A Wonderful, Awful Idea

by Berty

URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/asb/berty/wonderfu.php
Summary: Dr. Seuss, novelty knitwear, tinned pasta products and romance. You have been warned!

The second Jack's eyes lit on the scene in front of Daniel's apartment building, he just knew that his hapless archaeologist was at the root of it.

Disgruntled looking fire-fighters were rolling up hoses and packing away equipment by the rhythmic flashing of their blue lights in the dark, freezing air of a Colorado evening. Nervous bystanders, some already dressed for bed despite the early hour, were addressing questions to a harassed looking chief, assuring themselves that it was safe to return to their homes and thus save the neighbourhood from further exposure to their hideous pyjamas.

Incongruously clutching his holdall, a bag of presents and another of alcohol, Jack joined the throng of milling, inappropriately attired people. "Hey, buddy?" he addressed one of the fire-fighters occupied with scowling and stripping out of his jacket, "What's going on?"

"Some guy up on the eighth floor had a problem with his tree lights."

"Any casualties?" Jack asked quickly; if anyone could find a way to spend Christmas hospitalised, it would be Daniel. Jack knew it wasn't intentional, but somehow if there was crap flying around, Daniel always managed to find it a nice, soft spot to land.

"Well, the tree's a gonner," the man snorted, "But other than that there's no damage. We were already on our way by the time it was dealt with apparently." He scowled again and was getting rather good at it by now.

"Apartment 8-3?" Jack asked with a weary resignation that made the big fire-fighter pause and look at him more closely.

"Yeah," he confirmed. "That where you're headed?"

Jack just nodded and rolled his eyes.

The man stowed his jacket and fixed Jack with an amused grin, taking in the wrapped parcels and bulging bags. "Well you have a Merry Christmas now, you hear?"

Jack returned the smile somewhat sourly and turned towards the building. The bitching of Daniel's fellow tenants as they filed back in did not drown the snuffle of laughter that followed him.

The muttered undercurrent of non-festive feeling was not alleviated when they found that although the alarm was over, the elevators were still disabled and they were faced with a climb to get back to their last minute wrapping.

Jack determined to repeat some of the more choice speculations on Daniel's state of mind, his parentage and his grasp of neighbourly behaviour as he slogged up the cold stairwell - right up until he caught sight of the man himself.

Daniel swung the door open at Jack's first knock, his face a picture of dejection. His cheeks had stripes of soot down them, where Daniel had obviously wiped his fingers, his shoulders were slumped and the whole place smelled of roasted tree sap.

Jack winced in sympathy as he quietly said "Hi."

Daniel just sighed and turned back into his odorous apartment, leaving Jack to shut the front door, hang up his coat, hat and scarf, and deposit his bags in the kitchen. With a thoughtful kindness that only Daniel brought out in him, Jack pulled from the bag a bottle of Daniel's favourite red, opened it and poured two very generous glasses. He carried them into the living room where his young friend was staring at the place where his tree had been, and wordlessly handed one to him.

Jack joined Daniel in the mutual contemplation of the blackened branches of what must have been an impressive Nordman Spruce once. The tree skeleton still smouldered slightly and every now and then, bits of branch or the odd melted bauble would give up the good fight and drop to the floor to join their fallen brethren in the pile of charcoal that had until recently been perfectly wrapped presents.

Jack was amazed that there was so little damage around the desiccated tree, the flooring was untouched and only a singed patch of ceiling marked the spot where the fire had been.

"Must have been a beauty," Jack offered by way of commiseration. "And the extinguisher foam looks kinda like snow... if you screw up your eyes..."

Jack stopped screwing up his eyes when he saw the look of disgust that Daniel aimed at him. He took a hasty sip of wine, noted that Daniel would moan that it wasn't the right temperature, and cast around for something to say.

He was saved by Daniel stalking over to the sofa, throwing himself down and finishing his whole glass of wine in one long, noisy pull. He held it out to Jack for a refill.

"Easy, Daniel, that stuff is expensive..."

The linguist glowered even more but, ominously, said nothing.

"...but you look like a man who needs it, so I'll just go and..." Jack pointed to the kitchen, accepted the empty glass and beat a tactical retreat from jolly Jackson and his nightmare before Christmas.

Jack tried to mentally regroup as he poured the remainder of the bottle into Daniel's glass. Taking a deep breath, he prepared to plaster on a smile and look on the bright side, when the new and interesting aroma blotting out the fried fir tree smell sidetracked him.

With a cautious glance through the smoked glass door, Jack confirmed his worst fears. The smell was dinner and it looked like it was going the same way as the tree had.

"Ummmm, Daniel...?" was all he managed before he was barrelled out of the way by a suddenly dynamic Dr. Jackson wearing oven gloves and a face like thunder.

With a string of expletives that would get him permanently removed from Santa's "Nice" list, Daniel lifted out a tray of blackened...something ...and clattered it onto the counter. He planted his padded palms on the worktop on either side of the offending carbonised dish and closed his eyes, taking deep calming breaths. "Right," he said tightly.

Taking a wooden spoon, he opened the trash-can and began to scrape the roasted lamb and vegetables into the sack. After a couple of fruitless seconds however, it became clear that the pan and the incinerated food LIKED being together, so Daniel tossed the whole lot and quickly followed it up with the spoon and his oven gloves before banging the lid down and stalking from the kitchen in defeat.

Jack reverted to plan A, took more wine to the dejected man slumped on the sofa, and sat down beside him. "We could always go back to my place," Jack offered quietly without looking at his friend. He found that if Daniel was having a bad day, on the whole, it was best to keep your head down; Daniel wasn't a violent man, but some of his put downs would sting for weeks.

"Do you have Christmas dinner at your place? A tree? Presents? Candy canes?" Daniel inquired in a controlled voice. You really knew that Daniel was pissed when he was still, and here he was, arms wrapped tightly around himself, his wine glass in a strangle hold in one hand, his jaw set and totally motionless.

"Not...exactly," Jack admitted cautiously. Too much explanation, too many words and Daniel would garrotte him with them. Too few often annoyed the linguist, but it also gave him less to work with.

"Well, here neither, so it makes no odds," Daniel shrugged, his face stony and sulky.

"Yeah, but my place doesn't smell like..."

Daniel's eyes came up dangerously.

"...never mind. Here's good." Jack toasted him with his wine glass and got acquainted with the contents.

They sat in companionable silence and listened to the dead tree as more of it decided that the floor looked good. Crispy little noises and whispers accompanied each new twig on its way to the parquet flooring.

"I just wanted to do the whole 'Christmas' thing for once," Daniel muttered after one particularly spectacular collapse.

Jack decided to wait it out - if Daniel was talking it was a good sign and it saved him the job of dragging it out of him.

"I never have really embraced the festive season, always too much work to do, no one special to share it with or someone to share with but on the wrong side of the galaxy," Daniel continued with an ironic quirk of his eloquent eyebrows.

Jack never asked about the details of Daniel's childhood; as well as he knew the man, there were some places he didn't venture. He knew Daniel didn't like to share this stuff and he guessed a lot of that came out of his desire not to bring everyone down and give them a reason to pity him, rather than a secretive nature. So Jack heard around Daniel's words to the boy who hadn't been adopted and whose Christmases must have been an annual reminder of what he was missing.

The beginnings of an idea began to nag at the back of Jack's mind.

"Well, it's not Christmas yet," Jack offered.

Daniel turned a soot-smudged face towards him. "It's 10 pm on Christmas Eve, I think that pretty much counts as Christmas."

"It'sh practically here!" Jack exclaimed in his best Jim Carey Grinch voice, and grinned at his friend.

Daniel looked at the colonel blankly, blinking slowly once or twice as Jack's smile faded.

"Look, it doesn't matter - I have another bottle of that red you've just finished, I'm sure there is something educational you're just dying to make me watch...we'll just hang out. It's no biggie."

But Jack could see that to Daniel, it was.

He'd obviously been planning this evening for a while, having asked Jack to share Christmas with him way back in November. He'd bought a tree and decorated it, he'd bought gifts and he'd cooked. This was entertaining on a grand scale for Daniel, who thought moving books to make a space on his sofa for someone constituted a warm welcome.

"I thought this year I'd do it properly. The stupid fiddly dinner, the tree trimmed with tacky lights, presents and someone to..." Daniel trailed off, turning his face back to the charcoal. "Never mind."

Jack guessed that there wasn't too much he could say right now to dissuade his friend that this was the worst Christmas ever, so he decided on practical help instead. He went and found trash sacks and a broom while Daniel manhandled the blackened tree remains out into the hallway.

Jack recognised the signs of an impending full on, top-flight, state of the art Jackson strop. It didn't happen often and it didn't last long, but Daniel was capable of fits of pessimism that put manic-depressives to shame. He decided to head it off at the pass.

"Look, you go and have a nice shower and get changed," Jack offered when his friend slouched back in, muttering. Daniel's eyebrows did the shooting up his forehead thing that Jack liked so much. It was a good day in Jack's book if he managed to make Daniel do that, better if he managed eyebrows AND a scrunched up nose snigger.

Daniel looked down at his shirt and pants that were covered in smuts and black pine needles, seemed somewhat surprised, then nodded and sloped off to the bathroom.

"I'll find us something to eat," Jack called after him, and he heard the bathroom door shut.

The colonel knew he had maybe ten minutes grace in which to complete that plan that had been forming since the second he'd walked in tonight. He tossed back the last of his glass of wine for resolve and clapped his hands together.

"Right," he said determinedly.

Jack had been right. Daniel's black mood had been washed away along with the soot in the long, hot shower he'd indulged in. Daniel felt comfortable enough in Jack's company that he knew the older man would find something to amuse himself for the extra few minutes.

He wiped a corner of the steamed-up mirror and peered at himself. He looked a little pink and bedraggled, but at least he smelled of shampoo now rather than smoke. Giving himself a stern look, he resolved to be merry despite his disastrous attempt at festivity. He had Jack here and ultimately that was all he wanted for Christmas. So they'd have another guys' night in rather than the kind of evening he'd planned.

Daniel had been trying to find a way to subtly let Jack know that his best friend wanted slightly more than that, for months. When his most inviting smiles only got him a ruffle of his hair and his lingering glances were returned with a huge grin or, on occasion, a stuck out tongue, Daniel had despaired of Jack ever looking at him in anything but a purely platonic way.

But then he had begun to notice the colonel looking at him strangely, as if lost in thought. He had noticed how Jack's hand would maintain contact for just a few seconds more than it needed to whenever he touched him. And he began to wonder if maybe it wasn't so hopeless after all.

Daniel had cooked up a plan when Sam had asked him what he was doing for Christmas. She'd twittered on about a romantic meal for two and how Pete loved Christmas, so she was going to buy the biggest tree she could find and con Janet into cooking something she could heat up. Meanwhile, Daniel had visions of twinkly tree lights, a couple bottles of champagne and a happy relaxed colonel on the sofa beside him.

He'd imagined Jack looking at him and finally seeing him.

So that was a bust. No twinkling lights and although the champagne was still chilling, they had nothing to eat with it. Jack was probably out there flicking through the sports channels right now. Daniel smiled, despite himself. Things could definitely be worse.

He dried off and walked, naked into his bedroom. He noticed the brightly wrapped package on his bed immediately. The big purple bow and "Ho, ho, ho" wrapping paper stood out somewhat in his earthy toned room.

He quickly ducked back into the bathroom and re-emerged with a towel wrapped firmly around his middle and his steamy glasses on. Cautiously, he sidled up to the parcel and read the note balanced on top.

Put this on

He glanced nervously around the room, but Jack was nowhere to be seen. He picked up the floppy gift and carefully started to unwrap it, ripping into the purple tissue paper within as he got more into the spirit of it.

Inside was the most outrageous sweater Daniel had ever seen. He'd seen this kind of thing on TV, in cheesy sit-coms but he didn't know they actually existed. The arms were alternate knitted bands of green, red and white and on the chest was a huge reindeer face, complete with red nose and antlers with bells on.

On the nose was a sticker, which invited the lucky new possessor of the garment to "Press here".

Daniel didn't want to know...he really didn't...but he couldn't help himself.

He pressed it.

Sure enough, the squeaky distorted notes of a certain song about a certain ungulate piped out. Daniel was speechless.

"Put it on, Daniel.'

The stunned linguist jumped at the greying head that popped around the door and as quickly disappeared, leaving a lingering grin. Daniel still stood, unsure of the surreal turn this evening was taking. From the living room the opening notes of some kind of music and the smell of cooking filtered around the door.

Daniel's stomach reminded him that he should be sitting down to roast lamb with all the trimmings right now and shuddering only briefly, he pulled on the offensive item, which hung down to his thighs and covered his hands. He dug sweats and thick socks out of his dresser.

"Jack, what...?" Daniel's words slurred into a surprised "HUH?" as he walked into his living room, still fighting with his sweater. His eyes went wide and he gaped like a cartoon as he struggled to recognise his home.

Dotted around the room were dozens of candles, combining to cast a warm, friendly glow and scenting the air with delicious mulled wine aromas. On the CD player a choir was softly singing a carol collection.

His palm, which usually lived in the corner by the windows, had been dragged to where his erstwhile tree had stood and was decked with surviving lights and the remainder of Daniel's decoration selection. Little straw angels and camels hung from the fronds looking slightly ridiculous, but definitely festive. And beneath the laden palm there were gifts, their shiny ribbons reflecting the subtle flickering of the candles.

Daniel became aware that he was being watched. Jack stood outside the kitchen, his arms crossed, his shoulder against the wall and with an unreadable, soft smile on his face.

"What...where did...how did you...?" Daniel flapped a sleeve at the transformed living room.

"Well, I appropriated the rest of your decorations and your pot plant, the CD was for Janet and the candles were Carter's present. The sweater was for..."

"Teal'c," Daniel supplied, helpfully holding out his arms to elaborate, and causing the little bells on the antlers to jingle.

Jack grinned in acknowledgement and ducked back into the kitchen.

Daniel followed him. "You shouldn't have done that, Jack. Now you have nothing to give the guys," he remonstrated.

"Hey, it's no big deal. They won't mind and it's all replaceable in the sales for half the price," Jack shrugged, stirring a pan of something on the hob.

"What are you cooking?" Daniel asked, putting aside his humbleness for something more pressing...namely his stomach.

"Who-hash," Jack sniggered.

"Who-what?" Daniel asked perplexed.

"Seriously?" Jack turned a surprised face on his friend. At Daniel's "I got nothin'" gaze, he rolled his eyes. "Sheesh Daniel. Where've you been? Under a rock?"

"Well..."

"Do you not know Dr.Seuss?"

"Well, not 'know' per se. I know he wrote children's books...something about a cat...or a fox..."

"Go to the tree..."

"We don't have a tree..."

"Humour me," Jack insisted with a glare. "Get a small DVD shaped package in silver paper with a green bow."

Daniel shrugged again and disappeared for a few minutes. "This one?" he enquired, finally returning with the parcel.

"Yep! Open it."

Daniel complied, ripping the paper and pulling out the predicted DVD. "How The Grinch Stole Christmas," he read thoughtfully. "Who was this for, Cassie?"

Jack sniggered. "Hardly!" he grinned, but Daniel just blinked at him. "It's for you, Dannyboy. Welcome to the 21st Century."

"Can I put it on?" Daniel asked, feeling ridiculously pleased that Jack had bought him something so childish.

"After dinner. Go and sit," Jack ordered, shooing Daniel from the kitchen.

Obedient only because he was still in shock, Daniel sat at the dining table that he had carefully laid earlier, when they had HAD a dinner to eat. The silverware glowed and the crystal sparkled in the soft light. Jack brought the second bottle of wine and poured for them both, then went back to the kitchen to return a moment later with their food.

Daniel's look of astonishment quickly ceded into a smile of delight. There, on his best china was the dinner Jack had carefully prepared for him.

SpaghettiO's and toast.

But not just any toast... toast that had been cut into the shapes of Christmas trees, stars and a couple of wonky looking angels. Daniel picked up one of the mangled seraphim and beamed at it before biting off its 'head'...although it could have been a wing.

Jack picked up his wine glass. "Merry Christmas, Daniel," he said simply and took a long sip.

"Merry Christmas. And thanks, Jack. No one has ever made me toast Christmas trees before."

"You're welcome, and if you tell Teal'c or Carter, I'll shoot you," Jack informed him, spearing the gloopy orange hoops off his plate and eating them with apparent relish. "And Daniel, why?" he asked, his second forkful poised at his lips.

Daniel winced a little, instinctively knowing what Jack was asking. "Well I guess it's a throwback from my student days - I was poor and they were cheap..." he admitted. Jack gave him 'a look'. "And I like them," Daniel concluded in a small voice.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Cool! Me too." Jack shovelled in another forkful as if in triumphant accord.

They decided on the cheesecake that Daniel had painstakingly made for tomorrow's desert to follow up their gourmet meal and carried the plates to the sofa by unspoken consent. They sat side by side, chatting idly by candlelight, their socked feet resting on the table companionably.

"This is great," Daniel sighed with a contented smile, chasing biscuit base crumbs around his otherwise empty plate.

"Hah! You're too easy to please, Daniel," Jack grinned, putting his plate on the table.

"Seriously, I can't believe you did this for me."

"No, you probably can't," Jack said quietly. Daniel stopped his meticulous destruction of biscuit crumbs and frowned at Jack, his eyebrows drawn down in confusion.

Jack held his gaze for a long moment before shrugging.

"What do you mean?" Daniel pushed.

"Doesn't matter. You've still got orange on your face," Jack said in one of his lightning changes of direction that Daniel both loved and loathed; they could be amusing...but like now, they could be damn frustrating.

Daniel stuck out his tongue and swiped at the cheek that Jack was indicating. "Gone?" he asked, presenting his face for inspection.

"No," Jack smiled, "C'mere."

Jack confidently caught Daniel's chin in one hand and with a licked thumb, scrubbed at the spaghettiO sauce on his friend's face.

"Ewww!" Daniel intoned through squashed lips as Jack's big hand distorted his face. Jack smiled, but didn't release him, just holding the pads of his fingers against the linguist's cheeks.

"This IS great...weird...but great," Jack told him, then squeezed one last time and let go. His eyes were hard to read. There was something so close to the surface, Daniel could almost make it out, but what it meant was so huge, he had to be sure.

Daniel was torn between the urge to grin all over his face and press Jack a little more, see if he couldn't find a name for the recent uncharacteristic affection from his CO. It could be any one of a hundred words - Daniel knew a dozen synonyms for any given emotion, but he had a few favourites at the top of his wish list.

"Jack..." he began and the older man stiffened slightly, making Daniel's heart drop.

"Snow!" he whispered.

"Eh?"

"SNOW!" Jack repeated more forcefully, pointing over Daniel's shoulder.

"Jack, this is Colorado Springs - it's news when it DOESN'T snow."

"Ahhhh, but this is different - this is snow on Christmas Eve. This snow is not the annoying, dig your car out, freeze your nuts off, fall on your ass snow - this is Christmas Eve snow. It's special." Jack hopped up off the sofa and walked to the window to watch the fat, heavy flakes tumble past the glass and down into the dark.

"What you mean is that we have tomorrow off and you want to go out and play in it," Daniel translated, moving to join his immature best friend who was grinning in delight at the cold, white precipitation.

"Well, d'uh!" Jack replied, glancing over his shoulder and daring Daniel to contradict him.

"Okay," Daniel capitulated with a smile, infected by Jack's childish enthusiasm. "We could ask the guys if they want to play."

"'Kay," Jack agreed.

The dark windows reflected the guttering flicker of the candlelight and the white twinkle of the not-tree lights, creating the impression of a glow around Jack and Daniel's faces as they stared into the night. Daniel fancifully thought he could even feel the glow - then decided what he could more likely feel was an entire bottle of red wine with only toast and kids' spaghetti products to soak it up.

"Can I take this sweater off yet?" Daniel asked with a hopeful smile.

Jack looked surprised. "Well, of course not. I bought it for you; you have to wear it regularly from now on."

"You bought it for Teal'c..."

"Semantics, Daniel," Jack said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"I don't have anything to give you," Daniel looked glumly at the sooty smudge on his ceiling; all that remained of his perfect Christmas seduction. He'd bought things he'd known Jack would love, things that showed that he'd been paying attention, things that he'd hoped would make Jack realise how well he knew him and make him understand how deeply Daniel valued him.

"No," Jack sniggered, "I just threw out the last melted remnants."

"Sorry," Daniel sighed and turned back to the snow. He didn't actually know why he was apologising; 'Sorry' just seemed to sum up how he felt right now.

"Don't be silly, Daniel. I have all I need." He nodded his head at the absurd looking 'tree', indicating that spending Christmas here with his friend was gift enough. "And that dinner...never gonna forget that!"

Jack congratulated himself- today was a good day - he'd already got the eyebrow and now with only a short while to spare, Jack watched with pleasure as Daniel's nose crinkled up and he grinned.

Daniel snuffed in amusement and barged Jack's shoulder with his own. Jack barged right back and didn't pull out again, leaving them leaning into each other, side by side. Neither of them seemed in any hurry to end the contact and Daniel felt a charge of awareness thrill up his spine and back down to his groin at Jack's proximity and apparent ease.

"There was one thing I had for you," he heard himself say.

Suddenly, that expensive red and the hoops weren't sitting so well. Had he honestly just said that aloud? Daniel blinked at his reflected self in the window, noticing how flushed he looked. How could he look that pink when he thought he was about to throw up?

Jack's eyes were also on Daniel's reflection, looking suddenly serious. Daniel gulped in a lungful of air and smiled weakly.

"Really?" Jack asked very softly, his gaze never wavering.

"I'm not sure if you'll want it," Daniel continued and had to look away.

Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!

Where in the name of God was all this crap coming from?

Daniel's higher brain tried desperately to regain control of his mouth, but the warmth of Jack's arm, the smell of his aftershave and the hopeful look in his reflected eyes overrode all its best efforts.

"Oh, my tastes are very...very...specific," Jack drawled in a voice so low, that made Daniel's balls clench.

Daniel figured that was a come on, not that he had all that much experience of chat-up lines, but he was inexperienced...not dead!

Their gazes met in the glass once again. With a deep breath, Daniel turned his back to the falling snow and looked at the real, flesh and blood Jack instead of the cold, flat reflection.

Jack quirked an eyebrow encouragingly, his eyes now fixed on Daniel's lips.

With a feeling in his chest that was either a battle cry or the reappearance of dinner, Daniel leaned very slowly into Jack's space and lightly brushed his lips over the motionless colonel's mouth.

Daniel moved back, warily watching for a reaction.

Jack cleared his throat and shifted a little. "Not socks then?" he asked politely, but with a 'try that again' dare in his warm eyes.

Daniel smiled uncertainly and once again leaned over to press his mouth softly against his friend's. Did Jack get it? He wasn't moving away, he wasn't turning his head but neither was he smiling or obligingly falling into Daniel's arms.

The archaeologist knew he should stop and actually say what was on his mind, but the taste of O'Neill was intoxicating and once just wasn't enough - especially if Jack wasn't interested and this was all he'd ever get of him.

Daniel rested his hand on Jack's forearm while his other hand fluttered hesitantly, not knowing where to land. His lips seemed certain about where they wanted to be, but the rest of this was awkward, the angle of their bodies, the proximity of the window and Jack's stillness conspiring to thwart Daniel's attempts at intimacy.

"Damn! I needed socks as well," Jack said cheekily when Daniel pulled away again.

Daniel sighed in exasperation. Was the man going to co-operate or not? He'd done the hardest part, he'd made the first move and now it was up to Jack to either take him to bed or punch him out where he stood.

He felt so sick, either would be good for him, just to get rid of the knot of doubt that was making it hard to breathe.

Daniel figured three would be the charm and with his last shred of courage, he brought up a hand to Jack's hair and angled his head to get maximum pressure on those infuriatingly vague lips.

He felt the difference immediately.

Finally, Jack was kissing back.

And then some.

Freeing his hand from the all-encompassing sweater, Daniel ran his fingers through the short silver strands of Jack's hair and the older man turned into him, his arms sliding confidently around Daniel's waist and pulling him in. They both let out an involuntary, stifled moan as their bodies met, chest, belly, groin and thigh which made them grin against each others lips, particularly when Rudolph jingled.

Jack tasted of cheesecake sweetness and the rich, fruit tang of the wine as Daniel softly slipped his tongue deep into Jack's willing mouth.

It was heaven.

Jack fumbled for the hem of the ridiculous sweater, then laid his large, warm palms against the curve of Daniel's spine, spreading his fingers to touch as much of him as he could.

Daniel felt he could have stayed there forever in the circle of Jack's arms. Forget Christmas - this was New Year, Thanksgiving, Mardi Gras and the Fourth of July all rolled into one.

Finally, the threat of anoxia became overwhelming and their kisses grew shorter, gentler and more tender. Jack smiled between each brush of lips at the dazed look on his lover's face.

Daniel was blushing at the intensity of Jack's gaze, although if pushed, he was going to blame the wine and the stupid jumper. Jack looked so happy, his cheeks also colouring up and his eyes so amazingly dark and inviting, Daniel found it hard to look away from them.

Reluctantly, they stepped apart, their muscles complaining at the uncomfortable positions they had been forced to take to keep their lips together.

"Now THAT'S a Christmas present," Jack declared crossing his arms in a self-satisfied manner. In doing so, he caught sight of his watch and his face froze.

Daniel's grin fell as Jack studied the dial. Jack had somewhere to be? Was this some sort of joke? Daniel had just gambled it all on a kiss and Jack was...what...leaving?

Jack glanced back up at Daniel's stricken face and looked surprised. Then with understanding dawning in his eyes, he leaned around Daniel and opened the door to the balcony.

Immediately the sound of bells, far and near, could be heard over the snow-muffled, distant hum of the traffic, ringing in Christmas day.

"Somehow or other, it came just the same!" Jack quoted and took Daniel's shoulders, turning him to face the freezing night air and the snow that fell so windless and heavy. He spooned up behind the younger man, clasping his hands around Daniel's waist and resting his chin on his shoulder.

"Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more," Jack murmured in his beloved's ear.

"He's a wise man," Daniel nodded.

"Oh, yeah. You should hear what he had to say on foxes, socks and boxes."

They listened to the sounds of Christmas arriving; the bells, the people driving to be with loved ones and the occasional shouts of revellers wishing each other season's greetings. Jack hugged Daniel harder and whispered, "Merry Christmas, Dr. Jackson."

"Merry Christmas, Jack."

"Are you getting cold? Cos we could take this into the..."

"No, I'm fine. A friend gave me this jumper and I love it SO much, I may actually never take it off again," Daniel informed Jack smugly.

"Ah," he replied.

Daniel waited out the silent pause, his smile growing as he could almost hear Jack's thought processes.

"Daniel?" Jack began again. "Umm, I have something for you." Jack pressed a little closer into the linguist's back.

"Yes...I can...er... feel that you do," Daniel grinned and he turned in Jack's embrace. "Does that mean I have more unwrapping to do?"

Jack smiled wryly at his warm armful of archaeologist. "Let's go see what Santa has left for naughty boys," he smirked. He shut the doors, blew out the candles, switched off the tree lights and trailed Daniel to his bedroom, jingling all the way.

Fin.