Part 12
Ten minutes? Jack expected him to be up and out in ten minutes? Daniel grumbled under his breath as he flung his bedding back and sat on the edge of the mattress, his head in his hands. He didn't sleep well last night. Perhaps it was too many beers, considering he didn't even really like the stuff, but he kept waking up in cold sweats, his heart racing and his mind a jumbled blur of faces and images. The dream was foreboding - he recalled feeling confused and ... and scared. There was nothing he could pinpoint though. Nothing tangible about the dream to show him what it was that he was so worried about in there. He remembered Jack, Sam and Teal'c in the dream, as well as Graham, but other than that he had no idea what he kept dreaming about each time he fell back asleep. Or why.
Shuffling to his bathroom, he scratched at the back of his long hair, wondering if the time hadn't come to actually get a shorter cut. He looked at his reflection, muttered something about not being at his best first thing in the morning as he dragged his fingers across his cheek then down his throat before he reached over and switched on the shower.
*
When he entered the bar at the side of Shrivers Jack was already there, sitting in the corner, drinking beer. Daniel's stomach turned at the mere sight of the amble fluid. Jack looked over and Daniel indicated that he was going to the bar. Jack nodded then looked back out of the window. From that angle, Daniel was sure Jack could see the front steps of the library.
With his lemon soda he came across and stood at the table, pausing to put his wallet into his back pocket. All the time he watched the top of the gray head, and was surprised when Jack turned to look at him, but instead of directly meeting his eyes the colonel took his time in running his gaze up the length of Daniel's body until their eyes met.
"You gonna stand there all day?" Jack asked quietly. Daniel finished tucking his wallet away and sat down.
"How many of those have you had?" he asked, indicating to the three empty beer glasses on the table and the half-full one encased in Jack's hand.
"They're not all mine. They were here when I got here," the older man said, turning to look out of the window again. Mumbling gruffly, Jack added, "Though, in the time I've waited..."
"Hey!" Daniel lowered his glass from his mouth as he wiped his lip quickly. "I was in bed when you called!"
Jack snapped his attention to his friend. "In bed?"
"Yeah," Daniel said with a nod. "I think I did well to be here in.." He checked his watch- "Twenty minutes.."
Jack waited until the fiery blue eyes met his then he shrugged slightly and said, "Thanks."
Daniel noted the genuine appreciation then shrugged as well.
"No, I mean that, Daniel," Jack said, shifting to sit forward in his seat. Both men were sitting closer now, and Jack looked down at the hand nervously twitching on the table between them. He lifted his eyes and stared straight into Daniel's.
They were silent a long moment then Daniel shifted back away as he said, "I was having a nightmare, you did me a favor." He blinked quickly as he looked away and took a gulp of his drink. Jack remained watching him.
"About?" He asked after a few moments. Daniel's head snapped back to look at him.
"I.. Ugh, I'm not sure. Just one of those.." He lifted his hand to the side of his face and shook it rapidly as he said, "crazy dreams you get from time to time, you know?"
But by the look in the other man's eyes, Jack wasn't going to be so easily dismissed. Daniel pursed his lips then shrugged as he looked down, but said nothing.
"Anything you need to talk about? Get off your chest?" Jack asked casually, as he lifted his beer to his lips.
Daniel looked at him side-on then looked away quickly as he shrugged once more and said, "No, not that I'm aware of."
Jack nodded slowly then folded his arms on the table and leaned forward, coming closer to his companion once more. So close that Daniel could smell the beer on his breath.
"Sure?"
The anthropologist blinked and lowered his eyes.
"Because this is a once-only offer," Jack became flippant again as he sat back and when Daniel looked at him he saw he was smiling brightly, "So you have five.. four... three..." He paused when he heard Daniel's laughter. "Two.. One."
He smiled.
Daniel rubbed his thumb along his unshaven jaw then shrugged. "Damn, missed an opportunity there, didn't I?"
Jack's smile faded slightly and he looked down at the paper coaster he was fiddling with as he muttered, "For you, the offer's always there.." He blinked and looked up. Daniel met the sincere gaze. "Anytime," Jack added.
The younger man nodded. "Thanks, Jack."
*
Philip stood at his easel by the window in his office and listened to the soft strains of Queen's 'Who wants to live forever' as he sketched Jack's face on the pad before him. He immersed himself in the magnificent voice of Freddie Mercury, allowing the richness and depth of it to carry him a finger's breath above the ground, suspended in a feeling of euphoria, while he lost himself in the edges of the dark eyes before him. He needed to lose himself too. The past twelve hours had not been kind to him.
After struggling to get Jack into bed and falling into a fitful sleep himself, he over slept, making himself late for work. He had to walk in as well, which took just under a half an hour and then when he finally got in, instead of greeting him with his usual cheer, Todd simply glared at him from behind the front counter and didn't come to the office, which was his usual practice. Phil didn't have time to think about that though as the minute he dropped his bag under his desk his phone rang. It was a call from Head Office, and it had not been good news!
The Head Librarian was pulled over the coals about complaints filtered back to the main office regarding the state of the library and its cataloguing system. He listened to the tirade, which went through a gamut of criticisms about Philip's ability to run such an establishment. Travers, the man at the other end of the line doing all the yelling, was blatant about his opinion that Philip was too young to hold such a position of responsibility and that it seemed obvious now to him, and to others, that it was really Elise that kept the library in check while he got the huge pay-packet for it. The young man was too shattered to respond. He quietly accepted the reprimand and agreed that he would fly to the Head Office next month to review the situation. His hand shook as he replaced the receiver and then he doubled over in his chair, face in his hands, as he gave into the blinding headache that stabbed through his head now. He reached out without looking and was about to call Todd into his office when he pulled his hand back and re-covered his face as his head began to throb mercilessly. Doubling over even more, he shifted his hands and gripped the back of his head, tugging on it to relieve the pressure building up in his neck and shoulders.
Suddenly he sat back in his chair, convulsing now as his whole body became wracked with a coughing fit. In need of his medical inhaler and some pain killers he reached for his drawer and realized it was locked - the key in his other pants. He cursed himself under his breath as he got up and started the breathing exercises that Janet had taught him. Slowly, very slowly, his breathing came under control but he would still erupt with a cough every now and then. Still, he was breathing normally again and that was a start.
He decided that before he could face Sylvia or Todd about the phone call he needed to take time to get rid of the headache and to just calm himself down. Right now he felt like throwing the whole job in. Telling them all to go to hell! He wondered why he was still there anyway. With what he assumed was merely months to live, why on earth was he wasting his time on working?
He took a deep breath then looked around the room - and he instantly knew why! This was his office. His space. Everything in this ornate, over cluttered office was 'his'. Slowly he'd built this room up from the empty shell that it was into what it was now. He brought in books here and there, placed potted plants to add color, and incorporated his sculptures and paintings to mark this territory as his own. With so much of him in the office it was no wonder he felt at 'home' there.
Walking into the center of the room, he looked down at the Persian rug under his feet then he looked up at the gold sofa, cluttered with white and gold tasseled cushions. How many nights had he slept on that sofa? Too many! He smiled and drew back a slightly deeper breath. Sometimes those nights were spent with Jack, but only in the very early stages of their relationship - when they were too impatient to wait until they made it home!
He went to his table in the corner and picked up the small sculpture there. It was one of the first he'd ever made while he worked there and with Elise's insistence he'd placed some others out on display around the reading area of the library. He smiled sadly to himself again. He missed Elise. Missed her guidance and help, and her care. Perhaps Travers was right. Perhaps she did hold the library together? Philip dismissed that self-doubt quickly though. He'd worked too hard to make this place 'his' to let some snot-head at Head Office give all the credit where it wasn't due! He'd be sure to address Travers on that very issue next month when he went there! Next month...
He sucked back another deep breath, his headache was settling now and his lungs no longer clamped on him. He went over and locked his door then called Todd, telling him that he didn't want to be disturbed. He found it a little odd that all his friend said was 'Sure' and didn't hound him on it, but he didn't give it anymore thought as he hung up and switched on his CD player.
The sound of Queen's 'It's a kind of Magic' flowed from the speakers and Philip went over to his window, allowing the rich voice to waft over him. Apart from the mightiness of Freddy Mercury's voice, that never ceased to send shivers down Phil's spine whenever he heard it, the young man also felt a certain kinship with the singer - after all, they were both artists!
By the time the third track had started up he'd begun to think about Jack again. The song, 'One year of love' summed up their relationship so beautifully, he realized now - but he'd never thought about it before. His mind wandered onto his lover. Closing his eyes he could see Jack's smile, hear his laughter, feel his touch. He ran his hand along his own arm but remembered many times when Jack ouched him like that. They'd be in Phil's favorite position, Jack cuddled in behind him, and the older man's hand would gently rub Phil's upper arm as they remained entwined together, just talking or after they'd had sex...
His skin almost tingled as he recalled the sensation of Jack's breath on the back of his ear. He moved over to his shelf where he kept his paints and pencils and cleaning cloths for all his artwork and quickly gathered up the pastels he would need to recreate his love's face. He flipped over the page on the pad on the easel and, with the incredible voice around him singing words like:
'Just one year of love ..
is better than a lifetime alone.
One sentimental moment in your arms..
is like a shooting start right through my heart...'
Philip began to sketch Jack from memory. His rapid strokes, deftly finding their mark and placing just the right depth of shade to the 'skin' before him, blurred his hand across the page as the image of the colonel's face materialized before him. The song ended and the next one began, but Phil's inspiration remained.
Every now and then his movements would cease and he'd remember to blink again. He'd touch his thumb edge to the corner of the slightly squinted eye, caught in the moment of a rare smile, and he'd brush away any excess color that marred the otherwise perfect reflection of his love's face. He would occasionally step back from the easel, stretching out his back and shoulders and flexing his hands, even rewarding them with a quick relaxing shake.
Now, with the languid strains of 'Who wants to live forever' swirling around him like a soft breeze he stood before his work with his hands on his hips and his head tilted to the left, lengthening the muscles in his right shoulder to relieve the tension. Instinctually he smiled at the man looking back at him from the smooth surface.
Jack was his favorite model. Not just because he was in love with him, but also because the older man's face provided him an interesting challenge. Capturing the life in his face, the soul in his eyes and the heart in his smile - that was always something Philip worked towards whenever he sat down to draw his lover. He stepped closer to the stool, blindly raising his knee to rest on its top as he reached forward with his hand to touch the slightly turned up mouth. He felt confident that he'd captured one of Jack's laconic grins, the sort that always had him smiling too. As he reached out to touch the pastel colored face he saw his own hand for the first time in a long time.
He frowned then compared his hand to the face on the paper. He stared at his skin; compared to the smooth plains of Jack's face his hand looked 'leathery', old even. He noticed, for the first time too, how small brown marks had appeared on the surface. The fingers looked longer, more sinewy, as the skin grew tighter over the bones. He twisted his hand, looking at the blue veins running under the surface at his wrist. He thought about the blood that they contained - how contaminated it was - how poisonous it was. How, with every pulse, it was delivering a death sentence to every cell and every fiber of his being. He caught a ragged breath then blew it out loudly.
He looked back at the face on the sketchpad. He moved his hand slowly so that it almost looked like he was about to cup the side of his lover's face - if in fact he had a side to cup. His thumb brushed the high cheekbone, tenderly caressing it as he marveled at how good-looking Jack was. He couldn't help but smile as he went on touching the two-dimensional drawing like it was his love's real face. As gorgeous as Jack was these days, Philip did wonder what he would have looked like when he was younger. He'd found only one photo of him, taken at the time of Charlie's birth, but the man was looking down, his eyes firmly on the small bundle in his hands. The smile melted Philip's heart but the picture did nothing to show him what a younger 'Jack O'Neill' looked like. With his high cheek bones, his long, lean face and his long throat, Philip wondered if anyone as stunning as Jack would have been would have given someone like him the time of day back then? He was sure Jack could have had his pick of eligible people, both male and female, and he was pretty certain that he would 'not' have turned Jack's head back then.
Now, as an older man - as a man who was confused, unloved and desperate for affection - Jack had settled for him - even accepting the illness in the process. He wondered if he weren't sick though, would Jack have ever fallen for him? As odd as that sounded.
He checked his watch and saw that it was nearly lunchtime. Maybe Jack would be awake now? He didn't want to wake him any earlier with a call because he knew Jack had been drinking and would need to sleep the effects off. He wiped his hand on his cloth as he moved to the phone. Picking up the receiver he dialed Jack's home number and got the recorded message. He hung up without leaving a message and went back to the window, this time looking out at the grounds below and at the people milling about in the gardens.
*
Jack sat back in his chair, his whole body shaking with laughter as he and Daniel shared a private joke between them. Others in the restaurant turned briefly towards the noise of the two men but paid them no mind really.
Daniel, face pink from laughter and blue eyes brimming with tears, lifted his glasses from his face and wiped under his eyes as he continued to chuckle.
Jack sat forward and picked up his third beer for the day and mumbled something quietly under his breath. His luncheon companion didn't really hear it, but he didn't need too. He knew it was the continuation of their shared joke and that alone made him blurt out loudly once more, sitting over his glass of soda as he laugh uncontrollably. Jack's laughter renewed, as his friend grew more and more red-faced with merriment.
*
There was a soft knock on the office door and Philip called for the visitor to come in. The handle rattled and he remembered that he'd locked the door. He went over to it now and opened it, holding it against his chest so that the caller didn't get the impression they were being invited in.
Todd frowned at his friend. "You okay?" he asked, but not sounding very concerned really. Philip nodded.
"I've just got a few things to sort out," the head librarian said.
"Anything I can help with?"
Phil thought about that a moment then nodded. "Yes, I'm sure it is, but.." He added a small smile, "Just not yet."
"So this is to do with the call from Travers at Head Office?" Todd asked briskly. Phil nodded but said nothing more.
Todd, unused to being barred from his friend's office, looked around the hall he was standing in then at the face peering at him from around the door. "Can I come in?"
"No."
Todd's frown deepened. "Can I ask why?"
"Because." Phil struggled for the right words. "Because right now, I need to be your boss, Todd. Not your friend."
The taller man shook his head. "What the hell is that meant to mean?"
Phil lowered his eyes as he sighed softly. "I'll be calling a meeting with you and Sylvia soon. We'll talk about it then."
"I want to talk about it now!" Todd demanded.
Phil straightened up and looked the other man straight in the eye. "We'll talk about it when I say we'll talk about it."
Todd put his hand on the door to prevent it being shut in his face. "Have I done something wrong?"
Phil shook his head. "I don't know who's done something wrong.. Not me, that much I know. But I'm in charge so it's my duty to do something about it."
"Well you couldn't have done anything wrong," Todd muttered, and Phil said, "I know" over the top of Todd's, "You're never here."
"Sorry?" Phil frowned and stiffened behind the door. "What did you just say?"
Todd's eyes hardened. "Nothing."
"No, what did you just say?" Phil demanded.
Looking along the hall, Todd said, "It's nothing."
"Todd?"
Turning to look at him, the older man said, "Don't! Don't implore me now as a friend!"
"I wasn't. As your BOSS I want to know what you just said."
"Well as my boss, you can damn well wait until the meeting!" He walked away.
Phil chased after him, grabbing him by the arm and twirling him to face him in the hallway.
"What is the matter with you today?" Phil asked. "Ever since I arrived this morning you've been sullen with me?"
"Is this my boss asking, or my friend?" Todd said snidely.
Philip frowned and felt the tension flood right through him again, knotting up his shoulders and neck, and pulsating through his head. "I guess that depends on who you're angry with - your boss or your friend."
Todd was flexing his jaw then he spat out, harshly, "Where in the hell did you go last night?"
"WHAT?"
"I woke up and you were gone! I was worried," Todd said archly, his eyes darting around at the ornate architraves over Phil's head.
"What.. the?? I went home!" Phil cried out then realized how close they were to the reading section of the library, so he lowered his voice.
"He didn't call you!" Todd said.
Phil frowned as he shook his head, ignoring the pain developing near his right eye. "I know that. But I woke up and realized that the arms I was in weren't the arms I *should* have been in!"
Todd flexed his jaw before saying, through slightly clenched teeth, "Well, they were the ones you went to sleep in!"
"What the?" He lowered his voice again. "Todd, if I didn't know better I'd swear you're.."
"Don't even say that!" Todd held his finger up at him. "I'm not. I just went to sleep with you in my arms and woke up cold and alone on the damn rooftop! A note would have been nice!"
Philip snorted. "On what? With what? Should I have scraped it on the polished floorboards with the damn candle? For crying out loud!" He threw his hands in the air as he paced slightly. Suddenly a stabbing pain under his right eye faltered his steps. Ignoring it again, he pointed at his friend and said, "You know, I really don't need this shit! Not today! Not with the damn Head Office breathing down my neck!"
Todd's expression altered slightly but it went nowhere near friendly. "Why?"
Philip shook his head then brought his hand up to his eye and muttered, "Oh, god!" He began to double over and Todd frowned.
"What?" He raced up to him as he watched his friend stumble. Philip held his hand out to keep him away and Todd saw blood on the palm.
"You're bleeding?" Todd exclaimed as he watched Phil try to stem the flow of bright red blood from his nose. "Jesus!" He hurried into to the office to retrieve the box of tissues from the desk and the younger man followed him, meeting him in the doorway. Todd handed him over some tissues then he let Philip clean himself up.
"Come on! You need to sit down!" He said, gently putting his arm around his friend and escorting him to the sofa in the office. He picked up the phone and called Sylvia, telling her that Philip had a nosebleed and that they were both not to be disturbed for a while. Hanging up, he went to the bathroom and wet a washcloth before returning to his friend. Philip took the cold, damp cloth and held it to his face.
"I'm okay," he said through the cloth.
"You're bleeding! How can that be alright?"
"It's tension," Philip muttered, tasting the metallic fluid in his mouth. "Apparently my body deals with tension by bleeding all over the place. Kinda stupid when you think about it-" He sighed and shifted to lie back against the end of the sofa with Todd's help. The other man helped make him comfortable by placing cushions behind his back and one under his head.
"Why's that?" he asked, just for the sake of conversation.
"Because it's my blood that causes me my greatest tension!" Philip laughed derisively as he leaned his head back over the arm of the sofa. Todd sat on the edge of the seat, his hand resting on Philip's legs.
"Maybe you should go home," he said.
"I can't. Travers made it painfully clear that I'm being watched - closely. You yourself said it, I'm hardly ever here!"
The older man screwed up his face as he sighed. "Babe, you know I said that in the heat of the moment. I'm sorry. I had no idea you were under this kind of pressure!"
Philip's heavy eyes lulled closed slowly then he shrugged. "Maybe Travers is right. Maybe I'm too damn young for this job!"
Todd frowned. "He said that?"
Philip nodded then settled into the sofa more. "Basically."
"Well, he's a bastard then. He's no idea. You're not too young.."
"Todd, there's stuff going on here that I don't think you're aware of," Phil said quietly.
"Like?" Todd frowned.
"Like..stuff. I can't talk about it at the moment, but I will.." He closed his eyes slowly. "I'm so damn tired!"
"I'm putting you in a taxi and I'm sending you home!"
"No," Phil muttered, opening his eyes slowly. Todd was about to tell him to not argue with him when he said, "Send me to Jack's place."
Todd looked at his friend a long moment then placed the call.
*
Daniel was watching Jack watching the steps of the library. He wondered what was going on inside Jack's mind at the moment. He'd never seen his friend so afraid of 'battle' and knew that that was what Jack saw him and Phil leading up to. Daniel told him that he couldn't go on ignoring the problems between them but Jack was reluctant to confront Philip either, saying that with the illness the last thing the kid needed was confrontation. Daniel disagreed, telling Jack that Philip needed to know that Jack was still in there fighting for him.
He pushed his finished meal away then sat back, wiping his mouth with his napkin.
"So anyway!" He said matter-of-factly, waiting for Jack's attention once more. Slowly the colonel looked his way.
"Sorry?"
"What?" Daniel asked, deliberately obtusely.
"You said something?"
The golden brows arched higher than the brown frames. "Did I?"
"Sure you did." Jack frowned now, wondering if he'd misheard him.
"What did I say?" Daniel asked, tilting his head slightly.
"I don't know!" Jack shrugged then picked up his beer, ignoring the meal that he hadn't touched. Daniel wet his lips and looked down.
"What was it?" Jack asked when Daniel said nothing further.
Again the brows inched up, and the younger man shrugged as he shook his head. "I don't know. Thought you did."
Jack frowned severely now. "Is it me, or is this conversation making no damn sense at all?"
Daniel met his gaze and held it. Slowly he shrugged then drained the last of his drink from his glass.
"Okay, Okay!" Jack held his hand up. "I'm not being much company. I get it now."
"Well..." Daniel shrugged coyly and Jack nodded.
"Right, right. Point taken, space monkey!" He pointed to Daniel's empty glass. "Want another one?"
"No," Daniel said, pushing the glass away as he sat back. "I should go."
"Go where?"
Daniel looked at his friend then said, "Home.”
“Why?”
The surprise was registered by a hitch of the golden brows once more. Daniel's head tilted on the side slightly as he said, “Well, to be honest, I’ve some notes there that need translating-”
“Yeah, your handwriting is kinda hard to read at times..”
“Jack, I was referring to that language we discovered on Pxr565 a few weeks ago.”
Jack's mouth opened with a slight “Ah huh” as he nodded. “I knew that.”
Daniel smiled at his friend as he pressed up to his feet. “So, I’ll do that this afternoon.”
Jack rose to his feet at the same time. “Or, you could come.. back to my place..”
Daniel blinked and looked at him a long moment. “You’re place?”
Jack tilted his head as he gave a slight shrug. “There’s a game on this afternoon. Give you a chance to get your money back?
Daniel gnawed on his bottom lip a moment then shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”
Jack laughed as he said, “The work can wait. We’re on Stand Down. We should be kicking back..”
Daniel muttered as he scratched at the back of his head. “I’m just not used to you kicking back… without Philip..”
Their eyes met and Jack held the gaze a long while. “Phil’s at work,” he said simply. Daniel arched his brow as he twirled on the spot and headed out of the door ahead of Jack.
Stories on this page are the property of Nessessitee and Slida. Please do not copy these without the written permission of the Author. All Rights are acknowledged for MGM, Gekko and Stargate Productions as to the Copyrights of the characters within this story and no infringement on the copyrights are intended. For the Bombshells Series the character of Philip Simmons is entirely the creation and intellectual property of Nessessitee and Slida.
While the performances given by RDA and MS help to fuel the author's desire to write for their characters in a niche that she feels is present on the actual show, the portrayal of their characters in loving relationships in no way reflects the Author's opinion of the men's private life, nor should it be construed in that manner.