Fangfic 9

Descent

by DevilKat

URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/asd/devilkat/fangfic09.php
Summary: Not Supplied

DANIEL

Oh. God. What's happening to me?

This anger. Not anger...fury. Rage that threatens to drown my senses. It's not logical. It's not me. Especially not against Jack.

It's...insane.

Am I insane?

Gotta get a grip. Gotta leave him, shower, THINK. Oh, think, Jackson, if you've never thought before think now.

Think, when all I want to do is let go and devour him. He doesn't understand. Doesn't know I've been celibate since Sha're. Well, except for the non-consensual stuff. No doubt he thought I was taking advantage of all offers. Yeah, Colonel, not as spaced as you believe I am. I know when an offer's being made, male or female. And sometimes...I was so close. So close, every time you hesitated and turned away from me as if it didn't matter.

Except...it was you I wanted.

Even when I was with her...and I loved her, I will never deny that. We were together and it was beautiful, more than wonderful.

Am I greedy? I wanted you too.

It's not unknown, on her world. When the tissue box came flying through...when she knew you would return...she told me, softly, she wouldn't mind, having you as a husband also.

That last wild kiss she gave me...it wasn't just for me, Jack. It was to stiffen my spine for the welcome home I meant to offer you that night. That night that never happened. The relationship I was absolutely scared stiff to suggest to you, straightlaced uptight military bastard that you seemed to be. Or, wanted to be seen as?

Now, at least, I have the answer to that. Not so damn uptight, not so military. If nothing else, I'll have the memory of being in your arms, kisses, touches. The hot desire in your eyes as you looked at me naked, and wrapped your hand around me. The sheer wonder in your face as I came for you, only from that hand. Only that.

I don't do casual. Sha're wasn't casual. Neither are you.

We were going to ask you to stay with us. Forever.

And now? Now I'm alone. Just me, Daniel Jackson.

I don't know what to offer you. I'm all I've got left. Will that be enough for you?

I feel so...alone.

Especially now that you've gone somewhere you won't let me follow.

Take the shower, change clothes. Get a grip. Trim the hair? Oh yeah. Apologizing on the couch Jack I'll cut it military so sorry. His answer? Soft laugh. "Oh, Danny. Just trim it a bit, babe. I'm a little too...mature...to be goin' out with a L.A. rock guitar god...but I want enough left that I can grab and pull you in...like this..." Kisses, after being pulled in. "Screw military. Had more than enough military in my life. You do military great when you have to, don't need to prove it by shaving your head..." More kisses. "Long hair is you." Kiss, kiss, kiss. "Wonder what it would feel like wrapped around...well, never mind! I just asked...so soft...woah...let's try that later!"

No dammit I can't go back there! Got to remember I'm angry at him, got to remember why. Think of all the reasons.

Why? Because he doesn't know me. Not really. He still has that "innocent Jackson" mindset. Even if he thinks he doesn't.

He's the innocent one. Though he wouldn't believe it if I told him.

If that bastard Lestat had chosen me, changed me, things would've been a lot different. A lot...easier.

Because I would take Jack with me in a heartbeat whether he wanted it or not.

Jack

Ouch.

I didn't mean to mention Lestat. But now that I have... How is Danny doing this? To know about Lestat before I even tell him. I mean, to seem to know ALL about Lestat, not just that he was some vamp who pulled me back from death. Even worse, to want to "talk " about it.

His eyes are cold and unforgiving, filled with jealous knowledge he shouldn't even have. Damn, even the button-eyed green frog on that tee-shirt seems to be glaring at me despite the stupid frog smile.

"Okay, Daniel...we'll talk. I'll tell you...whatever you wanna know. But private, okay? And I gotta take a shower my own self." Trying to make him feel sorry that he didn't let me share, here. My best hangdog look.

Doesn't work worth a damn. In fact even Kermit's expression seems to tighten.

"Okay okay okay. Bedroom. Ten minutes, fifteen tops." Cold glare. "Well, I gotta let Teal'c know I'm not a rude host, he can relax and kick back? Right?'

Instead of answering, he stalks off down the hall. That stupid tee-shirt has a grinning frog on the BACK, too. "Have a nice day!" Oh, right. The stupid tee is so long and baggy I can't even eyeball his butt as he walks off and Kermit's tellin' me to have a nice friggin' day.

Go pound sand up your ass, frog. I hope some French guy eats your froggy LEGS.

In the kitchen, I find Teal'c scarfing down the very last of the pizza. Yet from the quick, almost guarded look he gives me, I feel that he hasn't been totally focusing on his gullet all this time. I'm sure he has questions and he deserves answers too, but I'm NOT sure I can do everything in one night. Well, focus first on what I need from him; if he needs something from me all I can do is offer it. "Uh...Teal'c?"

"Yes, O'Neill?"

"I need..."

"Yes, O'Neill??!!"

"Damn will you let me finish a sentence here!"

"Yes, O'Neill." Really softly.

I just have to wipe a hand over my brow. Is the whole damn world goin' fruitcake or is it just me? "Vampire perceptions have been known to emulate LSD trips." Oh yeah, got that from Lestat. So glad that I remembered it just now.

"Teal'c. You might've noticed Daniel's a little outta whack here. I mean, I don't blame him, this is some crazy stuff, but..."

Teal'c interrupts me, quietly. "I have noticed. He does not seem himself. He is...most agitated." One of his eyebrows lifts. "I had presumed it was the unaccustomed sexual excitement and its release thereof."

A few seconds pass while I process this long involved sentence. Then I'm dithering and stammering and saying, "Uh, yeah, well, maybe, but, uh, Teal'c, it might be...uh, something else."

"Something...else.?" A very Jaffa eyebrow lift.

I sit down at the kitchen table and...Lord help me...grab the last tiny sliver of anchovy-loaded pizza and begin to nibble on it. "Y'know...when I got turned into a vampire...aside from all the various problems that come to mind immediately...drinking blood, being staked, no sunlight...the first thing I worried about was Danny. How he'd...be disgusted by it. Horrified." I meet Teal'c's dark, intent eyes and find him suddenly very easy to talk to. "I mean, it's almost like becoming a Gou'ald, really."

"So I thought at the beginning. Yet now, O'Neill, I am not so certain." His voice is soft and soothing. "Still you are the man I...know. You have not been possessed, or changed within yourself."

"I guess." Christ, but this pizza tastes like something you'd scrape off your shoe. I eat it anyway. "But Daniel...he's not only okay with it, Teal'c...he wants it. He wants it bad! Christ, I admit I bit him some in the infirmary, but that should've worn off in a few days! It's like when he was..." I stall and shut up.

"Addicted to the sarcophagus," Teal'c fills in for me calmly.

We look at each other flatly.

"A little less wired," I protest feebly.

He just continues to eye me somberly. Finally says, quietly, "O'Neill. How can I assist you?"

I swallow, so damn pleased he's asked. Obscurely ashamed...though I don't know why...to ask him for anything. "Just...well...stand guard. I have to talk to Danny, but I'm not...sure...what's gonna happen. So if you hear anything really...disturbing. Come and interrupt. I mean, screams, shouting, anything weird." I try to give a negligent grin, but I'm not sure if it comes off. "I mean, if I'm lucky it'll just mean more good sex, but...I'd rather be safe than sorry. Rather be interrupted than...for Danny to be in trouble."

He studies me, then nods. "You are a good man, O'Neil."

"You said that. Try a different compliment, fer cryin' out loud."

He studies me some more, and those full lips push up into a smile that...woah. Do I need this? I don't think so. "You are a most attractive human, O'Neill."

"O...kay. Well...that was...different!" I leap up. Hit the frig. Grab a beer. Run like hell.

Run to the shower. I think I hear soft, rueful Jaffa laughter following me all the way there. Okay, he was makin' a joke. Kind of an elaborate one for Teal'c, but I gotta sense of humor. Ha ha ha, he got me good!

I drink the beer so fast it nearly chokes me.

Shower...good. Clean...good. I have jeans and teeshirts in a small chest of drawers in my bathroom. Every now and then I do throw a party for my team, and there are times when you need clean apparel even if you don't have bedroom access. I put on black jeans and a black teeshirt. A clean PLAIN black teeshirt, thanks a million. I don't need any Cookie Monsters or goddamn Elmos on my chest thank you much.

And then I go to find Daniel.

In my bedroom. Must have been twenty minutes but STILL he's stalking around, not sitting down, not prepared to relax.

"Daniel," I venture.

"Jack!" he snaps back. Stalk, stalk, stalk. My bedroom is only so big, as fast as he's going he must have lapped it fifteen times while I was out talking to Teal'c. And he won't even look at me now. Oh, this is wrong.

I sit down on the bed. Then, I really LOOK at the bed. That's not my covers; I have a plain dark blue comforter. This is a swirl of blues and purples and fire-yellows...well, Danny might not give me credit, but I recognize Van Gogh's "Starry Night" rendered in blanket mode. I pull the coverlet back and...yup...here we have some black satin sheets that never were part of my fairly middleclass bedclothes thing. I look up in startlement, meet a guilty look and oh dammit he is so...

Delicious. My whole austere bedroom is now set up for seduction. Boy, do I see unlit candles all the hell over the place?

Instead of fawning all over him like I want to, I sit crosslegged on this seductive bed he's prepared and say quietly, "Do you even know why I agreed to let Lestat bite me?"

He stalls in his pacing. Hesitates. Well, he doesn't quite sit down but at least he's standing still. "Because you wanted him," he says, hatefully.

How the hell can he know that? Anyway...it was just for ten seconds or so. I did good, all things considered.

"No. Because I was dying. And he offered me another chance."

"To fight the Gou'ald." Almost as snappish, but not quite. I think he might be finally getting a clue.

"That too, but no. Wanna guess?' Before he can even answer, I'm telling him. "If it was just the Gou'ald, I would've said no. It's not a GOOD thing, Danny. You're a ghoul. You gotta drink other people's lives to live. I'd be out there right now looking for dinner if Lestat hadn't, er, topped me off." This earns me a VERY sharp look and I hurry on with my explanation before he can start probing. "The only reason I agreed to it..."

He catches a quick breath, and finally sits down on the bed near me.

"...is because I, I..." Oh this is a pain in the ass but if it keeps him from making a wrong decision I WILL tell him. "I couldn't die...without letting you know...that I love you...dammit! It was that stupid...that pitiful."

I do a bit of glaring myself. "Now what do you want from me here? Because if it's fangs in your throat you won't be getting it, not tonight! This is NOT something I did because I wanted to. Not something I'll share...at least not until I know enough not to, to damage you. I know how bad it is. I won't fuckin' do it!"

I mean it, too. I think he can tell. He's studying me; a curious, strangely intent look on his face. Better than the dark desire I saw there before, though. Maybe he's actually listening to me for once?

"What I want...from you." He actually laughs a little. "I'll tell you what I want." His voice is low and shivering, and suddenly that look of dark desire is back. "What I've WANTED since...since I knew I..." his voice staggers and falters to a stop. Then resumes, somehow colder, implacable, yet soft as a whisper. "I wanna fuck you, Jack. Got that? There's no damn romance in what I WANT. I want to use you, take you...and I want you to love it. Beg for it. Get off on it. God help me...I want you to LIKE me raping you...cause that's what it'd be. Because I know you wouldn't...couldn't...ever...really..."

He stops. His breath hitches so softly; might've hidden it from me if I wasn't...inhuman.

"Couldn't ever...want it too? Danny," I say softly, "look at me."

He won't. He'd rather hunch on the bed, hide in his hair, be miserable and ashamed of himself. After all that heat and wanton sexuality on the couch, he's this embarrassed at telling me his desire, his fantasy. The twenty-three language wonder is more at ease doing it than talking about it, maybe? Jesus, sometimes I think maybe we're starting to rub off on each other.

Show don't tell, Dr. Jackson? Okay. I won't ask you any more leading questions. I'll just reach out here...

He jumps up at my touch on his shoulder as if I'd goosed him, shooting me a wild look. "Gonna take a bath."

Dang, but sometimes this patience thing is difficult with him. "Danny, you already TOOK a shower...which you wouldn't let me share, dammit, because you were mad that I wouldn't bite you. You trimmed your damn hair, brushed your teeth, changed clothes to my great regret. How damned tidy do you need to get at nearly midnight all of a sudden?"

His jaw is set in that mulish look I know so well. "Clean the house, then. It's a pigsty!" He glares at me if this were MY fault, and stalks toward the door.

"Dammit, Jackson, forget the house and that's an order! You mutter out this blatant sexual image, leave me hangin' here with a hard-on to die with, and then want to play MAID?! I don't think so!!"

I really didn't mean to bark at him. Really. But Christ, does he know how much time we have here? Not much. I gotta be at SGC tomorrow night with my new skills, my new game plan. We've wasted enough time. Dammit, we've kissed and pawed each other-admittedly a whole bunch...we've more or less jacked each other off. We've each come once. We have over a year to make up for; more, if you count how long I was wanting him when I wouldn't even admit it to myself. And he says he's been wanting me even longer. So what does he think he's doing here?

He stops and looks back at me, through his glasses. A dark look, almost bitter, yet with enough hurt behind it to stun me slightly. "Oh yeah. Like you do want it. Like Colonel O'Neill wants a cock up his ass. A civilian cock, at that!"

I blink at him. "Well...that was rude." Maybe we really are changing places here.

"Daniel." I'm not sure how I can keep my voice so reasonable, when all I really want to do is smack him upside the head. "In case you haven't noticed...I'm not Colonel O'Neill anymore. I don't really know who or...what the hell I am."

I didn't mean it to come out sounding so...wistful. But suddenly I'm really tired of trying to figure it all out. I scrub my eyes with one hand, to get myself on track.

"But I do know this. I love you. That'll never change. And whatever you need from me...short of what might kill you...I want you to take. And where the hell do you get off, assuming I don't want the same thing you do? You might have noticed that we are already kind of in a fantasy situation here?"

I risk a look at him. He's gone utterly still. Turned back. Looking at me, totally intent. I can't read his expression, but what the hell.

"I'm a vampire, dammit. You can't hurt me physically. You can't shock me...well, maybe you can," I amend, as his eyebrows lift disbelievingly. "I admit I kind of...had some preconceptions about you that were, uh..." I hesitate.

"Overly romantic?" he suggests dryly. He's tilted his face so the reflection of his glasses blocks the expression in his eyes. Probably unconscious...but then, knowing Daniel in a hissy fit...maybe not.

"Utterly ridiculous," I correct firmly. "Because the reality is so much...cooler." Suddenly I can smile at him, and I do. "Danny, you're always giving to other people...me included. You hardly ever take anything for yourself. You may say you're no romantic...and I think that's partial bullshit anyway, to protect your feelings. I mean, maybe you don't want to hear from me that this isn't 'just sex'...that I want a relationship with you. The buying groceries together, watching boring tv together, growing old together kind of relationship."

He is so staring at me. I don't know if this is very bad or very good. Press on, O'Neill. Stick your damn neck out as per usual.

"So you're not romantic, okay. But you can't deny you're generous. And mind-numbingly polite all the damn time. Well, screw polite, screw generous. You don't gotta be either with me. It's my turn to give. It's your turn to take...me, if you really want me. I got no problem with 'just sex'. Sex is good, in my book. Sex is awesome. 'Just sex' is a cliché invented by dorks who don't get anything, sex OR love." I can't help giving him the Groucho Marx eyebrow bounce. "So do you want me...or what? I mean, you got me turned on, here. Put up or shut up, Doctor Jackson. I am SO ready for you."

He stares at me. Yeah, he's still staring. Maybe he's not used to me spouting off so much. His expression is absolutely unreadable. Then slowly, slowly he turns and heads for the door.

"Danny..." Oh, shit crap hell. What's the use? I close my eyes. Fall bonelessly back on the bed in absolute defeat. Screw it. I'm done fighting. I'm done caring. Let the damn Gou'ald take the whole friggin' world for all the damn I give. I've lost him and I'm not even quite sure why. Maybe mentioning the dread word "relationship" was a dumb idea? Maybe with the bad jokes, trying to lighten it all up? But that's part of me. He knows it. And he's not that...petty. So what did I do wrong?

The harsh click of the lock interrupts my pity-party. I open eyes and sit up so fast that I'd have a spinning head if I were still human.

He's leaning against the door he's just bolted from the inside. Staring at me like...like he used to do sometimes in briefings, when I'd glance up and catch his gaze before he'd blink and get nervous and yank it away. Expressionless and enigmatic, yet somehow intent, watchful, catlike. I always imagined it meant he was thinking what an asshole I was...generally because I always WAS an asshole to him on missions in some way. Seemed to follow that he'd be thinking about it after we were back safe and sound.

But I'm reading that expression better now, and my toes curl. It's a look to soften your brain while it hardens your dick. It's Danny totally lusting after me and trying to keep it under wraps and under some kind of control.

A crazed, quick vision of him leaping across the briefing room table in front of God, Hammond and everybody and pinning me to the floor in a savage kiss just previous to fucking me through that same floor...don't know if it's his thought or mine, but you better believe it's the opposite of a turn off for yours truly.

And then he's pacing toward me, yanking off his glasses carelessly and tossing them in the general direction of the dresser while his other hand almost absently strokes the beautifully obscene bulge in the front of his levis, and the look scorching me now isn't trying to hide or control a goddamn thing.

At first given his look and general attitude-very much resembling a wildcat in heat--I just figured he was gonna pounce and do it, wham-bam-thank-you-Colonel. Which would've been okay; I'd given him permission after all, me and my big mouth. But I've already learned not to try and predict my Danny.

At first it's lookin scary. Between the trek to the bed and his awkward but purposeful clamber topside to join me, he manages to rid himself of every article of clothing on his body...in the case of that poor old tee-shirt, just grabbing the neck, a second or two of straining muscles and growling exertion and boom, Kermit is toast. And I'm not too unhappy to see that smirking frog go. Okay, file for future reference-Dr. Jackson, brainy scientist-type, gets off on tearing his own shirts to bits like Hulk Hogan. Right now the score is shirts-zip, Danny-2. If this continues regularly during the relationship, I see a trip to the mall in our future.

File for reference something I already knew: That is nobody's scrawny geek body there. Deceptively fragile-looking-yeah. Maybe in clothes. But there's steel under all that silk and satin, defined muscles. Slender like one of those deadly samurai swords. Aimed now at my total ravishment. Yikes.

But once he's up here, what does he do? Grabs the back of my neck, pulls me in, and starts kissing me. Those really warm, sweet, tender-sexy kisses that nearly turned me to melted butter on the couch. Ah, romance. I'm so into it I don't even notice what he's doing with his other hand or how well I'm cooperating with it until a cool breeze hits my ass and I realize that hey, suddenly I'm not wearing much either.

And then he's somehow flipped me into, uh, a much more vulnerable position and is making good on a promise-one thing you CAN predict about Danny, he always keeps his promises.

He's showing me just what that mouth of his can do, and the amazingly imaginative ways he can use it over what seems to be every square inch of me, and later I think I'll probably hang my head in shame at my reaction to it all.

"What are you...woah! Danny! Yow! Jee-ZUS, yes, ohmigod...gah! Oh, Christ...Daniel. Daniel. Dan...eee...yel. Oh. Oh. Oh....woah! Jackson, you pervert, stop that, tongue doesn't go there....that's gross...that's...that's...WOW! YOW! DANNY! Why are you stopping? Stop stopping, that's an order!"

You get the picture. Square it a few times. Hanging my head in shame, now.

I have no idea how long this goes on...except it doesn't seem long enough. Couple of times, he has me at critical mass, ready to blow, but he always seems to know when to back off and chill. I swear at him in frustration; he laughs at me with a kind of evil delight, and then adds hands to the mouth-a-thon. Those long, articulate, so-delicate fingers, in places I never dreamed of them going. But since his tongue was there first, fingers seem almost, well, normal. If anything "normal" could possibly feel that good. I want to smack him one. But I'll tell you what...he's a clever boy. By the time he's done with me here, there's NOTHING this 44-old virgin wants more than that cock up his ass.

There's one more risky moment when he's lubing himself up ("How the hell did that 'personal lubricant' get in MY drawer?" I want to know; he just gives me a weird little smile and murmurs "Don't ask, don't tell.") I mean, he's not just slapping on some goo to make things easier, he's stroking that arrogant erection languidly, arching into it, a display so brazen that my eyes bug out. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine getting off on Danny caressing his own cock. It's so bad...or good...I have to grab myself hard and think of General Hammond.

He notices, of course, and smiles that weird little smile again. "You like that, Jack? Maybe we'll play later, hmmm? After serious business is finished."

My shy, sweet Danny. What an ass I am. He's a sexual dynamo. I am the wuss beneath him.

But then, maybe not such a wuss. Because suddenly, almost to ground zero, kneeling between my thighs and so close to there it barely matters, he hesitates. And I get that uncertain, half-shy look I really, well, don't want at this point. Except it's kinda sweet.

"Jack...are you sure...?"

"Sure?! Now? Jesus, Daniel! Lookit where you got me here! How SURE do you want me?" Between the mouth, tongue and fingers, I am so ready for him that if I had even a clue what to do first I would fucking impale myself on his dick and thus cut short the chit-chat.

"I...don't mean that. Sure I can't hurt you? I...I don't know if I can stop. Once I start. Want you so much. I...I don't even know about gentle. I'm...I'm really...I want you, Jack. So much..."

Well, duh. I guess I figured that out. "Danny. Go for it. Want it. You can't hurt me. Promise."

Lying through my teeth here. Well, no, he can't really HURT me...but vampire or not, this is gonna be painful as a sonuvabitch and I know it. There's a bit of difference between eyeing someone in the showers and thinking in surprise, "Woah, that geeky kid on my team is pretty well-endowed...Geez!" and having the same not-so-geeky, not-so-kidlike person ready to get up close and personal to you with those same astounding assets. Especially when he wants you to basically sit on his lap-"It might hurt more but please Jack want to see your face please?"

Not romantic? O---kay, Daniel. Well, I'm not exactly the bend-over, down-on-your-knees type anyway.

There's another part, somewhere in the middle, where you realize you're in love with the geeky kid in the showers and several jarheads are hurting pretty damn badly for comments they're made about your teammate's attributes, appearance, and possible sexual orientation, whether these comments were pro or con. Thinking of this makes me smile kind of fondly, and Daniel, bless his innocent heart, takes this as a go-ahead.

He pushes into me. I guess he meant it to be a cautious nudge, and I guess it is, but he gasps out loud at the feeling...shit, I gasp out loud at the feeling, the first blunt pressure against the most private and intimate part of me. And with that strangled gasp he's thrusting harder, know he can't help it, oh ouch, oh...Jesus.

Inside me. Danny's inside me and good God help me he is not stopping not being gentle at all driving in oh good fucking Lord.

"J-Jack..." And after that, a rush of words in no language I know. Pulling me in tight, hard, and yep I'm sitting on his lap where he wants me, right damn DOWN on his lap any second now because he's almost all the way in throbbing I can feel oh geez it's like I'm holding his life inside me. Filled with him by him and goddamn I love it love it love it. The Colonel's a total whore. The bad, mean, wisecracking Colonel loves this civilian cock up his ass, no, loves DANNY'S cock up his ass, and that's even before he shifts, moves, hits something that fires inside me like a zat blast of pure electric delight. I choke and swear and nearly black out. Finally recover.

"God...Daniel...oh man alive, is that good or what?"

Even in the middle of his own shivers of pleasure he chokes. "'Oh man alive'? Jesus, Jack!"

"Cliches are us," I whisper in his ear, and he punishes me by shifting again, moving against that point of magical fire powerfully, almost violently. His bad...he has to literally hold me down and onto his dick because I nearly shoot straight up off the bed like a rocket. A noisy, writhing, SCREAMING rocket.

He manages to hold me down. He manages to hold me right the hell down through several hard, urgently quickening thrusts and oh, is that him moaning like he's ready to die in my arms? So cool. So cool. I never imagined anything could feel this good, every part of my body is awake, afire, alive. So good even the damn fangs are sliding out as if to nod acknowledgement to the fact that I am turned on here to the absolute incredible limit of all possibility forever and for all eternity...

He's moving less frantically now. Sensuously, hips writhing, slow and teasing figure eights of motion. As if he finally trusts me, doesn't need to ram into me, pound it in, gobble it all up in fear I'll change my mind and he'll never have another chance. And the more languid, swirling dance is even better, killing me with deep soft fire instead of numbing electric force, but still I'm gonna die and I'm gonna love it. And I'm moving with him now, trying to be a contributing partner in this urgent magic; still don't know what I'm doing but it doesn't seem to matter. It works. I'm there. Fucking and being fucked. And it's holy sacrament, not an obscenity.

"Daniel." I finally open my eyes and oh God.

You know how you see something so beautiful and your heart stops? I don't have much experience here; people talk about sunsets, things that happen in nature.

I mean, I am enjoying myself and there's no doubt about it. But Danny...Danny is transformed. Maybe he IS a force of nature; there's nothing human that could be so wonderful, so gloriously beautiful.

Head thrown back, just a little. Bright hair streaked across his forehead, moist and somehow touchingly vulnerable. Eyes closed, mouth partly open. Lips moving silently in some forgotten language. I can see the fine tremors rippling through his arched, sweat-glazed body. He's incandescent, resplendent. Know how close he is. Know I've done this to him, just by giving myself. Letting him.

"Oh, God," I think crazily. "This is the high point of my life. Death. Whatever."

And then he opens those warm cobalt eyes, focuses on me. Smiles dreamily. And I know I was wrong. My high point is yet to come.

"Jack." His lips move, recognizably, on my name. Still can't hear his voice; it's as if all breath has left him. But that doesn't matter because one of his hands...up till now resting lightly on my hips to steady us both...one of his hands raises and curls behind my neck. Fingers tangling in my hair. His other hand slipping down between us, grabbing that slick urgent part of me that immediately starts to push against his grip with a life of its own. "Jack," he whispers again, and I hear him this time, darkvoiced lust that fills my name with such burning overtones I almost look around to see who he's talking to in such a way. "Mine. You're mine. I'm yours...please...?"

He's gonna pull me into a kiss. Sweet, so sweet. His mouth on mine as I come...which is gonna be any second now, his hand's quickening its pace on me, oh GOD where did he learn to do that? "Mine," I agree. All I can say. All I can feel. Oh, Danny...

I open my mouth for the kiss. Entranced...half-dazed...so stupid.

He moves like a striking snake. A speed I've only seen in...well, Lestat. A strength I never expected from Daniel, to my eternal embarrassment and regret.

Yanks me in, hard. Into his neck, throat arched against my lips, and before I can process the action, pull back safely, he whips his head violently to the right. Which wouldn't affect a thing if my mouth weren't partly open, if the fangs weren't already all the way out.

As it is, his neck drags against my teeth just enough to open a long, burning wound. A trail of hot fire that my mouth closes on without conscious thought.

Blood hunger. Lestat has mentioned it. It can happen even if you don't need it for nourishment. In a strong sexual situation. If a very attractive mortal offers him/herself to you. Unfortunately he got a bit technical; although he's not a scientist, he does tend to chunder on when describing vampire data. Probably a by-product of living so long. I glazed out, didn't really listen.

I don't think he mentioned it was like a wave of fire. A riptide of flame, pulling you back from shore even as you struggle to gain the land.

I can't...CAN'T...do anything but bite him. Oh Danny...so sorry...

He screams as I pierce him. And I think I could've withdrawn when I heard that sound, pulled away despite the incredible pleasure because if there is one thing on this earth I never want to do it's to hurt him.

Except he comes at the same time he screams.

Hard, quaking spasms. So powerful they shake both our bodies. I'm not ready for this feeling of him swelling inside me, for the pulsing of hot fluid jerking into me, filling and overflowing me, at the same time as another liquid fills my mouth, sweet and just as hot and...

Cinnamon. Danny's blood tastes like...cinnamon.

And it's as if that flow is connected to what's still pumping into another part of me. As if a magical circle has been drawn, connected, give and take and give and take take take...

His hand is fisted into my hair as I suck him, suck hard. Suck so hard for so damn long, abandoned beyond any dream of splendor. Writhing against him, giving him what he wants. Finally. Totally. What I want, too. Oh yes, yes yes Danny...

The first clue I get is that hand releasing; the second is the softest of moans.

And then I'm pulling back, dazed and confused, still half high from the incredible delight of it and oh no...

Oh no, oh no...oh goddammit...Daniel...

I've killed him.

So pale, death-pale. So damn much blood pouring forth, I did this, oh god I'm a monster, no idea how to fix it, oh shit, Lestat why didn't I learn more why did I ignore you oh Danny...

"Why ignore me indeed?" snaps a cold and merciless voice. A beautiful dark voice I know very well even now.

"What the...why the...you were WATCHING everything we...? Lestat, you sick son of a bitch!"

"Sick is irrelevant and yes, I like to watch." He snaps the light on and yep, there he is. In my bedroom. Bending over Daniel, a slight frown on his gorgeous ageless face. His dark blue eyes snap up to mine and then he's smiling almost savagely.

"You'd best bottle your inhibitions, O'Neill, and come closer. It will take the both of us to save this damned fool."

Next: Retrograde