"No, sir, it's not contagious."

The briefing room was silent for a moment. Dr. Frasier stood in the light of the projector, where on the wall an enormous, magnified photo of a drop of Colonel O'Neill's blood was currently on display. She had slides of the other three members of SG-1 as well, flipping through them as she spoke.

Before her and the General, SG1 sat somewhat...uncomfortably. Or at least, half of it was. Colonel O'Neill and Daniel, sitting across from one another as usual, were busily annoying one another as usual, and having entire conversations with their eyes. Nothing out of the ordinary for the two men, in fact. What had Janet worried was the way Sam and Teal'c were acting. Janet had known Teal'c for three long years, and had seen him in every state of dress, and lack thereof. She knew him as well as any doctor and friend knew their patient, and the almost.... well, Janet wouldn't call it "self satisfied smirk" to anyone but her priest, but if she had to testify under oath, she'd say that's exactly how Teal'c was looking. Self satisfied. And the very slight curve of his lips was enough to raise some bells in Janet's head.

That, and the fact that Sam couldn't sit still. She was shifting, this way and that, her face permanently red tinged. The four members of SG1 had come in just ten minutes before, of course, but in that time Sam had gotten up four times. Janet wasn't sure she wanted to know why, but as her doctor, she'd *have* to find out, and that was more mortifying than she cared to think about.

"We found the traces in your blood, which manifested about eight hours after you left the SGC. I'm not exactly sure what it is exactly, but if I were to guess, I'd say that what I was looking at were trace amounts of Prozac in your blood."

Teal'c was following Samantha with his eyes, and with every shift, or movement out of her chair, the corners of Teal's mouth rose incrementally more.

"Figures," Jack grunted, leaning back in his chair. "Daniel, aren't you always the one threatening to drug the base water supply?" Then he sat forward. "So... they gave us happy pills?"

Janet inclined her head, cutting off the glare Daniel had sent Colonel O'Neill's way. "Essentially, yes. I'm not sure what kind of influence it has had on your behaviors, but I suggest a twenty four hour quarantine. I will even agree to them staying on base for a minimum of one day and night, at least."

General Hammond nodded. He'd been watching the four members of his elite group, and now more than ever they were acting...odd. Off. Not quite themselves. Well, aside from Colonel O'Neill and Dr. Jackson, that was. Teal'c and Major Carter... well. "Agreed. You're on a week stand down until we get this nipped in the bud."

Not that Daniel had anywhere to go anyway. Besides, if they were drugged, what they'd done was moot anyway.

Okay, now it wasn't. "General Hammond, I think whatever it was that happened to us on P42-909 was influenced by what King Hammurabi said. He asked us to follow our hearts' desire. At the time I found it odd that I wanted to comply with his wishes, but now..."

"Now your head has cleared a bit," Janet said, and smiled. A skosh too brightly. "I'd like to do complete medical examinations of all of you, just to be on the safe side. Sam? Why don't we begin with you first."

"Indeed," Teal'c said, speaking up surprisingly quickly. "I will go with you, Doctor Frasier, and you will be able to examine the both of us."

Sam gave a little cough, and glared at Teal'c before turning a pleading gaze on Janet. "Please. I'll... follow you down." She winced slightly, rising from the chair, and nodded at the others still at the table. "Sirs." She... didn't quite hobble, but it was close. "Janet." Elbow to her ribs. "Vicodin. Now."

Jack glared at Daniel. "Odd that you wanted to comply to his wishes?" His repetition had a sharp edge to it as he elevated his brow. "Just what are you talking about?"

"Ahh... no, Teal'c. Alone. I'll call you when I'm ready for you," Janet said, and whisked out, tiny heels clicking.

If they'd only been in front of anyone but General Hammond. "Only that I actually followed your orders," Daniel said, smirked, and left, after Sam and Janet.

Jack glared after him. "General? Permission to kill that little bastard."

General Hammond rose and barely kept from glaring. Those were his boys. "Permission denied. Get on down to Quarantine, Colonel, and I don't want to hear about you roaming up and down the hallways like last time, am I understood?"

"Then can I hurt him just a little?" Jack got up from the table, standing beside Teal'c, who was looking out the briefing room door after Sam, Janet, and Daniel like he was ready to break something.

"Colonel," General Hammond growled a little, and swept off to his office.

Jack gave a growl of his own and looked over at Teal'c. "Need an escort?"

Teal'c just glared. "I do not. I will report to the infirmary, however."

"Knock yourself out." Jack started making a list of things in his head, and ambled towards his office, determined to pick up yo-yos and chocolate bars.

- = -

Daniel had immense amounts of work to do. Tons. He had a backlog that reached from here to Nebraska without enough anthropologists to help pick up the slack, because he couldn't hire any more of them without there being an actual *reason* for it outside of desperately needing the help. What did that mean? That meant that Daniel did the translation work, as head of his department. One of exactly three linguists in the entire department, and as he was -- without exception -- the most knowledgeable of the three of them -- he got the difficult cases. The cases that could take entire months out of his life deciphering.

He needed a team of linguists. A platoon of them. An *army* of them, to keep up.

He'd taken one look at his back log, felt like crying, and had taken the first fifteen to start with. He'd spread himself out at the big table in the quarantine room, books propped everywhere, coffee and coffee pot within reaching distance, and a pile of candy bars which were proving to be his dinner sat unopened on the desk beside his mug.

Daniel had already gotten his physical. Not only had Janet figured out just what he'd been doing last night, but after Jack, she had to be certain they were having sex. Just like she was certain Sam had been screwed to an inch of her life, and how embarrassing was that? Daniel couldn't help blushing a little at the thought.

Aaaand his thoughts were drifting. That could only mean one thing.

Daniel stood, uncramping long cramped legs, and stumbled towards the coffee pot for his life's sustenance.

Jack took that moment to come in from the doorway, where he'd been leaning, unnoticed, for the last twenty minutes. "You know, if you stack those a little higher, you might actually be able to hide behind them," he said casually, plunking in Daniel's chair and putting his feet up on the table.

"Oh, don't fuck with me, Jack. I'm tired, frustrated, cranky, and liable to drop scalding hot coffee on your head. And put your legs down before you knock something over," Daniel snipped, eyes closed as he rubbed his aching head.

"Don't fuck with you? That's something interesting, considering that's all you wanted to do last night." Jack didn't bother to budge in the least.

Daniel wanted so badly to bean him. Instead, he shoved Jack's legs off his desk and made the universal, 'get up' jerk of his thumb.

Jack didn't move. He reached out and took Daniel's coffee cup, set it to the side, and put his feet back up on Daniel's desk.

Oh, you "Ass. Get up. I'm in the middle of…" Something vitally important.

"Work that's been sitting there for the better part of six months?" Jack asked, leaning forward to pick up a book and blow a layer of dust off the spine before putting it back on the stack.

"Yes. Which...is why I should get to it. I know you're bored -- go bother Sam, okay? I know General Hammond said we don't have to sit in quarantine, but its the only quiet place I've found in hours to work."

"Sam is currently busy with a visitor of her own," Jack said, giving his best innocent smile to Daniel.

Daniel rubbed one eye under his glasses, knocking them up on his forehead as he rubbed. "Okay, Jack, look. I need to work now. You... go do whatever it was you were doing."

"Whatever it was I was doing was watching you for the last half hour without you even noticing I was there," Jack said, leaning forward and picking up one of Daniel's candy bars. "Oooh. Hershey!"

Jack had planted his substantial rear in Daniel's seat, and there would be no way he was going to move now without having him physically removed, which was impossible because all the SF's were scared of him.

Damn.

Daniel sighed and slid into the chair beside his own, the cold plastic biting into him through his uniform as he tugged his work back towards him.

Jack reached out, picked up the dusty books, and put them on the other side of the table, as far away as he could reach.

"Jack, give me back my books."

"No." He popped a bite of the chocolate into his mouth. "Mmm. Chocolate. Want?" He held the half-open wrapper out to Daniel in offering.

Daniel glared and took a small piece. He sat back, biting into it and chewing slowly as he rested his back and held his warm mug against his thigh.

"See? Chocolate *good.* Work *bad.*" He snickered, and reached into his pocket, pulling out one of his own stashed candy bars. "Here. I'll trade you. Gimmie another Hershey and you can have the Take 5."

"Deal. But only if you share the pie next time," Daniel said, eyeing Jack blearily with a small smile on his face. He relaxed, minutely, and glanced over Jack's head at the camera in the corner, with its slowly blinking red light.

He really hoped the SF's couldn't lip read.

"Jack, Janet knows."

"You got it. I'll go down to the commissary in a minute and bring back a half to share. I think they've got pecan, but no pumpkin." He leaned back in his chair, and tapped his feet together on the desk. "Yeah. And?"

He figured Jack would be okay with it. "Pecan. And nothing. I just thought you should know that she... knows. If the big hickey on the back of my hip -- thanks, Jack -- wasn't evidence, then the fact that my ass is on fire kind of clued her in. She gave me a tube of KY. I don't know whether to be insulted or embarrassed."

"Thankful, actually. Oooh... hey, is it the kind that warms up? I've been seeing that on TV, and I've really been wanting to try it!"

Daniel stared at him. Then blinked, went into his pocket, and making sure he didn't put it in view of the camera, read the label. "KY personal lubricant. Not the kind that warms up, but it's got numbing pain killers in it. Apparently, lotion isn't a good lube."

Jack pouted. "I'll ask her for the kind that warms up. She likes me. She'll let me have it." He grinned. "Hey, it works for what I have to do with it. And you weren't complaining either, until after the fact." He held out his hand, and wiggled his fingers. "Tags. Need 'em back, by the way. But don't worry; I'll get a set for you."

"Not here, Jack. We're under observation. In the locker room tonight, oka--" He blinked, stopped, and rechecked his watch. God. "it's already seven?" He sighed. No wonder he was so exhausted.

"Yes, it's already seven, and Daniel? Considering they're watching Teal'c giving Carter some kind of special Jaffa massage thing to apologize for whatever the hell they did last night--complete with candles, might I add, which isn't that bad an idea--I don't think they'd be shocked by anything they'd see us doing."

"After all, the aliens made us do it right?" Daniel asked, and shook his head. "I'm going to go get in a shower and a bite to eat."

"Is that what you think?" Jack waved a hand at the books. "That the reason for all this?"

"Of course I do. It's logical, it fits. Just because it...opened a few doors and a few eyes on the way doesn't mean that the aliens had any less impact on our actions than we did, if that makes sense."

"No, but you rarely do. I just trust that you know what you're talking about," Jack admitted.

Daniel's lips twitched a little, a ghost of a smile there and gone again. "I do know what I'm talking about, Jack. If the aliens hadn't, once again might I add, interfered, we'd have never ended up in bed together. It's just one of those crazy things we file under 'classified' and leave it at that." Calmly. "Except, of course, the sex, you understand."

Jack just raised an eyebrow, and cursed Teal'c for giving him the habit, although it *was* expressive when he didn't have the words. Only this time he did, quite a few of them, but he didn't say them. Just... "No, I don't understand. Because really, Daniel, it wasn't eight hours from the time we left the base until we got to Wong's, unless you've got a time acceleration device that I didn't know about, and you were propositioning me and I was agreeing a long damn time before we were under the influence."

Yes, Janet *had* said that it hadn't manifested until eight hours after they got back, but Daniel already had an answer for that.

"By the time we left the base we'd been Earthside for four and a half hours, Jack. The drive to Wong's was another hour in the snow, and we were arguing -- it's not unheard of for drugs to work faster when the heart is going faster. We were already under the influence of...whatever it was that King Hammurabi gave us on P42-909, Jack." Daniel glanced up at him -- once at the door, then at the camera, then to Jack. He kept his voice pitched *very* low, for only the both of them. "When I propositioned you I was already drugged, ergo, 'aliens made us do it'. And so were you."

Jack was leaned in close to Daniel, listening to his explanation. And he had only one thing to say about it. "That's quite possibly the biggest load of crap you've ever tried to feed me--and yourself,--Daniel." He was so close that his breath puffed the little shaggy hairs around Daniel's ear. He leaned even closer and pressed his lips to Daniel's ear as he kept whispering. "And if you think for one second it's going to get you out of this, you've got another think coming. You said last night--and this morning--that I was yours, and you want to know something? Goes both ways, Danny boy." Jack straightened up then, crossing his arms over his chest and propping his feet back up on Daniel's desk.

It had seemed so logical in Daniel's head, but even he knew it was crap -- and when Jack called him on it, he didn't argue. He couldn't. He'd lost his voice.

Daniel wasn't a sexual man by his very nature -- his passion was reserved for the strength of his mind, his playground since he was a little boy and his refuge when life became too insane. He'd never been comfortable enough for sex, and less so for arousal. He was a man and had his needs, but he was very, very good at ignoring them.

And in one fell swoop, Jack had blown that out of the water.

When he leaned in close, Daniel's entire body goosepimpled. All the hair stood up on his arms, and his eyelashes fluttered to half mast all on their own. The hot breath from Jack's lips tickled him, racing all the way down to his nipples which went stone hard behind his t-shirt and overshirt. The warm metal against his chest all but thrummed as he lowered his chin and closed his eyes until Jack backed away.

And then promptly flushed clear to his hairline and shivered. Heard a word? Of course not. "What?"

"You heard me loud and clear, bucko," Jack said, lacing his fingers behind his head.

Oh, he had, but...oh. He hid the next shiver by climbing to his feet and... okay, no, he didn't actually back up. He just... moved a little. Away. To clear his head. "There's nothing to get out *of*, Jack. Besides, I'm my own man." And if his voice squeaked a little, well. "And you said that you could never get involved w-with, uh, people on your team."

Jack didn't move from his recline in the chair. "No, what I said was I couldn't be dipping my dick in my subordinates. But, as you so succinctly pointed out to me on nine-oh-niner, you're not my subordinate. You're a civilian contractor working on SG-1 with a rank equivalent to my own." A snort. "Try another one."

"How about you're an arrogant, pig headed, sarcastic jackass?" Daniel asked, his voice a little high on that little word but… he was getting nervous. If he didn't know any better, he'd say Jack looked like a tiger watching his prey, and Daniel was never one for playing lamb. "One who, by the way, doesn't respect my work, thinks myths are fairy tales when they're in fact the basis of almost ALL cultures in our world or any other human inhabitants are on, and bought me a beach shovel and sand bucket for my birthday! Yes, *that's* respect!"

"I thought those were the things you loved about me," Jack said, still not moving, but following Daniel with his eyes. "And you told me at the time you thought the bucket was cute. If I'd known you were going to be a pissy bastard about it, I'd have gotten you one of your damn books and been done with it instead of trying to make you laugh when you needed it most."

"I didn't need to laugh, I need you to respect me as a man, instead of... treating me like a child!" Daniel said, and backed up again, a few more steps. He needed to get out of here, get... get to the surface for some air. He was going to suffocate. "Or worse, like I'm going to... going to... fall apart or something! I'm NOT!"

"I'm not treating you like a child, Daniel. I don't make it a point to fuck children." Very calm voice. "And I've seen you fall apart," he reminded, very quietly, because he didn't even like *thinking* about it. "I've seen you fall apart, and I've held you and I've put you back together. Pardon me if I don't want to do it again."

That stung. "Fuck you, Jack," Daniel snarled, turned, and grabbed his books from the desk, slamming them shut and gathering them up in the box he'd brought to carry them in.

"Didn't we already do that?" Jack got up from the desk then, and snatched the box out of Daniel's hands, throwing it against the wall. "Stop acting like a petulant brat and listen to yourself. You're scared, Daniel, because you think this... *thing,*" he said, waving his hands around vaguely, "was caused by the aliens or whatever and you're terrified of getting hurt again. Christ, I understand that, but *trust me.* I don't hurt you on purpose."

"Since when are you a psychiatrist? Gonna try and take MacKenzie's place, Jack?" Daniel hissed. If anger didn't work, his next was hurting and sarcasm. There was a method to his madness. He was practically vibrating with energy. "Pick up my books, Jack."

"No. And neither are you." Jack pushed Daniel down in the chair he'd just been sitting in, and went over to the camera, tilting it up just a few degrees, and then approached Daniel again, arms over his chest.

"You're going to have the SF's in here in ten seconds flat, Jack," Daniel said, and pushed back to his feet. His hands clenched at his sides. If Jack was going to be a bully, fine. He was leaving.

"Nah. They don't fuck with the Colonel when he's in a bad mood, Daniel, you know that." He just held out a hand and pushed Daniel back down into the chair, and moved into his personal space. "Sit. Down. Now."

"Back off," Daniel said, in a low, trembling voice. Anger, yes, plenty of it. Fear? Of course.

A little bit of anticipation? Yes. Because this was how they always danced, how they always fought, how they always argued. And for the longest time he thought getting hard every time was just a byproduct of adrenaline and Jack keeping him on his verbal toes.

God.

"Sit down, Daniel, or you're going to force me to do something unpleasant involving the bungee cords around your book boxes," he said pleasantly, and licked his lips as he looked down.

The licked lips made Daniel's heart literally skip in his chest, and he swallowed so hard his Adam's apple bobbed. The mouth, the... licking, and... he had to get out of here. Now. He leapt from the chair and made to move around Jack's towering body.

Jack's hand shot out and caught Daniel's bicep, dragging him back. When he dragged, he pulled Daniel against his body and kissed him hard. No pre-text, no foreplay, no lead in. Just as hard as he could, and then he pushed Daniel back down in the chair without a word.

Daniel didn't quite know what happened. A sharp tug at his arm, a yank, and then a mouth like an inferno, kissing him blind. He kissed back as fiercely as he was given, a handful of Jack's gray hair under his hand, the other at his shoulder, violently pushing even as his mouth sought Jack's.

When he was shoved back in the chair Daniel didn't know where he was for a half a second and he gasped, panting for air. Pleasure ripped through him, and fear, and anger, and he glared up at Jack fiercely, giving him a rough kick in the legs and shoving him back with his hands. "I won't be your pretty little woman, shut up with a kiss, you arrogant, self preserving ass!"

Jack held his hands out. "Notice, if you will? You haven't shut up yet. That wasn't the *point.* The point was to get your attention." He caught himself on the table as he stumbled backwards, and hitched a hip onto the table instead, leaning against it as he stared Daniel down. "And, it might be crass of me to point this out, but I'm gonna go ahead and do it because I'm nothing if not crass. There WAS two sets of lips in that deal, Daniel, and unless I was hallucinating, one of the pair wasn't mine and it was kissing me back."

"And if I was?" Daniel demanded. "It doesn't *mean anything*. This, all this that happened, it was because of the aliens, Jack! Janet is going to get it taken care of, we'll be back to normal, and that'll be it! Stop... yanking me around like you think this is going to last, because we *both* know some skirt will catch your eye eventually, Jack. You like women too much. *I* like women too much. So...stop it! Just stop!"

Jack made a great show of scratching his head. "Okay. First of all you were pointing out last night that I'd been celibate since I divorced my wife, which is actually not true, because we hadn't been sleeping together a long time before that. But now I'm a skirt chaser?" Jack just clicked his tongue. "Make up your mind, Daniel. I either don't fuck anything at all or I fuck anything that moves."

No one ever said Daniel was good at being logical when he was this confused. "You know what I mean!"

"No, actually, I don't. We clarified that earlier."

Daniel felt himself color. He'd had enough of this. He whipped around, grabbed his box that was, thankfully, still closed, and marched past Jack, shoving the chair out of his way.

He threw open the door and looked down the barrel of a .45.

"At ease!" Jack yelled, shouldering between Daniel and the gun. "At fucking ease!" He glared at the SF holding the gun. "Put that down before you shoot somebody."

Said SF, Sergeant Johnson, with three of his teammates, all put their guns down. "Sorry sir. The camera was moved -- its policy to make sure the area is secure."

"Yes, it is, I moved the damn thing because it kept blinking in the corner of my eye," he growled. "It was annoying me. You could have just *asked* instead of waving a gun at Daniel!" Hard, hard glare, and he didn't move from between Daniel and the SFs.

"Yes sir," Johnson said, much used to Colonel O'Neill's temper by now. He looked from the Colonel the Dr. Jackson's flushed, angry face, and then back, and decided it was time to leave. "You'll put the camera's to rights before you leave, sir?"

"Of course I will. You won't even be able to tell I shifted it." Growl. "Now do you mind if I finish yelling at my archaeologist in peace? Or do you want to stay for the fun?"

"No sir," Johnson said, knew better than to smile when Dr. Jackson growled in his throat, and turned on his heel with his teammates. The betting pool was gonna be huge tonight.

Daniel turned to glare at him and stomped out of the room in the opposite directions towards the elevator.

Since it was obvious they were going to be leaving, Jack reached up and readjusted the camera, giving the watching monitor a rude gesture as he sprinted out to catch up with Daniel, and just grinned as they got into the elevator together. "Where we going this time, Chief?"

Daniel sent him a sharp glare and then ignored him, putting his scholarly nose up in the air. It wasn't funny the first time he said it, and it wasn't funny now. "This conversation is over. Go away."

"No, this conversation isn't over. This conversation has been, so far, one-sided with an extra helping of Dr. Jackson's grade-A bullshit," Jack pointed out, yanking the box out of Daniel's hands to carry it himself.

Daniel grabbed it back and yanked it to his chest and hips. He needed something to hide the... er... never mind. "Oh, it is *so* over. If you want to obsess, go be obsessive over Sam. You've done it long enough now that it should come across like clockwork," Daniel snarled. He stepped out of the elevator, box to his body, and stomped towards his lab.

Jack followed. Nothing if not tenacious, that tenacity had gotten him where he was today and he wasn't going to let Daniel's little bitchfit get in the way of that. "When you're pawning me off on Sam instead of letting me take care of that, you're really desperate to get rid of me," Jack remarked mildly. He caught up to Daniel halfway down the hall, and slung his arm around Daniel's shoulders, fingers reaching into Daniel's collar to rub the chain of Jack's dog tags, still warm from Daniel's body heat, against Daniel's skin. Just to make his point.

Daniel went weak at the knees. For the first time he couldn't control his own body and he faltered when said knees turned to jelly. His belly flipped and tugged low in his groin, just as his dick tensed and began to harden. His eyelashes fell, his mouth trembled open to breath, and a rush of goosepimples flew across his cheeks and down his neck. Those tags had been snug around his cock, in his mouth, in Jack's, stroking over his flesh.

Oh.

"What?"

Jack just pulled Daniel closer with the arm around his shoulder. "We're going to your lab, remember? You didn't tell me why but I'm guessing it has to do with the lack of cameras?" He gave a little grin to show he was joking. "You... still want me out of your hair?" He let the dog tags fall back against Daniel's skin, but kept him close.

"What? oh, my..." He cleared his throat, too stunned to be angry by the way Jack was manipulating. Daniel had never catered to his body, not *ever*. Jack...was such a bastard. "My lab.." he cleared his throat. "It was cameras. They're just not turned on after the incident on P24-214."

"Good. Don't need to be. Nosy people getting their ya-yas off while honest people work for a living." He held out his arms for the box of books. "Lemme carry that for you, Daniel. I'm going to follow you anyway, you can at least let me make myself useful."

"No," Daniel said, and hugged the box closer. The closer the box was, the better. Because Jack was a manipulative *child* and Daniel couldn't be seen like this. He held it tight to his chest and swiped his key card to unlock the door, pushing it open and not waiting for Jack to enter as he flipped the lights on, flipped the coffee maker on, and thumped the books on the floor and his butt in a chair.

Jack followed, and closed the door behind him. He pushed the crap on the table out of the way enough for him to sit on it, and he moved so that his legs sprawled on either side of Daniel's. "Are you ready to listen now?"

"If you don't get out of my personal space I wont listen," Daniel said, recovering now a little that Jack wasn't so...close. Still too close for comfort, but he fixed that by pushing the chair back and standing, arms crossed, back to his book case.

"That's gotta be a first," Jack mused to himself, but stayed perched on the table, watching as Daniel hid against the bookcase. "Hiding enough against the bookcase, or do you want me to wheel in something else for you to hide behind?"

"Talk," Daniel snapped, ignoring his comments totally. His arms tightened.

"Okay. So let me see if I got the Daniel-ese straight. You seem to think that just because nine-oh-niner did something to screw up our body chemistry, that means everything that... everything that happened is now null and void?"

No. "Yes."

"You're full of it." Just as succinct.

Daniel was full of ignoring the way his body reacted to Jack's -- even the sore pain of his ass felt amazing. "I'm not full of anything, Jack. You think you have all the answers, but you don't."

"No, I do, you just don't ever ask me." Jack smiled lazily, and started advancing slowly towards Daniel. "Empty your pockets."

"I don't ask you because you never give it to me straight," Daniel said. And if his heart was pounding a little faster, and his head felt light, and his body was trembling ever so slightly, well then. "Empty what?"

"Well... if I was giving it to you straight, then we'd be having a little bit of a problem," Jack answered, his smile turning into a smirk as he sauntered closer. "Your pockets, Daniel. Those little things in the sides of your pants that you fill with pens, candy, and crap? Empty them out."

"I know what pockets are, and I'm *not* emptying them," Daniel said, and stepped away from Jack's advancements, further back towards the corner of his book case. Because he had a terrifying idea over what was coming, and hoped to god he'd locked the door.

"Suit yourself," Jack shrugged, and moved closer, so that Daniel was finally caught in the corner, where the bookcase met the wall.

He leaned forward and kissed Daniel again, hard and determined as his hands gripped Daniel's biceps tightly and held him in place. His tongue thrust into Daniel's mouth, delving deep and tasting the old coffee and the little hint of chocolate from the bite Daniel had taken earlier.

Oh God, it was so good.

Daniel grabbed him -- it was all he could *do* -- and hauled him closer. His mouth opened under the assault, the sweet pressure going deep, seeking, as Jack's tongue pushed deep and made Daniel see stars. The slow pull in his groin turned into fierce tugs that made his blood burn, his hips move all on their own, with his stone-hard cock caught between them.

Jack murmured softly as he kept kissing Daniel, letting the tight fists in his flight suit take care of keeping them pressed together as he dropped the grip on Daniel's arm and moved his hands downward to his hips. He hauled Daniel's lower body against his own, rubbing his thigh against Daniel's hard cock.

Sliding down from his hips, Jack's hands closed tightly on Daniel's backside, hauling him even further forward as he squeezed and kneaded.

Daniel pushed his arms under Jack's arm pits and grabbed on tight to his shoulders, keeping him close as they kissed and kissed and oh, God. The touch itself, delicious and masculine and everything Daniel didn't think he'd ever want near him, was more glorious than he could ever have imagined.

He moved against Jack's body, slow even thrusts that pushed his cock against Jack's body, just because Jack was encouraging it and Daniel... oh God, he wanted it so bad. Even the hard grip on his ass, so damn sore, sent a spark straight to his eyeballs, making him whimper in Jack's mouth.

Reluctantly, Jack pulled his mouth away from Daniel's, and dragged his teeth down Daniel's chin, and along his throat to the round neck of his black t-shirt.

His hands rose from Daniel's ass back to his chest, thumbs rubbing his nipples through the shirtfront, making them taut and pebbled even as Jack got closer to Daniel, and then slid down to his knees.

A slight wince, but his hands slid down as he did, rubbing the firm belly and muscles that were developing in Daniel's abdomen, then pulled up the hem of Daniel's t-shirt enough to thrust his tongue into his navel.

A kiss goodbye, and Jack's fingers started opening the front of Daniel's pants.

Daniel's breath exploded from him and he threw his head back into the corner, panting. He held onto the book case, groaning low in his throat and shaking his head even as his hips jerked. "Jack, no, no Jack, pl.. not here, not... oh God, not here," he moaned. He pulled up his shirt anyway when Jack shoved it up to lick his -- oh God. His hips thrust all on their own and he squeezed his eyes shut, fingers sliding through the wet Jack had left on his belly. Oh God. Oh *God*.

"Yes, here. And now. Don't you even think you're going to put this off, Danny. I'm tired of it. I'm tired of you trying to write it off to the aliens, to your body or mine, or just an accidental galactic oops," Jack said, his fingers skipping over belt latches, buttons, and zippers. "I don't care anymore," he continued softly. "You're going to believe. Or else." He nuzzled against Daniel's belly once more, and then licked down, to the elastic waistband of Daniel's underwear, and then down to the hard bulge that tented the fabric out.

Jack mouthed the entire length and shape once through the ribbed cotton, but quickly used his hands to bring both hard cock and warm balls out. No sooner had he done that did he lick the head of Daniel's cock, then closed his eyes for a long moment, debating something with himself, and then slid the entire length into his mouth in a single stroke.

Released it again in the next instant, swallowing only halfway when he slid back down, tonguing the rest of the shaft now that it was wet and wrapping his fist around the base to jack Daniel off.

Daniel almost didn't have time to cram his knuckles in his mouth before he sobbed out. His head thumped back against the wall again and his free fingers went to Jack's hair, sliding through the unruly gray locks over and over. Pleasure? This was...beyond pleasure. Daniel loved blow jobs almost more than anything else, and it had been so... so long. He needed it, he *craved* it all the way down inside of him, and it took everything in his power not to thrust forward when Jack's mouth slid over him -- hot, encased, tight, squeezing, God! -- and *sucked*.

Jack closed his eyes, letting his mouth and his tongue become reacquainted with the feel of a cock in his mouth. A little over two decades since he'd done it, and with Daniel it felt as natural as though he'd been doing it all his life.

He used the hand stroking the base of Daniel's cock to hold it steady and he slowly inched more of it into his mouth, sucking hard and bobbing his head up and down as much of the length as he could suck in.

His teeth tugged lightly at the head, his tongue teased the slit and the vein along the underside, and he licked the shaft as he slid down, guiding it deeper in his throat as his hand pumped what he couldn't suck.

No, oh God, not here, no, because Daniel... Daniel....

He looked down. He couldn't help it. Daniel's eyes locked on that thin mouth stretched over his dick, the sucking cheeks, the firm hand around the base, and saw pleasure.

But when Jack looked up at him, all puppy brown eyes filled with emotion, Daniel knew ecstasy.

He couldn't stop himself from thrusting forward a little. He tried, god help him, but he was losing his mind faster than he had as a kid.

Jack couldn't help looking up at Daniel when fingers slid through his hair and tugged. He met Daniel's eyes for a long moment, but when Daniel thrust forward, Jack's eyes dropped again, and he turned his concentration back to what he was doing.

His hands moved from Daniel's hips to his ass, firm handfuls squeezing and kneading and pushing him further into Jack's throat, letting him set the pace as Jack sat back on his heels and *sucked.*

"Jack pl--no, Jack, please," Daniel wailed, muffled into his fist again. Jack was sucking, hard, but his mouth was open a little and Daniel took it for the invitation it was. He thrust forward, slowly, gently, shallowly, just a little, but he had to move he *had* to. Jack was so hot, so good, and oh, God, his glasses were hanging off of one ear but he didn't *care* because he had to *thrust* and oh, there went his glasses.

God. GOD.

Jack barely caught Daniel's glasses at the last second, and shoved them on the nearest shelf of the bookcase. His hands went right back to Daniel's hips, slowing the thrusts as he pulled off entirely.

"Turn around," Jack grated softly, throat a little hoarse as his hands pushed Daniel into position. "Like that. Hands on your shelf."

Daniel cried, "Yes!" even as his backside wailed 'no'. He turned quickly, gripping the shelf and bending over enough so he had to brace his feet. His body was thrumming, his cock was so hard it was purple, leaking steadily onto the floor, and his blood raced like he couldn't get in enough air. He wanted Jack *in* him, regardless of the pain, because that special spot inside of him was enough to blow his brain up.

Jack's hands slipped around into Daniel's pockets, taking the opportunity to grope his cock as he finally came out with the tube of KY lubricant that Janet had given Daniel.

He opened the cap with a flip of his thumb, and to his surprise, the tube didn't expel any air as he squeezed it. One hand rubbed the slick gel all over his fingers, and he made an excited little "ooh!" as he was surprised by the easy glide. "Oh, I may have to invest in this stuff," he said with a grin, while the other hand tugged at Daniel's waistband, helping him ease the underwear and uniform pants down enough to let him in.

Jack's slick fingers probed gently, and carefully, at the little opening between Daniel's cheeks, spreading the lube around the little hole before pulling out and adding more to his fingers before pressing the first fingertip in.

Daniel couldn't help a snorting choke of laughter as he spread his legs wider and... he was a linguist so he didn't use words like 'humped', so he... rubbed back against Jack's crotch, until that finger made itself known and he froze. Oh God. they were about to have sex in his office.

Oh God.

The flash of pain from his small hole and his soft cry of, "God, what are we doing?" didn't much matter in the long run, because the pain was good, so good, and Daniel pushed back into it even as he squeezed his eyes shut. Familiar pain now, not like the first that had taken his breath away but pain he knew. Pain that would bring pleasure.

He squeezed as hard as he could around Jack's finger.

Jack chuckled and let his forehead rest against Daniel's back. "If you don't know what we're doin', then it's kind of late in the game to be asking." He gave a little cry of his own when Daniel squeezed around his finger, and he pushed it further in, slowly but carefully stroking inside his lover's body.

"More," Daniel hissed, a dribbling string of precome falling from the head of his cock. "More!"

Jack nodded against Daniel's back, his breath puffing warmly over Daniel's skin as he carefully pushed the second finger into Daniel's opening. He worked them in together, stroking slowly until he could feel the give in Daniel's passage, and sped up, moving and scissoring his fingers until they moved freely.

Hurt, hurt, hurt, bad but so *good*, and Daniel whimpered again and pushed back against the pressure of Jack's finger. "Lots, Jack, lube, spread it in," he panted, the small channel flexing with each twitch of Daniel's cock. "I wanna be a slip-n-slide, you got me?" he let go of the book case with one hand and gripped his cock, squeezing and jacking in three hard strokes before letting go again and licking the precome from his fingers.

Jack wondered, briefly, if shoving the tube in where his fingers had stretched and squeezing would provide enough lube for Daniel's peace of mind, and he actually found himself inspecting the tube before discarding the idea and instead, squirting a thick layer onto his fingers, which he immediately transferred to Daniel's body.

His fingers worked to smooth it all the way in, as deep as his fingers could wiggle. He pulled out to do it a second time, this time spreading the lube with three fingers as they slid easily in and out of Daniel's well-lubed hole, and the third squeeze of the tube, Jack used to slick his own cock, as soon as he freed himself from his clothing.

He got to his feet, and rubbed the slick head against Daniel's equally as slippery opening. "Ready, Daniel?" he asked, bracing one hand on Daniel's hip and the other on his cock.

The three fingers went in... so easily and Daniel's back arched with it. A little *too* lubed but so long as it was easy, and it didn't hurt, and he wanted it *in* and he 'nnned' in his throat and wriggled his hips, bearing back and hoping to *God* Jack did what he'd intended to do. In his office. In the middle of Cheyenne Mountain.

With Don't Ask, Don't Tell.

He froze and his throat bobbed, erection receding a little as he thought about that for a second. If they were caught... if... if *Jack* was caught.. "Jack," he croaked.

And Jack was just ready to ease himself into Daniel's opening when the slightly terrified call of his name stopped him. He leaned forward, over Daniel's back, leaning over him as he braced himself against the bookcase to. "Yeah?" he asked softly, mouth against Daniel's ear and lips gently nibbling his earlobe.

"Jack, w-we're in the... anyone could... this is... bad idea, Jack, bad," Daniel babbled, rubbing back against Jack's erect cock even as he spoke because he was on an edge he couldn't pull away from. "Jack, J-Jack," he said, hoping to God Jack had understood what he'd said, even as he groaned deep in his throat.

"No, good idea," Jack said into Daniel's ear. A strained chuckle. "Nobody comes to your office anyway, unless they're looking for me," he pointed out. "Since we're under quarantine..." He rubbed the head of his cock against Daniel's opening again, as Daniel rubbed back against him. "... nobody can come in contact with us."

"Jack!" Daniel... did not yell it. He...said it. Loudly. Even as his cock went rock hard and more precome dribbled from the end of it. He humped back, pushing against Jack, but they were so slippery he couldn't push Jack in. He braced himself instead, canting his hips, nearly *begging* for it as his knuckles went white on the bookcase.

Jack didn't make Daniel wait any longer; at the desperate sob of his name, Jack eased himself forward and let his cock slide into Daniel's body.

He gave a deep, chest-rattling groan as the heat of Daniel's opening clasped him and pulled him in, his hands going to his lover's hips to haul him backwards. His teeth grit as he fought the urge to fuck wildly against Daniel, instead slowly and carefully inching forward until he was completely sheathed in his lover's body.

Pain! Rocking, agonizing, sharp and hot and pulling and SO GOOD Daniel thought he'd die with it.

Jack eased in, slow and steady and perfect, brushing past the good spot that made Daniel see stars. The way Jack rocked in him, rolling his cock into Daniel's body, moving and pushing until he got past the second ring of muscle and slid...so easily and perfectly in. No condom, no nothing, just the sweet push inside and the perfect sensation of the pain dulling and the pleasure swamping Daniel's body. Adrenaline coursed through his pleasured body, making him sweat, making him writhe. The sensation was unreal, because Daniel had never thought he'd find himself in a position to enjoy this as much as he did. It hurt, but the hurt made it so much better, better than any sex he'd ever had.

He wailed, hips rolling back against Jack's stomach. He gripped his dick as hard as he could to stop from coming and grunted.

Jack gave a wolfish grin as he lunged forward, pushing into Daniel as Daniel thrust back against him.

His hands gripped Daniel's hips tightly, pulling him back, setting a rapid pace as his cock thrust roughly into Daniel's body.

He knew Daniel's hand was on his cock, and if he'd had a third hand, he'd have slapped it away. But he growled anyway, surging forward to bury himself in Daniel's body.

One arm slid around Daniel's waist instead of his hip, snuggling him possessively back against Jack's chest as they rocked together.

Daniel's head fell, sweat pouring off his body, dampening both his shirts and sliding down his back. His thighs were slick with lube, his cock with precome, his face with tears of pleasure and *more* sweat, sliding down his temples and off his chin as they moved together in the suffocating office, heat and pleasure in his every move. They built up the rhythm, and Daniel knew if he moved his hips to the left and down a little that Jack would hit the pleasure button. Truthfully, he was terrified of it.

He moved anyway.

On Jack's next thrust, Daniel saw God. Or the equivalent, anyway. A dozen-angel chorus sang in his head when the ecstasy threatened to undo him, ringing a sharp, echoing scream off the thick stone walls. Another thrust, another, precome dribbling out of him like he was coming, but he *wasn't* because the orgasm was *there*, locked in tight, and oh, God, Jack, please harder.

Daniel hadn't said a word, but Jack *got* it.

He shifted when Daniel did, and he knew exactly when he'd hit the right spot for Daniel's eyes to cross.

His arm tightened around his lover's waist as he sweated, holding Daniel close to him as his hips thrust, pounding him with hard strokes, each push of his cock jabbing roughly against Daniel's prostate.

He was panting, worse than when he'd climbed the ziggurat, but it was *worth* it, worth the heat and the sweat and the breathlessness to be this close to Daniel, and Jack's cheek rested on Daniel's shoulder as he drove in harder and harder.

He finally let go of Daniel's hip with his other hand, and let it slide forward, until he found Daniel's hand already on his cock.

A tight squeeze of Daniel's wrist and Jack led it away, stroking it with his own calloused grip as he focused his eyes on what Daniel was staring at.

"Neo-Classicism in pre-Roman Greek Society?" he asked, flicking dust off the spines of the books. His voice was gravelly, as though he was fighting to speak through his orgasm, despite having not come yet.

At first Daniel didn't know what Jack was saying, and then after a moment he *got* it, just... just *got* it and he wailed so hard his body shook, ass convulsing with his jerking dick and his sobbing cry. "Yes!" he cried, and for the first time, he pushed back into Jack's thrusts, and it was harder and deeper *and better*, so much better. He pulled forward and thrust back against Jack's surging dick, over and yes and please!

Jack's laugh was short and breathless as Daniel went insane under him, and it amused him that all it had taken was the title of one of his books.

So he did it again. "Deconstruction of Classic Mythology of Pre-Mesopotamian Societies." The next book had a thick strand of Daniel's pre-come splattered onto it, and Jack used his thumb to wipe the spine clean, then offered it to Daniel for sucking. "Developmental Stages of Pre-Christian Religious Structures In The Nile Cradle."

Insane... was a nice way of putting it. Daniel's body surged, moving fiercely under Jack's, pushing and thrusting and harder, goddammit! He moved because he wanted to, because it felt so good he could die, and he put that energy into sucking on Jack's thumb as hard as he could, tongue lashing across the wet tip. Jack talking this way, that low voice of his, rumbling about the things Daniel loved, was such a huge turn on that he nearly died with it.

He shoved his hand under his shirt for Jack's dog tags, tugged them off, and wrapped his fist around Jack's on his cock, jacking him off together with the rolling balls across his skin.

Jack was certain he was going to have a heart attack if he ever wore those dog tags again. He clamped his fist tightly around them, letting Daniel's hand cover his as they jacked him off together, the dog tag chain abrading Daniel's cock with every stroke.

In the tiny part of his brain still functioning, Jack promised himself he'd start reading those kinky magazines again and see if there was any possible way that dog tags could possibly stay wrapped around Daniel's cock permanently.

It'd certainly discourage anyone *else* from touching what belonged to him.

Jack gave a possessive lunge at that, tightening his grip around Daniel's waist and hauling them back-to-chest, so tight together that you couldn't have passed breath between them. He growled at the thought, pushing Daniel up against the bookcase. "Methodology of Carbon-Dating In Pre-Dynastic Egypt."

"Egypt," Daniel wailed, forcing the thrusts shorter and harder into him, fast, because he was sliding up the slippery slope and he was closing in on the edge, ready to fall into oblivion with each thrust into him. His ass screamed for mercy but his prostate and his dripping, rock-hard dick overruled it, pleasure swamping him in waves. "PLEASE!"

obliged, driving into Daniel with shorter, harder thrusts, fist still tight around his cock and jacking him off with the dog tags.

His teeth caught Daniel's earlobe and pulled it into his mouth for sucking, then rubbed his stubbly cheek against Daniel's, panting harshly as he forced his eyes to focus on the gold print of the next book title. "Pre-Dynastic Egypt Mythology Versus the Creationist Theory of Dynastic Pharoahism."

That did it. Mythology. Jack plus mythology equals oblivion.

Daniel came so hard he didn't know he was coming until the pleasure walled into him and had he not pushed his face into his shoulder, he'd have screamed the complex down. He came so hard he saw stars, in fact, come splashing over his books, each so lovingly thumbed, and it was so *unreal* and so *erotic* that Daniel nearly lost it. His body squeezed on Jack, hard, tense, unable to help it when he came, and came, and bit into his lapel as he did.

"Gettin'... your books dirty," Jack grunted, barely able to push words past the crashing and roaring in his ears as Daniel clamped down on him.

Tight, hard, pulling him further in even as Daniel came, and Jack braced himself on the bookcase as he shuddered. He was barely hanging on by a thread, riding out Daniel's orgasm and sucking a bright purple hickey on the back of Daniel's neck as he muffled his own screams.

As soon as Daniel's shudders stopped, Jack gave a deep, shuddering thrust into Daniel's body and he came. Hard, fast, wet and sticky as he came, Jack felt the lube squelching slightly around his cock as he let it slide out, until just the head remained. Sticky mess, the both of them, headed to the locker room for showers and Jack didn't think he could *move.*

His heart was pounding in his chest, breath puffing heavily into Daniel's ear as he shuddered. His arm squeezed Daniel's waist tightly, staying still as he shuddered.

The come pouring into him, though unfelt, was *there*. Daniel knew it, in the parts of his mind still working, that Jack had just come into him, that when Jack pulled out his come would pour down his thighs. But rather than find it unsavory it was...more erotic than Daniel could contemplate at the moment and he shuddered and shivered, unable to speak or breathe or think around the pleasure and peace in his mind. It was so good, so perfect, so wonderful, that it took his breath away.

"Uhgnh." *Me Jack. You Daniel. Ugh.* That felt like the extent of the brain capacity Jack had left. "Jus' realized the downside," Jack mumbled. "Can't share the shower."

Daniel snorted, low in his throat. He couldn't help it. What a mundane thing to say. He looked up, bleary with pleasure, and gave Jack a little grin of the recently pleased, who didn't have a care in the world. He nearly suggested they go to Jack's place, but then he remembered just why this had happened, and how Jack was a manipulative bastard, and some of the pleasure drained away to wariness. "We probably should. We look like we killed each other."

Jack slowly unglued his hand from Daniel's cock, and draped the messy dog tags back over Daniel's head, careful to avoid getting come in his hair. Then he nuzzled Daniel's cheek gently. "Prob'ly should shower," he agreed.

Only getting come on his shirt. And oh, God, it was... naughty and… oh. His brain fizzled again. "bastard," he said softly, swallowing against teh dryness of his throat and giving his hips a squirm. "Tissues?"

"On'yer desk," Jack grunted, pulling out and away just enough to grab the box and hand it to Daniel.

The slow, hot rush out of his body made him uncomfortable, and a little embarrassed, and shy, and Christ. They were going to the showers anyway. Daniel mopped his soaking wet cock up a little, hissing at the touch, and tucked it away as he pulled up his pants. He could feel Jack's... "Shower," he said, quickly.

"Yeah. Showers." Jack's eyes were half-mast. "You're already a bad influence on me. One night, and I'm already picking up your habits," he said, yawning. He rubbed against Daniel's ass again, and left his arm around Daniel's waist.

Daniel wasn't sure what to do. He wanted to take off and get *away* from Jack. He wanted to stay and kiss the hell out of him. He was embarrassed out of his mind for instance, and sleepy, and he had work and come to clean up and he wanted nothing more than to jump on his desk and spread his legs again, ask for dirty things only Jack could give him.

It was time to bail.

"I gotta shower. Coming?"

Dammit! He didn't mean to say that last part! But it was out, and he cleared his throat and looked away.

"Just did," Jack grunted, cracking his neck and then rubbing his belly before looking down to make sure he was all tucked away. He tugged his zipper up all the way, and then blinked. "Shower, yeah. We really should. And then check with Janet and see how much longer we're stuck in here."

Daniel's Adam's apple bobbed. His ass felt like the inside of a meat shredder, but he was too polite to say such things. He just buttoned up, the slow pull inside of them strange and gross and kind of exciting in a dirty way, and his cheeks flushed as his eyelashes fell and his mouth trembled open. He swallowed audibly that time, and looked up at Jack again, hoping he wouldn't have to… say it.

Daniel's open mouth was too much for Jack to resist, and he leaned forward, kissing him firmly and stroking inside his mouth with his tongue as Jack's hand rose to hold Daniel still.

Oh, yes.

Daniel leaned in at the same time Jack did and took over the kiss easily. His tongue stroked in, one hand sliding up into gray hair to pull him closer. That lean, long body pressed snug against his, hard in all the right places, spoke of the life he'd lived. It was just another layer to the whole Jack package, and if Daniel could admit it to himself, made him so damn sexy. He'd wanted to do this for longer than he cared to think about.

Jack had always been sexy.

It was hardly a realization, and that was the scary part. Daniel let him go anyway, panting for breath, and made sure his pants were zipped.

Jack didn't let go, just let his hand fall to the small of Daniel's back, fingertips brushing there lightly. "Glad Janet gave you the KY now?" he smirked, picking the tube up from the floor, and tucking it in Daniel's pocket, then handed him his glasses from the bookcase.

Daniel took them, fingers trembling, and swallowed. "We... we shouldn't have," was all he said, voice trembling as he pulled the sticky dog tags up enough to tuck them under his shirt. Come. Cold, wet, GOD. He faltered when they hit his skin, flushed hot, and cleared his throat. "Shouldn't have, Jack. Still... still under the influence."

"Really." Jack shrugged. "I feel like myself, if the attitude is anything to go by, and I don't feel like I'm being influenced to do anything, except possibly take a nap, but I think that's picking up YOUR bad habits."

And the way Jack looked in that moment, all cocky and arrogant and sleepy and satisfied, made Daniel's heart jerk. He knew last night, as Jack slid into him and made sleepy, glorious love to... to *him -- and Jesus, how weird was that? -- that he was in love with him. Knew it aas easy as he knew himself. But the day brought a different light to matters, and it had weighed heavily on his mind all day long.

Now, he knew. He knew what he had to do.

"I'm picking up yours, because when I woke up on Monday I was straight, and now its Friday and somehow? You've rubbed off on me, literally and figuratively." He looked up. "Jack, we shouldn't be having this conversation. Look. Let's go get cleaned up, and we can go over to my place, okay?"

"I haven't rubbed off on you yet, but we can try that if you want to." Jack's leer was entirely too suggestive for his own good. "But I'm all for getting the hell out of here." He grunted. "I can break us out, if they don't let us go."

"I can't stay here." Truthfully, Daniel felt like he was suffocating. He needed to go home, go out on his terrace, and clear his head. The last month had been too hard, and now… this. Waking up, quite literally, gay. Or bisexual. Or something he'd never been before. A dick had been in his ass, not once, not twice, but THREE TIMES. His manhood? Gone. His self preservation? Gone. His walls, his protection, his way of coping? Blown to absolute hell.

He would not get hysterical.

"I'll ask Janet. She likes me."

- = - = -

"No, absolutely not," Janet said, crossing her arms across her chest.

Jack had his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against one of the beds in the infirmary. He couldn't help himself, though. "I thought you said she liked you," Jack whispered, leaning forward just enough to whisper it in Daniel's ear, and then leaned *back* against the bed, hitching his hip up on the flat surface as he watched Daniel try to get the best of Dr. Frasier.

Apparently, so had Daniel. Janet glared at him, miniature eyebrow arched. "I heard that, Colonel. And I *do* like him, both of you in fact. I should, I've seen every inch of you. But you're under quarantine for good reason. The General, and the President, both agree. Sorry, boys."

Jack just looked innocent, holding his hands up. "Doc... I'm fine. You took my blood yourself during the physical, and you said there's nothing of the happy pill left by the time you got to me," he said sensibly.

"Yes, but it could have unforeseen secondary effects. The last time I let you both leave, you got drunk and had to get your stomachs pumped because the alcohol didn't mix with what you'd eaten. Remember?"

"How could we forget," Daniel said with a sigh.

"Okay, so, let Daniel leave first. He's the--responsible one." Jack could have sworn it was physically painful to say that. "Then you can let me leave a few minutes later. That way, we're not leaving together."

"Funny, Colonel," Janet said with a smile. "You'll have to find a room here to sleep for the night."

"It's not that, Janet." Daniel looked up at her. "It's... uh, well." He flushed.

Janet couldn't help softening a little. He looked so embarrassed, and upset, and she hated seeing Daniel embarrassed and upset. he was meant for blushing and sweet eyes and looking as adorable as usual, not uncomfortable. She gently patted his knee. "I know. It's been a trying few days, but... you both need to understand that I cannot in good conscience let you leave until I'm certain you're not compromised."

"We weren't compromised in the first place!" Jack complained, and heaved a sigh. "C'mon, Daniel. I'll take you down to the commissary and buy you dinner. We never got to finish the Chinese *or* the beer, but it's still in my truck if you want to go and get it." Glare at Janet for good measure. "If that's permissible, that is."

Janet wasn't watching the Colonel -- she had her eyes on Daniel, who had paled abruptly at her refusal. She frowned tightly, glaring at the Colonel in case he did something to Daniel to make him look this way, and touched her hand to his cheek. His skin was clammy, his pulse racing. A panic attack? "Daniel?"

"Yeah? Oh… sorry," he said, and spaced back in. "What?"

"You've gone white." She pulled out her pen light and shined it in his eyes before he twitched away from her like a kid, and picked up her wrist with the other hand. "When was the last time you ate?"

That he didn't answer right away was just the answer she'd expected. "I thought so. I have half a mind to hook you up to an IV." Her shrewd eyes pinned Colonel O'Neill to the wall. "You're taking him to eat right now?"

"Yeah, I am," Jack answered. "We skipped dinner last night and went straight to the... ah... entertainment portion of the evening, and the General called us in before breakfast." His hand went out to tighten around Daniel's arm, and then looped around his waist. "I had candy bars earlier, but Daniel's had coffee and that's it." Soft growl. "I should have thought to feed you first and then fuck you," he muttered.

Yes. They were acting completely normal. Janet's eyebrows climbed clear to the back of her head at that, because if she didn't know any better, she'd say Daniel gave him an almost... loving glare in return. In full view of the cameras.

Okay.

"I want you both to give me some blood after you eat. All right? Come back here as soon as you're done. Colonel, I expect Daniel to eat at least two courses, and drink plenty of juice or water."

"Oh, stop glaring," Jack said, rolling his eyes. "Don't worry, Doctor. He's going to eat everything if I have to sit on him to make it happen." Glare to Daniel. "And don't you dare *But Jaaaaaaaaaack, I'm not that hungry!* me!"

Janet didn't think Daniel had it in him right now, and she shooed them off none too gently. "An hour, Colonel!"

Daniel climbed to his feet tiredly, nodded at the tiny woman, and nudged Jack to get him going. He was tired, and dizzy, and panicking, and something suspicious was crawling through his veins that felt a whole lot like guilt. Enormous, agonizing, painful guilt, like he'd felt only two other times in his life.

"We'll be back after dinner," Jack answered, not giving a damn if it was longer than an hour or not. He started out the door, dropping his arm as Daniel pushed him and led the way out of the infirmary. "I hear they've got chicken on the menu today," Jack said, just a little antsy as he watched Daniel move. He was cursing himself for not noticing this earlier, and vowed that he was going to take a little more interest in Daniel's eating habits to make sure it *didn't* happen again.

"What? Oh. I guess. You know the commissary," Daniel said offhand, thoughtful as they walked. Examining the feeling inside.

Jack frowned. "What's going on, Daniel? You're out in the middle of your own headspace again."

Daniel looked up, rubbing a hand through his still-damp hair. "Sorry, Jack. Just thinking. What were you saying?"

"Nothing that you couldn't miss; chicken on the menu in the commissary, mostly." He put his hand on Daniel's back again. "You need to eat, pronto. Never seen you *this* absent-minded before."

Daniel lifted a shoulder a little so Jack would....stop touching him. "I'm not absent minded, Jack. Just because some of us can think and chew gum at the same time..." he let it trail off and swiped his card at the elevator, just as Teal'c of all people stopped beside them.

Daniel looked up at the big Jaffa with something akin to...well, a little bit of awe. "Hi, Teal'c."

"Good day to you, DanielJackson, O'Neill." His face was spread into as much of a smile as he ever had, which was not much to begin with.

Jack frowned, and let his hand drop. "Teal'c. How are you feeling?"

More of the non-smiling smile, and Teal'c's chest was about puffed out to burst. "I am feeling quite well, O'Neill. In fact, I do not believe that I have felt better in many months."

That made one of them. Daniel didn't think Sam was feeling the same, but he didn't mention it. "Teal'c, about that," he said, and stepped into the elevator, holding it for them as they too boarded. The doors closed and Daniel turned to Teal'c. "You and Sam... uh." He flushed a little, bringing some color to his face. "Well. And... today, that's... uh."

"Samantha and I are none of your concern, DanielJackson, though I thank you for it." More of the smiling. "I am going to the commissary now to bring back lunch for the both of us, as I promised I would, in her words, give her a chance to recover. From what I do not know."

Daniel ducked his head, stifling the smile, and glanced up a little. "Teal'c, human women, uh.... well, to be frank, human men can usually have sex twice a night, maybe three times tops if they have stamina."

Teal'c gave Daniel a once-over, and turned to the silent O'Neill, and did the same. "It is more the pity for them," he said. "Jaffa men do not have that problem."

"What Daniel is trying to *not* say, Teal'c, is that Carter's not *built* for more than three times a night."

Teal'c's head cocked as his eyebrow rose. "Indeed. Perhaps this is the need for recovery that she spoke of. I will take that under advisement."

"Yeah," Daniel said, but didn't get to say more as the doors opened and they stepped off.

The commissary was almost completely empty at this hour of the night. Everyone had gone home, and it was nearing nine, now. The food would be disgusting, but Daniel could get away with a sandwich. Something to put in his stomach, which he had a feeling would go down like lead.

Teal'c headed straight to the line, and the first thing he chose was a tall parfait glass of blue gelatin, with whipped cream on top.

Jack couldn't help the chuckle as Teal'c started piling food onto the tray, enough for five people or more, and let his hand touch Daniel's back again. "Mmmm. Sandwiches. Chicken and gravy, which looks about as appetizing as road tar, and oooh. Donuts. And coffee. Mmm.... donuts."

"Just coffee and a sandwich," Daniel said, and went about getting just that. The coffee wasn't the best, the sandwich looked a little ragged around the edges, but he was too tired to care.

"Fraiser said two courses, and she didn't mean for one of them to be liquid," Jack reminded him.

Daniel gave him a withering look that said, 'Janet didn't mean for us to fuck either, and look where that got us'.

And *knew* Jack had understood it.

He grabbed a slice of pie anyway.

Yeah, Jack had understood it, and he slammed his own plate of whip cream covered pie onto his tray a little harder than he'd meant to.

Daniel couldn't help a little smirk as he set his tray down by Fran's check out box and rooted in his pockets for a minute, patting them down until he found the few dollars he'd crammed into one and counted out, as usual, five fifty for his food. Fran gave him a vaguely disapproving look, and Daniel pretended not to notice when she pushed a banana onto his tray too.

Jack paid for his sandwich, pie, coffee, and donuts, and just shook his head at the mountain of food Teal'c was balancing on two trays. "Need help there, T?"

"I believe that I have it under control, O'Neill," came the succinct answer.

Jack got the distinct impression that Teal'c was still pissed off at him from the phone call this morning, and didn't push the big Jaffa as he handled his two trays.

Instead, he did as he always did and sat across from Daniel.

Daniel looked up and waved a hand at Teal'c as the big man departed, then began to open the paper around his sandwich. He didn't say anything, just finally relaxing for the day, his mind filled with his personal problems, the translation that was currently trying its best to kick his ass, and the deep-seeded worry over the whole of it.

Jack wasn't usually a childish man, but the silence from Daniel was wearing on his nerves.

So he did what any good five year old would do.

He wadded up the paper from his sandwich and threw it at Daniel. It landed right in the middle of his chest and fell to his lap, and Jack immediately picked up his coffee and strived to look innocent.

Daniel blinked, looked up, then down at the paper in his lap, then up again, his eyebrows furrowing. "What was that for?"

"Mmm?" Jack looked at him over the rim of his coffee cup. "What was what for?"

"All right, Jack," Daniel said, rolled his eyes, and put the paper back on the table. He took a bite out of his sandwich, chewing thoughtfully and trying to identify what it was made of. Like all things in the commissary, it was best if one didn't know.

Jack put his coffee cup down, and used his fork to inch the paper back over to his side of the table.

Once he had it in his hand, he threw it again.

This time, it bounced off Daniel's shoulder, and landed on the corner of his tray.

Daniel set his sandwich down calmly, looked at the paper, then up at Jack. "What is your problem?"

Jack shrugged. "You look like you need to be distracted from whatever gloomy doomy crap is going on in your head."

"You mean the things adults need to think about, Jack?"

"Aaah, now see, there's that word I hate when it comes out of your mouth." Jack picked up one of his donuts and bit into it.

He was sure Jack was baiting him. "What, adult?"

"Nah. thinking. Usually means you're doing too much of it," Jack answered around his donut.

"As opposed to...?" Daniel asked, and picked his sandwich up again.

"Doin' what you feel is right."

"And what if what you feel is right and what you *know* is right are two completely different things? And by doing one you're destroying your morals, and by doing the other you're forever changing everything you thought to be true of yourself? And what about introducing secondary problems, like what is accepted by our society, and what is accepted by yourself? What then, Jack? Can you drop one for the other without understanding the consequences of your actions?"

Jack gestured around the room, but he meant the Mountain. "See, Daniel, that's just the thing. Maybe for you, what happens outside this base means anything, but in case you haven't noticed? What happens on the Mountain stays in the Mountain. Which leaves one consideration." Jack scooted his chair up closer to the table, so that he was leaning over it to glare at Daniel. "If you can stop running your goddamned mouth and your goddamned brain for two minutes and decide if you can accept what you feel for no other reason than it feels *right.*"

Daniel trembled all over. "That's what makes it worse. You don't get it, Jack. It isn't about what anyone in the Mountain thinks." His voice was low, so low he was tripping over his words, so the SF's in the corner didn't hear them. "It's not about what anyone here thinks, because I could give a damn less. It's that my wife has only been dead and in the ground for a year, and I can eat without it turning to ash in my mouth and I can let you screw me and I *want* it. She was my wife, Jack, and I can live again. Do you understand?"

Jack shook his head. "No, I don't understand," Jack hissed quietly, keeping his voice as low as Daniel did. "You didn't lose Shau're last year, Daniel. I hate to be the one to tell you. You lost her the moment Apophis took her. And you looked for her, and you never stopped loving her, but you know as well as I do that Shau're was lost to you the second Amonet crawled inside her gut." Jack winced for what he was saying. "I'm sorry, Daniel. I shouldn't be the one telling you this. But she was gone *years* ago and you wouldn't let yourself mourn until last year. I've seen you put yourself through *hell* because of it, and I've stood by you through it because you're my friend and there's nowhere else I'd have rather been. But I'm not going to let you die on me, Daniel. And I'm not going to let you shut down and wait for death to find you, either."

Slam of his hand down on the table. "I... you're.... Daniel, you're... important. To the team." *And to me.* "So no. I don't understand why you're fighting it with your head, when we both know your... well, other parts already know."

Jack could not have hit him harder if he'd slapped him across the face. Daniel stared at him, stunned by it as if it *had* been a slap. He simply stared for a moment, and when he knew if he didn't look away he was going to do something drastic, he climbed to his feet. "I know Shau're was just a woman to you. The wife of some guy you once knew. And it's too bad that she got taken by the Goa'uld, made into a host, and forced to live a life of servitude to the creature wrapped inside of her. Just like I know you think I was obsessed with finding her, that I went too far sometimes. But this is something you need to understand, Jack. Shau're was my wife. I don't know what that means to you, but to me it meant the woman who loved me enough to let me be myself, who I loved because she brought joy to my life I'd never had before. I loved her more than you'll ever know, and *that* is why I looked for her -- because being her husband meant something to me. Because I failed to protect her and her child. I won't get over losing my wife, Jack, four years ago or eight months ago." He slammed his hands on the table himself, and leaned in real close. His eyes were dead blue pools in his face. "She taught me to live, even when fucking assholes like you are the best my life can provide for me, and I'd be doing a great disservice to her memory by giving up."

"Do you remember what you told me on Abydos, Daniel? First time we opened the Stargate? I was sitting in the caves, with Skaara and the kids after they'd risked their *lives* to save me. You came into the back there, and told me that it was a shame I wanted to die because I couldn't move on after Charlie's death, because nobody else wanted to die with me." Hard swallow, and this time, Jack *made* himself speak through the babble that wanted to pour out of him. "I watched you kill yourself every day you didn't find her. Every time that 'Gate opened, you'd fly through as though you were expecting to find her on the other side. And when you didn't, the light would go out of you and while you did your damnedest to hide it from everyone, *you cannot hide it from me!*"

"She was my WIFE!" Daniel roared, and all noise stopped in the commissary. "What part of that do you not understand, Jack? My wife was taken by the Goa'uld and enslaved, and there wasn't a goddamned thing I could do about it. The last thing I ever wanted to do was die, then or now, because she taught me to *live*. So fuck you, Jack, for trying to belittle what she was to me, and fuck you for thinking you know just what to tell me to get over losing her, and fuck you for brushing away the greatest tragedy of my life, and fuck you for being a goddamned bastard," Daniel snarled, turned, and slammed out of the commissary.

Jack shoved back from the table, upending the flimsy metal in his fury and his anger to catch up with Daniel. He made it to the commissary door just as Daniel was getting ready to turn the corner, and he bellowed out, "Goddammit, Daniel, *HALT!!!* Right now!" He pushed past the few people still circulating in the hallways even as he was yelling, and in a few short steps, he was right back in Daniel's face.

And Daniel turned his reputation on its ear. He was normally so calm, so gentle, so understanding, so peace loving. There wasn't a temperamental bone in his body.

But Daniel went against his character and against his friend, who had so casually dismissed Daniel as a widower, who had all but said that he should get over the death of his wife. Getting up each morning knowing he'd let his wife be raped by Apophis every day, that he'd let her be impregnated, that he'd birthed her demonic spawn himself, was enough to force Daniel to breathe, to eat, to sleep, so he could one day ask find forgiveness for what he'd done. To know Jack dismissed his tragedy with a wave of his hand hurt Daniel almost as much as losing his wife had.

And so, when he snapped, it was a surprise to no one but Jack.

As was the right hook Daniel had learned from Jack himself.

Jack wasn't sure how he ended up on his ass, but he there he was, pain blossoming over his jaw. It felt like every tooth on that side of his face had been loosened, and he *knew* for a fact that he was tasting blood.

If he hadn't known better, he'd have thought Daniel hit him.

The shock of it kept him on the floor for a long moment, flexing his jaw to make sure nothing was broken, and his tongue wiggled several teeth experimentally. "You wanna explain that?" Jack asked, shaking his head once he was sure nothing was going to break off or fall out. The next step was pushing himself to his feet, and he stared at Daniel in stunned horror.

Daniel knew people were watching, but he didn't care. He might as well pack up his things and leave now, before they fired him. And yet, he could not find it in himself to be sorry for punching Jack in the jaw, as much as it hurt his hand, the vicious glee at the blood on Jack's lip was a siren song to Daniel's agonized heart. "So help me God, Jack, if you ever talk about my wife again I'll kill you," Daniel snarled, fury in his every line. "You could never *possibly* understand what I've been through, so don't give me any of your sanctimonious bullshit over how I should 'get over my grief' and how I never had 'any hope of finding her'. Fuck you, Jack."

If it had been anyone but Daniel, he'd have flattened them.

As it was, Jack was very, very hard pressed to make sense out of anything Daniel had just said. "Fuck you too, Daniel," Jack said quietly. "You want to talk sanctimony? Let's think of how many times you've been so goddamned sure you knew what was right for me. Let's talk about Abydos, how you were so goddamned sure that I needed to get over Charlie's death and what it had done to me, my wife, my marriage, my *life.* You were so goddamned hot to offer unwanted advice then, and the most annoying fucking thing about it was that you were right. And so am I. We both know it. And fuck you if you can dish it out but not take it." Another quiet pause. "Fuck you for ever coming back through that Gate, Daniel Jackson, and fuck you for coming back into my life." Jack cracked his jaw again. "You don't want me to mention Shau're again? Fine. I won't. Go hide in your lab behind your books, and every time you look at them, I hope you remember how good it felt to fuck up against them, because honestly, Daniel, you're punishing yourself for being happy and I'm not going to be a part of it." He knew a bruise was going to form on his jaw and he really didn't care. "Go see Janet. She needs to draw blood and have her look at your hand and make sure it's not broken."

Daniel knew screwing with associates was a bad idea. He'd known that for years, when Sarah came into his life. He'd learned his lesson long ago, but apparently not good enough. Just like he'd lost his high standing at the Oriental Institute, he would lose SG1 here, delegated to a desk job because he and Jack had fucked -- because the aliens made them do it -- and there was no coming back from that. Ever.

He'd known this would end in flames. He *knew* it. But he was so angry right now that he couldn't voice it, couldn't speak it, and instead whirled on his heel. He had no intention of going to see Janet, or going to give blood, or anything else. He was going to go to his office and push his mind into his work where it belonged, and forget about pleasure, or need, or another human body close to his own. He couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't screw his life up again because he had needs, and maybe it was cowardly, and maybe it was stupid, and maybe, as Jack had said, he was hiding behind them and punishing himself for being happy. But Jack had gotten to have a wonderful childhood, a career, a family. Jack had gotten everything Daniel had been denied, and he could talk about punishment and happiness because he'd experienced both throughout his life. Daniel had led a life of rejection, pain and death, a brilliant mind amidst the sludge of his emotions. Flashes of joy, extinguished before they could fan into a flame.

Daniel knew grief in ways men were never supposed to know, agony in ways so many others had cracked under. Jack didn't. He had no idea.

He'd been safe. Jack had been his friend; he'd had SG1, his work, his life. Now all so helplessly detroyed by his rampaging hormones.

Jack just blinked. "Go. Infirmary. Now. Or so help me, Daniel, I'll have the SFs take you down there, tantrums aside." Because he didn't trust himself to lay hands on Daniel at the moment. If he did, he wasn't sure that he wouldn't inflict bodily harm on him. "Once Janet has a look at you..." A sigh. "I don't care what you do."

Daniel didn't say a word, just swiped his card and left on the elevator.

"Go," Jack said, snapping his fingers at the SFs who had come up behind him. "I'm fine. Take him down to the infirmary, and if he argues, drag him. Dr. Frasier wanted blood samples; make sure she gets them. After that, escort him to quarters."

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