Part 49
Daniel used his shoulder to push open the doors of 1152 Mainland Street so that he could enter the foyer of his apartment building. It had been a week since Jack's return to the Stargate program and since that time, the group had been off world three times. All three times were just recon missions, lasting a few hours, where they found nothing more exciting than some unusual floral samples and some interesting ruins of a civilization that looked long gone - leaving nothing behind for Daniel to explore. While it had been the perfect first week back for Jack - a slow reintegration into gate travel - it had been dull for the archaeologist within Daniel. Now the team was on a two-day stand down so he decided to stop off and buy some groceries before heading home - with the strict intention to not steep foot outside his apartment unless it was onto his balcony.
Jostling the bags of groceries in his arms, he pressed the button on the elevator to take him to the eighth floor. As soon as the doors slid open he stepped inside, placed the heavy bundles down and was straightening up as the doors started to close. Before they did, a hand came in to stop them and they reopened, revealing Todd.
"Oh," Daniel said as he recognized the man dressed in the black business suit. Todd smiled politely as he entered the elevator then he turned and pressed the number ten button.
They were in awkward silence for a moment then Daniel reached down to pick up his bags.
"How have you been?" Todd asked, watching the bowed man.
"Ah.. good... " Daniel said, hefting a bag into his arms as he pressed his glasses back into place upon his nose. "Good... Err.. you?" The blond head tilted slightly as Daniel forced a smile to his lips.
"Busy. Working.." Todd said as he leaned down and collected up the other bag for Daniel. He passed it over to the surprised man moments before the doors open onto the eighth floor.
"Good.." Daniel said as he stepped out. He looked back briefly as the doors closed behind him then he sighed and walked down the corridor to his apartment.
As he juggled the bags at his door he heard a soft voice behind him. Todd stepped into view.
"This fell out of one of your bags," he said, holding out a tub of lotion. Daniel flushed slightly then nodded, indicating with his chin for Todd to put it in the bag.
"Thanks," he said as the door opened. Todd looked into the apartment then back at Daniel.
"Pleasure.." he said, his eyes darting over the handsome face. "Have you, um, heard much about Philip lately?"
Daniel's brow rose in surprise. "You haven't?"
"No. He... seems to have lost my phone number."
"Oh.." Daniel formed the word with his lips slowly then tilted his head slightly as he made a noise in his cheek. "I'm sorry about that."
"Last time I saw him was.. last week when he came into the library and told me about his inheritance..."
Daniel nodded but gave no comment.
Todd, realizing he wasn't going to get any information out of the anthropologist, shrugged as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Listen, if you happen to see him... tell him.. I'd like to catch up sometime.."
Daniel nodded. "Sure. I'll tell him."
Todd took a step back as he nodded also. "Thanks."
Turning quickly, Daniel went into his apartment, leaving the librarian in the corridor.
*
Jack entered his house and immediately sensed Phil was in the living room, even though he couldn't hear or see him. Putting his jacket on the hook behind the door he shook off the snow from his collar as he came to stand on the top step to watch the man dancing by the fireside. The once lithe body moved stiffly, and Jack could sense the pain associated with each sway. Still, the shirttails shimmied across the back of the black thighs as Phil lost himself in the unheard music within the headset he was wearing. Then Jack looked past him to the painting he was creating on the easel in the corner.
It saddened him that his lover's illness was affecting his talent as well as his body. Phil's hands now constantly quivered - not enough to stop him from using them in most every-day tasks, just enough so that he couldn't do many fine motor skills like thread a needle with cotton, write in a neat cursive or sketch using a pencil or piece of charcoal.
So, in desperation, the young artist turned to his less-favorite hobby of painting - in expressionist form - so that mistakes and shakes weren't so obvious on the canvas. Paints, he told Jack, were more forgiving than charcoal or pencil, and you could hide errors more easily in the lush, thick texture of paint than you could with the stroke of a finely tipped pencil.
With some of his newfound wealth, Philip purchased himself enough supplies to last him for months and Jack suggested that he organize the basement, gutting it out for Philip to commandeer as a studio. But the younger man told him he'd never use it - not anymore. Instead he had a permanent easel set up in the living room over by the large window. Here Philip stood and painted, or perched himself on the cushion covered stool and painted, while a roaring fire crackled beside him and snow mounted on the windowsills outside.
Jack scanned the painting that Philip was now working on as he wriggled to the music. Though the images were still there they were muted, buried under heavy dark strokes. Jack wasn't sure if it was Phil's moods that had made all the colors ruddy or his slowly growing inability to judge the subtleties of colors due to his failing eyesight. He'd watched him bump into enough corners, complain about the dimness of lights around the house or comment on the darkness of a video as they lay together watching it this past week alone not to know that what Philip saw these days was not as clear as he used to. He wasn't sure if the younger man was even aware of the changes, and he wasn't about to draw it to his attention.
Jack stepped down into the living room now with the intention of catching his lover unaware in an unexpected cuddle. He didn't need to worry that his booted feet would give away his presence because even from that distance he could easily hear the music within the headset - and marveled how the young man hadn't actually gone deaf because of the level of volume he'd listen to his music at.
So it was with perfect surprise that he captured the wriggling body in his arms, gaining a squeal of surprise and delight from his unsuspecting lover. The two bodies swayed to the music as Philip eased one of the earpieces off and rested it behind his ear. He laughed as he looked back over his shoulder at his surprise visitor.
"Surprise," Jack mumbled before pressing his lips against Phil's waiting ones. Their kiss was tender and slow, accentuated by the gentle rocking of the bodies to the beat of the music in the headset. Phil reached one arm back and around Jack's head as he parted his lips - but the kiss remained tongue-less. The song 'Air that I breathe' could faintly be heard as they kissed, while Jack's hands ran up and down the front of the stretched body and Phil arched to reach up behind his head. As they surrendered the other's mouth Philip turned to finally face his lover.
"Hello gorgeous!" The artist pressed two fingers against Jack's reddened lips then fluttered his dark lashes as he looked up into the brown eyes. Going onto his tip-toes, Phil stretched up along the taller body, wrapping his arms tightly around Jack's neck until the base of the gray head was cradled in the crook of his arms.
"You look pretty damn good from back there!" Jack said, nudging his nose against Philip's.
"Were you watching me again?" The caressed man asked with a smile.
"I like to watch," Jack whispered hiskily as he brushed his lips over the curve to Phil's cheek, his nose pressing lightly into the corner of the cimmerian eye.
"There's names for men like you.." Philip whispered back in a deep groan.
"Yeah? Go on! Tell me. What are they called?" Jack asked as he pressed his mouth over Philip's once more.
"Dirty old men!" Philip laughed as soon as he could speak. He lowered himself down onto his flat foot and captured Jack's face between his hands now.
A lascivious grin lit Jack's face. "Cool." He reached up and grabbed both of Phil's hands then placed a kiss onto each palm as he asked, "So, how did things go at the hospital with the follow up?" He was checking about the day visit to the hospital that Philip had that day.
"Oh, you know." The younger man stepped back now and removed the headset completely before he switched off the player beside him. "Same old, same old. ECG's, EEG's...... Usual stuff....."
Jack sensed that there was something Philip wasn't being totally honest about. "Blood tests?"
"Yup." The artist lifted his sleeve and Jack saw the ravaged black veins under the paper-thin skin.
Nodding, the older man asked, pointedly, "And, so, everything went well?"
"No miracle today," Phil joked then screwed up his small nose when Jack gave him a dull stare in return. "I'm as well as can be expected, so the doc says," he told him as he placed the cord of the headset onto the c.d. player. Then turning and changing the subject, Philip slipped his arms around the sturdy waist as he asked, "And how was you day at work, Dear?"
Jack was pleased to hear the joke in Phil's tone. He knew well enough that if there were a real problem, Philip would tell him.
"Good, but where's my beer?" he returned jovially, making Philip laugh until he coughed.
"In the fridge, get it yourself," the younger man said, fisting his hand and holding it in front of his mouth as he coughed some more.
"So what's this?" Jack asked, jutting his chin towards the painting.
"A big mess.." Phil sighed as he knelt one knee onto his stool and picked up the brush, dabbling at the drying paint unenthusiastically.
Jack ran his hand up and down Phil's back as he carefully looked over the painting.
"What do you think it is?" Phil asked him.
"Ummmm..." Jack wished he'd never asked now. "An abstract?"
Philip snorted then said, "Of?"
"Oh," Jack said, squinting his eyes as he pursed his lips together while tilting his head to the side slightly. "Ugh.. it's... it's...a river and some trees.. or something.."
Philip gave a nod as he forced a smile to his lips. He reached up and lowered the cloth over the painting.
"Oh, come on baby, don't be like that!" Jack cringed. Philip started coughing again as he slipped himself off the stool to go and pick up his cold cup of tea. Cradling the mug in both hands he gazed into Jack's brown eyes.
The older man cringed internally once more. "You know I don't get abstract..."
"What's to get? Either you see something in the painting or you don't," Philip said, his calm tone hiding his disappointment well.
"Well, you know.. I just don't do obtuse..." Jack said, with a casual shrug.
Philip fought the smile burgeoning on his lips now as he ducked his face and muttered, "You do it very well.."
"Yeah, well," Jack started then realized he'd been insulted. "Hey!"
Philip laughed loudly now; the sound was like a crack of thunder as he began to cough violently once more. As soon as he could, he grinned then said, "You want that beer now?"
"Actually, I was thinking of hitting the shower," Jack told him. “I’ve got mud where I shouldn’t have mud.”
“Lucky mud.” Philip grinned as he stepped up against his partner’s body and trailed his finger down the chest to the belt slowly. In a soft, breathy voice, he suggested, "Make it a bath and I'll come in and scrub your back-"
"Ooh.. my back..?" Jack smiled broadly as Phil's finger roamed back up towards his chest.
"And maybe even your hair.." Philip said, with a wanton smile.
"My hair, huh? Well, that’s.. that’s quite an offer…”
“Better be the best one you’ve had all day,” the artist laughed suggestively.
“Believe me,” Jack said with a resolute nod, “it is. And if it’s the only offer you’re making..?"
In mock surprise, Phil widened his eyes and said, huskily, “What? You were wanting .. more?”
“Of you? Always,” Jack said, rubbing the spiny back before turning and heading up towards the bathroom.
As he was about to turn the corner he heard Philip call out to him, “I never said what hair I was washing, now, did I?"
Jack stopped and turned to face him. As he screwed his face up and growled suggestively as he said, "You tease!"
The younger man chuckled to himself as he pressed on the kitchen door and went in while Jack went to the bedroom to change.
*
By the time Philip reached the bathroom with two beers the water was already running into the bath. Jack had obviously added some scent as the room was filled with a woody scent that Philip instantly recognized as the bath oil he’d given him at Christmas time. Putting the cold bottles on the edge of the tub, he turned and leaned against the doorframe, watching the man in the next room undress.
Unaware he was being observed Jack set about stripping himself down for the bath. He undid his watch first, and laid it on the side table. Then he stepped on the backs of his boots and tugged them off his feet. Sitting on the bed he pulled off his socks and rolled them into a ball before ditching them across the room and into their laundry basket behind the door. Then he stood, undoing his belt as he walked over to the drawers and pulled out a clean pair of pajamas for himself. He unfastened his belt, button and zipper and slipped the pants down his legs, stepping out of them and folding them neatly before hooking them over the valet in the corner of the room. Philip sighed loudly at the sight of his naked lover and only then did Jack look up and realize he was being watched.
"Good show?"
A smirk filled the young face. "The best." Ducking back into the bathroom, Philip then set about lighting all the candles around the bath, before switching off the overhead light.
Jack now appeared in the doorway, a white towel clasped around his waist, his dog tags the only other thing on him. "Oh." He smiled approvingly at the room.
Philip smiled back and reached down to pick up the bottle then he carefully straightened up - under the watchful gaze of his concerned lover.
"Is your back okay?" Jack asked, lightly resting one hand on the small of Phil's back as he took the offered bottle.
"Yeah." The aching man returned a slight smile. "I'm just a little achy today.." He clinked his bottle against Jack's then downed a long mouthful of beer. Jack also sipped at his drink, but kept a careful eye on his partner, seeing all the little flickers of discomfort across Phil’s features each time he twisted or bent forward to put down his drink and light the last of the candles.
Stepping in behind him, Jack ran his hands down the length of Phil's spine, eliciting soft moans of enjoyment from the younger man. "You've been a little achy all week. Aren't the painkillers working?"
"I'm trying to cut down on them," Phil said with a soft moan as Jack's fingers kneaded his sore back gently.
"If you need them, take them!" Jack said, kissing the side of Phil's throat.
"Yes, Mom," Phil chuckled then turned to look into the dark eyes. "Mind if I join you in the bath?"
"Always room in my bath for one more," Jack told him as he smoothed his hands out along the narrow shoulders.
With a soft chuckle, Phil said, "So long as I'm always that one!"
"That's a given," the older man returned as he slowly began to unfasten the buttons on Phil's shirt.
While he undressed him, Philip untucked the towel that was wrapped around Jack's waist. The towel wafted to the ground and a grin split the cheeky young man's face; "Whoops!"
"Yeah, whoops," Jack said in a deep growl then almost purred as Phil ran his hands down the naked torso and onto the softened groin.
The two naked men got into the bath - this time Philip sat behind and wrapped his legs around Jack's waist, resting his feet between the splayed thighs. While Jack lay there - soaking up the warmth of the water and drinking his beer - Philip lightly massaged his shoulders and upper arms, as he pressed his cheek just behind Jack's left ear.
"I had that dream again last night," the young man whispered sadly. Jack tilted his head back as he rubbed the wet legs around his waist.
"I'm fine, baby! You really need to stop worrying about me!"
Since Jack's return to work earlier that week, Philip had been having bad nightmares where Jack was on a mission and he couldn't come home. Sometimes in the dream Philip died, but every time Jack was trapped in a cell and couldn't get back home.
"I can't help it. I tell myself to stop worrying, but what can you do? It's a dream..."
"I'll be okay, baby." He reassured him as he rubbed his hand over the sharp shinbone across his thigh.
There was a soft inhale of breath behind him, then Phil confessed, "I just .. I .. can't lose you.."
Jack twisted his neck even further to look at him as best he could. "You won't!"
Philip's eyes squinted momentarily and Jack knew he was being summed up in that precise moment. There was still something in Phil's eyes that clearly told Jack he didn't believe him but trusted him regardless of that fact. With a nod, the younger man seemed o pull himself out of his moment and pressed back against the edge of the bath to carry on with his massage.
"I'm glad you're back at work though," he told Jack truthfully. "I'm glad the results really did clear you and that you can get out from behind that desk again. I'm *not* glad - however - that you're back in the line of fire.." He inhaled a deep breath through his nose as he closed his eyes and listened to the soft lapping of water for a moment while enjoying his lover's caress. "But," he went on, reopening his eyes and hugging the man in front of him as he nibbled gently on his ear, "but you need this, I know that much. You'd... you'd just go crazy sitting around here - waiting.."
The water sloshed quietly as Jack's hand passed over the limbs in his lap. "Spending time with you wasn't just sitting around waiting, you know!"
Philip shrugged then he gave a smile as his fingers lazily tangled with the tiny curls on Jack's chest. "I know. But you love you job."
Jack's heart twanged as he listened to the sadness in his lover's voice. After all, Phil loved his job and lost it - cruelly - just like he was losing everything he held dear to him in life. Suddenly Jack knew it wasn't him Philip was referring to when he spoke of going crazy as he sat around and waited for the inevitable, but himself.
"Why don't you do something?" The older man offered hopefully, trying to brighten the downward spiral Phil's mood seemed to suddenly be taking. "You've got the money now."
With a derisive snort, the young man picked up his bottle and took a few long, loud gulps of the bitter liquid. He finally asked, "Like what?"
"I don't know," Jack said, with a shrug. They remained in silence a few moments, both drinking their beer then suddenly Jack came out with; "I know! Why don’t you rent an empty shop in town, fill it with your artwork and sell it - just for the fun of it? Personally, I'm sure it would sell like that!" Jack clicked his fingers.
"Sell my work?" Phil stopped nibbling on the ear and rubbed his cheek against the short hair instead.
"Sure! But with the money you have, what's it matter if it doesn't sell?"
For a moment a smile twitched on Phil's mouth as he rubbed his lips lightly against Jack's hair. With his mouth against the silver strands, he murmured, "You didn't mean that the way it sounded, did you?"
Jack thought about what he'd said then cringed. "You know what I meant.."
"I know," Philip said solemnly and kissed Jack's ear lightly. "But, there's not enough time." His voice was unsure - a little tremor inflected the words as he carefully squeezed Jack in his tight embrace.
Jack rubbed the bony knee then down the front of Phil's shin once more. "Course there is..." He said, closing his eyes as Phil's hands lightly caressed his shoulders.
There was silence, and then the voice from behind confessed, cautiously, "No, there's not."
Jack took a moment then sat up, turning to almost kneel in the bath to look at Philip. "What's happened?" He heard the fear in his own voice when he saw the strained look on Phil's face now.
The young man swallowed hard then looked down as he said, "I lied to you.... a little.. earlier.."
"About?" Jack frowned.
"The results at the hospital weren't all .. good..." Phil admitted in a low voice. Jack cupped his hand under the lowered face and lifted it.
"What?"
Blinking quickly Phil gently pulled his face from Jack's hand then lowered his eyes once more.
"My meds have failed," He said, fighting to keep the tremor from his voice as he lifted his eyes to lock with Jack's "Again."
"Oh, Jesus!" Jack sighed then scooted a little closer.
Phil tried to force a smile to his mouth but his lips quivered so he looked away instead. Resting his elbow on the side of the bath, he pressed his mouth against his hand as he stared at the reflection of the flames in the mirror. He sniffed loudly, sucking back on the tears lodged in his throat and nose as he willed himself to concentrate on the flickering flame by the mirror.
Jack bit his lips together as he moved even closer to the distressed man, engulfing him in his arms and kissing the side of his face repeatedly.
"My Viral Load was way down there," the young man said in a trembling voice. Jack whispered quiet words then kissed Phil's cheek again.
"What's Janet going to do about this?"
With a shrug, Phil blinked away his tears then said, "Increase the meds.."
"So there's room to move, I mean, you're not at the end of the rope yet?"
Sucking in a deep breath through his nose, Phil said, "I guess that depends on which rope you're referring to.."
"Baby.. no.. don't give up.."
Screwing his face up, Phil said, "What's the point, Jack...?" Fear peered through the watery black eyes. Jack's heart clefted at the sight of Philip - usually so strong and determined, now reduced to a crying mess. "What's the point.." he murmured through his tears as he stared at the cooling water.
“Us. We're the point!" Jack said, cupping the side of the downcast face. "Hold on for me.."
Blinking as he looked up, Phil smiled sadly. "You're the only reason I'm holding on."
"Good!" Jack said, wrapping his arms around his shivering lover. "Come on, let's get you out of this bath."
He got up and then held out a towel, wrapping Philip in it then leading him to the bedroom. He left him sitting on the edge of the bed when he went to find him some clean underwear and pajamas to wear to bed. He quickly wrapped a towel around his own waist then came back to dress Philip.
"You know that game you like to play..." He asked as he busied himself with the gentle patting to dry Phil’s sensitive skin.
"What game?" Philip asked dully.
"The 'what are you scared of?' one.." Jack said, stopping momentarily to look up into the dark eyes.
"Oh. Yeah?" It wasn't really a game, but Philip knew what Jack meant.
"Let's play it." Jack sat back onto one heel as he leaned his elbow against his bended knee. "What are you scared of?"
Philip took a while to consider this, and then he confessed, "I'm scared of leaving you.... I'm scared of leaving you and Graham.. Not of dying, but of not having you with me... Having to take that last step- I guess - all alone..."
Jack swallowed then nodded. "Okay.."
Now it was Philip's turn to ask, "What are you scared of?"
Without having to think about it, Jack said, "Of having to let you take that step alone.."
Philip smiled, this time for real. He reached out and cupped the base of the gray head.
"I know you'll be with me.."
"I will."
"Only you. No one else.. and I want to die here, Jack. Is that possible?"
Blinking then taking in a deep breath to calm the jitters cascading throughout him at the moment, Jack mutely nodded.
"But I won't - if it will make it hard for you to be here afterwards..."
"I'll be fine.." Jack assured him, his voice tighter than he wanted it to be.
"Okay. If you're sure?" Philip asked sincerely.
Jack nodded then he inhaled deeply and suggested, "Why don't we order a pizza and just veg out on the bed watching some television for the rest of the night?"
Philip smiled weakly, but his eyes twinkled with it.
"Sound wonderful."
<end of part 49>
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.