not quite upright either, angled into the corner so he could lean his arm along the back of the couch, wineglass within easy reach on the coffee table. It made Jack smile to see him like that, gradually winding down and making himself at home in his space, took him straight back to the good years. He was still smiling, bottom lip caught between his teeth, as he took up his own seat, angled into his own corner, one long leg folded up underneath him, the other stretched out to the floor.
"What?"
"I was just thinking how good it is to see you again. I'm glad I chose to go to the library today."
"Yeah, what were you doing there anyway?" Daniel sounded surprised at the idea of Jack O'Neill in a library. Jack's smile turned into a chuckle and Daniel looked abashed. "Uh, I didn't mean -- you didn't pick up any books."
"You distracted me. Doesn't matter. I can go back tomorrow. I meant to use the business database there, but it's nothing urgent."
"Business database? Okay, I'm intrigued. Tell me everything."
"'Everything' is a pretty tall order, Daniel." And one he wasn't yet sure would be a good idea. Although he really wasn't up for following in his own footsteps and saying nothing; not any more. He'd grown beyond that at least. But Daniel was replying to him again with another genuine smile.
"Okay then. Just give me the short version."
"Okay. Given the choice, I'd've been a pro hockey player. But that wouldn't have been a real smart move, given my history, or should I say, lack of history." Daniel nodded his understanding and agreement as Jack continued, "And the military was closed off to me, for obvious reasons. Besides, I'd been there, done that. Wasn't really up for doing it again, even if I could."
His eyes clouded as he remembered precisely why, skirting round the edges of the store of memories from his previous life. Daniel saw the shadow fall across them and attempted to steer the conversation back to safer ground.
"You still play though. I saw the stick in the corner."
"Only occasionally. These days, I coach. Junior college team, and they're doing okay."
"So what did you do instead?"
Another wide smile, a genuine smile that made Jack's eyes sparkle as he raised his glass in a mock toast. "I took the old guy's advice. Never thought I would at first, but I thought about it some and could see it made sense, so I did. Buckled down at school, no goofing off, got me a degree - a good one too, mechanical engineering - then a post grad in business studies."
"Yeah? Good for you! Then what?"
"Then I started my own company."
This was surprising, although Daniel couldn't have said precisely why. But when he thought about it some more, thought about the logistical training and the single-minded determination characteristic of the prototype Jack O'Neill, maybe it wasn't such a surprise after all. Engineering though...
"Engineering? Funny, I wouldn't have thought..." Daniel tailed off and gave an embarrassed half-chuckle. "Sorry, I can't see you as a grease monkey somehow."
Jack's laugh was warm and genuine. "Hell no! Engineering was a useful fallback and it comes in handy from time to time now but I missed flying too much. When I was - -" he caught himself smoothly and changed tack with a shrug and a small grimace of wry amusement, "When he was young, the Air Force was the quickest route to the skies. Flying was all he really wanted to do. In that, we were no different. Plus I could remember what it was like, having the freedom that flying brings, you know? So I took flying lessons and got my licence --"
Daniel started to laugh himself. "You took flying lessons? After all those hours in F-18s and the F302 you took lessons?"
"Yeah, yeah, I know." Jack's eyes were sparkling as he relished telling his story. He watched Daniel's face as his eyes crinkled up at the corners. He was finally relaxed and loose, lounging back on the couch, butt pushed forward on the seat so he could rest his head in the crook of the arm, mellowed by good food, wine and conversation. Yeah, this was Daniel at his best, handsome face alive and expressive, eyes glowing with enthusiasm and amusement. He'd never wanted him quite as much as he did right then.
"It was a pain in the ass having to keep my mouth shut at times, but I managed it somehow. Means to an end, you know? It was the only way to get my licence in this lifetime, so I just had to suck it up and go with it. I'll tell ya though, my instructor was sure as hell impressed with my 'natural aptitude'." Jack's voice intensified into a sarcastic drawl over his last two words and Daniel snorted with appreciative laughter. "But he was just a kid. You know the type - bouncy and bushy tailed, like a puppy. Even if I'd had the clearance, I wouldn't have had the heart to point out that I'd probably been flying combat missions before he was born.
"Anyway, like I said - means to an end. You're looking at the proud owner of Aske Air Freight - 'Need to move it? Aske for service'." Jack cocked his head to one side as he finished speaking with a quizzical lift of one eyebrow, mouth folding into a small, sly smile, and Daniel frowned, getting the feeling that he was waiting for something.
"Ask?"
"With an 'e'."
Daniel's brow slowly cleared. "Cute. The first man created by the Asgard."
"I knew you'd get it. Nobody else does." Jack's expression broadened into a conspiratorial grin, and it struck Daniel yet again how great it was that this Jack had come to terms so well with his circumstances. And how attractive it was. Although it was a little strange too: he had an ease and an openness about him that Daniel wasn't used to any more from the Jack O'Neill that he knew best, and that threw him almost as much as it captivated him.
"The 'e' shouldn't really be silent, you know."
Daniel's lips remained slightly pursed as he considered the inaccuracy in pronunciation and Jack smiled to himself at his typically disapproving expression as he defended it, "Yeah, well, poetic licence. I thought it was justified. Plus, you know, I couldn't resist flipping the bird at NID in a mild kind of a way."
Nodding, Daniel asked, "Did they get it?" His eyes were gleaming with humour again.
"What do you think?" The familiar shark grin was in place on Jack's face and Daniel laughed outright.
"Just guessing here - but not even if you clubbed them over the head with it. Way too subtle for them."
"And Doctor Jackson shoots and scores yet again."
"What, you think I got all those letters after my name just for showing up in class?"
"Nah, I never thought that." Jack was serious for a moment, eyes full of affection that warmed Daniel when he saw it, before he changed tack again. "It's only small right now of course, me and two other pilots, but it's going places."
"Quite literally."
"Yeah," Jack chuckled at the small pun and took another drink from the glass in his hand. "So that's you up to speed with my life, pretty much. What about yours? What have you been up to for the last few years?"
Daniel cocked his head to one side in a one-shouldered shrug. "Same old. I'm still with the SGC, as you no doubt realised the minute you met me in the library. I don't go off world any more though." He gave a self-deprecating grin. "I leave that to the youngsters. Besides," he pointed down towards his left leg.
"I noticed the limp," Jack said. "What happened?"
"Oh, you know. One megalomaniac snake too many," Daniel said lightly. "Long story short, the doctors saved the leg but couldn't make it good as new. So I was grounded."
Jack deliberately let that one slide. He knew how much Daniel would miss going off world, he'd lived that one himself. "So, what then? Head of Department?"
"Yep," Daniel nodded. "I head up a combined department. Xenoanth/Xenoarch and Linguistics." He laughed a little self-consciously. "It's a bit of a mouthful - I never did get around to thinking up a snappy department title."
"Oh, I dunno. It seems appropriate - XXL. That's quite a wide ranging brief you have there; extra, extra large seems to fit somehow."
Daniel snorted, overlooking Jack's small attempt at levity. "Wide ranging is a word and a half. And still no adequate budget, so no changes there either. The Pentagon still has its head up its collective ass when it comes to funding the social sciences section of the program. There's still never enough money, and never, ever enough time to do a thorough job with the knowledge we gain. Not unless it's strategic, or military, or --"
Jack chimed in and said, at exactly the same moment as Daniel, "A big honkin' space gun."
"Yeah," Daniel said with a rueful chuckle.
"Still rankles, huh?"
Daniel didn't reply, just gave him a look that Jack remembered well.
"Yeah, it still rankles," Jack repeated with a slow nod of his head.
Daniel shrugged. "I guess. You know how it is. Plus ça change..."
"Et plus c'est la même chose. I know. The Pentagon will never develop any kind of altruism and you'll never develop a truly military mindset. Which still makes your daily work frustrating."
"Oh, don't get me wrong. There's still a lot that I can do," Daniel said earnestly. "And on balance, I enjoy my job. It's just -- we could do so much more, you know?"
"No arguments from me. It was always like that and I guess it always will be. Different agendas. Neither completely right, neither completely wrong, just different."
There was a short, uncomfortable silence as both men contemplated the old argument, before they caught each other's eye and tacitly agreed to just let it drop.
"So, what about Carter? And Teal'c? Are they still with the SGC? Or is that classified?"
Daniel chuckled. "We've done nothing except talk classified information, strictly speaking, for most of the evening. Like I'm going to worry about that now?"
Jack grinned back at him. "I guess. So, how are they both?"
"Both well. Sam is 2IC of the SGC now. She goes off world occasionally, but there was a policy change there too and it's frowned on these days. She divides her time between admin and her lab, and she seems happy enough."
"Still no significant other?"
Daniel shook his head, his mouth suddenly tightening. "There was for a while, but he's not on the scene any more," he said shortly. "It didn't work out."
There seemed to be some back-story there, from the tone of Daniel's voice, but he didn't elaborate even though Jack waited a beat for him to start. So he contented himself with saying merely, "Pity."
"I thought so too. They seemed good together, but who can ever tell?" Daniel paused for a moment, then continued, "Teal'c went home - the old team really fell apart when that happened, it was never the same after that. He's fine though, or was the last time I heard, about three months ago. I don't think Jaffa politics will ever be an easy option."
At Jack's raised eyebrow, Daniel amplified, "The Jaffa declared themselves free a long time ago, but the factions are still arguing about exactly what freedom means, even after all this time. You know what Jaffa are like when it comes to, uh, philosophical differences. Let's just say it keeps Teal'c on his toes. Though he has Bra'tac to run interference for him, and vice versa of course."
Jack's face lit up. "Bra'tac, the old son of a gun. He's still going strong? He must be what, about a hundred and fifty now? A hundred and fifty two?"
Daniel nodded. "About that, yeah." Daniel raised his eyes to the ceiling as he did the math. "Actually, a hundred and fifty five. He's getting a little less robust now physically, though it'd be a brave man that suggested that to him. Apart from that, he's as... vigorous as ever."
"Yeah. That's a word and a half. When I think 'Bra'tac', I definitely think 'vigorous'. I wouldn't mind meeting him again some day." Jack smiled fondly.
There was another short pause.
"And the old guy? What's he up to these days?"
Jack asked the question with studied casualness, not looking up but twirling the stem of the wine glass between finger and thumb while he stared into the depths of his wine. His tone set Daniel's internal alarm bells jangling, although he couldn't have said precisely why. He answered, lightly enough he hoped, "I haven't seen the Major General for quite some time. Last I heard he was doing okay though."
"Major General is it now?" Jack gave a low, appreciative whistle. "Fast track in the end, huh? Who'd 'a thought it after all those years stuck as a Colonel?"
"I suppose so." Daniel's voice was as colourless as he could make it. "He was promoted to General and ran the SGC when General Hammond left, then again when he went to fly a desk in Washington. That didn't altogether work out and he took over starting up the Gamma Site. He hasn't been on world for years, except for flying visits to the Pentagon. When he comes to Earth, we never have time to meet up - too many policy meetings with the brass."
Jack felt a curious mixture of emotions. He hadn't missed the bitter little twist to Daniel's lips at the end of this statement, nor the slightly wistful tone of his voice, and it yet again stirred all the old protective urges that this man had always inspired in him. But mixed in with them was sadness for his alter ego, which he soon dismissed as irritation seeped in and turned into downright anger. But then the anger bled away in the face of the first faint stirrings of hope.
"Gamma site?"
Daniel nodded slowly. "The Beta site was located and destroyed by Anubis, about a year after you --" He stopped dead and flushed a little. "I'm sorry, that was crass of me."
Jack smiled. "It's okay. I came to terms with it long ago. It took me a while to realise it, but I reckon I got the best end of the deal there after all, in most respects anyway. Not all, but most. Yeah, sure, the whole 'old guy in a young skin' thing was a little odd, at least to start with, but overall? It's worked out okay."
Daniel gestured around the apartment. "I can see that. It looks like you're doing all right for yourself."
Jack smiled again and tipped his head to one side. "That wasn't quite what I meant, but never mind."
"So what did you mean?" At Jack's questioning look, Daniel expanded, "Seriously. I'm interested."
Jack gave a fleeting grimace, holding Daniel's eyes for a moment before staring down into the depths of his glass again with pursed lips. He waited a beat or two before answering, waited so long that Daniel was beginning to wonder if he was going to answer at all. Then just when Daniel was casting around for some new topic, any topic to lift the sudden tension he was feeling between them, he replied, a sober expression on his face.
"It's a strange experience, having to remould a life into something different. It's a great opportunity too, to be able to change the things that you're not happy with."
"You didn't seem to think that to start with," Daniel observed.
Jack said slowly, "No... No, I didn't. I was too concerned with the smaller picture then, I think. Too resentful of what I was losing to consider or appreciate what I was gaining. I've worked it out since then. Found a balance. Made some changes. Done some things a little differently. Done some things a lot better, I hope, but hey," he shrugged, "who can say that for sure?"
Daniel smiled gently. "No one, I guess. So what would you say you've done a lot better? So far?"
Jack looked at Daniel, quietly assessing him. He sensed there were feelings there for the other him, if he was reading Daniel correctly. So maybe now was the time to take a chance. Or maybe he'd find it too fucked up or something, that he was willing to give what the old guy hadn't, or couldn't. That'd always been the trouble with Daniel, his reactions never came as standard. He had his own unique way of looking at things, and had never been totally predictable. He was even less so now, with all the extra water that had passed under the bridge.
Meantime, Daniel had noticed him chewing the inside of his lip, and his attention had sharpened while he was waiting for a reply. Jack mentally crossed his fingers and made his decision.
He said carefully, looking Daniel straight in the eye to gauge his reaction, "Well for one thing, I'm out. Have been since college. No more hiding, and that's a relief."
"Out?" Daniel's face was a study in perplexity. "Out, as in...?"
"Yep. Out. As in," Jack supplied helpfully.
Daniel's reaction wasn't quite what Jack expected. "Out," he repeated thoughtfully. And a split second later, Jack saw a spark of anger leap in his eyes before they dropped to his own glass. Hell no, that wasn't the reaction he'd been hoping for at all.
And then Daniel surprised him again. He started to chuckle softly as he sat swirling the wine gently round in his glass with great concentration. It was a bitter little sound, not much humour in it.
"What?"
"What? Oh, I'm sorry." Daniel looked up and took in the expression on Jack's face and immediately sobered up. "I wasn't laughing at you."
"What then?"
"At myself, I guess. At my life so far. And it's not even close to being funny, so don't ask, because I really don't understand it myself." Daniel drained his glass and put it down on the coffee table with a loud click. And then, with a sudden change of direction, tightened his lips and said, "So. The Major General's in the closet then?" He shook his head. "And people think the Universe has no sense of humour."
So there it was. All of his questions were now answered, for better or worse. The old guy had never said a thing. And probably never would now, he'd figure the chance had been missed for good. Ever the pragmatist, he'd never back track. And Daniel was hurting about it. "Damn," Jack muttered. "Daniel, I'm..."
Daniel cut across him, talking fast and a little more loudly than was strictly necessary, not looking at him. "I'm sorry. I really wasn't laughing at you." A small, apologetic grin flitted across his face. "You know, I think I'm getting a little punch drunk here. Chalk it up to tiredness? I've been up since stupid o'clock this morning. I should really get back to the hotel and get some sleep. I've got a busy schedule in the morning."
"Daniel --" Jack half lifted a hand in an attempt to hold him back, but he was already on his feet, taking an exaggerated look at his wristwatch.
"I guess I'll catch a cab easy enough outside? It's not that late."
Jack could still recognise tactical error when it was staring him in the face and had never lost his appreciation of the value of falling back to regroup. He leaned forward and lifted his cell from the coffee table. "If you hold on, I'll call one for you."
Daniel gave him a quick smile as he shrugged into his jacket and replied in a determinedly normal tone of voice. "Thanks, but I'll get one myself. I think some fresh air might do me a bit of good. Get rid of that punchy, muzzy feeling, you know?"
His eyes met Jack's for a brief instant - and Jack realised with a slight shock that his assessment had been wrong. Daniel wasn't hurting - he was furious and doing his best to swallow it down. His face wore a slight smile but his eyes were flint. Always a dangerous look on Daniel, he recalled: it usually meant he was going to come out swinging, either literally or metaphorically. And right now it was a signal that he should give in gracefully, before he totally blew it. Because even though Daniel was angry, he wasn't altogether sure that he was angry with him. Not yet anyway.
"Well okay, if you're sure." Best to keep their goodbyes as normal as possible, they both instinctively knew it. More civilised that way.
"I'm sure. And thanks. It's been good. Maybe we'll get the chance to do this again some time."
Jack rose to his feet as Daniel turned for the door. That last comment hadn't sounded at all encouraging. Worse, it had sounded dismissive.
"Tomorrow maybe? I'll call you; see how you're getting on with your research. See if you're going to be here longer than a few hours. We could maybe fit in that sight-seeing."
Daniel nodded slightly, responding automatically to the slight rise in Jack's voice. "We'll see. I'm at the Allerton. You know it?"
"On North Michigan?" Jack nodded his head and pulled a face in acknowledgement. "Nice."
"It's okay. Somewhere to lay my head." Another small smile, a mere twist of the lips, that didn't reach Daniel's eyes. "So, uh -- thanks again. The meal was great." A quick, awkward handshake, accompanied by a sharp, chilly glance from under lowered brows, and Jack mechanically opened the door and saw Daniel out.
"Night, Daniel," he said to a stiff, retreating back, watching for long moments before he closed the door and shot the bolts, turning to lean against it and drop his head back against the wood with a huge exhalation of breath.
Okay, maybe that hadn't gone so well.
*
Daniel reached the street and stood for a few moments, hunching his shoulders against the slight chill of the intermittent breeze that was raising small dust devils where it swirled into the lee of the buildings. Yeah, the Windy City, sure enough, he thought sourly. Its nickname wasn't misplaced. He turned up his collar and shoved his hands in his pockets as he looked up and down the quiet street then turned and started to walk, keeping one eye open for a cab.
He heard one coming up behind him and turned, ready to hail it. No joy there, the light was out and he could make out the passenger sitting in the back seat. No actually, a couple sitting so closely entwined that it was difficult to make out that one was in fact two until the cab swooshed past under the street light. Huh, and there's a metaphor for my life right there. Yeah, that works on so many levels, he thought bitterly then hunched his shoulders in self-disgust. That had been pathetic.
In his pockets, his hands balled into fists. Wasted time, missed opportunities: both of them made him angry. Fourteen fucking years wasted, god knew how many opportunities passed up. Shit. And all that time, Jack cowering in the closet. Fuck. That made him angriest of all. His mouth tightened into a thin, resentful line and he kicked moodily at a soda can that was lying on the sidewalk, watching with grim satisfaction as it bounced off at a clattering tangent, spewing the remains of its contents in a messy arc as it went.
And yet -- and yet. The noise and the motion released something inside him and his anger ebbed slightly; he could begin to see beyond it. It wasn't so clear cut as that, maybe, after all. Years of knowing Jack, of knowing exactly how his mind worked, hadn't been entirely wasted. He was above all an honourable man: duty, conscience, a passionate belief in freedom, his unshakeable conviction of his place in securing it, were all important to him. Doubly so when he'd sworn an oath. It didn't matter how often he bent the rules; the underlying principles were bedrock. They were what made Jack, Jack.
But these uncompromising values were grafted onto his basic nature, the warm, gregarious, essentially loving man that he took great pains to conceal from anyone that wasn't close to him. It had to have been a hard road for him to take, to bury his nature and subordinate it to his career.
Huh. He'd thought, until today, that he was over that instinctive reaction to defend the Major General, the pattern that had been set all those years ago on Abydos and sealed since then with a staff blast or several. Apparently not. And wasn't that just a blast too?
It was all speculation. He didn't know for sure and probably never would. But it was always important to him, to know. And now, he needed to know whether he'd been an idiot all those years when he'd wished and hoped, or whether it was Jack who'd been the fool. Because he would have waited, if Jack had asked: he wouldn't have relished it, but he would have understood. Damn it all, he'd pretty well done exactly that even though Jack had never asked. He'd never gone without, but he'd never given anything more than an enjoyable fuck.
He knew better than to think that he and his Jack could turn back the clock. No one could do that. And after all this time, even their friendship had burned out at its core, reduced to being civil to each other on the very rare occasions they met. But he needed something.
He needed closure. He needed a firm line drawn in the ledger, underscored by a credible explanation. One, he realised, that he would never get from the emotionally evasive Major General.
But this other Jack - this one was Jack as he should have been, as he might have been were it not for the damn military and their idiot rules, and the Goa'uld and the war with Anubis that had held Jack to those rules. All the shit that had gone down in the older Jack's life and no breathing space to get it all into some kind of perspective; all the stuff that had closed him down and locked him up tight.
And he did have a unique handle on what made his predecessor tick. When in doubt, go back to the primary sources when you can. Maybe this Jack would give him a straight answer.
The complete inappropriateness of his choice of phrase tickled some grim sense of irony inside him and his lips stretched in a bleak travesty of a smile as he made his decision and turned back the way he'd come.
*
It was a slightly different matter when Daniel stood facing the door to Jack's apartment again, hand poised to knock. He stood for a moment, chewing on his lip as he pondered the wisdom of what he was about to do, then squared his shoulders and knocked anyway. The time had come for him to take care of himself.
He started talking as soon as the door started its inward swing. "Jack, I uh--"
He paused as he took in the sight in front of him. Jack stood in front of him, barefoot, shirt open and the edges of the material parting to reveal a broad stripe of attractively hairy muscle.
Jack's face creased into a smile and he threw the door wide, gesturing him inside with a wave of his arm. The shirt swung wide with the movement, revealing a flat, dark brown nipple, leaving Daniel stunned by a lurching jolt of lust deep in his belly. He flashed on it hardening under his fingers before he recovered himself and swallowed.
"You forgot your books. I was going to drop them by the hotel in the morning."
"Books?" Daniel was momentarily thrown, creased brow reflecting his confusion. "Uh yeah. I guess I did." He moistened his lips, trying to clear his thoughts.
Jack's eyebrows were on the rise, his head cocked to one side. His smile faded slightly as he waited for Daniel to carry on, gaze flicking from Daniel's mouth to his eyes, where they caught and held. For a split second his eyes looked puzzled before their expression changed and Daniel watched the pupils dilate as arousal crackled out of nowhere. A slick of need tingled over his own skin as his pulse quickened and his dick jerked in his pants.
Instinctively, his eyes dropped, lingering on the thick ridge of Jack's cock, already growing hard and obvious in the confines of his jeans as he turned and closed the open door. He didn't stop to think but moved in close, so close that they nearly bumped noses when Jack turned back, staring at him for a long slow moment before he swooped in and claimed Jack's mouth.
For a moment he thought Jack wouldn't respond. The lips under his were slack and immobile. But only for a moment: Jack's tongue was surprisingly thick and agile when it woke up, winding and gliding against his, quicksilver motion impossible to predict, flowing into his mouth and then withdrawing, inviting Daniel in. His hands were everywhere as he scrabbled Daniel's shirt out of his waistband and rucked it and his jacket high up his back in an untidy mess. Daniel felt a thumb sweeping against his nipple, felt it from his chest down to the tip of his cock; felt blunt nails scratching over the small of his back; felt the prickle of spit-soaked skin drying around his mouth when they finally parted, breathing heavily.
His own hands were under Jack's shirt, skimming over his ribs, kneading the muscles in his back. They skimmed over the patch of hair where Jack's spine disappeared under his waistband, back up to the warm silk of his shoulders. Each touch, each different texture was a direct charge to the pool of heavy pleasure growing low in his gut.
Jack pulled in a shuddering gulp of air and held Daniel tight, burying his head in the crook of his neck for a moment. Pulling back and staring avidly at him, his expression dissolved into a brilliant smile that warmed Daniel like a thousand suns.
"You came back. I thought I'd blown it - again. I'm glad I didn't." Jack leaned his forehead briefly against Daniel's, then lifted his head and added with a glint of sly mischief, "I'd rather blow you."
Daniel laughed as he pushed away and held Jack's gaze. He undid his pants and said simply, "So what's stopping you? Not me, that's for sure."
Jack's eyes dropped to Daniel's open fly, fixing on the bulge of his cock where it was tenting its fabric confines. His tongue snaked out over his lips before he raised his eyes again. The flare of desire that Daniel saw in them made a wave of heat course over his skin. He wondered for a wild moment if Jack would just drop to his knees right here and now, balls tightening at thoughts of coming hard and fast in Jack's mouth for the first round, the image of his dick sliding between those lips.
"Not here though. C'mon." Jack tugged at his arm to get him moving and led the way to the bedroom, shrugging out of his shirt as he went.
He balled it up and flung it one-handed in the general direction of the laundry hamper in the corner, popping the button of his jeans with the other hand, and turned to watch Daniel coming through the door behind him, minus his jacket and glasses and hauling his shirt up and off by the hem, still buttoned.
His eyes raked Daniel up and down, hot and hungry, watching the play of muscles in his stomach and bunched shoulders. Only marginal signs of softening there in the slight swell of belly: Daniel was keeping in shape. He followed the fine trail of hair that started around his navel, down to his open fly and his cock, freed now, veined and thick, rearing from a dark riot of pubic hair. It bobbed gently as Daniel moved, beckoning him, beautiful, hard and ready for him.
He watched Daniel's face as his head popped out of his shirt and his breath hitched. The brilliant blue of his eyes was almost swallowed by the black pupils and he was breathing hard, a single bead of sweat glistening in the furrow of his upper lip. Their eyes locked as Daniel toed out of his shoes and they both stripped off their pants and shorts, and stayed locked as Daniel advanced towards him. And god, he would swear Daniel was growling. He could hear it at the edge of his hearing, a low, thrumming rumble, sound without noise. When Daniel wound one hand through the hair at the back of his head and pulled back hard, stretching his neck in a taut curve and latching onto the pulse point at the base of his throat, he was sure of it. Daniel's chest vibrated against his and he felt an increased charge of desire mixed with simple pride that he could turn him on like that.
Warm fingers curled round his cock and he shook as the realisation hit him - this was Daniel. Daniel biting his neck and shoulders, licking a broad stripe up his throat and finding his mouth again, hand still clenched in his hair. Daniel working his cock so exactly right as if he'd been doing it for years, not seconds, hand sliding down his back to grip and knead his ass. He wormed his hand between them and took hold of Daniel's cock, groaning "oh yeah," softly against the mobile lips nibbling at his as he lifted into his hand, breathing hard as his own grip adjusted around smooth, hot satin.
Daniel sagged against him briefly and grunted quietly before his knees locked again. Jack nudged him with one shoulder and he got the message. One more fierce, passionate kiss, a kiss that turned Jack's knees to jelly and made his gut lurch, and he turned to lie spread out over the bed.
Daniel felt the shock of Jack's weight settling on him skin to skin with every square inch of his body. For a moment he lay passive, revelling in the heat and weight holding him down flat, the hard cock digging into his thigh, the velvety pressure against his cock where it lay trapped between them, before he grasped Jack's shoulders and urged him downwards. He felt Jack smiling against his skin as he followed his direction and slithered leisurely down his body, swirling his tongue against a nipple, delicately tracing the lines of pecs and abs with his lips, nipping the skin over one hip, sucking hard enough to bruise on the inside of one thigh.
Soft touches, hard bites, blood pounding through his veins, all welded into a white blur of sensation that left him gasping and twisting the sheets into knots with his fists. Finally, the roughness of slight stubble scratching his ass, the softness and slickness of Jack's tongue as it flickered around his asshole, the pressure of one warm hand firmly cupping his balls, exploring them with long, sensitive fingers.
Jack rimmed him thoroughly, taking his time to savour the tastes of musk and salt, the muted murmurs of encouragement coming from above him, the sensation of Daniel opening for him as his tongue worked back and forth, round and in, until one of Daniel's heels dug into his ass and urged him upwards. He slipped one finger in and mouthed his way up to Daniel's cock as he searched for his gland, smiling as he felt him stiffen and shudder underneath him and heard the sighed "yes", looking up to watch his stomach muscles tensing and flexing. He licked, flat-tongued, up the shaft and lipped at the crown, getting his first taste of pre-come, a salt-sweet burst on his tongue, as one of Daniel's hands tangled in his hair again, clutching the back of his skull.
Jack lifted his head at that, and smiled into Daniel's eyes, then dipped it again as the hand tightened and coaxed him back down to finally take Daniel's cock fully into his mouth. The hand in his hair fell away and Daniel went rigid as he strained to subdue his impulse to thrust. He didn't completely succeed, but Jack rode it easily, fitting the motion of his head to the bucking of Daniel's hips as his tongue mapped the contours of his cock.
He sensed that Daniel was close and backed off with a hard squeeze to the base of his cock, and was rewarded with a low rasp of frustration coming from way back in Daniel's throat.
"Finish me." Daniel's voice was a ragged gasp.
Jack shook his head. "I don't want us to come until I'm inside you. Okay?"
Daniel nodded and replaced Jack's hand on his cock with his own. "Hurry up. I'm close."
Daniel watched him greedily as he slicked himself up, and closed his eyes and gasped, slack-jawed and sweating and still gripping the base of his cock, as Jack prepped him. Finally he drew back his knees and let Jack in.
Heat and pressure almost too much to bear: Jack closed his eyes and gulped air as he fought to maintain his control. When he felt steadier, he opened his eyes and looked down, catching his breath with fascinated desire. He'd never in his life seen Daniel look so open to anyone or anything. Daniel's self-containment was shattered and all that was left was sensation. The urge to make this last for him finally beat out the urge to come, balancing Jack on the thin edge between pleasure and frustration.
Jack stroked into him with a steady rhythm, slow and easy, losing himself completely, all five senses engaged. He felt Daniel's heat gripping his cock and his hands skimming his ribs; he heard the quiet huffs of sound his actions caused. He could taste Daniel on his tongue and smell the scents of fresh sweat and sex. When he finally opened his eyes and looked down, he marvelled at the sight: Daniel, eyes drowned in pleasure of his making, hair damp with sweat, back arching off the bed with every stroke as he white-knuckled the sheets. He leaned in for a kiss, feeling a sharp jolt of exultant pride. He'd done this to Daniel, for Daniel - him, not the old guy. Him.
Daniel shifted under him and Jack understood. He pulled him in close, hauling his legs up and onto his shoulders, so that Daniel could start to move, really move. He upped the pace until Jack was pounding into him, grinding hard with his hips to meet every stroke, sweating and straining, damp hair plastered to his head, a small, fierce smile on his face.
Jack's world narrowed down to a pinpoint as his balls drew up tight. He was dimly aware that he was snarling as Daniel cried out but he wasn't listening. He was watching as Daniel came, thick stripes of come splattering over his stomach as he thrust into him, hard. And then there was only feeling, as his balls emptied and he finally collapsed in a sweating heap into Daniel's arms.
*
He liked Daniel this way, Jack decided - drowsy and warm in the ruins of his once crisply laundered bed (some habits were impossible to shed), skin glistening where the lamplight gilded its contours as the sweat cooled on his body, looking thoroughly well-fucked. The years really dropped away from him when he looked like this. He looked incredibly boyish for a fifty year old, his face relaxed and open, what lines there were smoothed out by his explosive release. Much, much younger than he'd looked at the same age, that was for sure.
Yeah, he could stand to see this more than once in this lifetime, and to know that he was the cause. He propped himself up on one arm and settled down to look, then touch. Because finally he was allowed to.
He rested his hand on Daniel's chest, fingers splayed, and stroked lightly, concentrating on the drag of slightly sticky skin against the pads of his fingers, memorising the solid contours of muscle and bone, content to rest in the moment if he could.
But he had the strangest feeling that the old guy was surfacing in his head, fighting this and fighting it hard. Fighting the new, improved him in the way he hadn't done for years, threatening to fuck this new beginning up, just as he'd fucked up the old one.
Wasn't gonna happen, he thought with a small frown and a determined tightening of his lips. He had nothing to do with the Major General now, nothing at all. This was about him and Daniel, here and now, not past history. And besides, he thought with a characteristic surge of triumphant one-upmanship, this was an area where he had all the advantages. He knew exactly how to love a man and that gave him the inside track.
He forced the old guy in his head to finally retreat with his tail between his legs just as he became aware that Daniel was watching him, cataloguing the play of expressions over his face with a practiced eye.
"The same, but not the same," Daniel murmured, almost to himself. Jack stared at him, trying to divine his meaning from his look, but Daniel's expression was neutral. He couldn't tell what Daniel meant, whether it was a good thing or a bad, and he was suddenly fearful, heart hammering in his chest. So Jack, being Jack in all the ways that really mattered, forced his face into an expression of neutrality and offered Daniel a graceful 'out'.
"He loved you, you know. Possibly still does, I dunno. He just never quite got his head out of his ass to tell you."
With a gentle smile, Daniel replied, "Yeah. I really didn't know before tonight but I've kinda guessed as much. You're him in all the essentials after all, and people just don't change that much. I don't think. But why bring that up now?"
"Just - I don't want you to settle. I don't want this - you know, if there is a 'this' here," Jack sketched a vague circle in the space between them as Daniel raised one quizzical eyebrow, "to be second best, you know?" He gave a small, rueful grin and ran a hand through his hair in an achingly familiar gesture, leaving it tufted up and messy. "You know me - I never did like it when I wasn't top dog. Another of those things that's never changed, deep down."
Daniel watched Jack carefully as he was speaking. His face was almost smiling, mocking himself, but his eyes were anxious and his body was very, very still. Though when it came right down to it, it was remarkably simple; there was only one possible answer he could give. He lifted his hand to cup the back of Jack's neck, then ran his palm lightly down over the bunched muscles of his arm, idly watching the flesh twitch under his touch before looking back into his eyes.
"Not second best, no," he said gravely. "A second chance. And that's a different thing entirely."
*
Epilogue
Major General Jack O'Neill (USAF, retired) paused as his hand reached into his pocket for his cell. He thought for a moment then continued anyway and punched in the number he'd pulled from the personnel files just before he'd finally left the mountain.
"O'Neill."
Yeah, that figured. But it made him hesitate.
"Who's this?"
"O'Neill here." Silence on the other end of the line. Then,
"What do you want?"
It was brusque, suspicious, not friendly. Okay, so he hadn't expected the fatted calf exactly. He could deal.
"Don't even ask if you can speak to Daniel."
"I wasn't going to." A snort of harsh laughter.
"Okay. I might have known that already. So what do you want?"
Good question. He closed his eyes briefly and thought about it. What did he want? Affirmation, reassurance, what? He wasn't sure he could answer that -- no wait, he could. Intel was what he needed.
"Is he happy?" A prolonged silence before the reply came down the line in a soft voice. A tender voice, he thought, a bitter stab of regret for might have beens twisting somewhere deep inside, surprisingly painful even after all this time. He ruthlessly stamped it down with the ease of long practice.
"Yeah, I think so. I'm trying my best to make it happen."
"Good," he said gruffly, with a sharp nod of satisfaction, "You won't hear from me again." And closed up his phone.
END
Daniel pushed his plate away from him with a replete sigh. "That was good. Do you always eat that well?"
"Uh, actually? I pulled out all the stops for you." Jack grinned and ducked his head, absurdly pleased that Daniel had enjoyed his meal, sudden shyness seizing him. "Reunions like this don't happen every day."
"You got that right." Daniel laughed out loud. "How did you learn to cook like that?"
"Self-taught. Like I said before, I was always interested. Never had the time though to really get into it. That wasn't such a problem this time around. And I like to eat." Daniel's lips twitched as he nodded, remembering, "Not just take out and restaurants all the damn time. So, single guy who likes to eat - the cooking thing isn't that much of a reach."
"Single guy?"
Jack sniffed in a slow, deep breath as he nodded. "Yep. Never met the right person yet. Couple of flings, but nothing serious. You?"
"Are you kidding? When did our line of work ever leave room for a social life?" Daniel reached for the wine bottle and refilled their glasses.
"Point." Jack nodded soberly, remembering in his turn. He'd seen the flash of loneliness in Daniel's eyes as he'd answered even though he'd tried to cover it with a grin. It fleshed out at least part of his earlier assessment in the library, and he felt another sharp prickle of emotion that he was hard pressed to put a name to: sympathy, irritation, desire, protectiveness, they all figured in there somewhere.
"Yeah, well," Daniel said lightly. This was dangerous ground, conversational and emotional quicksand snatching at his steps, and he plunged back towards terra firma. "But I'm interested in what you've been doing all these years. I know you went to school, but what else?"
Jack smiled again and pushed back his chair. "That, my friend, is a long story. C'mon, let's get comfortable before we start swapping life histories. We'll take the bottle."
"We should take care of the dishes first at least."
"Okay," Jack nodded and Daniel started to gather them up. "We can put them in the dishwasher. Thanks."
"No problem."
It didn't take long and a few minutes later Jack led the way back to his living room, motioning Daniel to take up his seat on the couch again. The room was starting to get dark, shadows clinging to the corners as the light failed and Jack switched on a couple of the spots before he headed for the couch. Daniel was not quite sprawled at his end but not quite upright either, angled into the corner so he could lean his arm along the back of the couch, wineglass within easy reach on the coffee table. It made Jack smile to see him like that, gradually winding down and making himself at home in his space, took him straight back to the good years. He was still smiling, bottom lip caught between his teeth, as he took up his own seat, angled into his own corner, one long leg folded up underneath him, the other stretched out to the floor.
"What?"
"I was just thinking how good it is to see you again. I'm glad I chose to go to the library today."
"Yeah, what were you doing there anyway?" Daniel sounded surprised at the idea of Jack O'Neill in a library. Jack's smile turned into a chuckle and Daniel looked abashed. "Uh, I didn't mean -- you didn't pick up any books."
"You distracted me. Doesn't matter. I can go back tomorrow. I meant to use the business database there, but it's nothing urgent."
"Business database? Okay, I'm intrigued. Tell me everything."
"'Everything' is a pretty tall order, Daniel." And one he wasn't yet sure would be a good idea. Although he really wasn't up for following in his own footsteps and saying nothing; not any more. He'd grown beyond that at least. But Daniel was replying to him again with another genuine smile.
"Okay then. Just give me the short version."
"Okay. Given the choice, I'd've been a pro hockey player. But that wouldn't have been a real smart move, given my history, or should I say, lack of history." Daniel nodded his understanding and agreement as Jack continued, "And the military was closed off to me, for obvious reasons. Besides, I'd been there, done that. Wasn't really up for doing it again, even if I could."
His eyes clouded as he remembered precisely why, skirting round the edges of the store of memories from his previous life. Daniel saw the shadow fall across them and attempted to steer the conversation back to safer ground.
"You still play though. I saw the stick in the corner."
"Only occasionally. These days, I coach. Junior college team, and they're doing okay."
"So what did you do instead?"
Another wide smile, a genuine smile that made Jack's eyes sparkle as he raised his glass in a mock toast. "I took the old guy's advice. Never thought I would at first, but I thought about it some and could see it made sense, so I did. Buckled down at school, no goofing off, got me a degree - a good one too, mechanical engineering - then a post grad in business studies."
"Yeah? Good for you! Then what?"
"Then I started my own company."
This was surprising, although Daniel couldn't have said precisely why. But when he thought about it some more, thought about the logistical training and the single-minded determination characteristic of the prototype Jack O'Neill, maybe it wasn't such a surprise after all. Engineering though...
"Engineering? Funny, I wouldn't have thought..." Daniel tailed off and gave an embarrassed half-chuckle. "Sorry, I can't see you as a grease monkey somehow."
Jack's laugh was warm and genuine. "Hell no! Engineering was a useful fallback and it comes in handy from time to time now but I missed flying too much. When I was - -" he caught himself smoothly and changed tack with a shrug and a small grimace of wry amusement, "When he was young, the Air Force was the quickest route to the skies. Flying was all he really wanted to do. In that, we were no different. Plus I could remember what it was like, having the freedom that flying brings, you know? So I took flying lessons and got my licence --"
Daniel started to laugh himself. "You took flying lessons? After all those hours in F-18s and the F302 you took lessons?"
"Yeah, yeah, I know." Jack's eyes were sparkling as he relished telling his story. He watched Daniel's face as his eyes crinkled up at the corners. He was finally relaxed and loose, lounging back on the couch, butt pushed forward on the seat so he could rest his head in the crook of the arm, mellowed by good food, wine and conversation. Yeah, this was Daniel at his best, handsome face alive and expressive, eyes glowing with enthusiasm and amusement. He'd never wanted him quite as much as he did right then.
"It was a pain in the ass having to keep my mouth shut at times, but I managed it somehow. Means to an end, you know? It was the only way to get my licence in this lifetime, so I just had to suck it up and go with it. I'll tell ya though, my instructor was sure as hell impressed with my 'natural aptitude'." Jack's voice intensified into a sarcastic drawl over his last two words and Daniel snorted with appreciative laughter. "But he was just a kid. You know the type - bouncy and bushy tailed, like a puppy. Even if I'd had the clearance, I wouldn't have had the heart to point out that I'd probably been flying combat missions before he was born.
"Anyway, like I said - means to an end. You're looking at the proud owner of Aske Air Freight - 'Need to move it? Aske for service'." Jack cocked his head to one side as he finished speaking with a quizzical lift of one eyebrow, mouth folding into a small, sly smile, and Daniel frowned, getting the feeling that he was waiting for something.
"Ask?"
"With an 'e'."
Daniel's brow slowly cleared. "Cute. The first man created by the Asgard."
"I knew you'd get it. Nobody else does." Jack's expression broadened into a conspiratorial grin, and it struck Daniel yet again how great it was that this Jack had come to terms so well with his circumstances. And how attractive it was. Although it was a little strange too: he had an ease and an openness about him that Daniel wasn't used to any more from the Jack O'Neill that he knew best, and that threw him almost as much as it captivated him.
"The 'e' shouldn't really be silent, you know."
Daniel's lips remained slightly pursed as he considered the inaccuracy in pronunciation and Jack smiled to himself at his typically disapproving expression as he defended it, "Yeah, well, poetic licence. I thought it was justified. Plus, you know, I couldn't resist flipping the bird at NID in a mild kind of a way."
Nodding, Daniel asked, "Did they get it?" His eyes were gleaming with humour again.
"What do you think?" The familiar shark grin was in place on Jack's face and Daniel laughed outright.
"Just guessing here - but not even if you clubbed them over the head with it. Way too subtle for them."
"And Doctor Jackson shoots and scores yet again."
"What, you think I got all those letters after my name just for showing up in class?"
"Nah, I never thought that." Jack was serious for a moment, eyes full of affection that warmed Daniel when he saw it, before he changed tack again. "It's only small right now of course, me and two other pilots, but it's going places."
"Quite literally."
"Yeah," Jack chuckled at the small pun and took another drink from the glass in his hand. "So that's you up to speed with my life, pretty much. What about yours? What have you been up to for the last few years?"
Daniel cocked his head to one side in a one-shouldered shrug. "Same old. I'm still with the SGC, as you no doubt realised the minute you met me in the library. I don't go off world any more though." He gave a self-deprecating grin. "I leave that to the youngsters. Besides," he pointed down towards his left leg.
"I noticed the limp," Jack said. "What happened?"
"Oh, you know. One megalomaniac snake too many," Daniel said lightly. "Long story short, the doctors saved the leg but couldn't make it good as new. So I was grounded."
Jack deliberately let that one slide. He knew how much Daniel would miss going off world, he'd lived that one himself. "So, what then? Head of Department?"
"Yep," Daniel nodded. "I head up a combined department. Xenoanth/Xenoarch and Linguistics." He laughed a little self-consciously. "It's a bit of a mouthful - I never did get around to thinking up a snappy department title."
"Oh, I dunno. It seems appropriate - XXL. That's quite a wide ranging brief you have there; extra, extra large seems to fit somehow."
Daniel snorted, overlooking Jack's small attempt at levity. "Wide ranging is a word and a half. And still no adequate budget, so no changes there either. The Pentagon still has its head up its collective ass when it comes to funding the social sciences section of the program. There's still never enough money, and never, ever enough time to do a thorough job with the knowledge we gain. Not unless it's strategic, or military, or --"
Jack chimed in and said, at exactly the same moment as Daniel, "A big honkin' space gun."
"Yeah," Daniel said with a rueful chuckle.
"Still rankles, huh?"
Daniel didn't reply, just gave him a look that Jack remembered well.
"Yeah, it still rankles," Jack repeated with a slow nod of his head.
Daniel shrugged. "I guess. You know how it is. Plus ça change..."
"Et plus c'est la même chose. I know. The Pentagon will never develop any kind of altruism and you'll never develop a truly military mindset. Which still makes your daily work frustrating."
"Oh, don't get me wrong. There's still a lot that I can do," Daniel said earnestly. "And on balance, I enjoy my job. It's just -- we could do so much more, you know?"
"No arguments from me. It was always like that and I guess it always will be. Different agendas. Neither completely right, neither completely wrong, just different."
There was a short, uncomfortable silence as both men contemplated the old argument, before they caught each other's eye and tacitly agreed to just let it drop.
"So, what about Carter? And Teal'c? Are they still with the SGC? Or is that classified?"
Daniel chuckled. "We've done nothing except talk classified information, strictly speaking, for most of the evening. Like I'm going to worry about that now?"
Jack grinned back at him. "I guess. So, how are they both?"
"Both well. Sam is 2IC of the SGC now. She goes off world occasionally, but there was a policy change there too and it's frowned on these days. She divides her time between admin and her lab, and she seems happy enough."
"Still no significant other?"
Daniel shook his head, his mouth suddenly tightening. "There was for a while, but he's not on the scene any more," he said shortly. "It didn't work out."
There seemed to be some back-story there, from the tone of Daniel's voice, but he didn't elaborate even though Jack waited a beat for him to start. So he contented himself with saying merely, "Pity."
"I thought so too. They seemed good together, but who can ever tell?" Daniel paused for a moment, then continued, "Teal'c went home - the old team really fell apart when that happened, it was never the same after that. He's fine though, or was the last time I heard, about three months ago. I don't think Jaffa politics will ever be an easy option."
At Jack's raised eyebrow, Daniel amplified, "The Jaffa declared themselves free a long time ago, but the factions are still arguing about exactly what freedom means, even after all this time. You know what Jaffa are like when it comes to, uh, philosophical differences. Let's just say it keeps Teal'c on his toes. Though he has Bra'tac to run interference for him, and vice versa of course."
Jack's face lit up. "Bra'tac, the old son of a gun. He's still going strong? He must be what, about a hundred and fifty now? A hundred and fifty two?"
Daniel nodded. "About that, yeah." Daniel raised his eyes to the ceiling as he did the math. "Actually, a hundred and fifty five. He's getting a little less robust now physically, though it'd be a brave man that suggested that to him. Apart from that, he's as... vigorous as ever."
"Yeah. That's a word and a half. When I think 'Bra'tac', I definitely think 'vigorous'. I wouldn't mind meeting him again some day." Jack smiled fondly.
There was another short pause.
"And the old guy? What's he up to these days?"
Jack asked the question with studied casualness, not looking up but twirling the stem of the wine glass between finger and thumb while he stared into the depths of his wine. His tone set Daniel's internal alarm bells jangling, although he couldn't have said precisely why. He answered, lightly enough he hoped, "I haven't seen the Major General for quite some time. Last I heard he was doing okay though."
"Major General is it now?" Jack gave a low, appreciative whistle. "Fast track in the end, huh? Who'd 'a thought it after all those years stuck as a Colonel?"
"I suppose so." Daniel's voice was as colourless as he could make it. "He was promoted to General and ran the SGC when General Hammond left, then again when he went to fly a desk in Washington. That didn't altogether work out and he took over starting up the Gamma Site. He hasn't been on world for years, except for flying visits to the Pentagon. When he comes to Earth, we never have time to meet up - too many policy meetings with the brass."
Jack felt a curious mixture of emotions. He hadn't missed the bitter little twist to Daniel's lips at the end of this statement, nor the slightly wistful tone of his voice, and it yet again stirred all the old protective urges that this man had always inspired in him. But mixed in with them was sadness for his alter ego, which he soon dismissed as irritation seeped in and turned into downright anger. But then the anger bled away in the face of the first faint stirrings of hope.
"Gamma site?"
Daniel nodded slowly. "The Beta site was located and destroyed by Anubis, about a year after you --" He stopped dead and flushed a little. "I'm sorry, that was crass of me."
Jack smiled. "It's okay. I came to terms with it long ago. It took me a while to realise it, but I reckon I got the best end of the deal there after all, in most respects anyway. Not all, but most. Yeah, sure, the whole 'old guy in a young skin' thing was a little odd, at least to start with, but overall? It's worked out okay."
Daniel gestured around the apartment. "I can see that. It looks like you're doing all right for yourself."
Jack smiled again and tipped his head to one side. "That wasn't quite what I meant, but never mind."
"So what did you mean?" At Jack's questioning look, Daniel expanded, "Seriously. I'm interested."
Jack gave a fleeting grimace, holding Daniel's eyes for a moment before staring down into the depths of his glass again with pursed lips. He waited a beat or two before answering, waited so long that Daniel was beginning to wonder if he was going to answer at all. Then just when Daniel was casting around for some new topic, any topic to lift the sudden tension he was feeling between them, he replied, a sober expression on his face.
"It's a strange experience, having to remould a life into something different. It's a great opportunity too, to be able to change the things that you're not happy with."
"You didn't seem to think that to start with," Daniel observed.
Jack said slowly, "No... No, I didn't. I was too concerned with the smaller picture then, I think. Too resentful of what I was losing to consider or appreciate what I was gaining. I've worked it out since then. Found a balance. Made some changes. Done some things a little differently. Done some things a lot better, I hope, but hey," he shrugged, "who can say that for sure?"
Daniel smiled gently. "No one, I guess. So what would you say you've done a lot better? So far?"
Jack looked at Daniel, quietly assessing him. He sensed there were feelings there for the other him, if he was reading Daniel correctly. So maybe now was the time to take a chance. Or maybe he'd find it too fucked up or something, that he was willing to give what the old guy hadn't, or couldn't. That'd always been the trouble with Daniel, his reactions never came as standard. He had his own unique way of looking at things, and had never been totally predictable. He was even less so now, with all the extra water that had passed under the bridge.
Meantime, Daniel had noticed him chewing the inside of his lip, and his attention had sharpened while he was waiting for a reply. Jack mentally crossed his fingers and made his decision.
He said carefully, looking Daniel straight in the eye to gauge his reaction, "Well for one thing, I'm out. Have been since college. No more hiding, and that's a relief."
"Out?" Daniel's face was a study in perplexity. "Out, as in...?"
"Yep. Out. As in," Jack supplied helpfully.
Daniel's reaction wasn't quite what Jack expected. "Out," he repeated thoughtfully. And a split second later, Jack saw a spark of anger leap in his eyes before they dropped to his own glass. Hell no, that wasn't the reaction he'd been hoping for at all.
And then Daniel surprised him again. He started to chuckle softly as he sat swirling the wine gently round in his glass with great concentration. It was a bitter little sound, not much humour in it.
"What?"
"What? Oh, I'm sorry." Daniel looked up and took in the expression on Jack's face and immediately sobered up. "I wasn't laughing at you."
"What then?"
"At myself, I guess. At my life so far. And it's not even close to being funny, so don't ask, because I really don't understand it myself." Daniel drained his glass and put it down on the coffee table with a loud click. And then, with a sudden change of direction, tightened his lips and said, "So. The Major General's in the closet then?" He shook his head. "And people think the Universe has no sense of humour."
So there it was. All of his questions were now answered, for better or worse. The old guy had never said a thing. And probably never would now, he'd figure the chance had been missed for good. Ever the pragmatist, he'd never back track. And Daniel was hurting about it. "Damn," Jack muttered. "Daniel, I'm..."
Daniel cut across him, talking fast and a little more loudly than was strictly necessary, not looking at him. "I'm sorry. I really wasn't laughing at you." A small, apologetic grin flitted across his face. "You know, I think I'm getting a little punch drunk here. Chalk it up to tiredness? I've been up since stupid o'clock this morning. I should really get back to the hotel and get some sleep. I've got a busy schedule in the morning."
"Daniel --" Jack half lifted a hand in an attempt to hold him back, but he was already on his feet, taking an exaggerated look at his wristwatch.
"I guess I'll catch a cab easy enough outside? It's not that late."
Jack could still recognise tactical error when it was staring him in the face and had never lost his appreciation of the value of falling back to regroup. He leaned forward and lifted his cell from the coffee table. "If you hold on, I'll call one for you."
Daniel gave him a quick smile as he shrugged into his jacket and replied in a determinedly normal tone of voice. "Thanks, but I'll get one myself. I think some fresh air might do me a bit of good. Get rid of that punchy, muzzy feeling, you know?"
His eyes met Jack's for a brief instant - and Jack realised with a slight shock that his assessment had been wrong. Daniel wasn't hurting - he was furious and doing his best to swallow it down. His face wore a slight smile but his eyes were flint. Always a dangerous look on Daniel, he recalled: it usually meant he was going to come out swinging, either literally or metaphorically. And right now it was a signal that he should give in gracefully, before he totally blew it. Because even though Daniel was angry, he wasn't altogether sure that he was angry with him. Not yet anyway.
"Well okay, if you're sure." Best to keep their goodbyes as normal as possible, they both instinctively knew it. More civilised that way.
"I'm sure. And thanks. It's been good. Maybe we'll get the chance to do this again some time."
Jack rose to his feet as Daniel turned for the door. That last comment hadn't sounded at all encouraging. Worse, it had sounded dismissive.
"Tomorrow maybe? I'll call you; see how you're getting on with your research. See if you're going to be here longer than a few hours. We could maybe fit in that sight-seeing."
Daniel nodded slightly, responding automatically to the slight rise in Jack's voice. "We'll see. I'm at the Allerton. You know it?"
"On North Michigan?" Jack nodded his head and pulled a face in acknowledgement. "Nice."
"It's okay. Somewhere to lay my head." Another small smile, a mere twist of the lips, that didn't reach Daniel's eyes. "So, uh -- thanks again. The meal was great." A quick, awkward handshake, accompanied by a sharp, chilly glance from under lowered brows, and Jack mechanically opened the door and saw Daniel out.
"Night, Daniel," he said to a stiff, retreating back, watching for long moments before he closed the door and shot the bolts, turning to lean against it and drop his head back against the wood with a huge exhalation of breath.
Okay, maybe that hadn't gone so well.
*
Daniel reached the street and stood for a few moments, hunching his shoulders against the slight chill of the intermittent breeze that was raising small dust devils where it swirled into the lee of the buildings. Yeah, the Windy City, sure enough, he thought sourly. Its nickname wasn't misplaced. He turned up his collar and shoved his hands in his pockets as he looked up and down the quiet street then turned and started to walk, keeping one eye open for a cab.
He heard one coming up behind him and turned, ready to hail it. No joy there, the light was out and he could make out the passenger sitting in the back seat. No actually, a couple sitting so closely entwined that it was difficult to make out that one was in fact two until the cab swooshed past under the street light. Huh, and there's a metaphor for my life right there. Yeah, that works on so many levels, he thought bitterly then hunched his shoulders in self-disgust. That had been pathetic.
In his pockets, his hands balled into fists. Wasted time, missed opportunities: both of them made him angry. Fourteen fucking years wasted, god knew how many opportunities passed up. Shit. And all that time, Jack cowering in the closet. Fuck. That made him angriest of all. His mouth tightened into a thin, resentful line and he kicked moodily at a soda can that was lying on the sidewalk, watching with grim satisfaction as it bounced off at a clattering tangent, spewing the remains of its contents in a messy arc as it went.
And yet -- and yet. The noise and the motion released something inside him and his anger ebbed slightly; he could begin to see beyond it. It wasn't so clear cut as that, maybe, after all. Years of knowing Jack, of knowing exactly how his mind worked, hadn't been entirely wasted. He was above all an honourable man: duty, conscience, a passionate belief in freedom, his unshakeable conviction of his place in securing it, were all important to him. Doubly so when he'd sworn an oath. It didn't matter how often he bent the rules; the underlying principles were bedrock. They were what made Jack, Jack.
But these uncompromising values were grafted onto his basic nature, the warm, gregarious, essentially loving man that he took great pains to conceal from anyone that wasn't close to him. It had to have been a hard road for him to take, to bury his nature and subordinate it to his career.
Huh. He'd thought, until today, that he was over that instinctive reaction to defend the Major General, the pattern that had been set all those years ago on Abydos and sealed since then with a staff blast or several. Apparently not. And wasn't that just a blast too?
It was all speculation. He didn't know for sure and probably never would. But it was always important to him, to know. And now, he needed to know whether he'd been an idiot all those years when he'd wished and hoped, or whether it was Jack who'd been the fool. Because he would have waited, if Jack had asked: he wouldn't have relished it, but he would have understood. Damn it all, he'd pretty well done exactly that even though Jack had never asked. He'd never gone without, but he'd never given anything more than an enjoyable fuck.
He knew better than to think that he and his Jack could turn back the clock. No one could do that. And after all this time, even their friendship had burned out at its core, reduced to being civil to each other on the very rare occasions they met. But he needed something.
He needed closure. He needed a firm line drawn in the ledger, underscored by a credible explanation. One, he realised, that he would never get from the emotionally evasive Major General.
But this other Jack - this one was Jack as he should have been, as he might have been were it not for the damn military and their idiot rules, and the Goa'uld and the war with Anubis that had held Jack to those rules. All the shit that had gone down in the older Jack's life and no breathing space to get it all into some kind of perspective; all the stuff that had closed him down and locked him up tight.
And he did have a unique handle on what made his predecessor tick. When in doubt, go back to the primary sources when you can. Maybe this Jack would give him a straight answer.
The complete inappropriateness of his choice of phrase tickled some grim sense of irony inside him and his lips stretched in a bleak travesty of a smile as he made his decision and turned back the way he'd come.
*
It was a slightly different matter when Daniel stood facing the door to Jack's apartment again, hand poised to knock. He stood for a moment, chewing on his lip as he pondered the wisdom of what he was about to do, then squared his shoulders and knocked anyway. The time had come for him to take care of himself.
He started talking as soon as the door started its inward swing. "Jack, I uh--"
He paused as he took in the sight in front of him. Jack stood in front of him, barefoot, shirt open and the edges of the material parting to reveal a broad stripe of attractively hairy muscle.
Jack's face creased into a smile and he threw the door wide, gesturing him inside with a wave of his arm. The shirt swung wide with the movement, revealing a flat, dark brown nipple, leaving Daniel stunned by a lurching jolt of lust deep in his belly. He flashed on it hardening under his fingers before he recovered himself and swallowed.
"You forgot your books. I was going to drop them by the hotel in the morning."
"Books?" Daniel was momentarily thrown, creased brow reflecting his confusion. "Uh yeah. I guess I did." He moistened his lips, trying to clear his thoughts.
Jack's eyebrows were on the rise, his head cocked to one side. His smile faded slightly as he waited for Daniel to carry on, gaze flicking from Daniel's mouth to his eyes, where they caught and held. For a split second his eyes looked puzzled before their expression changed and Daniel watched the pupils dilate as arousal crackled out of nowhere. A slick of need tingled over his own skin as his pulse quickened and his dick jerked in his pants.
Instinctively, his eyes dropped, lingering on the thick ridge of Jack's cock, already growing hard and obvious in the confines of his jeans as he turned and closed the open door. He didn't stop to think but moved in close, so close that they nearly bumped noses when Jack turned back, staring at him for a long slow moment before he swooped in and claimed Jack's mouth.
For a moment he thought Jack wouldn't respond. The lips under his were slack and immobile. But only for a moment: Jack's tongue was surprisingly thick and agile when it woke up, winding and gliding against his, quicksilver motion impossible to predict, flowing into his mouth and then withdrawing, inviting Daniel in. His hands were everywhere as he scrabbled Daniel's shirt out of his waistband and rucked it and his jacket high up his back in an untidy mess. Daniel felt a thumb sweeping against his nipple, felt it from his chest down to the tip of his cock; felt blunt nails scratching over the small of his back; felt the prickle of spit-soaked skin drying around his mouth when they finally parted, breathing heavily.
His own hands were under Jack's shirt, skimming over his ribs, kneading the muscles in his back. They skimmed over the patch of hair where Jack's spine disappeared under his waistband, back up to the warm silk of his shoulders. Each touch, each different texture was a direct charge to the pool of heavy pleasure growing low in his gut.
Jack pulled in a shuddering gulp of air and held Daniel tight, burying his head in the crook of his neck for a moment. Pulling back and staring avidly at him, his expression dissolved into a brilliant smile that warmed Daniel like a thousand suns.
"You came back. I thought I'd blown it - again. I'm glad I didn't." Jack leaned his forehead briefly against Daniel's, then lifted his head and added with a glint of sly mischief, "I'd rather blow you."
Daniel laughed as he pushed away and held Jack's gaze. He undid his pants and said simply, "So what's stopping you? Not me, that's for sure."
Jack's eyes dropped to Daniel's open fly, fixing on the bulge of his cock where it was tenting its fabric confines. His tongue snaked out over his lips before he raised his eyes again. The flare of desire that Daniel saw in them made a wave of heat course over his skin. He wondered for a wild moment if Jack would just drop to his knees right here and now, balls tightening at thoughts of coming hard and fast in Jack's mouth for the first round, the image of his dick sliding between those lips.
"Not here though. C'mon." Jack tugged at his arm to get him moving and led the way to the bedroom, shrugging out of his shirt as he went.
He balled it up and flung it one-handed in the general direction of the laundry hamper in the corner, popping the button of his jeans with the other hand, and turned to watch Daniel coming through the door behind him, minus his jacket and glasses and hauling his shirt up and off by the hem, still buttoned.
His eyes raked Daniel up and down, hot and hungry, watching the play of muscles in his stomach and bunched shoulders. Only marginal signs of softening there in the slight swell of belly: Daniel was keeping in shape. He followed the fine trail of hair that started around his navel, down to his open fly and his cock, freed now, veined and thick, rearing from a dark riot of pubic hair. It bobbed gently as Daniel moved, beckoning him, beautiful, hard and ready for him.
He watched Daniel's face as his head popped out of his shirt and his breath hitched. The brilliant blue of his eyes was almost swallowed by the black pupils and he was breathing hard, a single bead of sweat glistening in the furrow of his upper lip. Their eyes locked as Daniel toed out of his shoes and they both stripped off their pants and shorts, and stayed locked as Daniel advanced towards him. And god, he would swear Daniel was growling. He could hear it at the edge of his hearing, a low, thrumming rumble, sound without noise. When Daniel wound one hand through the hair at the back of his head and pulled back hard, stretching his neck in a taut curve and latching onto the pulse point at the base of his throat, he was sure of it. Daniel's chest vibrated against his and he felt an increased charge of desire mixed with simple pride that he could turn him on like that.
Warm fingers curled round his cock and he shook as the realisation hit him - this was Daniel. Daniel biting his neck and shoulders, licking a broad stripe up his throat and finding his mouth again, hand still clenched in his hair. Daniel working his cock so exactly right as if he'd been doing it for years, not seconds, hand sliding down his back to grip and knead his ass. He wormed his hand between them and took hold of Daniel's cock, groaning "oh yeah," softly against the mobile lips nibbling at his as he lifted into his hand, breathing hard as his own grip adjusted around smooth, hot satin.
Daniel sagged against him briefly and grunted quietly before his knees locked again. Jack nudged him with one shoulder and he got the message. One more fierce, passionate kiss, a kiss that turned Jack's knees to jelly and made his gut lurch, and he turned to lie spread out over the bed.
Daniel felt the shock of Jack's weight settling on him skin to skin with every square inch of his body. For a moment he lay passive, revelling in the heat and weight holding him down flat, the hard cock digging into his thigh, the velvety pressure against his cock where it lay trapped between them, before he grasped Jack's shoulders and urged him downwards. He felt Jack smiling against his skin as he followed his direction and slithered leisurely down his body, swirling his tongue against a nipple, delicately tracing the lines of pecs and abs with his lips, nipping the skin over one hip, sucking hard enough to bruise on the inside of one thigh.
Soft touches, hard bites, blood pounding through his veins, all welded into a white blur of sensation that left him gasping and twisting the sheets into knots with his fists. Finally, the roughness of slight stubble scratching his ass, the softness and slickness of Jack's tongue as it flickered around his asshole, the pressure of one warm hand firmly cupping his balls, exploring them with long, sensitive fingers.
Jack rimmed him thoroughly, taking his time to savour the tastes of musk and salt, the muted murmurs of encouragement coming from above him, the sensation of Daniel opening for him as his tongue worked back and forth, round and in, until one of Daniel's heels dug into his ass and urged him upwards. He slipped one finger in and mouthed his way up to Daniel's cock as he searched for his gland, smiling as he felt him stiffen and shudder underneath him and heard the sighed "yes", looking up to watch his stomach muscles tensing and flexing. He licked, flat-tongued, up the shaft and lipped at the crown, getting his first taste of pre-come, a salt-sweet burst on his tongue, as one of Daniel's hands tangled in his hair again, clutching the back of his skull.
Jack lifted his head at that, and smiled into Daniel's eyes, then dipped it again as the hand tightened and coaxed him back down to finally take Daniel's cock fully into his mouth. The hand in his hair fell away and Daniel went rigid as he strained to subdue his impulse to thrust. He didn't completely succeed, but Jack rode it easily, fitting the motion of his head to the bucking of Daniel's hips as his tongue mapped the contours of his cock.
He sensed that Daniel was close and backed off with a hard squeeze to the base of his cock, and was rewarded with a low rasp of frustration coming from way back in Daniel's throat.
"Finish me." Daniel's voice was a ragged gasp.
Jack shook his head. "I don't want us to come until I'm inside you. Okay?"
Daniel nodded and replaced Jack's hand on his cock with his own. "Hurry up. I'm close."
Daniel watched him greedily as he slicked himself up, and closed his eyes and gasped, slack-jawed and sweating and still gripping the base of his cock, as Jack prepped him. Finally he drew back his knees and let Jack in.
Heat and pressure almost too much to bear: Jack closed his eyes and gulped air as he fought to maintain his control. When he felt steadier, he opened his eyes and looked down, catching his breath with fascinated desire. He'd never in his life seen Daniel look so open to anyone or anything. Daniel's self-containment was shattered and all that was left was sensation. The urge to make this last for him finally beat out the urge to come, balancing Jack on the thin edge between pleasure and frustration.
Jack stroked into him with a steady rhythm, slow and easy, losing himself completely, all five senses engaged. He felt Daniel's heat gripping his cock and his hands skimming his ribs; he heard the quiet huffs of sound his actions caused. He could taste Daniel on his tongue and smell the scents of fresh sweat and sex. When he finally opened his eyes and looked down, he marvelled at the sight: Daniel, eyes drowned in pleasure of his making, hair damp with sweat, back arching off the bed with every stroke as he white-knuckled the sheets. He leaned in for a kiss, feeling a sharp jolt of exultant pride. He'd done this to Daniel, for Daniel - him, not the old guy. Him.
Daniel shifted under him and Jack understood. He pulled him in close, hauling his legs up and onto his shoulders, so that Daniel could start to move, really move. He upped the pace until Jack was pounding into him, grinding hard with his hips to meet every stroke, sweating and straining, damp hair plastered to his head, a small, fierce smile on his face.
Jack's world narrowed down to a pinpoint as his balls drew up tight. He was dimly aware that he was snarling as Daniel cried out but he wasn't listening. He was watching as Daniel came, thick stripes of come splattering over his stomach as he thrust into him, hard. And then there was only feeling, as his balls emptied and he finally collapsed in a sweating heap into Daniel's arms.
*
He liked Daniel this way, Jack decided - drowsy and warm in the ruins of his once crisply laundered bed (some habits were impossible to shed), skin glistening where the lamplight gilded its contours as the sweat cooled on his body, looking thoroughly well-fucked. The years really dropped away from him when he looked like this. He looked incredibly boyish for a fifty year old, his face relaxed and open, what lines there were smoothed out by his explosive release. Much, much younger than he'd looked at the same age, that was for sure.
Yeah, he could stand to see this more than once in this lifetime, and to know that he was the cause. He propped himself up on one arm and settled down to look, then touch. Because finally he was allowed to.
He rested his hand on Daniel's chest, fingers splayed, and stroked lightly, concentrating on the drag of slightly sticky skin against the pads of his fingers, memorising the solid contours of muscle and bone, content to rest in the moment if he could.
But he had the strangest feeling that the old guy was surfacing in his head, fighting this and fighting it hard. Fighting the new, improved him in the way he hadn't done for years, threatening to fuck this new beginning up, just as he'd fucked up the old one.
Wasn't gonna happen, he thought with a small frown and a determined tightening of his lips. He had nothing to do with the Major General now, nothing at all. This was about him and Daniel, here and now, not past history. And besides, he thought with a characteristic surge of triumphant one-upmanship, this was an area where he had all the advantages. He knew exactly how to love a man and that gave him the inside track.
He forced the old guy in his head to finally retreat with his tail between his legs just as he became aware that Daniel was watching him, cataloguing the play of expressions over his face with a practiced eye.
"The same, but not the same," Daniel murmured, almost to himself. Jack stared at him, trying to divine his meaning from his look, but Daniel's expression was neutral. He couldn't tell what Daniel meant, whether it was a good thing or a bad, and he was suddenly fearful, heart hammering in his chest. So Jack, being Jack in all the ways that really mattered, forced his face into an expression of neutrality and offered Daniel a graceful 'out'.
"He loved you, you know. Possibly still does, I dunno. He just never quite got his head out of his ass to tell you."
With a gentle smile, Daniel replied, "Yeah. I really didn't know before tonight but I've kinda guessed as much. You're him in all the essentials after all, and people just don't change that much. I don't think. But why bring that up now?"
"Just - I don't want you to settle. I don't want this - you know, if there is a 'this' here," Jack sketched a vague circle in the space between them as Daniel raised one quizzical eyebrow, "to be second best, you know?" He gave a small, rueful grin and ran a hand through his hair in an achingly familiar gesture, leaving it tufted up and messy. "You know me - I never did like it when I wasn't top dog. Another of those things that's never changed, deep down."
Daniel watched Jack carefully as he was speaking. His face was almost smiling, mocking himself, but his eyes were anxious and his body was very, very still. Though when it came right down to it, it was remarkably simple; there was only one possible answer he could give. He lifted his hand to cup the back of Jack's neck, then ran his palm lightly down over the bunched muscles of his arm, idly watching the flesh twitch under his touch before looking back into his eyes.
"Not second best, no," he said gravely. "A second chance. And that's a different thing entirely."
*
Epilogue
Major General Jack O'Neill (USAF, retired) paused as his hand reached into his pocket for his cell. He thought for a moment then continued anyway and punched in the number he'd pulled from the personnel files just before he'd finally left the mountain.
"O'Neill."
Yeah, that figured. But it made him hesitate.
"Who's this?"
"O'Neill here." Silence on the other end of the line. Then,
"What do you want?"
It was brusque, suspicious, not friendly. Okay, so he hadn't expected the fatted calf exactly. He could deal.
"Don't even ask if you can speak to Daniel."
"I wasn't going to." A snort of harsh laughter.
"Okay. I might have known that already. So what do you want?"
Good question. He closed his eyes briefly and thought about it. What did he want? Affirmation, reassurance, what? He wasn't sure he could answer that -- no wait, he could. Intel was what he needed.
"Is he happy?" A prolonged silence before the reply came down the line in a soft voice. A tender voice, he thought, a bitter stab of regret for might have beens twisting somewhere deep inside, surprisingly painful even after all this time. He ruthlessly stamped it down with the ease of long practice.
"Yeah, I think so. I'm trying my best to make it happen."
"Good," he said gruffly, with a sharp nod of satisfaction, "You won't hear from me again." And closed up his phone.
END
