Rainbow Warrior (Part 1/2)

by Lady Grey

URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/asl/ladygrey/rainbow001.php
Summary: In response to a direct order from the President, the military finally takes steps to correct its discriminatory attitude toward gay and lesbian soldiers. Following this groundbreaking event, Jack O'Neill comes out to his team, losing the support of one of them. Daniel decides to help his friend truly come to terms with his newly recognized orientation, and gets far more than he ever expected

The late spring air was warm, sweet with the perfume of neighborhood blooms, still and quiet – unusual for that hour of the day. It was as if the whole city of Colorado Springs were holding its collective breath, waiting for the world to change, and now Jack knew it had. He'd gotten the memo earlier in the day, placed directly in his hands by General Hammond himself, and he knew what was coming.

That didn't make it any easier to face.

He inhaled another lungful of early evening air as he let his gaze wander for a moment to the distant trees at the perimeter of his yard. Then he wandered back into his house, keeping his mind blank, not wanting to think about this at all. It was enough that the military had done an abrupt about-face in policy; he didn't want to deal with the issue until there was no other choice.

Until he heard the words, spoken publicly to the whole world, with his own ears.

Wandering slowly into his den, he settled himself into his brown leather recliner. With a sigh of resignation, he picked up the remote and turned on the television. Punching in the number for the FOX news station, he cleared his mind. The first story was a report on a recent election in the Middle East and its possible impact on the war against terrorism. Then the news anchor switched the broadcast to a journalist standing on the mall in front of the Washington Monument to make her report.

This was the one he'd been anticipating.

He read the reporter's name across the bottom of the screen, but had no idea who Jennifer Maitland was. Some ingénue, no doubt, who thought she'd gotten a scoop. The military had simply carefully chosen to whom they'd leaked the information, and this new young face got to be the one to break the news to the rest of the world.

She was young, mid- to late-twenties, with long brownish-blonde hair, smartly dressed in a navy suit, her makeup carefully applied. In her left hand she held a microphone, and in her right a small bundle of papers stapled together in the top corner.

"Today, the Joint Chiefs of Staff admitted a change in policy toward homosexuals in the military," she began. "A news conference is scheduled for tomorrow, but I have in my hand a copy of the memo declaring that, as of tomorrow, gays and lesbians will be welcomed into the ranks of our country's service personnel, in order to meet the need brought on by the war on terror. This new regulation also applies to all previously dishonorably discharged soldiers who were relieved of duty due to discovery of their orientation, current members of the military operating under the Clinton-era 'don't ask/don't tell' policy, and any who wished to have a military career but never joined because of their orientation."

Jack felt his belly tighten. He concentrated on relaxing it. His hands gripped the arm of the chair and the remote, and he had to remind himself to breathe.

"This announcement," the reporter went on, "comes on the heels of the scientific community's recent declaration that homosexual orientation is chiefly a biological phenomenon, with only slight environmental influence responsible for natural selection of sexual partners. The measure was presented by President Harrison to the Joint Chiefs more than two months ago, following the passing of the Human Rights Amendment to the Constitution, which gives equal protection under the law to everyone, regardless of race, gender, religion, ethnic background, or sexual orientation. The President put forth a diligent campaign with top military personnel in order to achieve this landmark decision among the nation's armed forces.

"The so-called 'don't ask/don't tell' policy instituted by President Clinton in 1993 resulted in a 67 percent increase in dishonorable discharges of gay and lesbian soldiers. Many of these soldiers have been key personnel, specializing in languages and analysis of sensitive information, and their loss has had a significant, detrimental impact on homeland security."

Jack's throat constricted. He swallowed hard, blinked and made himself let go of the remote, letting it balance on the chair arm. He clasped his hands over his flat belly, elbows balanced on the chair, and kept listening. There was more, he knew.

"The Canadian military has successfully integrated gay and lesbian personnel among their ranks," Ms. Maitland continued, "and our military will be using their methods as a pattern. Any mistreatment of homosexual personnel will be dealt with quickly and severely, and those who refuse to accept the gay soldiers among their ranks may find themselves court-martialed. The need for able-bodied, competent soldiers has far outstripped the barriers of prejudice, striking down this bastion of discrimination and finally embracing a policy of complete equality."

The scene changed to show canned shots of military folk moving about on a base somewhere, a collage that moved through scenes featuring every branch of the military going through their paces, while the reporter continued with a voiceover.

"Preparations are already under way at several hand-picked military bases across the US to process, examine and house the new and returning recruits. The Joint Chiefs expect to have several thousand soldiers in the various branches transferring from current duty stations, new candidates applying, and former dishonorably discharged soldiers returning to active duty. The logistics of managing such an influx will prove challenging.

"Even more difficult will be changing the anti-gay mindset that the military has clung to for so many years, but we have been assured that the integration will be swift and as painless as possible.

"There is also a general feeling among many in the know that accepting gays into the service may cause some long-time heterosexual officers to retire, rather than deal with this new regulation. Some will say that could be a beneficial loss, but regardless of the turbulence that will no doubt be part of the initial inclusion, the fact remains that many of the soldiers who have been dismissed in the past were experts in their various fields, and having them back can only be a boost to the military's talent pool."

Jack half listened to the rest of her report, prattling on as she was about ramification this and difficulty that. When the announcement was over, he listened to the reporter say a few more words in support of the new regulation, then kept the television on long enough to hear the FOX anchor's non-committal response before turning off the set.

Immediately, he went back outside to the deck, hands stuffed into his trouser pockets. There was no outcry from neighboring houses, no collective moan or shouts of rage. People had heard the news and life continued. Tomorrow the whole base would be alive with speculation about the subject. As one of the officers who had been given a heads-up on the official policy, Jack knew he'd be required to quell any negative talk and reassure those who voiced those opinions that it was for the best. If they couldn't get on board with the new regs, they could always find the door back to civilian life.

Gays and lesbians were to be treated no differently than any other soldier, which meant anyone attacking or harassing them would need to be dealt with quickly and harshly. That was now the official policy. There would undoubtedly be those who found subtle ways of showing their prejudice, but Jack and the other officers would be vigilant. They'd take down names and keep incident logs for review, and penalties would be assessed.

These were important considerations, and Jack was certain he could carry them out without hesitation. More importantly, however, this change in policy had another, more personal meaning for him. The reporter's words echoed in his head as he stared blindly out at the darkening landscape.

His whole world had changed, in the wink of an eye. President Harrison had taken down the walls keeping homosexuals out of the military, and the words of that announcement swirled around inside Jack, tearing down other barriers he had spent a lifetime maintaining. Tears prickled his eyes, and he blinked them away, the moisture gluing his eyelashes together.

He was a soldier, first and foremost. That was what defined him as a man, and now... soldiers could be gay. They could be women who loved other women; men who loved other men. Men who made love to other men.

Jack closed his eyes and leaned on the deck railing, the painted wood cool beneath his palms.

The moment he let down his guard, the fantasies were there.

Well-muscled chests. Flexing biceps. Stiffening cocks, rising proudly above heavy balls.

Jack sighed and opened his eyes. There was no longer any need to keep those thoughts at bay. He could be who he was and openly admit those feelings, because Jack O'Neill was gay. He had always known it, always fought against it, and for more than 30 years he had won.

Minnesota, summer, 1964

Leaving Chicago for summers with his grandfather at his cabin were much-needed breaks for Jack, since he could be alone most of the time. He could prowl the Minnesota woods or go fishing without seeing another human being for hours. When he wanted company, he could walk into town and hang out at the Tastee Freez, the only place in the tiny little burg where fourteen-year-olds like Jack could meet others their age.

That was where he'd met Tony Conti. He was a year younger than Jack and they had absolutely nothing in common, aside from a smart mouth and a quick wit. Tony had thick black hair, worn long enough for the curls to frame his face in an unruly mop. He had big brown eyes and a natural tan that made his teeth gleam when he smiled. The dimples that cleaved his cheeks made Jack twitch in his seat.

God, how he loved dimples.

He and Tony rubbed each other the wrong way from the start, and both boys loved it. Conti was bookish, not an athletic bone in his body, but he was smart and attractive, and Jack loved getting into arguments with him. They disagreed about everything, and over the months they had gone from sitting across the restaurant's dining room and trading barbs, to passionate debates over the same booth table. Tony got Jack's blood up every time they met, and Jack had gradually gone from spending a bored afternoon hour in town, to almost all day at the Tastee Freez, just so he could be with Tony.

It had been just a couple weeks shy of Labor Day that year when he'd invited Tony to go fishing with him. Much to his surprise, Tony had agreed. In the sun-baked quiet of the Minnesota wilds, the two boys had sat quietly for a time, and then started talking. That had been one of the most amazing conversations of Jack's whole life, and he felt certain he'd be safe with Tony; that Tony felt something for Jack, just as he did for the younger boy. Jack still wasn't sure what it all meant, but he easily imagined holding Tony close, whispering to him, kissing him, touching him, and that felt good. It felt right.

Only he didn't know how to bring it up. He'd decided to think about that as they walked back to town, and in the ensuing quiet, they had heard something. There were noises wafting toward them from deep in the woods, so they'd decided to investigate. Deep into the shadowy trees they stole, careful of where they stepped so they wouldn't be heard approaching.

The sounds were exciting, rhythmic groans and moans, softly breathed names, whispered declarations of love and urgent commands to action.

"Love you, baby. So much."

"God, yes! Like that. Fuck, yes!"

"Feels so good."

"Don't stop loving me. Not ever. I always wanna be with you like this."

"Yes. Always. I'm yours, baby."

Peering through the leaves, he saw two young men on a blanket. Both of them were naked and they were... doing things with each other. Jack's father had talked to him about sex and shown him some pictures, but this wasn't a man and a woman. What these two guys were doing, Jack hadn't known was even possible.

It excited him. It answered so many questions, put things into place for him. This was something he wanted to do with Tony.

He turned to look at his young friend, hoping to find agreement in his face, but Jack was shocked by what he saw. Tony's handsome features were screwed up in an expression of total disgust, and he turned away and stomped back toward the trail they'd just left, not bothering to be quiet any longer.

Jack didn't look back, just hurried after his friend, panic rearing up inside him. He watched Tony pick up his fishing gear and walk briskly back toward town, face clouded with some unpleasant emotion. Jack gathered up his stuff and hurried to catch up.

"Fuckin' queers!" Tony spat a moment later. "I know those guys, Jack. They're on the high school football team. They're supposed to be heroes, for cryin' out loud! Best friends!"

Swallowing hard, Jack felt his palms sweating around his fishing rod and the handle of the tackle box. "What're you gonna do, Tone?"

Dark eyes flashing with rage, Tony stopped walking and stared at his taller friend. "I'm gonna tell on 'em. What'd you think I was gonna do?"

Jack didn't answer. He felt suddenly lost. He shrugged. "Who are they?"

"Dave Pennig and Joey Anders," Tony answered. He snorted in disgust. "God, they make me sick." Tony started walking again, his head down, watching the path.

Falling in beside him, Jack remained silent, lost in his own thoughts.

Tony went on, "Dave was gonna join the Air Force this fall and be a big jet jockey." He shook his head and laughed. There was a sharp, cruel edge to it. "Guess he won't be doing that now."

"Why not?" Jack's thoughts immediately went to the model airplanes hanging all over his room at home. That was Jack's dream, too.

Glaring at him, Tony flashed a dark, bitter smile. "Because they don't allow queers in the military, Jack. Jeez, what planet are you from? Don't they have fags in Chicago?"

Jack didn't answer. He kept walking, something cold and heavy settling into the pit of his stomach. He went with Tony to the Tastee Freez, standing silently by while the other boy told all his friends what they'd seen. When asked to corroborate by disbelievers, Jack just nodded, sick inside that he was contributing to those young men's shame.

Three days later, Jack's grandfather told him the news that young Dave Pennig had accidentally killed himself while cleaning his father's pistol. A week afterward, Joey Anders left town; just disappeared. Jack heard later that he'd left a note for his parents, telling them he would never be back to bother them again.

In the waning days of that hot summer, Jack stopped going to the Tastee Freez. He kept busy, doing odd jobs for his grandparents and some of their neighbors, so he'd have an excuse not to hang with Tony. When the other boy finally came to see him, he begged off until Tony finally quit coming around. Jack just wasn't comfortable with him anymore. He was ashamed, not of what they'd seen, but because he'd helped ruin two lives. He was also badly frightened, knowing how close he'd come to making a move on Tony. When he thought of it now, Jack's blood ran cold.

So he'd returned to his solitary summer idylls, and today, with the first breath of autumn in the air and his vacation time about to end, Jack felt only relief as he anticipated going home again. He'd gone out to the railroad tracks cutting through the woods, just walking and thinking. Strolling along the rails, Jack's hands were stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, his head down, watching the shiny steel passing beneath his feet.

For two years he continued to struggle silently with himself, watching others for behavior patterns that were considered acceptable, using humor to camouflage his mistakes in judgment. He learned that it wasn't cool to hug other boys, to be close to them. The things he most yearned for were frowned upon by both other teens and their parents. He had to watch himself constantly, which pushed him away from the friendships he'd made with other boys.

Jack couldn't have what those young men in the woods had had, before their secret came out. That wasn't allowed. Jack wanted to be a pilot, maybe fly jets, be a hero. Maybe he'd even be an astronaut someday and fly to the moon. He didn't want to be a pervert, a fag, a queer, shunned and ridiculed by everybody, so that meant he was going to have to find a way to like girls the way he did boys. He'd watch to see how it was done and learn how to act in acceptable ways. He was smart, and he would never, ever touch another guy like those two had in the woods. Jack had dreams, and he meant to keep them. He never forgot the hard lessons he'd learned during that Minnesota summer, when he'd come so close to losing his dreams.

June, 1985, Colorado Springs, Colorado

Standing over the baby's crib, Jack studied his sleeping son, his heart so full it ached. He pulled the blankets up a little, tucking Charlie in, and turned to make his way through the darkened house to the bedroom he shared with Sara. She was sitting up under the covers, a book propped against her raised knees, apparently reading.

Taking off his T-shirt as he walked, he thought back over the day. It had been a good one, just an ordinary Saturday afternoon, barbecuing in the back yard with the neighbors. They'd talked about sports – well, he and Edmund Holloway had, while their wives discussed babies and recipes and gossipy things. Jack loved those days, because they were so normal, so quiet and peaceful, and in Jack's world, he took his peace wherever he could get it.

Eddie was a pediatrician, and he and his wife, Anne, had a baby girl a few months younger than Charlie. Anne and Sara were best friends, practically joined at the hip since the day she and Jack had moved into the neighborhood.

This meant that, by default, Ed and Jack spent a lot of time together, too. They'd been slow to warm up to each other, but the births of their children had changed all that. After two years of sharing each other's lives, the men were now best friends.

The doctor wore his long, dark blond hair in a ponytail at the office, and loose around his shoulders at home. He had a blinding smile with deep dimples, and hazel eyes that changed to dark green when he wore that color. They stood the same height, but Ed had a heavier build, with muscles that bulged and rippled as he moved. He was fond of wearing tank tops and shorts at home, and sometimes Jack had a hard time not staring at him. He was gorgeous.

Memories of Eddie in the back yard, sunlight glistening off his tanned skin, danced across Jack's consciousness as he brushed his teeth. He closed his eyes and enjoyed them, so that by the time he was finished in the bathroom, he was ready for Sara.

She smiled at the erection tenting out his shorts as he ambled over to the bed. "Is that for me?" she teased, laying her book aside as he got under the covers.

"Doesn't belong to anybody else," he assured her. It was the truth, after all. He tackled her into the pillow. When he let her up for air, Sara reached over to turn off the bedside lamp, but Jack stayed her hand. "We always have the lights on," she pouted. "It might be romantic to do it in the dark. C'mon, Jack. Let's try it, just this once. Please? You might like it."

"I like looking at my beautiful wife," he murmured against her neck, just below her ear. He needed the lights on, so he could concentrate on whom he was touching and not get lost in other images that invariably coursed through his mind when he was aroused. He needed to see her to defend himself against his fantasies.

Even now, the hard-on squashed between their bodies had been inspired by someone else. He quickly tucked that truth away, but the guilt continued to eat at him. He wasn't hard for Sara. He loved her – there was no doubt about that – but had she not dropped little hints all day about what she expected that night, he'd have been perfectly content to just roll over and go to sleep. He never initiated sex without some kind of preamble from her, and if she changed her mind and turned him down, he always felt a distinct sense of relief flooding through him.

He was performing properly as a husband, but Sara was still being cheated. This wasn't fair to her, and he knew it. He was going to have to find a way to stop faking his way into desire for her, and give her 100% of himself. She was the mother of his child, and he didn't want to lose her and Charlie.

Jack threw himself into arousing her, doing all the things he knew she liked best. Sara liked it quick and hard, since she didn't have a lot of energy to spare on marathon sex, what with being a full time mom and homemaker. He made every effort to please her on her terms. He brought her off with a stunning orgasm that left her limp beneath him, but he couldn't get there with her. Minutes later, he closed his eyes and instantly, the body beneath him was familiar and muscular, grappling with him for control.

"Yes, Jack, fuck me," Eddie growled between clenched teeth in Jack's mind.

"Feels so good, baby," Jack panted, pretending he was fucking his gorgeous friend into the mattress.

The groans he heard in his imagination were masculine and deep, urging him on, demanding, exciting. The fantasy pulled him screaming over the edge, left him panting into the pillow beneath his wife's head.

As he rolled off her and collapsed onto his own pillow, the guilt ate away at him again. This was so unfair to her. She had no idea what was going on in his head, and he hated that he was cheating her of what should be exclusively hers.

As she snuggled up to him, he slipped his arm around her shoulders and silently promised himself that he would find a way to rid himself of the demons that lived inside him. He'd fight them back so that his love for Sara was pure, untainted with those ghosts from the past. She deserved all of him, and he vowed again that he'd find a way to give it to her.

It had taken time, but eventually he'd managed to fulfill that promise to himself. His marriage to Sara hadn't survived Charlie's death, but Charlie wasn't the only reason it had failed. Killing off his inspiration had also killed a lot of things inside Jack.

Now there was no longer any need for struggle. He could lay down his burden of secrecy at last, and be honest with himself and the rest of the world. Oddly enough, however, there was no sweet sense of relief attached to that knowledge. The sensation that came to him, once he could put a name to it, was resignation. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he had no idea how to approach a potential male partner. He'd forgotten how to do it with women and didn't relish starting over at his age. The rules would probably be different, when it came to dating other men, and Jack was clueless.

He was also terrified; couldn't even imagine what it might be like to have an intimate relationship with another man.

Then again, he already had one that went well beyond the realm of mere friendship.

He thought about Daniel, and almost immediately post-mission memories of the younger man in the base showers crept in, but Jack shied away from pursuing that line of thinking.

No, there would be no true partners for Jack O'Neill, just as he had promised himself in his youth. He'd decided he would come out, and that would be enough. He just hoped his team would understand, and accept him as he was. There were a lot of things to think about now, not the least of which were when and how to come out of the closet to Daniel, Carter and Teal'c.

One Week Later SGC Briefing Room

Jack's mouth was dry as he pushed back his chair and stood up. His eyes moved from face to face lining the sides of the briefing table, faces he knew almost as well as his own. General Hammond sat across from him at the far end, his eyes on the papers stuffed neatly into his briefing binder. They were transfer papers, and they had already been signed. Jack was leaving SG-1 for another assignment, and he had decided the best way to handle informing his team was to do it formally.

He glanced down to his left at Carter, seated at the long side of the table, her eyes turned up to him expectantly. Teal'c sat beside her, his face impassive, as always. Daniel sat to Jack's right, across from Carter and Teal'c, scribbling away at his own notes for God knew what. Jack was certain he'd be listening even while working on ten other things, but for this announcement, he wanted everyone's full attention.

"Daniel," Jack said quietly. He touched the tabletop with his fingertips, grounding himself, preparing.

Blue eyes turned up to his immediately. They read his expression; the pen was capped and laid down, and Daniel sat back in his chair. He eyed Jack, waiting to hear why this meeting had been called, when there were no missions on the schedule for the team.

Jack took another breath and let it slowly out, mentally bracing himself.

"I'm sure you've all heard the recent new from the Joint Chiefs," he began carefully.

Carter turned away, stiffening up immediately, her gaze shifting to her notepad.

Jack's attention held the view of Carter's profile for a moment longer, then moved to the General's face. He read compassion and admiration there, and it bolstered him to continue.

"Our nation is going through difficult times," Jack stated. "We have need of personnel with unique skills, people who can help with the war on terror, both on and off world. We lost a lot of those experts due to discriminatory policies that are no longer in the way. We also have bigger issues with other worlds and civilizations, and this should help us to take our place among them as a species that truly believes what our forefathers wrote in our Constitution: that all are created equal before God."

He glanced down at the transfer papers under the general's hand. "Toward that end, new units will be formed to handle the influx of gay soldiers, and they'll need qualified people in command. There may not be many willing to associate themselves with these regiments, and if there aren't enough officers to fill all the necessary spots, the administration is going to start assigning them. Presently, I'm informed that no one of the rank of colonel has come forward--"

"Or come out," muttered Carter under her breath.

Jack ignored that, and the snide tone of voice with which it was delivered. "--to command the gay troops in the Air Force." He paused, his gaze anchoring on her face. "Until now. I've asked to be transferred, and General Hammond has signed the papers. I'll be shipping out in three days, once I tie up some loose ends here. General Hammond and I have already been working through most of the details for the last few days. They've reopened Moore Air Force Base at Fort Devens, Mass, especially for my new unit to be formed and to work out all the kinks. No pun intended."

Carter gasped. Her eyes went wide, filled with shock and disbelief. "But, sir, what we're doing here at the SGC – this is of global concern! It's far more important than--"

"I understand that, Carter," Jack assured her gently, "but this new endeavor is also crucial. Their need is great and immediate. I'm not the only colonel in the Stargate Program. I may well be the only colonel in the gay division of the Air Force."

"But, sir, you're not gay!" she declared. She was gripping her pen until her knuckles turned white. Her eyes were huge, filled with fear.

Jack straightened to his full height and squared his shoulders. He looked her right in the eye, unable to glance at the men on his team to check their reactions. It seemed somehow more important for Carter to know the truth than Teal'c or Daniel. "Yes, Major. I am."

Her mouth closed firmly, lips pressed together in a thin, angry line. She stared at him, those baby blues turning steely. She laid her pen down and put both hands into her lap, sitting up straighter and squaring her shoulders.

He could practically see the steam coming out her ears, but military bearing won out. She was keeping her feelings to herself, except for her eyes.

Jack didn't stop talking until he'd said it all, his gaze taking in the face of every person around the table in turn. "I've spent 40 years lying to myself; hiding what I was. When that announcement was made, I finally had to face up to my orientation, and now I have the freedom to admit it to myself, as well as to everybody else." He raised his eyes to Carter's and saw that she was staring down at her notepad again, her features perfectly schooled, her stiff body speaking volumes. "I wanted those closest to me to also know the truth, because I owe you that." He looked at Teal'c. "All of you."

The Jaffa gave him a slight smile and an almost imperceptible bow. "The Jaffa do not share Tau'ri prejudice against same-sex relationships, O'Neil," he intoned. "Most of the alien societies we have discovered are also free of this fear. It is a singularly Tau'ri behavior that I have never understood, and it bodes well for your people that you are finally beginning to allow it as acceptable behavior."

A great weight lifted from Jack's heart with that declaration. "Thank you, T," he said quietly.

Then Jack turned to face Daniel at last.

The scholar was staring at a spot on the table. His index finger was angled across his lips, his chin almost resting on his thumb in a thoughtful posture. His heavy brows were tugged down a little in contemplation, but he remained silent.

"Don't you have anything to say, Daniel?" Jack prodded gently.

After a moment, the younger man straightened and aimed a careful smile up at him. "I'm proud of you, Jack," he said evenly. "I know it took a lot of guts for you to come to this decision." He stood up and reached out his right hand to Jack.

He shook it mechanically. Daniel's hand was warm and dry. His grip was firm and sincere, and as Jack looked into those azure eyes, he saw whatever reservations Daniel had been feeling slide slowly away. His smile turned genuine, dimple and all, and Jack had to get a tighter grip on his heart.

"You're gonna do great things," Daniel assured him warmly, "but remember, we need you here, too. Will you be able to come back to us?"

Jack's heart squeezed up inside him. He'd come back in a heartbeat for Daniel. He'd tear up the transfer papers if Daniel asked, but he couldn't tell his friend that, because Daniel was straight. It was best that Jack get settled into being recognized as a gay soldier without Daniel around. It would be better for both of them that way.

"I'd like that," Jack assured him, "but it won't be up to me."

"Doctor Jackson, I'm putting in a request to have Colonel O'Neill select potential members of future SG teams from his roster, once their training is completed," General Hammond stated. "Like Teal'c, I believe this integration is long overdue, and once the military gets the logistics worked out for managing gay and lesbian soldiers in the general population of our various branches, I look forward to having the Colonel back to manage his own teams under the aegis of the SGC. I can't guarantee this is where the Joint Chiefs will assign him, but my request is ready to be turned in with Colonel O'Neill's transfer papers." He stood up, his eyes shining as they regarded Jack. "And I have every confidence that they will prove themselves extremely valuable to our nation. I wish you good luck, Colonel, and Godspeed."

"Thank you, sir." Jack sat down. He looked at Carter again, and she was still sitting in that unbending, full attention posture. She felt betrayed; that much was obvious, and she had every right to those feelings. He had been aware of her interest in him over the years and had done nothing to discourage it. He should have, for no other reason than the regs that forbade fraternization with the people under his command, but he hadn't, because it had been part of his cover, part of the way he had trained himself to maintain his façade of heterosexuality. It had been dishonest, and his announcement today had hurt her deeply, even though she refused to show it.

Carter would probably be the epitome of professionalism when it came to working with gays, because it would be required behavior under the new regs. If she worked with him in the future, she would undoubtedly follow his orders without question and serve in whatever capacity required, but the emotional bond they had once shared as teammates was undoubtedly damaged now, maybe beyond repair. He knew she wouldn't be able to decide how she felt about him until after the dust had a chance to settle.

Jack did care for her, far more than he should have. He cared for every member of his team in such a way that he overstepped the military boundaries. They were far more than team – they were family, pieces of his heart... and now he had probably lost one of them, simply because he'd admitted he was gay.

He barely heard the General dismiss everyone. It took him a few moments to assemble his papers and tuck everything into his briefing folder, and when he finished, he realized only Daniel was still sitting with him. He risked a glance into his friend's face and saw sadness there.

"You could've told me, Jack," he said quietly. "It wouldn't have affected our friendship."

Shaking his head, Jack returned, "No, I couldn't have, not until the Joint Chiefs made it okay to be gay in the military." He sighed and stood up, walking away with Daniel at his side. "I never really admitted it to myself until then, Daniel. I mean, I figured it out when I was a kid, but that wasn't something I could be, not and go to the Academy and be a jet jockey, so I did everything I could to convince myself otherwise. Sometimes I even believed it was true, that I was straight, and women turned me on."

"I bought it," Daniel admitted. "I'd never have believed you were gay. I almost laughed when you said you were, because I thought you were joking. Until I saw your face."

"Yeah. I wasn't exactly tossing out a one-liner this time."

"Sometimes you're kinda hard to take seriously," he admitted. "I don't always know when you're being Jack and when you're being the Colonel."

They stepped into the elevator together, closed off from the rest of the base for a moment. Jack pushed the button for 18 and clasped his hands behind his back, staring at the floor. "I've never acted on my orientation. I refused to believe my instincts at first, when I was still a teenager, and with the military career I had planned, I knew I could never be actively gay, so I did all the right things. I dated women. I fell in love with Sara and made a home with her, but after Charlie died, I knew I couldn't maintain the marriage, so I let her go. There've been a few women since then, but I always knew they weren't what I really wanted."

"So now you have the chance to explore all that and find the relationship you were meant to have," Daniel offered sympathetically. "That's great."

Jack didn't take his eyes off the floor. "I'm pretty sure I'll never be with another guy, Daniel. It's just not in the cards for me. Too many doubts and old hang-ups to get over."

"But Jack--"

The doors opened and there were people standing outside in the corridor, waiting to board. Jack and Daniel got off, their private conversation quelled for the moment.

Daniel put his hand on Jack's shoulder as they walked. "You gonna be okay?"

Jack eyed him, touched by the concern he saw in Daniel's face. He felt the warmth of that hand on his shoulder, that hand he knew as well as his own, and ached to embrace the man, to tell him everything, but he couldn't. Not at the base. Maybe not ever.

"I think so," Jack told him. "Could you... maybe... come by my house after work today? I'd like to talk to you about something else before I ship out."

"Sure thing. What time?"

"When are you getting off?" Jack regretted the phrasing instantly, and felt his face heating up. "Uh, I mean--"

Daniel chuckled. "I should be done around seven. Want me to bring dinner? Chinese, maybe?"

"Nah. I'll cook." This was sounding more and more like a date. Was it? Had Jack been reading Daniel wrong all these years? Was that interest gleaming in those gorgeous azure eyes, or was it just Daniel getting ready to explore new territory with his teammate?

"I'll see you around seven-thirty, then," Daniel told him as he stepped away. "I'm just gonna go check on Sam. I'll catch up with you later."

Jack nodded, watching Daniel turn and head down the corridor past his office, while Jack went to his own office to finish up his paperwork. He and Hammond still had a lot of ground to cover over the next couple of days, a lot of details to be considered before he left for his new post. He hoped to be able to return to the SGC at some point, but if fate led him in a different direction, he'd go without complaint. He knew it was entirely possible that he'd get shipped to Iraq with the first gay battalions for some active duty, and he knew it was also likely that, wherever they were stationed, support would be slow to assist them and backup under fire might never come.

They would be put into the field in places where others didn't want to go, and left to themselves to find their own way home. They would be ostracized and bereft of support, and only after they had proven their mettle in battle, their readiness to help others and demonstrated their ability to depend strictly on themselves, only then would they begin to earn a grudging respect from the rest of the military machine and carve their own place into it.

Jack was ready for that. He ached for it, and he knew the men and women under his new command wanted it, too. Part of him would miss being in the loop with the SGC, but if things worked well, he just might be back in a couple of years. He could hope for that, anyway.

In the meantime, he and Daniel could email each other, phone when the opportunity came up, and that would be enough. And he hoped that, if he were able to return, his best friend would still be there, alive and well, and offering his friendship.

That was the stuff of dreams for Jack O'Neill, the closest he believed he'd ever get to gay love.

***

The fire in the grill was crackling and Jack returned to the kitchen to start setting out the various items to cook. No sooner had he opened the refrigerator than the doorbell rang. He checked his watch and saw that it was barely 1800 hours, too early for Daniel to be there.

He'd make short work of whoever it was, because he didn't want to still be cooking when Daniel arrived.

He pulled open the front door with a scowl, which morphed abruptly into surprise as he looked into the face he had worn when he was 17. "Holy shit," he breathed.

For a moment, he was speechless, stunned and staring at his visitor. It had been over a year since he'd seen that face, and more than once he'd regretted pushing the kid out of his life. Still, he hadn't felt guilty enough about it to make contact again. He just figured that, if the other Jack O'Neill wanted to see him, the clone knew where he lived.

"I think we should talk," the boy said flatly, nodding toward the interior of the house. "In there, or out here?"

"Didn't expect to ever see you again," Jack mused, closing the door as he stepped outside onto the porch. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, turbulence instantly uncurling in his gut at the sight of his visitor. "What's up?"

The clone turned to face him with a wry smile. "You can't pull that shit on me." The boy's eyes were as old as his own, despite having no wrinkles in his face and no gray hair. "You know damn well what's up."

"Watch your mouth, Jack," the older man snapped, his brows scrunching down in disapproval.

"I go by Jonathan now," said the clone, his chin tipping up in defiance, "and this is one of the few places I shouldn't have to watch my mouth."

His expression grew serious. "Look, I came to talk about that press release from the Joint Chiefs. You know, about allowing certain people in the military? I need to know some things here. Like how the news has affected your life." His gaze was cool, threat-assessing, calculating, giving nothing away.

Jack nodded. He might be able to lie to anyone else on the planet, but not to this boy, who wasn't really a boy at all. "That's fair, I guess." He glanced down at the concrete porch, considering how to say it, but then, this person already knew what he was. What they both were. If anyone understood, it was Jonathan O'Neill. "I put in for a transfer to command one of the new gay units. I'm shipping out in a couple days."

Jonathan wilted slightly with relief, running one hand over his face. "So you came out? Great. That's good." He raised his eyes to Jack's, eyes filled with admiration... and the faint glimmer of hope. "Wow. I'm impressed. Didn't think you had the balls for that, at your age."

"Yup. Couple days ago to Hammond, when I put in for the transfer, and today to the rest of the team."

The boy's face tensed up, looking like he'd just eaten something unpleasant. "How'd that go?"

"Carter was a casualty. Everyone else was okay with it." Grief stirred at the mention of her name, but he swept it quickly back into the shadows of his soul. He saw the same thing happen in his visitor's face. That was just... eerie. That was what made him so uncomfortable around the kid: the feedback was intense.

"Sorry, Jack. I wasn't sure..." Jonathan shrugged, quickly composing his face into perfect military bearing, but his eyes told everything in his heart. "I'm sorry you lost her." He straightened and eyed Jack, his brows dipped down, questioning. "But you've still got Daniel and Teal'c in your corner, right?"

"They both seem fine with it," Jack told him, warmth flooding him, helping him to relax a little. "But Daniel and I... We've got some things I wanna get clear with him before I go. He's coming over for dinner later."

Jonathan cocked his head and grinned a little. "Oh?" That look was filled with innuendo.

Reading the boy's body language, Jack hurried to explain. "It's not that. Daniel's straight. I just want him to know a few things."

"Okay. I won't ask."

Jack told him anyway. "He needs to know I've never been with another man. That I've been true to the regs. That I was true to my wife."

"Except in your heart," Jonathan corrected. "I can still remember Tony's smile, and Eddie's body in the sunlight." He swore softly. "That man had a helluva build, Jack. I would've fucked him through a wall, if things had been different."

Jack crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. "But they weren't different then, and they're not that different now. Nothing's really changing for me, except that I'm out."

Jonathan frowned back. "Yeah, it is. I'm you, remember?"

Shaking his head, Jack grasped him lightly by the upper arm and leaned in, his voice low, heavy with emotion. "No, you're not me. You used to be, but you've got a second chance here, Jon. It's a different world now; one where you don't have to lie to yourself every day and pretend you're something you're not; one where young men in love don't have to kill themselves or run away from home in shame just because they're gay." He squeezed and leaned in close, jealous as hell and thrilled all at the same time, his heart wrenching for a few beats as the memories coursed through him, then easing as he stared into the boy's eyes. His own eyes. "You're free, O'Neill. Enjoy that."

"So are you, old man," the youth shot back, his voice gritty and tense. "For the first time in your life, you can have what you want. You can be who you were meant to be. You can look at hot guys. You can touch them. You can love them. It'll be good for you, Jack, just like you never let yourself dream it would be. Maybe better."

Jack let go of him, flinching back in denial, his words little more than a strained whisper now. "No, I can't. It's too late for me. I'm stuck in this..." His hands waved over his middle-aged body in frustration. "Nobody's gonna want this beat up piece of shit, and I don't even remember how to date women, much less try it from scratch with a guy."

Jonathan's eyes were assessing, raking him up and down. "There's somebody for you out there, Jack, but if you don't wanna try, I understand. I know you'll be great in your new command. And I know how lucky I am to be getting this life." He grinned, dimples cleaving his cheeks, his brown eyes gleaming with humor, only a slight shadow of past grief still clouding them, and that was fading quickly. "I'm a straight-A student this time around. My teachers think I'm a damned genius, for cryin' out loud! Thinking about becoming a scientist."

That sent Jack's eyebrows on the rise. "No shit? What kind? Rocket science?"

"Archaeology, actually," Jonathan replied, his head cocked. "Guys like Daniel are way more valuable to the program than we are. Soldiers are a dime a dozen, but imagine what we could accomplish if we had a guy with your soldiering skills and Daniel's knowledge of history and languages. Think of all the alien ass we could kick!"

That made Jack grin. Reaching out to tousle the boy's hair, Jack found himself in a wrist lock, which he smoothly twisted out of, grabbed Jonathan's forearm, pressed his elbow into a lock and pushed him down to one knee. They laughed then, almost a perfect echo of each other, as Jack let him go and Jonathan swiveled gracefully to his feet.

The sound of a dog barking nearby made both of them turn their heads toward the back yard. Jack was surprised to see a boy about Jonathan's apparent age run into the side yard with a black and white Alaskan Husky at his heels. He tossed a Frisbee and the dog shot out after it as they retreated out of sight into the back yard again.

The other boy had long, dark blond hair and a pair of gold, wire-framed glasses perched on his nose. He reminded Jack instantly of Daniel, or what he imagined Daniel might have looked like at that age.

"Hope you don't mind," said Jonathan. "I asked my friend to wait in the back for us."

"Nah, it's fine for him to be back there."

"That's another reason I came by," he added, nodding toward the side yard. "His name is Justin Fairchild, but we call him Zen, because... well, he's pretty Zen about everything. Takes what comes and goes with the flow. He's had a hard life, for somebody so young."

Pieces clicked in Jack's mind, and he turned to make eye contact with his clone, his insides clenching. If Jonathan had been involved in a gay relationship previous to the press release, Jack was sure he'd have heard about it. He relaxed with a sigh. "Your boyfriend?"

"Just a friend, for the moment," Jonathan assured him gravely. "We live in the same foster home, but it's no secret he's gay. I wasn't gonna do anything or let it go anywhere, because I know what it might have cost you, but then that announcement came out..." He shook his head, his expression going wistful. He looked to Jack for permission, his eyes pleading, hopeful. "Is it okay, Jack?"

Something warm and sweet clutched at Jack's heart. This younger, smaller version of Jack O'Neill had been living the same lie he had, in order to protect his older self. Jonathan would have denied what might have been the love of his life, to keep from casting any suspicion on the original. Jack admired him for that. He wasn't sure he'd have done the same, if he'd been given the same second chance at life.

He smiled, some of the tension he always felt around the boy dissipating. "It's okay, Jonathan. Follow your heart. At least one of us will get a chance at a happy ending."

The clone beamed, his whole face lighting up. "I so owe you for this, old man. Wanna meet him?"

"Did you tell him who I was?"

"Uncle Jack, my namesake," Jonathan answered coolly. "I explained you were gone on missions so much you couldn't adopt me. I don't think he understood, but he knows I'm okay with it."

They headed off the porch together. "So you two haven't... you know?"

"No, and we won't till he's of age," Jonathan assured him, with a disapproving glance. "I kinda have a problem with that. He's sixteen, still a kid to me... well, you know, the inside me."

"Well, you won't exactly be robbing the cradle, you know. You're actually younger than he is. You've had all of one birthday."

"The logistics of all that make my brain hurt, Jack. I so don't wanna think about it, okay?" Jonathan put his hand to his head and led the way across the driveway and around the side of the house.

"Whose dog?" asked Jack, watching the animal run happy circles, ears erect and tongue hanging out. He saw that the dog had one blue eye and one brown.

"Mine," Jonathan told him as he waved to his friend. "His name's Thor. You wouldn't believe all the hoops I had to jump through at the foster home, just to get him. I can't wait till I turn 18. Again."

Jack patted the clone's shoulder and gave him a squeeze. "I'm proud of you," he said quietly, looking out at the other boy running toward them, a big smile on his face. "Thanks for keeping our secret."

"You'd have done the same for me, Jack," said the youth.

"I dunno, Jon. We're two different people. I can't say I'm that noble."

"Yeah, y'are, Jack. Who would know better than me?"

Jack settled his arm around the boy's shoulder and waved to his friend as he ran toward them, the dog leading the way.

***

Jack had dinner finished when Daniel arrived. The table was set with the regular dishes, though Jack had been tempted to use the good stuff. This probably wasn't a date, however, so he had to treat it like it was any other dinner with his friend. He had to have no expectations here, in order not to be disappointed.

Daniel had brought two bottles of wine – one red and one white – and fell into his usual routine of helping get the dinner on the table. He seemed a little nervous, at a loss for words, rather than keeping up his usual chatter about work. Jack watched him covertly, noticing how Daniel moved around him without touching him, dodging out of the way at the last moment to avoid accidental contact in the small confines of Jack's kitchen. His hope waning, Jack concentrated on the small tasks instead.

They finally sat down to the table together, baked potatoes stuffed to overflowing, steaks exactly right, and just enough salad on the side to balance everything out. Jack cut off a few bites of steak, but before he could get started, Daniel finally spoke up, getting the real conversation started.

"Why'd you say you'd never be in a relationship with another man, Jack?"

Laying down his knife, Jack impaled a piece of meat on the tines of his fork and stared at it.

"I figured that would be easy to understand," he said slowly. "I don't generally let people get really close to me. I'm certainly not gonna be dating any of my men, and my work doesn't generally leave a whole lot of time to develop anything solid and real."

"You could still date outside the military," Daniel suggested helpfully. "Have some fun. Get your feet wet, so to speak."

Jack had to smile at how delicate Daniel was being, choosing his words so carefully. "I don't usually do casual sex, Daniel," he returned. "Not unless there's some kind of drugs or alien influence involved, anyway. As far as gay sex is concerned, I have... trust issues. I'm not gonna take it up the ass from just anybody, and I'm not in a big hurry to be the one on top, either. There's something... intimate about contemplating sex with another man that makes me want it to be more than just a one night stand."

Daniel actually blushed. "Um, Jack, I--I didn't mean to pry. I just--"

"It's okay," Jack assured him. "You're curious. I get that. And you probably never pictured me as anything but straight." He hesitated. "Surprise," he added quietly, and gave his friend a tiny little smile.

"I'll admit, I was taken aback by your announcement. I started thinking about things, seeing you in a whole new way."

"A good way, I hope." Jack dropped his gaze down to his plate. "I'd like for us to still be friends."

"Oh, of course! That was never in question," Daniel blurted. "I'm not prejudiced against gay men or lesbian women. Some of my best friends in college were gay."

Jack pushed the meat around on his plate. "Did they hit on you?"

"A little, but I wasn't interested, so they left me alone after that." Daniel took a big quaff of wine. "It just bothers me to hear you sound so fatalistic. You don't have to resign yourself to celibacy, like some kind of monk. You should experience life as a gay man. Date. Have sex. Safe sex, of course, but you should try it. It concerns me that you've already cut out the possibility of ever finding love.

"It's okay to go slowly. Get to know someone a little; have sex when the time feels right. You don't have to rush things, but you don't have to cut yourself off from everything, either. Besides, there are other things besides penetrative sex that you can enjoy. Work up to that, you know?"

"I'm not interested, Daniel," Jack reiterated. "If it happens, it happens, but I'm pretty used to self denial, and like I said, I have trust issues. It can't be just anyone. It has to be someone I really care about. Someone I know well. Someone I trust."

"What about Teal'c?"

Jack's gaze flew up to meet Daniel's earnest gaze. He was trying to be helpful, and that pulled at Jack's heart. He cleared his throat. "Uh, we've seen him in the showers, Daniel. I doubt very much I'd be able to take all that. Besides, Teal'c isn't gay."

"So? He seemed pretty open to the idea. Maybe he'd let you do him." Daniel picked up his wineglass and drained it, his face beet red when he set the glass down. "And I can't believe I just said that out loud."

Jack chuckled. "I think it's safest not to ask the big guy. He might not take too kindly to me suggesting he bend over so I can find out what it's like to fuck a guy."

Daniel's eyes widened. He reached for the wine bottle.

"How about you?" Jack asked lightly. "You wanna volunteer to be my first lay?"

The younger man couldn't pour and drink the wine fast enough. "Shit," he said when he came up for air. "Um, no, thanks."

"Calm down, Daniel. I was joking," Jack teased lightly. "I know you're straight."

Daniel's reaction had told him everything. The tiny glimmer of hope he'd nourished died quietly, and he forced himself to shove the first bite of steak into his mouth. He couldn't taste it at all, and concentrated instead on getting it chewed and swallowed. It caught in his throat and went down in a huge, painful lump.

"You should at least try," Daniel urged again, after downing a little food himself. "I hate to think of you sentencing yourself to a life alone, without even trying to find someone to love."

Jack shrugged listlessly. "Been alone for almost ten years. I'm used to it."

Blue eyes regarded him fiercely. "Not alone," Daniel corrected. "You've had us to care about you."

A flash of Carter's face at the briefing table flicked into his mind. "Yeah, well, I think there's one less in our dysfunctional little family after today."

"Sam will come around, Jack. Just give her some time. Is it okay if I share some of what we've talked about in private with her? I think it might help, especially if Sam knows you've never acted on your orientation. I think that'd be important to her."

"Sure. I'll be gone in a couple of days. It doesn't really matter, I guess."

"You sound so defeated."

"Just being a realist. I was prepared for all of you to turn your backs on me."

Daniel's hand reached out and covered Jack's.

Jack looked at that warm, calloused hand covering his own for a moment, then raised his gaze to meet his friend's.

"You won't lose me," Daniel promised fervently. "We've gone through too much to let anything come between us."

Jack's heart pitched over in his chest, slamming hard against his ribs. It felt bruised, torn loose from its place inside him. How that promise hurt him, and Daniel would never know the extent of that sweet, hopeless pain.

If Jack O'Neill were ever going to fall for another man, it would be this one. He'd teetered on the brink of being in love with Daniel for years, and had always managed to hold back just enough to keep from plunging headlong into romantic, sexual fantasies. Daniel was everything Jack wanted in a companion: smart, sensitive, caring. He was also innocently sexy, and so gorgeous he made Jack's eyes hurt to look at him for more than a few seconds at a time.

Over the years, Jack had gotten good at building walls to keep people out, and from the beginning, he'd underestimated Daniel's ability to get past them. Whenever he thought he'd been successful at pushing the geek back, he'd turn around and find Daniel standing in the middle of his soul. Daniel was part of him, and he supposed, after the adventures they'd shared – to hell and heaven and back again – that he was part of Daniel, too.

Jack swallowed his heart down and patted Daniel's hand affectionately. "Thanks, big guy. Right about now, I need all the friends I can get."

"I'll always be here for you," Daniel told him fervently. "Always."

"I know." Jack mustered a smile for him. "You stayed with me even when you were dead."

Daniel blinked at him. "I did?"

Briefly, he retold the events in Ba'al's prison, when Daniel had come to him to try to help him ascend. When he finished, he noticed that Daniel's complexion had lightened several shades.

"Did you remember something?" he asked tentatively.

"Not a memory, exactly. Just a sensation. I was afraid for you."

"I was afraid for me, too." Jack pushed his plate back and laid his fork down in it. "I came awfully damn close to spilling the beans." He stared at his mostly uneaten dinner. "Teal'c thinks you put the idea into his head to tip off the other System Lords to the location of Ba'al's secret hideout. I think he might be right. It's the sneaky sort of thing you'd do, to stay out of trouble with the glowy folk and still get the job done."

"I'm not sneaky," Daniel argued vacantly, frowning and still trying to piece what Jack had described together in his mind. "Am I?"

Jack grinned. "General Hammond calls it 'thinking outside the box' and says you excel at it. You're good at coming up with off-the-wall solutions, and you don't always clue the rest of us in until we're knee deep in Jaffa." He chuckled. "So yeah, you're a sneaky sumbitch when you know in advance you're gonna be shot down, and that you're right. On the other hand, you're just as good at pulling our bacon out of the frying pan when we need you most, so I suppose it balances out."

"I'm just getting things done," said Daniel defensively. "I know how the military machine works, and how to get around it when there are more important issues at stake than weapons and naquadah."

They continued discussing Daniel's proclivity for stubborn insistence on having his way until they were both shouting and jabbing fingers at one another, rising from the table and carrying their argument and beverages into the living room.

They talked over each other, neither one listening to what the other was saying, hands gesticulating wildly, until the exact same words spilled out of them in unison. "You never listen!"

For a moment, they just stared at each other. Then the anger vaporized and grim reality settled into their minds. They spoke again, in perfect synchronization, with exactly the same emotional inflection. "I'm gonna miss you."

And then they hugged each other, just standing there together for a long time.

At last, Daniel pulled away, his eyes filled with grief. "Don't let 'em ship you off to Iraq," he said quietly. "You tell 'em we need you here."

Jack swallowed hard. "That's not for me to say, Daniel. They give the orders; we follow them. That's how it's always worked in my world, and if they send me overseas, my troops and I will make our country proud. That much I can promise you."

Daniel nodded. "That much I already knew." He sighed and looked down at his feet, then around at the room, his gaze roaming over the now-bare mantel, taking in the absence of most of Jack's personal items, which had been packed away and now waited in the garage to be taken to storage. "What will you do with the house?"

"I should have everything in storage before I ship out," Jack answered, looking around fondly at the room. "I've called a real estate agent who's going to lease it out for me, until I have some feel for what's gonna happen with my unit. Once we finish training, if they ship us out somewhere else, I'll put it on the market. I should know something in three or four months." He looked at Daniel's smile, at the grief etched into his face, and wished there were some way for him to come, too.

"You wanna move in and look after the place for me?" he asked quietly. "That bungalow of yours is too small for a guy with as much junk as you have."

"Antiques," Daniel corrected, lifting one finger into the air to emphasize his point. "Artifacts. Not junk." He shook his head. "I don't think I could live here with you gone, Jack. It's gonna be hard enough, not seeing you at the base every day."

Jack gave him a sad smile. "I'll be a phone call or an email away. For a few months, anyway."

Nodding, Daniel swallowed and turned away, walking toward the door with Jack in his wake. "And sometimes I'll be worlds away and wish I could talk to you."

"So write me real letters," Jack suggested, patting his friend on the shoulder, "and I'll do the same."

Daniel hesitated at the front door, obviously wanting to stay, but certain he should go. "Need any help packing up?"

"Nah, I got it covered."

They shook hands, hugged again, and Daniel promised to see him off when he boarded the plane at Peterson for his new assignment. After that, Daniel left and Jack was alone. Of all those he'd loved in his lifetime, Daniel Jackson was the one he would most regret leaving behind. If there were any possible way to get himself a post at the SGC for his new unit, if God smiled on them and gave them the opportunity to return, then he'd be back in the Springs one day.

That, however, was not up to him... but he was prepared to do whatever was necessary to make it happen. Even if it meant going back to Iraq.

16 Months Later, Somewhere in Afghanistan

It was cold in the mountains, but Jack was used to it now. He hated everything about the place-- the food, the weather, hearing the Afghani's language spoken around him, but his troops were all the consolation he needed for the discomforts and inconvenience of being in a foreign land in combat readiness. Holed up as they were in this village, so tiny it didn't appear on any map, they'd been left to themselves for a good three weeks and were settling into a routine.

Jack knew that wasn't a good thing. It made their movements predictable, and while most of the activity in the war on terrorism was taking place in Iraq, Jack wasn't sorry to be where he was. The gay division under his command had been shipped there together and was spread out all over the country in small units that provided search and rescue capabilities for all the international troops stationed in the area. His team had linguists in every unit, and they'd quickly become favorites of the non-American military because there was little trouble in communicating with these Americans.

Their own troops, however, tended to give them a wide berth.

These rustic Afghanis had been open and accepting of them, too, but Jack was experienced enough with Middle Eastern people to know they were not always what they seemed. He mistrusted everyone except his own people, and he decided it was time they broke the routine and moved to someplace else, even if it were out in the middle of nowhere. Predictability made them easier targets, and he hadn't lost a soldier yet – nor did he intend to, if it could be avoided.

Checking the load on his pistol, he slipped it back into its holster, strapped it down to his thigh and stepped out of his tent into the afternoon sunshine. He pulled his sunglasses from his jacket pocket and put them on, glancing around the camp to scope out the scene. His command unit was set up just on the edge of the village, and they'd commandeered a vacant adobe house – all two rooms of it -- to serve as his office and headquarters, complete with a privy out back.

For a moment, he just watched the comings and goings of his people and the natives among them. He could sense their enemies out there, smiling at the American soldiers, bobbing their heads and making offers of local goods while secretly plotting against them. He picked out the movements he knew by heart, the regular stream of people heading for the mess tent for their coffee and breakfast, and, rather than join them, he started off toward the barn where some of their supplies were being stored.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a sudden movement and turned his head to locate the source. A little girl crouched behind a stack of used Jeep tires, peeking out around them at him. In her hands she clutched a scrap of cloth that he barely recognized.

Two weeks earlier, he'd taken charge of a box of Beanie Babies that his 2IC, Major Tom Campisi, had ordered at his request. Jack had handed the tiny stuffed animals out to those soldiers who regularly came in contact with the villagers, requesting that they pass them out judiciously to little children who seemed afraid of the American soldiers, as goodwill gifts.

This particular little girl had been in the camp hospital after her uncle had brought her in with a fever. Jack had personally stayed with her until she understood that the Americans were helping her to get well, and the next day Jack had ordered the toys. He'd given her the first one himself: a little brown dog with floppy ears that reminded him of a dog he'd had as a boy. The child was still a little shy around the other soldiers, but not with Jack.

He squatted down and smiled at her. "Hello, Shahla."

Glancing about for other soldiers, the child saw that no one else was around and stole out from behind the tires, running up to him and stopping just before she touched him. She looked at the floppy dog in her grip, now dirtier brown from having been played with often. Her eyes were huge and dark, and she looked very serious for a moment.

His grin widened in delight, and she broke into a gap-toothed smile, giggling back at him.

"Shahla! There you are." A young Afghani man in long robes came out from beside the command hut, glancing nervously about him. At his side was Lieutenant Joshua Fox, one of Jack's primary translators. Fox's features were carefully schooled to maintain bearing, but his gray eyes were dancing as they approached.

He and Fox had struck up a warm friendship during their mission to Afghanistan, but it had gone no farther than that. They had talked about home, friends, and family, but Jack refused to let an attraction take hold. This man was off limits to him, as were all the others under his command, and he would let nothing interfere with his leadership role.

Jack reached out and picked up the child, seating her on his left arm while he braced it with his right. Shahla put an arm around his shoulders and waved to her uncle as Jack strolled to meet them.

"Good morning, sir," said Fox formally, his voice quiet as they arrived. "We sent the little girl to find you, to give us an excuse to look for her." He glanced around the compound, as if making sure no one else was in earshot. "Shadi told me something that I thought you should hear in person."

"Something good, I hope," Jack returned casually. He could feel his insides tightening up, anticipating something that might not be so good. Not for his people, anyway.

"Our presence here is having a positive effect on the villagers," Fox told him. "Shadi, here, has seen things he dared not dream, by watching us, and we've opened his eyes."

"Let me guess," said Jack. "He's gay, and he's got the hots for one of our guys."

"That's part of it," Fox agreed, nodding his head. "You know gay men don't fare well here, sir. Penalties in this country are still pretty harsh where sex outside of accepted custom is concerned."

This was something Jack knew from previous visits to the Middle East. He'd seen some of those punishments carried out with his own eyes, against women who'd had the courage to love someone not chosen by their fathers or in an adulterous affair, as well as anyone who risked loving others of their own gender. Gay folks lived deeply in the closet in that part of the world, risking their very lives when they chose to come out, or were discovered by accident.

"We can't ship him to the States, Fox," Jack told him flatly.

The young officer grinned. "We can, if he gives us information of the right kind. We could send him anywhere in the world he wanted to go."

Jack cocked his head, his interest growing. "What are we talkin' about here, Lieutenant?"

"Think bigger than the ace of spades," Fox told him, glancing around them again. "Bigger than the whole deck, sir."

The reference to the US military's specially made decks of playing cards depicting the top people in the Iraqi Baath Party's hierarchy made Jack's mind go straight to the ace of spades – Saddam Hussein himself. "Bigger than Saddam?" he queried, studying the young man's face.

Fox was a country boy from Kansas, blonde and freckled, with intelligent gray eyes and a friendly smile. He was solemn and by the book, taking his military career very seriously. He was also kind-hearted to a fault, and on the naïve side, in Jack's opinion. For him to make that statement could either be youthful enthusiasm or dead-on fact. Jack wasn't sure which, but Fox's excitement was becoming obvious.

Jack turned to Shadi. The young man was as slender and pretty as his niece, his dark eyes full of fear and hunger. Fairer than most of his people, his beard was straight and soft-looking. He was very somber as he stared back at the American commander.

Switching to the Arabic he seldom spoke but understood quite well, Jack asked him, <"What do you have to tell me?">

Shadi reached for his niece, and Jack handed her over to him carefully. <"You will protect my family?"> asked the Afghani man. He glanced at the little girl and hugged her close. <"I must know they will be safe.">

<"If what you offer is worth our protection, then, yes,"> Jack replied slowly.

Shadi grinned at him then, and for just an instant, Jack was smitten. The young man was utterly beautiful when he smiled. <"The one you seek. I know where you will find him,"> he said confidently.

<"We seek many,"> Jack told him warily.

The young man whispered a name.

Jack stared at him, his mouth going dry. His heart started pounding in his chest. "Where?" he asked, his voice barely loud enough to hear. <"Where?"> he asked again in Arabic, and listened intently to every word of Shadi's answer. When he'd finished talking, Jack's first instinct was to shake his hand, but he didn't. This man, if his information were accurate, had just put himself on an exclusive hit list, and if Jack appeared to be doing anything other than giving back a lost child, anyone watching might realize what they'd been doing and act before his people could prevent it.

He turned his attention to the young officer. "Fox, I want you to accompany Shadi back to his home, but don't be obvious about it. Walk with him part of the way, explain to him what's going on, and then drop back a little, keeping him in sight. Make sure you look like you're on other business. Shadow Shadi while he gathers his family in one place, and when he's done with that, I'll have enough troops stationed around the house to protect them. We can't make it look like they're under guard until this intel is confirmed. I'll be checking that out myself. Understood?"

"Why not just put him and his family under guard now?" asked Fox, his blond brows drawn down in confusion.

"Because if he's right, and the target's already been moved, he might be able to find us the next location," Jack told him, thinking ahead, "only if he's obviously under guard, the others'll know he squealed. Without the goods, we can't really protect him. If we score, he'll have it made for the rest of his life, but not until then. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Keep your radio on, and I'll keep you apprised of any changes. I'll rell Major Campisi where you're headed and have him get the support ready." Jack reached out and patted the little girl's head, giving her a genuine smile. "Bye, Shahla," he said gently.

She waved at him as her uncle turned away, Lieutenant Fox at his side.

Jack scanned the compound for Campisi, spotted him in the doorway of the command post, and walked briskly toward him, already planning the attack. What he wanted was stowed away in the women's quarters in a town not far away, where they often traded for supplies. In a few hours, if all went well, he'd have earned his way back to Stargate Command, along with the respect and gratitude of an entire nation.

Dutifully reporting the intel to headquarters after setting things in motion to protect Shadi and his family, Jack convinced his superiors that there wasn't time to delay and move other troops in for the capture. Jack's men were the closest, and they were trained for just such missions. They had to act right then, or possibly lose the chance forever. It took some of the best negotiating he'd ever done, but he finally got the go-ahead, since it would have taken days to move in other specialty units for the extraction, and Jack and his unit could have it handled in hours.

This one, he argued, was too big to risk letting get away, regardless of the politics involved. The gay troops would have to do this, or those in power would risk losing the biggest prize of all in America's war on terror. In the end, prudence won out, and though the Generals in command of the Afghani front were unhappy about who would receive the glory if the mission were accomplished, they wanted this terrorist badly enough not to really care who brought him into custody.

Other units would be quietly pulling up stakes and heading their way in support, but Jack's hand-picked best quietly loaded up their gear and pretended to head off to the neighboring town for a regular supply run; this time, however, they weren't planning on shopping in the market downtown. The commodity they wanted was hidden in a private residence, one they had passed by many times, and Jack was already planning how best to go about the raid to capture Osama BinLaden, the mastermind behind 9/11.

Three Weeks Later, Bagram AFB, Afghanistan

Jack unzipped the suitcase on his bunk, wincing at the movement. Every time the pain reminded him of his wound, he smiled, remembering how he'd gotten it. BinLaden himself had shot him, high in the meat of his left shoulder, but they'd caught the bastard. Jack had taken him down personally after being wounded, and once his men had the terrorist handcuffed and on his feet, they had taken great pleasure in videotaping the arrest, since the terrorist had been dressed in women's clothing to mask his appearance.

The capture had made international news, as they had known it would. By the time Jack's unit had that quadrant of the city secured, they had been taking shots from loyal Jihad soldiers. They'd been prepared for that, and after a single day of holding their position, the rest of the nearest UN troops had arrived to drive off their attackers and celebrate the capture of the world's most wanted man.

Only too happy to hand off his prisoner to his CO, Jack had gone to the nearest field hospital for treatment. After a couple of days' stay, during which he fielded calls from the President and each of the Joint Chiefs, Jack had been returned to his unit in the Afghani back country, his arm in a sling for a few days. A couple of weeks after that, back on active duty and out of the sling, he'd been visited by two generals. They had come to interview him and offer him and his men any assignment they wanted. All he'd had to do was name it.

That choice had been made without hesitation, and now that he was fully recovered, he was going home. The unit had returned to Bagram two days ago, and Jack had been surprised by the warm welcome they'd gotten from their previously frosty comrades-in-arms. Now they were all packing up again, getting ready to board a plane for Germany, where they'd rest and see the sights for another day or so, then fly back to Colorado Springs by way of New York City, where they'd be given special honors at the site of the Twin Towers memorial, which was still being built.

He was eager to go home, to see all his old friends, especially Daniel.

As if on cue, his cell phone rang. The Caller ID made him smile. Apparently, Daniel had heard the news already, though Jack had hoped to surprise his friend by just showing up on his doorstep once he was back in the Springs. He sat down on the bed beside his suitcase. "Hey, Daniel. How's tricks?"

"Fine, fine," Daniel's voice answered in his ear. "You ready to ship out yet?"

"Nah, still packing. I've got a little time yet." Jack checked his watch, reassuring himself that his statement was true. "What's up?"

Daniel cleared his throat. "Well, I wanted to call and tell you how much I'm looking forward to having you back here. You could've come home for your first leave, you know, instead of taking it in Germany. I mean I know you needed to be close to your troops, but I've missed you. We all have."

Apparently, Daniel still didn't know Jack had been wounded during the capture, and he was in no hurry to enlighten his friend. At this point, it would only cause needless anxiety. After a pause, Jack asked quietly, "Carter, too?"

There was a brief silence that spoke volumes. "She's still working through all this, Jack."

"I've been gone eighteen months," he returned flatly. "You and Teal'c have kept in touch, but I haven't heard a word from her. I think she's made her position pretty clear." He sighed and leaned back on the regulation cot that had been his bed for the better part of a year. "I'm okay with that, really. I knew going in that there'd be problems. I just hoped you three wouldn't be casualties. I guess two out of three's not bad."

"I still think she'll come around," Daniel told him. "Having you here will help that. Once she starts seeing you again at the base, I'll bet she falls right back into our usual repartee." He cleared his throat and fell silent for a moment, his hesitance telegraphing clearly through the phone. "So have you found a boyfriend yet?"

Jack cleared his throat. Loneliness had been a constant companion during his latest tour of duty. Not only had his men been isolated from and ostracized by other troops in the field, but Jack had also kept his distance from them socially. He'd been available to them and looked after them properly, but when not being the Colonel, he'd kept strictly to himself. That was how he'd wanted it; how he'd decided it was going to be from the beginning. "I thought I made it clear the day I came out that wasn't on the agenda."

A little chuckle sounded in his ear, sending a shiver of delight all through him. He loved it when Daniel laughed, and those low, sly ones like that just did things to him. Delicious things.

"Well, I had to ask," Daniel teased. "Have you given any thought to where you'll be staying, since you sold your house here in the Springs last summer?"

Jack shrugged against the blankets, then realized Daniel couldn't see the gesture through the phone. "Figured I'd move into the base lockdown quarters for a couple weeks while I go looking for new digs. I'm not too thrilled about apartments, but that might do till I have time to go house-hunting, I suppose."

"Or you could move in with me," suggested Daniel brightly.

"In that cracker-box bungalow? You've gotta be kidding. I'd have to go outside to change my mind."

"I'm not there anymore," Daniel told him with a note of pride in his voice. "That was temporary. I decided it was time I had a house built just the way I wanted it, so I sketched out a plan, took it to an architect to engineer and design, and moved in last month. I've got a guest suite with your name on it, if you're interested."

"You built a house and didn't tell me?" That irritated Jack a little. House building was a guy thing, something he'd have thought Daniel would share all the details with him, ask his advice, share how the project was coming along. It hurt a little that Daniel had taken such an important step and left Jack out of it completely.

"I wanted it to be a surprise," Daniel told him, a hint of mystery in his voice. "You'll know why when you see it, and I figured I could bore you to death with all the construction stories when you got here. I didn't wanna waste our precious few calls a year talking about my house, you know? Can't wait for you to see it!"

Jack considered for a moment, his moment of pouting fading fast. "You're sure I won't be... in the way?"

"You opened your home to me when I didn't have one, Jack. I want to do the same for you. Stay as long as you want. Mi casa es su casa."

"You've really thought about this?"

Daniel chuckled into the phone again. "I had your rooms designed especially for you -- wait'll you see them! So, yeah, I'm sure."

"No shit?" That was a surprise. Jack's taste in decorating was average at best, where Daniel's was highbrow and eclectic. He'd even made that drab little gray bungalow look like a mini-museum.

"No shit, Jack," Daniel assured him, a smile in his voice. "I'd love to have you here. Take as long as you need to get settled and find a place of your own, even if it takes a year or two. I want you to find the right place for you, not just any place that'll do, okay?"

Jack was certain this was one of the nicest human beings in the universe; most certainly the best friend he'd ever had. With warmth filling him up and a smile tweaking up the corners of his mouth, he replied, "Well, then, give me directions, and I'll come up as soon as I've got my men settled. Might be a few days before I get there, though. There are debriefings and ceremonies up the wazoo waiting for us when we get home. I'll call once were headed for the Springs, so you'll know when we're coming in, okay?"

"How 'bout if I pick you up at the airport? You can call me when you get off the plane."

"I'll be getting my unit organized at Peterson as soon as we collect our baggage. They've been preparing our quarters and such for a couple of weeks now, but processing everyone's gonna take some time, so I don't know when I'll be done. I'll get a car from the motor pool and drive in, okay?"

"Suit yourself. I guess I'm just eager to see you. Got a pen and paper, or would you rather download the driving directions from the Internet?"

"You know me and computers, Daniel." Jack rose and located those items, then wrote down the address and directions to Daniel's new house from Peterson. "Be there as soon as I can," he promised. "Thanks, buddy."

"Hey, nothing's too good for the guy who caught--"

"It wasn't just me," Jack cut in with a wry grin. "It was all of us. My people got lucky." He chuckled softly, remembering Lieutenant Fox's celebration with their Afghani friend. It might have been little more than flirtation and kissing, but he'd seen enough to know sparks were flying between those two. "In more ways than one."

"It earned you the posting of your choice," Daniel added with a note of pride warming his voice. "Congratulations, Jack. And thanks. Can't wait till you're irritating the hell outta me again."

"Aht! Aht!" Jack held up a finger to interrupt, eyebrows lifting. The reaction was automatic, and even though Daniel couldn't see him through the phone, he'd probably have a pretty clear mental image of it. "That's your job with me. Nobody else does it quite like you do. Not that I've missed you, or anything. It's actually been... kind of... peaceful here, without you around." He was smiling into the phone, certain Daniel recognized a tease when he heard one.

There was that smutty, naughty chuckle again. "Riiiiiiight," Daniel drawled. "See you soon, Jack."

"Yeah. Depending on weather and how much cooperation we get, once we're back home."

"How's it been?" Daniel's voice was serious now, really wanting to know.

Jack sighed. "We deal." He smiled a little to himself. "It's been better, though, since we did what nobody else could do."

For a moment, there was silence. Rather than being awkward, it was filled with warmth, blossoming inside Jack with a sense of peace. Then Daniel said softly, "Proud of you, Jack. Hurry home."

"I'll do that," he returned. "See ya."

A soft click in his ear told him Daniel had hung up without saying good-bye. He thought about that, and not once in all the years he'd known the other man had he heard Daniel tell say that word to him. They'd always simply parted and gone about their lives, and Jack wondered if Daniel ever said goodbye to anyone. He hadn't had a chance to do that with his parents or his wife. He hadn't even said it to Jack when he was dying of radiation poisoning, when it would have been most appropriate.

Maybe that was Daniel's personal superstition, his way of heightening his chances of seeing those he loved again.

Jack shook his head, aware that he was spending way too much time thinking about Daniel. Truthfully, he'd missed his old friend. He wasn't sure how long he'd be crowding Daniel's space, but Daniel's offer had been generous and genuine, and Jack would appreciate a place to crash for a week or two, while he looked for a new home of his own. He might never have the love he wanted, but he had friends who would fill up the empty spaces in his life just fine.

Hurrying through packing up his gear, he headed out to meet the bus with the rest of his men, and in a few short hours was on the ground in Germany. In a few more days they returned to newly re-commissioned Moore AFB at Fort Devens, Massachusetts, where the majority of his men went on to new assignments while his handpicked unit boarded another plane bound for the Big Apple, and a welcome home from a grateful nation.

Three Days Later, Peterson Air Force Base, Colorado Springs

It took much longer than it should have for transportation to meet them, and processing the new soldiers into the base systems dragged on as well. Jack suspected the delays were driven by prejudice against the gay soldiers, but they were accustomed to that and waited patiently until quarters had been assigned. He personally escorted his men to their new homes, and when the last group had been squared away, he called Daniel to confirm his friend was home, then headed for the motor pool to sign out a car at 2200 hours.

Jack stowed his gear in the trunk, dug out the directions Daniel had given him, and headed out to Daniel's new, upscale neighborhood off 115 South.

The streets were lined with elegant, showy houses set back from the curb, most with ornate gates designed to keep people out. As he turned onto Lion's Gate Road, Jack's eye was drawn to a house on the hilltop overlooking Cheyenne Mountain. It was lit up against the darkness, huge cathedral windows glowing with a warm amber light. If Daniel had built a house in this neighborhood, he must be doing damn well with his finances.

Jack pulled up to the private driveway at the foot of the hill, where a tall, wrought iron gate barred the way. The entrance was flanked by two stone walls, one of which was imbedded with a brass plaque that read, Chevron House, 2027 Lion's Gate Road. On either side of the driveway, two life-sized stone lions reclined on the ground in regal repose. They reminded Jack of the lions in front of the New York Public library, famous landmarks of the city where Daniel Jackson had grown up after his parents' tragic deaths.

For a moment, Jack sat stunned in the borrowed car, gazing up at that house on the crest of the hill. Was this Daniel's place, or was his new house something more modest, hidden around the backside of the hill? That house up top looked like a goddamned Presidential library, but after he'd checked the address again, he knew he'd come to the right driveway, at least. He was starting to feel like he'd just been dropped into a Hollywood movie, anxious now to see if that really was Daniel's place up there.

Jack rolled down his window, entered the entry code for the gate that Daniel had given him, then pushed the button on the intercom box and announced himself. A hum of machinery sounded, and the gate began to withdraw, pulling back behind the stone wall that bordered the property. He pulled through the opening and into the driveway, rounded a corner and went up a series of switchbacks, finally emerging on the backside of the hill. That amazing house on the crest perched on the edge of the cliff facing the road, overlooking the city, was the only house on the property. It had to be Daniel's new digs.

"Well, I'll be damned," Jack breathed, putting the car in park and killing the engine in the circular front drive. Knowing what he did about local real estate, it had to be one expensive house. It was mostly V-shaped, the point backed up to the edge of the cliff, falling away to the switchbacks below. The structure's two wings embraced a formal drive leading to a two-car garage on the south end of the house. Wide, curved stone steps led up to a double front door. Flanking the door were two huge Egyptian style columns, the capitals at the top made to look like painted lotus blossoms. The exterior was done in buff-colored limestone, featuring lots of big windows, all tinted gold in the darkened rooms, glowing warm amber in those that were lit. It was an elegant cross between ancient Egyptian and neo-modern design.

Daniel was waiting on the steps, dressed in his usual baggy jeans and a plaid shirt, barefoot, a huge smile plastered on his face.

"I'm here," Jack announced as he got out of the car, "but I'm not sure I'm in the right place. What was the price tag on this castle, for cryin' out loud?"

"Too much," Daniel called in answer.

He went around to the back of the car, unlocking the trunk quickly as Daniel hurried over to meet him. He pulled out his bags and set them on the pavement, then shut the trunk lid just as Daniel reached the car.

Jack was prepared for a handshake, but he was enveloped in a huge bear hug with Daniel chuckling in his ear. "Jack fuckin' O'Neill! God, how I've missed you!" Daniel growled, hugging him harder. He let go and pulled back to look Jack in the eye. "The mountain just isn't the same without you. Maybe now things will get back to normal."

"As normal as it gets, here, anyway," Jack agreed. "Hey, yourself, Daniel. It's good to be home again."

Daniel reached down to pick up two of the bags and started up the steps. "C'mon, I wanna show you the place. Hope you like it."

Jack's gaze wandered up to the top of the tall columns, taking note of the balcony above the front steps. That might make a great stargazing deck, if Daniel were amenable to the idea. He promised himself to ask about that later and grabbed the rest of his gear, following Daniel inside. "I can already tell it's gonna be somethin' out of one of those World's Coolest Home shows on HGTV."

Chuckling, Daniel pushed the front door open and ushered Jack inside.

The foyer was clean and spartan, with blank tan textured walls and floors that looked like polished sienna marble. Jack glanced around and shook his head. "I'm still not sure I'm in the right place. This is quite a bit different from the apartment and the bungalow. Big. Especially considering how little you're actually home."

"Yeah, well, I won't always be in the field, you know, and whenever that day comes, I'll have a place that's comfortable, and just what I wanted. More or less." Daniel directed his gaze to the gleaming brown surface beneath his feet. "The floors look like marble, don't they? They're really stained concrete, which were much less expensive than the stone I wanted, but I'm happy with it. I had to cut a few corners here and there, and the downstairs floors were part of that. Looks good, though, doesn't it? This way to your rooms."

Without waiting for an answer, he turned to the right and headed through an arched doorway into an elegantly appointed sitting room, decorated with European antiques, arranged on a Persian rug. Against one wall, a wide wooden spiral staircase twisted upward to the second floor, and Jack realized that round stairwell was the interior of the lotus column to the right of the door that he'd seen at the front entrance.

"This is a guest reception room, for when official types come to talk," Daniel explained, gesturing to encompass the room and the direction they were headed. "Through here is your sitting area. Sort of a small living room, just for you." He glanced over his shoulder at Jack and grinned. "I tried to decorate this wing in the spirit of your old house. It's not exactly the same because the rooms are shaped differently, but hopefully you'll like it."

"Wow. You went to a lot of trouble for me, Danny. You didn't have to go that far."

"My pleasure, Jack. I wanted you to feel at home whenever you were here."

Jack stepped into the big, open room after his host, taking note of the large windows, looking out on the front drive and gardens. The carpet was the same beige as that in his old living room, and at the far end was a field stone fireplace. Even the furniture was similar, which meant Jack would be leaving his stuff in storage until he found a place of his own. This was all new; his had been starting to show some wear.

Jack followed Daniel through a door at the back of the room, and for a moment, he stood breathless, his gaze fixed on the view. The room faced northwest, the long side wall all but covered with floor-to-ceiling windows. The drapes were drawn open, exposing the dramatic view of Colorado Springs, glittering with lights in the darkness.

Daniel hit the light switch, and Jack grinned as he caught sight of the fish pictures framed on the walls. He set his bags down on the floor, put his hands on his hips, his cheeks tight with a huge smile. Daniel had gone to a lot of trouble to decorate this space just for him, and it warmed him to his toes.

"Well?" his host asked. "Do you like it?"

Jack looked at him, seeing that Daniel had also set his bags down. Jack sidled closer and clapped Daniel's shoulder enthusiastically. "You did good, big guy," he assured his friend. "Feels like home already."

"Great! Come see the rest of the house, and you can unpack later. You're not too tired, are you? Because I really want you to see all of it. You've got tomorrow off, don't you?"

"Yeah, show me. You've got a right to be proud of this place, from what I've seen so far." Stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets, Jack rocked back on his heels and cocked his head. "Where'd you get the money for all this, Daniel? The real estate alone must've cost a fortune, and I know you didn't make enough over the last ten years--"

"My grandfather," Daniel interrupted, his face shuttering closed. "He died a few months after you left for Afghanistan. Came back here when he knew it was his time. I didn't tell you about it 'cause I knew you couldn't have done anything, and you wouldn't have been able to get away for the funeral anyway, since he wasn't your family, and you were on active duty overseas. Thought I'd wait to tell you when you got home." He shrugged. "I thought it'd be easier this way, for both of us."

"I'm sorry," Jack told him honestly. He would have liked to hug Daniel then, but he had that 'don't touch me' vibe going. Daniel was accustomed to bearing his pain alone, and Jack knew that. He'd bring up the subject later, when they were both in a position to talk about it. This wasn't a really good time and he knew it, so he left the subject alone.

A moment later, Daniel cleared his throat and pushed past his grief. "Anyway, his estate came to me after he passed away, and General Hammond helped me get the red tape all sorted out. I never knew how much Nick was worth in taxable dollars, because none of that ever mattered to me, but the publishing rights to his books alone were worth a fortune. Add to that all his artifacts and collections, his bank account, investments, and properties all over the world..." Daniel shrugged. His gaze dropped to the floor. "I'd rather have him back than all this. Our time together was too short, and there was so much pain between us. I think we could've gotten past that, if..."

"It was important to him to know he wasn't nuts, Daniel," Jack stated, hoping to comfort his friend. "You helped with that."

Daniel gave him a polite smile, his grief still burning quietly in his eyes. "I know. It's okay. I just miss him." He took in a deep breath and sighed it out, and his smile turned genuine. "Missed you, too. It's great to have you back."

"Good to be back. So show me your fancy new digs. You really went all out on this place, didn't you?" He followed his friend back into the sitting room, taking a left about halfway down the long wall, toward the northernmost corner of the house. Daniel pushed open the double doors and stepped around to the wall into the darkened room to find the light switch.

When they came on, Jack was astonished.

Daniel rarely watched television, except for the History Channel and other educational programs. He'd watched more TV while visiting Jack than he ever did at home, but here in the house he had built for himself, he had set this room off as a stunningly beautiful home theater, featuring all the latest high-tech gadgets Jack had been lusting after, including the biggest HD plasma screen TV Jack had ever seen in a showroom.

"Holy shit," Jack breathed. He took two steps into the room, taking note of the pair of matched brown leather recliners serving as the front row of seats, with a table between them for snacks, and the two sofas in the elevated back row. The realization hit him full force, making his mouth dry up and his eyes go wide. The theater was in the guest wing of the house – the section Daniel had built for Jack.

He turned around, utterly speechless, and gave Daniel a fierce, back-slapping hug. Then he left the room, clearing his throat and trying to make his voice work again. He couldn't have spoken just then if his life depended on it.

"It's okay," Daniel told him, patting his shoulder, his eyes twinkling with private pleasure. "I could tell you liked it."

Jack just nodded, struggling to tamp down the emotional overload welling up inside him. No one had ever done anything like that for him, and he was moved by the depth of Daniel's affection for him. He cleared his throat again and said, "I know where I'm gonna be most of the time. But let's see the rest of this palace."

Daniel just chuckled and led him back into the sitting room, through another door on the same wall as the entrance to his quarters through the guest reception area. They stepped into what appeared to be a spacious but mostly empty office, with floor-to-ceiling wooden bookcases on the wall flanking the door they'd just entered. To the right, lit with track lights, was a single wall left bare. A map of the earth had been sculpted in relief from plaster and then hand painted, airbrushed in brilliant greens and blues and drab browns, breathtaking in its detail.

"Don't hang any pictures on that wall, okay?" Daniel teased, jerking his thumb toward the mural. His hands settled on his hips, his face filled with pride and affection. "This is your study, Jack. Your office, to use however you like."

Jack just stared at the room, details blurring with fatigue from all his recent travel, but part of him was aware that this was an incredible room, just like all the others he'd seen so far. He stopped with Daniel beside another fireplace, where three columns supported arched plasterwork on the walls. Daniel touched a switch on the wall beside one of the columns, and the smooth wall apparently set behind the column slid back into the wall outside the columns, leaving the arched doorways open, revealing steps down into another room.

Mouth hanging open, Jack wandered into the huge living area, head tilting back to try to take in all of it. The room was diamond shaped and the two back walls were all glass, floor to ceiling, angling toward the cliff and facing Cheyenne Mountain. The second floor was open to this great room, and Jack could see that the wide, elegantly curved staircase against the far wall went up to an enormous library. This was the room he had seen from the foot of the hill, the one in the back of the house, overlooking the city.

His gaze kept going upward, to the steeply pitched ceiling coming to a gracefully high pitch over the tall cathedral windows.

"Wow," he whispered.

"That's the reaction I was going for with this space," Daniel told him. "We'll see the south wing next, but take a moment. Look around."

Jack did just that. His gaze traveled down the two huge stone columns joining both floors to the ceiling, set on either side of the great room and framing the stepped entrance to the foyer. The floor was more of the stained concrete, most of it in earth tones, with some sort of pattern that Jack couldn't quite make out in the room's center. He strolled past a gleaming black grand piano and a rough, pale yellow limestone fireplace, taking note of the team photos on the mantel – all of them of the original SG-1, with Jack in the middle. The picture at the center was a very old photo of himself and Charlie after a fishing expedition; one he'd given to Daniel the first Christmas after Daniel's return to mortal form. Jack brushed it with his fingertips, pleased that it had been given the place of honor among the other photos.

He wandered toward the windows, gazing way up at the vaulted ceiling, and then out at the city. The view was breathtaking, and Jack had to make himself look away. He slipped his hands back into his trouser pockets and glanced back at Daniel, who was smiling at him, dimples and all, his eyes dancing with joy.

"What?" asked Jack with an answering grin of his own.

"It's just so good to have you back," Daniel told him brightly. "C'mon. Let's see the rest of the downstairs." He led the way into the south wing, where he had built an exercise room complete with chromed free-weights, a Nautilus machine, treadmill, and stair-stepper. There were also yoga mats, Pilates balls and more of the magnificent view of the city. The interior wall was made of glass blocks, and there was a stereo built into the wall adjoining the living room.

"I'll bet Teal'c loves this room," Jack observed.

"It's one of his favorites," Daniel admitted with pride, eyebrows lifting in emphasis. "He's pretty fond of the theater, too."

From there they toured Daniel's gourmet kitchen, stocked with all the best utensils and more spices than Jack knew existed. That space was separated from the dining room by a row of silk Japanese maple trees in huge Egyptian-style pots, placed just far enough apart to partially obscure the view into the kitchen, without barring the way for people carrying dishes back and forth. Tucked into a back corner was the mudroom, also walled in glass blocks, where the laundry facilities were hidden away, as well as the door into the two-car garage.

When he peeked into the garage and snapped on the overhead lights, Jack noted that Daniel still had his battered old red Jeep, but the other parking space was empty. In the back of the garage was an old Indian motorcycle, parts of it lying on the floor around it. Racks of gleaming tools hung on pegboards on the back wall, and there was also a freestanding tool cabinet that any Indy mechanic would have given his left arm to own; this had to be the space Daniel had designed specifically for Carter. Jack was pleased to see that he had thought of all of them in creating the design for his personal space; he had made this place for those who were his family, so they would also be at home here.

"Very nice," Jack told him approvingly. "Now the upstairs?"

"This way." Daniel led the way as they headed back through the utility room and dining room to a circular wall beside the foyer; no doubt the interior of the other lotus column at the front entrance. Daniel pressed a panel of hieroglyphs on the curved limestone wall. It lit up, and a moment later a portion of the wall moved sideways, revealing a small, round room. "Elevator," Daniel explained to Jack's questioning look. "For when we're too banged up to manage the stairs." He grinned and stepped inside, with Jack on his heels.

"You thought of everything, didn't you?" Jack was calculating in his head how much that round elevator must have cost. "And price was obviously no object."

"Nick Ballard made a lot of important discoveries in the field of archaeology," Daniel told him proudly, "and he apparently came from a wealthy family. I never knew about any of that."

"How much?" Jack wasn't trying to be insensitive; he was just curious.

"You don't wanna know." Daniel frowned, his gaze dropping self-consciously to the floor. "Hell, I didn't wanna know."

"That much, huh?"

"Yeah. I gave a lot of it away as grants and scholarships, in Nick's name."

"He'd have liked that, I think." Jack was keenly aware that Daniel was more uncomfortable talking about the money than about his grandfather. He was proud of Nick. He just didn't know how to be a rich man. Daniel wasn't a materialistic person, except where it came to books.

Jack smiled to himself as he glanced at the sitting room as the elevator door opened. Daniel was getting a nice start, though. All this grandeur suited him, somehow. What Jack had seen of the house so far – the antiques and paintings, the old doodads hanging on the walls and the graceful design of the rooms– made the place seem more like a museum than someone's home. Ordinary houses never seemed quite right for Daniel. This place, though, suited him because it wasn't ordinary. It was exceptional, just like Daniel was himself.

They took a quick tour of the sitting room that joined both wings on the upper floor, checking out the two extra guest bedrooms and adjoining baths, obviously decorated for Carter and Teal'c. Then they went into Daniel's huge bedroom, which included a coffee bar not far from the bed, and a small library and desk where he could work himself into a stupor every night. The master bath was also enormous, as bathrooms went, with a waterfall shower big enough for a whole family to use at once. It also featured a huge, deep, old-fashioned claw-footed tub set in front of the windows, which were paneled with "smart" glass that would go opaque at the touch of a button, for privacy, or be clear to allow a view while he soaked.

"Now for the best parts," Daniel told him, leading the way back to the sitting room. He stood before three arches, just like the ones in Jack's study, and at the touch of a button, the panels between the columns slid away, revealing the library Jack had glimpsed from the downstairs great room. They stepped through into the enormous extension of the lower floor, embracing the opening to the living area like huge arms. The walls were lined with books, and each of the nearly triangular shaped "wings" also featured floor-to-ceiling stacks of books. There were artifacts set in just the right places on the shelves and on small tables and pedestals as accents, giving the room the feel of one of the restricted rooms in the New York Public Library, where the rarest books were kept.

Jack didn't have to ask the price tag on that library. He already knew the one Daniel had at the base was worth a small fortune. Books were his one indulgence, the only real luxury he had always allowed himself, until he'd designed this new house. He must have had a blast filling this one up.

"This way," Daniel told him, nodding to the left. They went to the shelves in the far corner, and Jack leaned on the railing, looking down into the living room. The mottled colors of the floor design that he hadn't been able to figure out while standing on it were suddenly clear from this height, and he realized that the pattern was a very subtle painting of an Egyptian scarab beetle with a pair of stylized bird wings extending on either side of it, kind of like the artwork on Journey album covers. Painted on the back of the beetle was an inverted Roman V, and on the bug's head was a small circle, completing the stargate glyph for Earth.

Shaking his head, Jack looked at Daniel and grinned. "Nice painting," he observed, nodding toward the downstairs floor. "Did you get clearance for that?"

Daniel laughed a little. "Those who know will know, and those who don't, won't," he said cryptically. "C'mon. This is my pride and joy." He walked up to the bookcase next to the last one in the corner and said, "B'sholla khedeb."

There was a soft metallic click, and the bookcase moved slightly.

Jack straightened, interested. He watched Daniel take hold of the shelf and pull it toward him. It pivoted soundlessly, revealing a metal wall behind it with one of those palm scanners like they used for the iris control of the stargate.

"You'll notice there's no carpet in the library," Daniel told him, pointing at the slate flooring. "Opening the safe door would rub tracks in a carpet, giving away its position. It's free swinging, so it also doesn't scrape the floor or ceiling. Right now, it's only programmed for myself and General Hammond, but we'll be adding you to the access list, as soon as we can get the tech guy out here to do it."

"What was that thing you said to open it?"

"The lock is voice programmed, and verifies ID with a palm-print scan," explained Daniel. "That's my code key, Abydonian for 'the treasure is truth'. Think about what you might want yours to be."

"That's easy," Jack shot back. "Open sesame!"

Daniel just grinned and shook his head. "I owe General Hammond twenty bucks now, Jack. Thanks."

"You guys bet on me?"

"I thought it would be something from pop culture, along the lines of, 'Hail, Dorothy,' or 'Mmmmm, donuts.' Instead, you went with a totally unexpected folklore reference."

"I'm nothing if not versatile," Jack returned playfully.

With a low chuckle, Daniel put his palm on the scanner, and the wall opened with the hiss of breaking a vacuum seal. "The room is climate controlled, zero humidity, to protect the more delicate items in the collection I inherited from Nick. It's also great for the sinuses." Daniel led the way into the room, and stood aside to gesture toward the clear acrylic shelves lined with black and burgundy velvet to protect the surfaces of the rare books and artifacts stored in the huge safe room.

"And if I bring something home to work on that needs to be protected," Daniel added, "this is where I put it for the night."

Jack knew without asking that almost every object in that room was worth a small fortune. The look on Daniel's face told him plenty – these were things he had inherited from his grandfather, personal things that had sentimental value. Daniel was highly respectful of the antiquities he owned and handled on a daily basis, and many of those were expensive and rare in their own right, but this room had been built to keep safe the things Daniel didn't want to be lost, things that had touched his heart.

Wandering up to a small clay jar, Jack read the neatly printed card that sat beside it.

From the collection of Dr. Nicholas Ballard, clay urn, Thebes, 2200 BC.

Pretty much everything in the room had belonged at one time to Daniel's parents or grandfather, except for two items. One was the scrapbook many of the staff at the SGC had made for Daniel as a Christmas gift the first year he returned from being ascended, and the other was a Sphynx-like figure molded from what appeared to be lead, reclining on its belly in the shape of the Egyptian monument, but rather than a too-small human head, it had the head of an unfamiliar animal. Stylized marks covered the sides and flanks of the beast, but what held Jack's gaze was the symbol carved into a pendant hanging from the creature's neck. The pendant was circular, and bore the Earth glyph from the stargate. Between its paws sat a small circle with nine chevrons incised into it – a miniature stargate.

Sitting beside it, Jack read the display card.

From the collection of Dr. Daniel Jackson, Giza Plateau, 1987. Substance unknown.

Jack pointed at it. "I've never seen this before," he said to his friend. "It wasn't with your stuff when you... you know." He didn't want to say that word that made him so uncomfortable. Dead and ascended were pretty much the same thing in his book. He just pointed skyward.

Daniel's pride in the statue was obvious. He wandered over while he talked, staring lovingly at it. "It's the single most valuable thing I ever found," he told Jack. "I left it at the Oriental Institute for a long time, locked away in their vault to keep it safe, but I never forgot it was there. I just didn't have a place to keep it where I thought it'd be safe." He glanced around the room, and then finally at Jack. "Until now. Do you know what I think this is?" His fingers lovingly stroked the back of the statue's neck, as if he were petting it.

Intuition leaped into Jack's mind as he studied it. "The original Sphynx?"

His friend beamed at him. "I'm impressed. And yes, I believe this was a model for the original design. I think it may have been built by the Ancients more than 10,000 years ago, showing the original location of the 'gate."

"Did you have it carbon-dated?"

Daniel shook his head. "Wouldn't prove anything," he said sadly. "With materials like this, it'd be pointless. It's made of naquadah, Jack. We didn't know that at the time, back when I discovered it; just that it was an unidentified material. And even if it had been made of common metals, we couldn't tell anything about when it was carved or molded into this form. It's always been an enigma, but one I knew was important. You know what else?"

"The inscriptions are in Ancient?"

With a laugh, Daniel nodded his head. "Right again. I couldn't translate them before, but I can now, and already have. It's a key; to what, we don't know yet, but it could be important. We have to keep looking for the lock."

"Knowing you, it probably is important, and if anybody can figure it out, it'll be the one and only Doctor Daniel Jackson." Jack patted him on the shoulder.

Warmth filled his friend's face, and joy shone in his eyes. "C'mon. There's one more thing I wanna show you, and then you can settle in and get some rest undisturbed." He led the way out of the safe room and locked it up, hiding it again behind the bookshelf.

He took Jack back to the sitting room, stopping by a door situated between the circular staircase and the elevator at the front of the building. "Go on out," Daniel told him. "Have a look around. I've got some work to do, so I'll leave you alone for a while. Make yourself at home. Unpack, raid the fridge, if you want, and I'll see you later, okay?"

Jack nodded, intuition already kicking in. A wave of emotion pulled him under, choked him up, and he just nodded. When Daniel extended his hand, Jack shook it firmly.

"Welcome home," Daniel told him, beaming.

Swallowing hard, Jack thanked him and watched as he turned away and headed back into the library. When Daniel was out of sight, Jack opened the door and stepped out on the second-story deck he'd admired from the front entrance. The first thing he saw was the telescope – a much nicer one than he had tucked away in storage with his furniture – sitting beside a comfortable, padded patio chair and a small glass-and-wrought iron table. Those items had been placed in the center of the balcony, just for him. Tucked away in a corner beside the door were a pair of chaise lounges, with little tables next to them for holding drinks and snacks. There were unlit candles for atmosphere and a small, weather-proof electric lamp on one table, presumably to aid with reading.

Apparently, Daniel had plans to occasionally join Jack for stargazing, and that made Jack smile all over again. The amount of thought, work, and money Daniel had put into creating a place where Jack would feel at home was simply amazing. Having Daniel for a friend left Jack owing a heavy karmic debt he felt sure he'd be paying on for a very long time. They didn't come any better than Doctor Jackson.

He sat down in the chair and uncapped the lenses on the telescope, telling himself he'd just have a peek before going back downstairs to unpack.

Three Weeks Later, P3X-719

Daniel scrubbed at the piece of pottery with a soft-bristled toothbrush, carefully removing the dirt that obscured the incised writing on its aged surface. It was hot, a merciless double sun beating down on him. Sweat poured off his forehead and partially blinded him as it dripped into his eyes, shadowed beneath his boonie hat. Colonel Jim Reynolds, the new CO for SG-1, stood in the distance with Teal'c and kept watch.

Jackson sat back on his heels, pushed his hat back and pulled his scarf from a vest pocket. Wrapping it over the top of his head, he tied it at his nape to absorb the sweat and put his hat back on top of the bandana to shade his eyes. He fetched his canteen and took a long swallow of water, glancing over at his nearest teammate.

Sam was busy with soil and mineral samples, cataloguing them and preparing them for transport back to the base.

"Hey, Sam, how about coming over for dinner Friday night? We're due a little downtime, and I thought we could--"

She didn't even look up from her work. "Sorry, Daniel, but I'm busy. Got a research project I'll be working on with Doctor Lee."

"You can't take a couple of hours out for dinner with your teammates?" he prodded gently. "Jim and Teal'c will be there."

This time, she gave him a wary look. "Maybe some other time, Daniel," she told him, an edge of warning in her voice.

He summoned up his courage, aiming to get this confrontation done. "You haven't been over to my house since Jack came back, Sam. I miss you, and I'm sure Jack would enjoy seeing you again."

"I have nothing to say to him," she shot back coldly.

Daniel sighed and screwed the cap back onto his canteen. "Jack is exactly the same man he was before you knew he was gay. He hasn't changed. You did, as soon as you knew the truth."

"He lied to us," she snapped, glaring at him now. "He can't be trusted."

"You trusted him for seven years," Daniel reminded her quietly. "You respected him, knowing he was one of the best officers the Air Force had. He's still the same man, Sam, and he cares about you."

"He's a queer, Daniel," she growled. "He hid that from all of us."

"He couldn't even admit it to himself," Daniel returned emphatically. "How in hell can you have expected him to come out to us? And anyway, he's never been with another guy. I told you that already. Why won't you accept him for who he is? As soon as he admitted it to himself, as soon as 'don't ask/don't tell' ended, he told us. He treated us with honor and respect. We should do the same with him."

"I guess I'm just not as liberal as you are," Sam admitted harshly. "I can't forgive and forget. I'll work with him if I have to, but I don't have to like it, and I don't intend to spend my free time hanging out with people like that."

She got up, dusted off her BDU pants and stalked off just as Reynolds strolled up.

"Jeez, what pissed her off, Dan?" he asked quietly, watching his 2IC disappear into the distance.

Daniel sighed. "I was trying to be the peacemaker again." He shook his head and set his canteen aside. "Still no success."

Jim eyed his linguist. "Her and Jack?"

Daniel nodded, turning his gaze back to the pottery shard.

"Don't you understand why this is so hard for Carter?" asked Jim softly. "She had a thing for him, buddy. She'd never have done what it took to be free to take him out for a test drive, but the interest was there; a blind man could've seen it. And then when she found out it was all one-sided..." He shrugged. "Gal's got a big ego, Dan. Jack put a pretty significant dent in it."

"He didn't do it on purpose," Daniel said defensively. "He didn't want to hurt her, but he had to be honest, once he realized he was gay." He looked up at his commanding officer. "You okay with all this?"

Reynolds pursed his lips thoughtfully. "My youngest brother lives in Boston and is legally married to another guy. Our folks took it pretty hard at first, but they're okay with it now." He shrugged. "It's funny how opinions change on the subject, when you find out someone you love is gay." He chuckled. "Yeah, I'm okay with it, Doc. Jack's still the same ol' Jack, in my book."

Daniel smiled up at him, his relieved grin turning to a look of horror as he saw an enormous alien creature rising up behind the ridge of stone on which Jim Reynolds stood. Daniel didn't even have time to move or yell a warning before it struck.

The Colonel never even knew what killed him.

***

Jack stared out the window at the black silhouette of the mountain in the distance. Daniel was away on a mission, so he had the house to himself. It was late, and he ought to be in bed getting some sleep, but he was restless, a familiar feeling of need gnawing insistently at his guts. Now that he was back in the Springs it rarely left him alone, and coupled with the isolation he felt from nearly everyone, it was getting harder to resist. He was fighting a constant struggle with depression; returning to the place that had been his home for so long had helped, but not enough.

He swirled the whiskey around in the tumbler in his hand, looking down into the golden liquid. For close to a year he'd been battling this urge, and now he made the decision to finally satisfy his curiosity. He drained the glass, carried it into the kitchen and put it in the dishwasher.

Ambling into the bedroom, he rifled through his closet until he found the cardboard box. It hadn't even been opened; still sealed with shipping tape. He'd ordered it a few months after relocating to Moore AFB and then put it away when it arrived, embarrassed that he'd been so weak and desperate as to even consider this. Now it was eating at him again, and added to the loneliness and despair that were his constant companions, he simply couldn't fight it any longer.

Without even really looking at it, he took it out of the box and carried the object into the bathroom. He soaped it up and scrubbed it thoroughly under a stream of hot water, dried it off and returned to his bedroom, where he tossed it onto the bed. He got undressed, neatly laying his clothes aside on a chair. When he was naked, he peeled back the covers and got under them, then retrieved the thing he had so carelessly tossed aside, taking his first good look at it.

The ad text on the internet web page had declared it to be sculpted to realistic detail. Aside from the fact that it was made of semi-hard rubber, it did look amazingly true to form. The helmeted head had a tiny slit indented in the top; veins traveled down the long shaft and even the balls had the right texture to them, though they weren't soft like real ones. All that was missing was hair, body heat and a human smell, rather than the odor of latex.

Jack had never seen another man's erect penis up close, and he fondled and explored it with interest, running his fingertips all over the surface. He used his imagination, trying to picture the device attached to a warm body and waving in his face. He closed his eyes and brought it closer, stroking it against his cheek, his eyelids, his lips.

His heartbeat thrummed faster in his chest. Heat rushed to his belly, and he felt his cock filling. It would be so good, to be this close to him, to feel his rough hands stroking through Jack's hair. He kissed the side of the dildo's shaft, a groan of pleasure slipping out of him. He ignored the artificial taste, letting his imagination fill in the right flavor, musky and male, slightly salty, and so hot against his lips.

A dam burst inside him. He couldn't lie still, needing to move, to feel that cock filling him. He reached for the nightstand, jerking open the drawer and scrambling around in it for the lube he'd put there. The tube was brand new, specially formulated for use with latex toys, and with trembling fingers, he squeezed a little of it out, coating the head completely. Instinct told him that wouldn't be enough, and he gripped the tube harder. When he had the dildo covered, he rolled onto his side, his legs tangling in the covers, and savagely kicked the blankets out of the way.

With slick fingers, he aimed the tool and pushed, but it wouldn't go in. He tried again, pushing harder, but his hand just slid along the lubricated shaft without making any progress. Pulling the dildo in front of him, he held it with his left hand and used the fingers of his right to probe the tight ring of muscle, forcing his way inside himself.

Slowly, he began to twirl his finger around, exploring his depths as he had so often in the past. He pushed deeper, as deeply as he could go, moaning at the familiar feeling of fullness. Wanting more, he gently added another finger, and another, stretching himself wide. He pumped languidly, aching at the wonderful heat, the sweet pain of penetration. This was what turned him on, what had always pushed him over the top when he'd been with women, but now, he was going to be fucked by a dick, big and hard and male.

He opened his eyes and gazed at the tool still clutched in his left hand, his breathing shallow and fast, imagining his lover lying beside him. In his mind, the beautiful man climbed over him, stroking him all over, spooning up behind him. Jack moved the dildo to his right hand and pressed it against himself again, picturing his lover's hips pushing slowly, gently, lovingly as he entered him. The sensation was so strange, so shocking; he held his body still while he pushed, trying to wrap his mind around the experience.

Jack's breath caught as the head slipped inside. It hurt, but rather than pull away from the pain, he found himself pushing back against it. The dildo slipped deeper. Jack could hardly breathe, keening softly, heart pounding in his chest. It was everything he had never allowed himself to dream it could be, complete with the softly whispered words of love and desire echoing in his imagination.

He shoved the dildo all the way inside, working it back and forth gently, slowly; the fake balls mashing up against his ass. His whole body shook, his own need rising, expanding until it consumed him. He needed more, needed to feel his lover come, needed his own release, some touch of a loving hand on his body, heated lips around his own cock. He heard himself crying out, moaning and gasping, crazed with pleasure and need. His left hand caught his cock and pulled at it while he fucked himself hard with the dildo, pushing himself over the edge with a wild yell as he shot come all over his hand and the sheets.

The whole thing felt as if it had taken him about a minute and a half, but he didn't care.

For several moments, he didn't move, just lying still with his arms limp and drained. When he could summon enough energy to stir, his fingertips prowled the shape of the device implanted between his softly furred cheeks. He loved this, and was stunned at how utterly complete he felt. This was so much more than he'd ever felt with a woman, so right and fulfilling. All he needed was the reality of a warm body snuggled up against his backside, a heavy, muscular arm draped over his waist, a deep, husky voice whispering to him about love and forever, against the nape of his neck.

God, it was so good! It wrecked him, tears squeezing out from beneath tightly closed eyelids. As his breathing and heartbeat slowed to normal, he drifted slowly off to sleep, dreaming of his fantasy lover, soaring into bliss such as he had never believed possible.

Powerful, strong hands, molding his body, making it pliable and loose. Soft lips, chin roughened by stubble, stroking across his throat, kissing downward. Hot, silken tongue, laving his collarbones and dipping into the hollow between them. Hard, swollen cock thrusting against his belly, now pumping between his thighs. Turning, aching for more, being filled, stretched and pleasured until he moaned, begging for more, harder, faster.

"Jack."

That deep, sweet, familiar voice, feather light against his ears. Warm breath against his skin, making his body sing with need. A glimpse over his shoulder of bright blue eyes, burning with passion.

"Jack."

He knew that voice, welcomed the thick cock filling him up. His heart expanded with joy until it was unbearable, his lover's name on the tip of his tongue. He moaned, clenching his muscles around that glorious dick inside him.

"Da--"

"Jack? Are you okay?"

Instantly, Jack was awake. Covers were tangled all around his body. The room was dark, save for a shaft of moonlight coming in through a small crack between the heavy curtains. A dim light in the sitting room illuminated a figure standing at the threshold of his bedroom, and he recognized the shape as Daniel Jackson.

Jack's guts clenched in panic. His heart slammed against his ribs, hands fisting up in the covers and pulling them up over himself.

He still had the dildo plugged into his ass, his cock was rock hard again, and Daniel was standing in the doorway, looking at him.

Had Daniel seen that thing sticking out of him? Had the blankets covered him up enough to hide it? Oh, God, if Daniel knew what he'd been doing, Jack would die of shame right there on the spot.

"I'm fine," he squeaked. He couldn't turn over onto his back with the dildo in him, and propped up on one elbow, acutely aware of the fullness in his guts. "Just... ah... Just dreaming, I guess." He suddenly realized Daniel wasn't supposed to be home yet. "I thought you weren't due back for three more days?"

"Mission was cut short," Daniel replied listlessly. He hesitated. "Um... are you alone in there?"

A wave of relief swept through Jack. That told him that Daniel couldn't see him in the bed; the room was too dark and shadowy. He gave a half-smothered little laugh of relief and said, "Yeah, I'm all by my lonesome in here. You okay?"

"Fine," came the standard reply. "Just checking on you. G'night."

Jack watched as the silhouette turned around slowly and limped off across the sitting room.

Daniel was hurt, and probably exhausted. There had been trouble; he might need to talk about it. As soon as Jack was sure his friend was gone, he reached back and pulled the toy free, threw back the covers, and hurried to the bathroom with it. He washed it off and stuck it back in the box, shoving it into the back of the closet again. He took a quick shower to rinse away the dried come and lube, and dressed hurriedly in a T-shirt and sweats.

He found Daniel on the sofa in the living room, and Jack's heart clenched in his chest. There were scratches and bruises all over his face. He was wearing a patch over one eye, and gauze and tape were sticking out from underneath it. His right arm was in a sling and one foot was wrapped in bandages.

"You want some Tylenol or something?" Jack asked gently. He thought about sitting down beside Daniel, but his ass was still tender and he didn't want to wince in front of his friend, because Daniel would be sure to notice. "Can I get you anything?"

Daniel shook his head. He didn't speak. His gaze stayed on the floor.

"What happened?" Jack took a deep breath as intuition hit him like a punch in the gut. "Did everyone make it?"

After a pause, Daniel shook his head again. Tears welled up in his exposed eye and spilled over his cheek.

Jack sat down next to him, ignoring his own discomfort, and pulled Daniel into his arms.

"Is Carter okay?" he asked tentatively. "Teal'c?"

After each name, Daniel nodded his head, struggling to hold back his sobs, and finally letting them free.

That left only one possibility. Reynolds hadn't made it.

Jack wanted to ask for details, but at that moment, Daniel wouldn't have been able to answer him. Jack held him, rocking him gently, letting him cry out his grief and relishing the feel of him in his arms. He felt guilty for the pleasure it gave him, but part of him hung onto that fiercely, because he needed the closeness.

The urge to kiss Daniel was strong and sudden, as was the need to tell him that it would be all right. He wanted to protect him, to stand between Daniel and anything that might hurt him, and in that moment, in that cocoon of raw emotion that encompassed them, he remembered the face of the man he had been dreaming about moments earlier, and finally knew the identity of the lover he had kept so well hidden from himself.

It was Daniel, his friend and teammate for so many years. He was in love with his best friend, and realized that he had been for a very long time.

The epiphany cut his heart to ribbons, for this was the one man with whom he could never share a sexual relationship, and Jack knew that no one else would ever mean as much to him as Daniel did. He had kept his heart in reserve for good reason – because he'd lost it long ago, and it wasn't his to give any longer.

He held back his own tears, putting his own new pain aside to offer Daniel his strength and compassion when it was needed most. Daniel was the important one, and he concentrated on comforting his friend – the man he loved – the best way he knew how.

"We weren't paying attention," Daniel sobbed. "I was arguing with Sam, and she left. Jim came up to check on us, and this... this thing--" His voice broke.

Jack held him tighter, cradling him against his chest, hands stroking Daniel's hair.

"This thing came up out of nowhere," Daniel wailed. "It killed Jim. I couldn't do anything. I was too slow."

Grief burned in Jack's heart. "You did what you could," he said confidently. "You killed it, didn't you?"

Daniel's head nodded against his shirt. "I was too late."

"Anybody else hurt?" Jack's stomach lurched, wondering how much damage the team had suffered.

"Sam and Teal'c are okay," whispered Daniel, "but Jim. Oh God, Jack. It tore him apart!"

Jack could imagine the horror that Daniel had seen. He understood this kind of trauma, and knew it would take some time and counseling for Daniel to get through it, but he would make it. Right now, it was important for Daniel to rest and heal.

"You're home now," Jack murmured, stroking him fondly. "Did Doc Brightman give you something to help you sleep?"

Daniel sniffed a little, wiped his face on his sleeve and sat up, his shoulders slumped, head down in defeat. "I don't wanna sleep."

"Maybe not, but it's what you need right now." Jack held out his hand.

Obediently, Daniel pulled the packet of pills from his shirt pocket and put them into Jack's palm.

"C'mon, Danny." Jack stood up and pulled his friend to his feet. He put his arm around Daniel's shoulders and walked him up the stairs. While Daniel got undressed, Jack fetched a glass of water, opened the pill packet into his hand and returned to Daniel's bedside.

"Want me to stay with you?" he asked quietly.

Daniel took off his glasses and set them on the nightstand, took the medication obediently and handed Jack the glass.

"I'll be okay, Jack. You get some rest." Daniel sighed forlornly. "Sorry I woke you. I just." He shrugged and bowed his head.

Jack lifted the covers and tucked Daniel in. "It's okay. That's what friends are for." He snapped off the lamp and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, watching over the man he loved as he settled down to sleep. "I'll be close by, if you need me," he whispered.

"Thanks, Jack."

He returned to his own room and changed the sheets. For a long time, he stood at the window, looking out at the city, thinking. That half-remembered dream merged with his earlier fantasy until he could feel Daniel's hands on him, Daniel's breath hot against the back of his neck, Daniel's cock filling him up.

Jack went to his closet, took the box with the dildo in it and secreted it in the bottom of the kitchen trash. He didn't want that thing anymore. He knew what it felt like now, and that was enough. He'd just have to get through the rest of his life without satisfaction, because the one person he wanted was unavailable, and no one else would do.

He climbed into his bed alone and let his tears free in the silence, mourning the loss of Jim Reynolds, his old friend, as well as the death of his dreams.

Three Days Later

Daniel smiled at people and tended bar in his kitchen, making sure the food trays stayed replenished during the Irish wake for Colonel Reynolds. Keeping busy was a good thing, preventing him from thinking about the disastrous mission he, Sam and Teal'c had survived. In moments of silence, he kept remembering Jim's surprised face as the alien creature killed him, the sight of it still haunting his attempts to sleep. He needed to stay active, to occupy his mind, to keep it from going back to that terrible place where he'd lost his CO and friend.

Jack hovered nearby, glancing at him now and then, a bottle of beer in his hand. Daniel was grateful that, whenever there were moments when the activity would lull, Jack would suddenly appear to ask him questions, get him started again, help him keep going. Jack acted as host, keeping the attendees circulating and talking, remembering Jim Reynolds fondly, sharing their grief, celebrating his life. Jack was good at that, and it left Daniel free to concentrate on the mundane physical tasks that kept his mind away from the emotional issues.

Hours passed, and Daniel was exhausted. The patch was gone now, but his eye still felt gritty and uncomfortable and was terribly bloodshot. Most of the bruises and scratches were healing. His injured leg ached, but he resisted taking any of the pain meds that Doctor Brightman had given him. That would just make him sleepy, and he didn't want to sleep. Not for a long time. Not until the other pain went away.

Feeling a presence at his elbow as he took another tray of bacon-wrapped scallops from the broiler, Daniel turned to glance up into Teal'c's impassive face. There was sympathy and caring in the Jaffa's dark eyes. Daniel reached up and turned off the oven, and Teal'c followed him over to the island bar, where he set the hot tray down on a trivet.

"The guests are all leaving, DanielJackson," he stated quietly. "There is no need for additional refreshments."

Daniel looked up, astonished to find only a handful of people at the far end of the dining room, wandering slowly toward the foyer. Jack was in their midst, thanking them for coming. Looking at the various bowls, platters and trays set out on the bar, Daniel heaved a heavy sigh. "I guess I overdid it, huh?"

"You had a need to act," Teal'c observed wisely. He put his hand on Daniel's shoulder. "It was not your fault, my friend."

Turning a pained, sad smile up to the Jaffa, Daniel nodded. "I know, Teal'c, and thank you. There was nothing any of us could have done that we didn't do. We brought Jim home, and that's something." He swallowed hard, adding, "Most of him, anyway." Remembering, he closed his eyes against the tears that threatened. "God, I'm so sorry."

Teal'c squeezed his shoulder in sympathy. "As are we all, DanielJackson. ColonelReynolds will be missed." He pulled back. "But the war will go on. There will be more losses before we succeed, but we cannot lose hope. We must continue to fight."

Daniel felt himself settling into his grief, the sharp edges finally losing their hold on his heart. It felt a little like relief, and he knew that the worst was over now. He'd be able to rest a little, but it would be some time before their loss released its hold on him completely.

Lifting his gaze, he eyed Jack, shaking hands with General Hammond near the foyer entrance. He knew Jack was hurting, too, because Reynolds had been a long-time friend, but somehow Jack always managed to stand up and shrug off whatever life dealt him. The only time Jack had ever failed at that was when he'd lost Charlie, and even then, he'd given the appearance of dealing with his grief, though it had been tearing him apart inside. On the Abydos mission, Daniel had slowly become aware of Jack's death wish and helped him rediscover reasons to live, reasons that had helped him survive his grief and return home. Jack had been alone since then, and lonely. Daniel knew he just covered it well.

"He needs someone to love, Teal'c," Daniel murmured. "Why won't he allow himself that?"

"O'Neill does not trust easily," the Jaffa returned quietly. He cocked his head thoughtfully. "Do you not also need to be loved, DanielJackson?"

"Trust comes with knowledge," said Daniel, "but this isn't about me. Jack needs to date, to find a good man and get to know him. He's got to put some effort into it, or he'll never..." Shrugging, he realized that he and Teal'c had discussed this many times over the last year and a half. This wasn't something either one of them could fix. Only Jack himself could change his own situation. "There's no point to coming out, if he's not going to follow his instincts and BE gay. I want to help him, Teal'c, but I don't know how."

After a long moment of silence, Daniel dragged his gaze from Jack to his tall friend. "What?"

"I believe you do know how to help him, DanielJackson," Teal'c rumbled. "In fact, I believe you are the only one who can."

Daniel's mouth shrank up to a small 'o' as his eyes widened. "I." He cleared his throat. "Um." He raised one finger in the air, intending to make a point, but all logic fled in the face of the veiled suggestion the Jaffa had just made. "But." He scratched at a spot on his cheek with that same finger, his mind now running in circles. This wasn't the first time this idea had come up in the last eighteen months, but this time the whirlwind arguments seemed to settle into the quiet acceptance of inevitability. He sighed out the last protest. "Yeah. I know. You're right, Teal'c. One of us should help him, and I think he'd be more comfortable with me."

"If you cannot..." Teal'c let the offer hang.

"I'll let you know." Daniel nodded, looking up at his friend. "Anything for Jack, right?"

Teal'c nodded in agreement. "Agreed." He gave Daniel a slight bow. "It was an excellent gathering, my friend."

"Thank you, Teal'c. Good night." He recognized the Jaffa's preparation to return to the base, subtle gestures that had become ingrained over the decade they'd known each other. He watched as the big man went over to Jack to bid him adieu.

Turning back to the leftovers, Daniel started to wrap up the food that would keep and throw out what wouldn't. As he worked, he began to turn over the problem of Jack's reluctance to adapt to his true nature, and how he might go about helping his friend tear down the tower walls he'd built around himself. He'd have to be careful, and he'd have to be smart. He'd need an answer to every objection, because Jack would be objecting plenty, but Teal'c was right; there was only one person who could get under Jack O'Neill's radar and sneak up on him unawares.

If Jack were ever going to know what it felt like to hold another man in his arms, he was going to have to start with someone he already trusted, someone he knew well – someone who already owned a piece of his heart.

And no one was closer to Jack than he was. No one. That left only one choice, and Daniel accepted the mission with open eyes and fierce determination. He would make sure Jack found someone to love, no matter what it took. Jack had gotten under Daniel's skin long ago, way more than any of his oldest friends; way more than anyone else ever had. No one meant as much to Daniel, and he didn't intend to let Jack be lonely and unfulfilled.

Jack just needed a push in the right direction, and Daniel was just the one to give it to him.

Three Weeks Later

Daniel guided the Jeep into a parking space and turned off the ignition, chattering away about nothing in particular, hoping to keep his passenger distracted until they were inside the nightclub.

"Take me home, " Jack interrupted, scowling at the sign above the door.

"We just got here, " Daniel protested with a frown. "C'mon, let me buy you a drink or two."

Jack didn't unbuckle his seatbelt. "I do not need to go into a gay bar looking for a date," he announced with a glare. "Take me the fuck home."

Loosing an exasperated sigh, Daniel turned in his seat and faced his friend fully. "Just humor me, please? I'm gathering intel, here."

"On what, pray tell?" Jack demanded irritably. His eyes were narrowed and dangerous, clearly revealing his opinion of Daniel's subterfuge.

"On what kind of men you like?" he asked hopefully.

"Doesn't matter what kind of men I like," Jack shot back. "I'm not going to be sleepin' with any, so just drop this whole stupid idea and quit buggin' me about my lack of a sex life."

"What are you afraid of?" Daniel asked gently. "All you have to lose is loneliness. You have so much to gain, and you won't even try to find someone. I don't understand why you're acting like this."

Jack's eyes glittered darkly. "I don't see you with a woman on your arm, Daniel, and you don't see me sittin' here trying to fix you up."

"That's different," Daniel returned. "I've had the experience of being with women, of being thoroughly loved by one. You haven't had that experience with your partner of choice yet. You should at least know what it's like, before you cancel it out of your life completely."

"It's not a requirement," Jack snapped. "I'm a full-fledged adult, and I can wallow in my ignorance all I want."

Daniel sat back in his seat, defeated before he even began. Jack was being unreasonably stubborn about all this. Maybe Daniel had been wrong about trying to spring the evening out as a surprise on his friend. He probably should have at least discussed it with Jack beforehand, but catching him by surprise had seemed like a good idea at the time.

"Okay, I promise not to try to fix you up," Daniel agreed at last, "but we haven't been out together in a while. Can't we just go in for a couple of drinks, talk a little, and then go home?"

"Who's driving?"

"Flip a coin for it?"

Jack got out, fished a coin from his pocket and tossed it on the parking lot after calling 'heads.'

Daniel kept the tease on his mind to himself and squatted down to retrieve the coin. "Tails. You're drinking." He scooped the coin up and handed it back to his friend, then followed him into the bar.

The music was just loud enough to provide an audible background without interfering with conversation. They took their seats at the bar, and Daniel was quick to point out that this establishment had their own microbrewery in the back. When Jack didn't make any attempt to settle in, Daniel ordered a beer for Jack, and a virgin Margarita for himself.

Daniel sat on his stool and faced the interior of the club. The lights were low; the atmosphere high class and elegant. The men populating the place were well dressed in a variety of fashions, from cowboy chic to business suits; obviously a well-heeled clientele.

He noted that most were in good physical condition, and reasonably attractive. Most of the patrons were late 20's to early 40's, with darn few as old as Jack, but Daniel was sure his friend could have his pick, if the glances turned their way were any indication. He studied Jack, trying to figure out what men looked for in other men.

"You're getting a lot of notice," Daniel offered, trying to get Jack to participate.

"They're lookin' at you, Daniel," Jack muttered, his back to the room.

"How would you know? You can't even see them." Daniel accepted his drink, licked the rim of the glass for a taste of salt, then swallowed a sip. "Good Margarita." He pulled a few bills from his wallet and handed them to the bartender.

The young man gave him a bright smile as he took the money. "Thanks, honey. You let me know if I can get anything for you, okay?" He winked.

"Yeah, thanks." Daniel smiled politely as he put his wallet back into his pocket.

The bartender sauntered off to prepare someone else's drink.

"Flirt," Jack accused, sipping his beer.

"Huh?"

"You gave him the dimples, Daniel," Jack explained. "He called you 'honey.' The poor boy is smitten now."

"Oh, come on, Jack. He is not." The thought of inadvertently coming on to the young man shook Daniel up a little. "I wasn't flirting. I was just paying for our drinks."

"You're in a gay bar with what everyone here thinks is your date, and these guys probably think you're one of them. You're hot, and every guy in the place is sizing you up, trying to figure out how to approach you without pissing off your hardass boyfriend. Including the bartender." He took a sip of the beer. "Good beer, too, but I'm not gonna compliment the hired help on it."

"Jack, you're not my date."

"You and I know that, but nobody else in here does." Jack turned to meet his flustered gaze. "You wanna take a stroll out on the dance floor and prove me wrong? Heads will turn, I guarantee."

"Um, no, thanks." Embarrassed, Daniel faced the bar, staring self-consciously down into his salted glass. He pondered their circumstances, then shot Jack a sly glance. "Why don't you take that stroll instead? I'll bet you get some appreciative glances. You're a good looking guy, you know."

Jack frowned at him, his eyes dark and stormy beneath his brows. "How would you know?"

"I have eyes," Daniel explained casually. "I may not be wired the same as you, but I understand the basic concept of human attractiveness, and recognize when others meet that criteria. Your features are well balanced, and you're in excellent physical condition; therefore, attractive. Maybe even handsome. I'm not quite sure about that, because I don't have the same frame of reference as you."

Jack grunted at that appraisal. His attention had wandered back to his beer mug halfway through the dissertation. "I'm old, Daniel," Jack argued flatly. "Nobody wants a cranky old fart like me."

"I would, if I were gay." He meant that to be reassuring, encouraging to his friend.

The mug stopped halfway to Jack's lips for a moment, then continued on its way. There seemed to be even more tension in Jack's expression when he set the glass down again. He didn't make eye contact. "Yeah, well, you're not gay, so it doesn't matter. I'm not putting myself out there, and that's that. We've been over this, Daniel."

The bartender returned when he'd finished serving his other customers. He tilted his head, flashed another smile, and asked, "Anything else I can get you?" He leaned one elbow on the bar and dropped his voice seductively. "Coffee? Tea? How 'bout me, Beautiful?"

Daniel's mouth went dry as he stared up into interested blue eyes. "Um, no, thanks. This'll be enough for the moment." He cleared his throat. "And while I appreciate the attention, I'm not gay. Just so you know. My buddy, here, is, though."

A glance at Jack's face showed Daniel that his friend was horrified by that exchange.

The young man took a brief, appraising glance at Jack, then shifted his eyes back to Daniel. "Well, it's a pity you're straight," he announced. "You're the hottest guy to come in this place in a month of Sundays. I hope the ladies in your life know how lucky they are." He winked at Daniel again and moved off to refill Jack's glass.

"Toldja," Jack muttered. "With you sitting next to me, I might as well be invisible."

"You could come by yourself sometime," Daniel offered helpfully.

The look Jack gave him left scorch marks.

"Come on, I'm not that good looking," Daniel waved his hands around. "I'm just kind of average. I have no idea what that bartender was seeing, but it wasn't me."

"You have no idea what you look like to other people, Daniel," said Jack. "Your self image is skewed. You've spent your whole life paying so little attention to the package you carry your brain around in, you can't see yourself clearly."

Daniel just stared at him, watching Jack drain the rest of the beer from his glass and give the bartender a nod for a refill. "So... you think I'm hot, too?"

Those brown eyes could've burned a hole through him. "Didn't you hear me when I said it earlier? We need to have Brightman check your ears next time we're in the infirmary."

For a moment, Daniel's mind quit working. Jack thought he was attractive? That was a surprise. And it made him damn curious.

He leaned closer, shoulder-to-shoulder with his friend, speaking conspiratorially while the bartender pulled another beer from the nearby tap. "So tell me about your dream guy," he prodded with a smile. "I really wanna know, Jack."

The older man sighed as the mug appeared in front of him, and looked down into the foamy head as the bartender moved away. "I've spent most of my life not dreaming, keeping myself from thinking about it. I'm not sure I really know." He sighed. "I'm not sure I want to know."

"Then how will you recognize him, if he walks into your life? C'mon. Think about it." He nudged Jack's shoulder a little with his own. " What do you want in a lover?"

Jack stared into his beer. He took a long drink, set the mug down, stared at it some more, then drained the glass. "Pay for my beer and take me home," he told Daniel, rising off his barstool.

"Not until you promise to tell me," Daniel teased.

For the first time, Jack looked around the room, his chin dipped down, eyes intense. Daniel knew that expression; he was threat-assessing, not looking for love. And with that attitude, he wasn't going to find it in this bar or anywhere else.

Daniel peeled off some bills and settled up with the bartender, then walked Jack out to the Jeep. "Still thinking?" he asked.

Jack leaned his butt against the side of the vehicle while Daniel unlocked his door. He stared pensively down at his boots. "Well, the shallow side of me demands that he be hot."

"As in pretty, or ruggedly handsome?" asked Daniel.

Those dark eyes rolled up to meet his with a gleam of irritation.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt; I just wanted clarification. There are all kinds of hot, you know."

Jack's frown eased. He stepped aside as Daniel opened his door for him. "Somewhere in between," he admitted. "Attractive-guy hot. Not too pretty, not too butch. Someone who'd pass for straight. No limp wrists or lisps. A regular-guy guy."

Hurrying around the front bumper, Daniel bounced into the driver's seat and shut the door. He started the engine, waiting for Jack to continue at his own pace.

"He'd be about my size, maybe a little huskier. More muscular. I like that. But not as muscle-bound as Teal'c. That would just be scary."

"Okay. What else?"

"He has to be gentle, even though he's a big guy. Sincere, honest, loyal." Jack frowned. "Good conversationalist, because I have a tendency to talk in bed." He hesitated, glancing out the window. "Afterward, I mean."

"After sex," Daniel clarified. "What else? Coloring? Education? Religious persuasion? Political party?"

Jack's eyes rolled toward him. "None of that matters, but if you must know, I'd prefer he be pretty much opposite of me on most counts. Smart. Spiritual, but not necessarily religious. Left-wing, but able to see my point of view. I want spirited. I want sparks to fly when we talk to each other. Opposing viewpoints can make for stimulating conversations that can lead to other stimulating things."

Daniel shot him a big grin. "Strong sex drive? Would that be a qualification?"

Jack's expression went wistful. "I'd love it if he couldn't keep his hands off me," he admitted quietly, "but I'm also getting older and stuff may not always work like it used to, so he'd have to be compassionate enough... and care about me enough... to be okay with that."

"If he loved you," Daniel assured him soberly, "then the sex would just be icing on the cake. And as long as you get to have the cake, the icing just makes it sweeter. Plus, there's always Viagra."

A long moment of silence stretched between them. Daniel could feel Jack's need, the ache of loneliness radiating outward from him, filling up the cab of the Jeep. He started to reach out, touch Jack on the shoulder to offer him some kind of comfort, but then Jack started to speak.

"He's a kind, thoughtful man, someone who'd want to take care of me, as much as he'd want me looking after him," he said, his voice low, wistful, laced with sweet pain. "Animals and kids love him. Hell, everybody loves him, wants to be his friend, but he picked me, for reasons I'll never understand. He believes in me, Daniel. And he loves me so much that we're part of each other. Till death."

Daniel glanced at Jack, spooked by the anguish in his haunted voice. Jack's hands were fisted up on his thighs. His head was bowed and his eyes closed, and Daniel couldn't help feeling that Jack had just thrown his heart wide open.

"He's out there," Daniel promised, reaching over to lay his hand on Jack's forearm and give it a squeeze. "We'll find him for you."

Jack just shook his head slowly, deliberately, the lines of tension around his mouth deepening. His hands relaxed as he lifted his head, staring out the windshield at the night. A muscle twitched in his jaw. "Yeah, he's out there," Jack agreed, his voice edged with bitterness, "but I'm fuckin' invisible."

"Don't say that!" Daniel shot back. "You're not. You're a strong, attractive man with a great deal to offer. You've just shut yourself up inside this armor you don't let people penetrate. Give yourself a chance, Jack. He could've been in that bar tonight."

With a shake of his head and a bitter smile, Jack told him, "Yeah, he probably was. And he looked right through me." He looked Daniel in the eye. "Give it a rest, big guy. I'm not going huntin' for my soulmate, and he's not out lookin' for me. We'll just pass each other like ships in the night, never knowing how close we came to forever."

He turned back to the window, and Daniel let him brood in silence the rest of the way home.

Daniel wanted so badly to find the lover his friend needed, but until Jack was willing to entertain the possibility, he knew any efforts toward that end would be futile. For some reason, Jack had shut himself off from the hope of realizing the potential of his orientation, and until Daniel found out why, the knowledge he'd gained that night was useless. Jack had sentenced himself to celibacy because he couldn't trust another man enough to go to bed with him.

That was not an acceptable resolution, in Daniel Jackson's mind. He had a plan of action, but it was just a starting point. Jack needed a circle of gay friends, men he could be comfortable with, who weren't under his command, if the initiation Daniel had planned were to lead to anything fruitful. But since he wasn't going to go out and make any new friends, maybe the best way was for Daniel to bring some home to meet him.

Which meant that Daniel was going to have to get out more and widen his own circle of friends.

The idea had possibilities, but there was still Jack's unpredictable temper to consider.

He'd give it some thought before putting any additional plans into play.

At least he'd gotten Jack to dream a little, and that had to be a good thing. Daniel hoped it would turn into something more concrete, because he wanted to see Jack happy. If Jack were happy, Daniel knew he would be, too.

Two Weeks Later

"Come on, Jack," Daniel urged, smoothing down the lapels of his suit. "We're gonna be late." He took one final look in the mirror on the foyer wall, resettling his glasses on his nose.

"I hate weddings," Jack growled from behind him.

Daniel glanced at him and smiled. He cut a striking figure in his Class A's, and Daniel thought any man in his right mind would want to look that good at Jack's age. He hoped he looked as sharp when he was 54.

"It's a gay wedding," Daniel reminded him, jingling his keys in his trouser pocket. "First one with military approval, so it's breaking new ground, Jack. You should be proud one of the grooms is in your unit."

"I am." Jack looked down his nose at him, "and I'm sure you're just beside yourself with joy that the other groom is one of your guys."

"Actually, I am," Daniel admitted, opening the garage door and stepping out into the dark, cool room. "I like Eric and Bill both. They're nice people, and they're good together." He raised the garage door, then programmed the alarm system and got into the passenger seat of Jack's new truck.

Jack took the cap he'd tucked under his left arm and tossed it onto the dashboard as he got behind the wheel, then slipped his key into the ignition and started the vehicle up. "I still hate weddings," he told Daniel. "Barely made it through mine and Sara's."

That made Daniel smile. "Tell me about it."

"I was still wet behind the ears," he began, guiding the truck down the driveway, away from the house. "Both of us were just kids, really. Shit scared, thinking that whole 'rest of my life' stuff, you know?"

"No, but go ahead." Daniel hadn't even been aware that he was being married, when Sha're had been sent in to him. It was already a done deal, well after the fact, when he realized that he was a husband. There hadn't been any opportunity to get cold feet, only realization and acceptance of the fact that he was a married man.

"I was a brand new second lieutenant, just graduated from the Academy," Jack went on, turning the steering wheel back and forth in smooth circles, navigating the switchbacks down the hill with perfect ease. "My buddies at the time knew how close I was to backing out, so they thought they'd make the most of it. Sara and I were kneeling at the altar, getting the priest's blessing, and we heard this titter going on behind us. Little chuckles all over the place. Looked back, couldn't see anything, so we just ignored it the best we could. The laughs didn't go away, and I damn near got up and left. I got so sick, freaking out about whether my pants had split or something, after we were pronounced, I passed clean out at the altar."

Daniel stifled the chuckle the mental image brought with it and pretended to clear his throat, knowing that Jack was uncomfortable enough talking about his moment of weakness, and if Daniel laughed, he'd never hear the rest of the story. He couldn't help smiling, though. "Go on," he urged quietly, putting on as serious a face as he could manage.

"Wasn't till I saw the wedding pictures that we found out what everyone was laughing about. See, my buddies had shined my shoes for me just before the ceremony. I didn't think to check 'em. Who'd think to do that? So there I was, kneeling before God, our families and friends, and my buddies had taken strips of white tape and put 'H-E' on the bottom of my left shoe and 'L-P,' with an exclamation point, on the bottom of my right, so that when I went down on my knees, the audience would know just what I was thinking."

Closing his eyes and gritting his teeth didn't help. The laugh exploded from Daniel's nose first, then fell out of his open mouth. He laughed so hard he had to hug himself, tears running down his face. "Oh, I'm sorry, Jack, but that's one of those priceless Kodak moments," he panted when he managed to get control of himself. "God, I'd pay to see that photo!"

Jack was sitting very stiffly in his seat, the truck idling at the end of the driveway, looking straight ahead while the gate retracted. His head turned slowly, and he glared down his nose at Daniel. "If anyone else ever hears about this, you're dead, Jackson," he said frostily, "and if that picture should mysteriously turn up at the base..."

Daniel drew an 'X' on his chest with his index finger. "I swear, I won't tell anybody, but, my God, how funny!"

"Not from where I was kneeling." Jack turned onto Lion's Gate Road, driving in silence for a few moments while Daniel composed himself and caught his breath. "I knew I wasn't supposed to be there," he said quietly. "I knew it was wrong; that I was promising Sara something I couldn't give." He sighed. "You know, I finally came out to her before I left for training at Moore, because I didn't want her to see me on the news. And you know what? She said she already knew."

Sobering as he listened, Daniel looked at his friend and saw the grief and regret flickering in Jack's eyes. He was absolutely certain Jack still loved his ex-wife in some deep, meaningful fashion, and Daniel knew that Jack leaving her had been the right thing for both of them. If Jack could only find the right man, Daniel thought, maybe he wouldn't have such a difficult time with making the commitment the second time around. All he needed was to find the real love of his life.

They rode in silence the rest of the way to the church, each of them sitting on separate sides of the sanctuary with their respective groups. After only a few minutes, a guitarist seated at one side of the altar began to play, signaling the start of the ceremony.

Daniel watched the two men walk down the aisle, hand in hand. Captain Bill Pierce was dressed in his Air Force Class A's, while Doctor Eric Boone wore a dark blue pinstripe suit.

As he sat in the pew and listened to them recite carefully worded vows in their shaky voices, Daniel felt a sense of rightness fill him. These two men were lucky to have found each other, and their love shone brightly in their faces. A cheer went up from the congregation when they kissed, and Daniel found himself on his feet, clapping and celebrating with everyone else.

He couldn't stop grinning while he sat waiting for the crowd to disperse. The grooms had specifically requested having a photo made with Daniel and Jack, since they understood the future historical significance of their bosses, and once the rest of the audience was gone, he went up with Jack and posed with the grooms.

At the reception, shortly after stepping in the door, one of the older women from R&D snagged Daniel to gush about the wedding and talk his ear off for a few minutes. It took all the skills he'd learned from Jack to extricate himself from the situation, and what saved him was seeing another familiar face and being hailed by his old college friend, Doctor Nikolai Sikorsky.

Niko was a recent addition to the SGC's academic staff, recommended by Daniel personally. Despite his Russian name, Niko was a Mississippi native, an American-born son of Communist ballet dancers who had defected back in the '70's, and Daniel had learned to speak the Muscovite dialect during several digs he and Niko had been on together during their college years. They weren't close, not like Daniel was with Jack and Teal'c, but they were good friends nonetheless.

Daniel smiled as Nikolai came toward him, grateful when Barbara Shore finally slipped away to leave the old chums to chat.

"Nice wedding, wasn't it?" asked Daniel. He was aware of all the eyes following his companion.

Sikorsky was as tall as Jack; lithe, blond, with gorgeous lapis-colored eyes and Slavic features. He was the kind of man who turned heads everywhere he went – men's and women's. He could have just about anyone he wanted, and very probably did.

With a shrug, Niko replied, "I guess, if you're into that kinda thang. You'll never catch me at the altar, though. I don't care how hot the guy is; I prefer explorin' my options." He winked at Daniel and grinned.

"Still tempting the Fates, I see," Daniel returned easily. "Better be careful, Nikolai. They might hear you and send Cupid after you."

"Aw, hell, Dan'l. The cherub quit tryin' years ago. I fall into and outta love way too easy." He shrugged. "I only want what I can't have. Once I get it, the thrill is gone." Already his calculating eyes were scanning the room, looking for his next conquest.

As Daniel watched, he saw his friend's gaze stop wandering and hold on one spot. His humor faded, and he swallowed visibly. There was a brief glimpse of desire mixed with hopelessness before he schooled his features and pasted on a plastic smile to face Daniel again.

Only Daniel had seen the man who had caught his eye. Daniel told him quietly, "That's Jack O'Neill; my old CO, back in the early days of the program. He likes sports, particularly hockey, and loves opera. Has a degree in aeronautical engineering and a Master's in English, speaks Spanish, Italian, Arabic and Ancient, but he's a little rocky on that one. He's a very smart man but prefers to play the dumb soldier to throw people off, and he's loyal to a fault. Never been with another man and has sworn never to take the step, but he's a good guy, Nikolai. The best. He's closer than a brother to me, so if you're interested, you'd better make sure of your intentions before you go after him. He's not to play with. Capiche?"

Niko turned his hungry gaze across the room, back to the tall, silver-haired man, so impressive in his Air Force uniform. "I know who he is, Dan'l," he explained quietly. "Found out about him the first time I laid eyes him. Also found out he's unavailable, which is a damn shame." He shook his head sadly. "A damn shame. Fine man like that..." He sighed and shook his head.

"That's exactly what he is," Daniel agreed. "Maybe the finest man I've ever known. I think I mean that differently than what you do, though." Daniel frowned slightly at his friend. "Is Jack hot? I mean, for a guy? He thinks he's not, and I don't have the right frame of reference."

A startled chuckle slipped out of the other man as he continued to gaze at O'Neill. "Are you kidding? God, Dan'l! Look at him. Those eyes alone could set a man on fire. Tall, a great body, and his mouth just begs to be kissed. Bet he's beautiful when he smiles."

"I wouldn't know." Daniel peered at Jack, trying to see his friend through Nikolai's eyes.

"I'm a sucker for a great smile, you know." Nikolai turned to him and grinned. "Like yours."

Daniel nodded. "Yeah, well, we had this discussion decades ago, Niko. Nothing's changed for me. Still straight." He grinned a little. "Sorry."

"Y'are what y'are, moi koshek," Nikolai teased, grinning. "Does Jack smile around you a lot?"

"He likes to tease me, yes," answered Daniel quietly, "and I'm not 'your kitten' or anyone else's, thanks." He hesitated. "Are you interested, Nikolai? Really interested? Because he's a keeper. Doesn't like weddings, though, so you'd be safe there."

That blinding smile faded as Niko's gaze turned back to the man across the room. He just stood there, staring. Then without a word, he left Daniel's side and wended his way through the crowd to where Jack stood by the wall, surveying the room.

Daniel watched the expression on Jack's face change as he caught sight of the man coming toward him. His eyes widened, glowing with some kind of inner fire. He stood straighter and squared his shoulders, giving Nikolai a shy, boyish smile as he arrived to stand a little to one side, so he wouldn't block Jack's view of the room.

"Oh, my God," Daniel whispered, realizing that Sikorsky was exactly as Jack had described his dream guy on their ill-fated trip to the gay bar: obviously gorgeous, even to Daniel; just the right height and build, nothing obviously gay about him. He flirted with Jack, too. Smiled at him and posed to show off his body, without being too obvious about it. He touched Jack on the sleeve, joking with him and making him smile.

Daniel's hopes came up. Doctor Nikolai Sikorsky's personality fit Jack's requirements, too. Daniel watched in happy fascination as the two men talked to and grinned at each other, Jack's hungry gaze never leaving Niko's face.

Then the scientist must have made a mistake. He leaned in to whisper in Jack's ear, possibly something perfectly innocent, possibly an invitation to get out of there and go someplace more private. Jack dodged him instantly, his face shuttering closed. The interest went out of his eyes, and he literally backed away.

The disappointment in Nikolai's face was obvious, and the more he tried to apologize, the farther away Jack edged. Nikolai took a half step toward him, hand out to touch, and Jack bolted. He didn't run – no military man of that rank would, especially while in uniform – but he hurried out of the reception hall at a brisk, determined walk, never looking back.

Niko stayed where he was, defeated before he began. After a moment, he was talking to another attractive man, giving up on his conquest of Jack without really trying. Daniel frowned as he made his way to the nearest exit, looking for Jack. He found his friend trying to bum a cigarette off another officer who had gone outside for a smoke.

Daniel hurried up to them, took the unlit cigarette out of Jack's hand, ignoring the quiet little "hey!" of protest, and gave it back to the lieutenant. "Thanks, but he doesn't need that," Daniel told the young man.

He took Jack by the elbow and towed him back toward the reception hall. "Let's say our goodbyes to the grooms and get out of here, okay?"

"Yeah." Jack's reply was raspy, almost under his breath, his expression as turbulent as a storm cloud.

Five minutes later they were back in the truck, headed for home.

Jack looked positively grim, and that muscle in his jaw was working again.

Keeping his mouth shut, Daniel rode along in silence, trying to think how best to get started once they got back to the house. Nothing came to mind, and he wandered from the garage into the dining room in Jack's wake. He stopped to straighten a picture on the wall, still pondering, and realized after a moment that he didn't hear Jack moving around.

Instinct led him into the living room, where he found his friend keeping watch on the brilliant sunset over Cheyenne Mountain. That made a beautiful picture – the military man standing so straight and tall before the big windows, which were half filled with a multi-colored sky streaked with purples, pink and gold, glowing above dark, silhouetted earth. Daniel thought about that description, and realized it fit Jack as well. The scene through the glass was a perfect metaphor for the man standing before them. His colorful personality was all most people ever saw, distracting them from the shadowy, immovable foundation of his soul; a place where he kept his secrets deeply hidden, where few were given access.

"The rainbow warrior," he whispered to himself. That was what the press had dubbed the gay soldiers, and everyone knew about the legendary treasure that lay at the foot of the rainbow. Jack was solid gold; that was for sure.

Daniel strode across the polished floor, determination and certainty bringing him a sense of peace. "You spend a lot of time here," he observed, coming to stand by Jack's side.

"It's a nice view," said Jack distractedly. He finally tossed the cap he'd been holding onto the sofa and turned to look at his friend. His smile was fragile, his eyes clearly revealing the ache in his soul. "It was a nice wedding; not too girly. I think they'll be happy together."

Daniel nodded his agreement. He took a deep breath, his decision finally made, no more reservations or second guesses. "I saw you talking to Nikolai," he said gently. "He seemed interested in you."

Jack turned his gaze back to the windows, but not before Daniel had seen the walls come up behind his eyes. "He was."

"He was flirting his brains out. You turned him down?"

"I did."

"Why? He might've been exactly what you wanted. He fit the description you gave me."

Jack shook his head. He swallowed hard. "He wasn't what I wanted."

"How do you know? You didn't give him much of a chance. And don't tell me it's because his name is Russian. He was born and raised in Mississippi, a good ol' Southern boy."

"It wasn't that. I didn't just lightly decide to give him the brush off." He sighed. "Don't push me, Daniel. Please."

This was the moment, and Daniel knew it. He weighed his friendship with Jack, and the decision was easy. Jack owned considerable acreage in his soul. He would do anything for this man.

Anything.

And Jack needed him. He was trapped in a prison of his own making, and couldn't get out. Someone else would have to open the door for him, and lead him out of it.

"C'mere," said Daniel gently, opening his arms to Jack.

Without question, Jack hugged him back, just standing there before the big windows, holding him, his face pressed into Daniel's neck.

"You need to experience life as a gay man, Jack," he murmured against his friend's shoulder. "Otherwise, there's no point to recognizing the truth of your orientation. If trust is the issue, then maybe you need to be with someone you already trust, until you get your bearings. And I'm... I'm willing to do that for you. We can work it out here, at home, between us. I can show you what you're missing. Let me do that for you." Carefully, he eased out of Jack's embrace, making eye contact. "Okay?"

"What?" Jack pulled away from him and shook his head. "You gotta be kidding. That is SO not a good idea, Daniel," he said breathlessly. "I'm twenty years older than you. What the hell do you think you can teach me, especially about being a gay man, when you're straight as an arrow?" There was a tiny gleam of panic in Jack's eyes. "Besides, if you're talkin' about what I think you're talkin' about, it'd wreck our friendship. I don't wanna lose that."

"You won't," Daniel promised. "I've thought about this a lot, and I know I can do this with you. I also know you need it. As to the life experience, you may be older, but I'm no blushing schoolboy, and we can learn about what it is to be gay together. I've already done some of the research, so let's give it a try. Please?"

He stepped back, took off his suit jacket, and tossed it on the sofa. His tie followed, then his shirt. He maintained eye contact with Jack while he undressed, his heartbeat speeding up as his clothes and shoes came off, heedless of the fact that he was standing before the cathedral windows in nothing but his shorts.

For a moment, he waited for Jack to move. When he didn't, Daniel reached for the buttons on his Class A jacket.

Jack's hands caught Daniel's wrists. His breathing was shallow and fast, his eyes dilated with fear -- or maybe desire. "This is wrong," he growled, his voice thick with emotion. He let go and moved back a couple of steps. "I can't do this, Daniel. I can't. Just leave it." His hand slashed through the air to emphasize his order.

He stalked away, and after a few moments, Daniel heard the solid thwack of his bedroom door closing, not quite slammed, but shut with authority.

Gathering up his clothes, Daniel sighed and put his pants back on, slipped into his shirt and pulled it closed without buttoning it. He took the rest of his duds and draped them across his left arm, picked up Jack's cap and strolled toward the guest suite.

He'd blown it, frightened Jack away. Maybe Jack was right, and it wasn't such a good idea for them to have sex, but then, if Daniel didn't help him with that, he was certain Jack would be alone for the rest of his life. He'd just have to keep trying and maybe be subtler; get Jack used to touching him and seeing him half dressed. He'd work on that and see how it went. He wasn't giving up on Jack's future.

Arriving at Jack's bedroom door, Daniel glanced at the items in his arms and knocked on the door. There was no answer. "Jack, I've brought your cap," he called.

The door opened, and Jack stood there in the darkened room, his face mostly shadow. He had already doffed his jacket and held it in his hand.

"I'm sorry," Daniel said quickly, handing over the hat. "I didn't want to hurt you, you know. I was just trying to help."

Jack's head bobbed in a nod as he took his cap. "Yeah. I know." His voice was a pained whisper.

"The offer's still open," Daniel told him quietly, "but I won't push, okay?" He shrugged. "I just wanna see you with someone who makes you happy."

Jack sighed, his gaze directed at the floor. "I've already got friends for that." He quietly closed the door.

"I'm gonna make some dinner, if you wanna join me," Daniel called through the door. Maybe he just needed to let Jack cool down and think about it for a while. He went up to his room, put away his suit, and changed into a pair of drawstring pajama bottoms and a U-shirt, then padded down to the kitchen to see what was to be had for their evening meal.

He decided on sandwiches, and as he was starting to build them, he found himself with the squeeze bottle of mustard in his hand. He stared at it, and when his ears detected the slap of Jack's rubber-soled slippers entering the kitchen, he pointed the bottle at himself and gave it a good squeeze.

A stream of bright yellow shot out and landed in the middle of his shirt.

"Crap," he said quietly, knowing that Jack would hear him. He set the bottle down, peeled off his shirt, careful not to get any of the mustard on his glasses, and draped the garment over the sink before going back to preparing the first sandwich. Once he had that made, he moved over to the sink and began to scrub the condiment away under a stream of cold water.

He heard a barstool skid backward, and glanced around to see Jack take a seat. He had changed out of his Class A's and into the usual tee and sweats he wore to bed, with a shabby pair of bedroom slippers on his feet. He still smelled of the cologne he always put on for formal occasions, and Daniel took an appreciative sniff of the air.

"Oh, hey, I wasn't sure you were in the mood for food," he said brightly. He squeezed out the water and set the wet shirt in a bundle on the counter. "Just had a little accident with the mustard, there. It was clogged. Guess it's not anymore. Want a sandwich?"

"Sure. I'll make it." Jack started to get off the stool.

Daniel whirled around and held up a hand. "No, no, that's okay, you just sit there, and I'll make it. I know how you like yours, anyway, and we can talk."

"About?" Jack's eyebrows lifted. He looked a little bit suspicious, until his gaze dropped from Daniel's eyes to his chest. He swallowed visibly.

Score one for the straight man, Daniel told himself. "Whatever. The weather, work, TV. Just conversation, you know?" He went back and forth between the kitchen counter and the island bar where Jack sat, moving the sandwich makings over so he and Jack could face each other. That position would also allow Jack an eyeful of his naked chest. Daniel hoped it would inspire him.

So Daniel made a second sandwich, just the way Jack always made his own, while pretending not to notice Jack staring at his body. When he finished, he got Jack a beer and took the milk out of the fridge. Taking a swig from the carton, he swallowed it down to give Jack a nice, leisurely view of his back. There was just enough left in the carton for a glass to go with his dinner, and a little left over for cereal in the morning.

He decided to skip the glass, and turned around to move his plate and the carton to the island, taking a seat beside Jack.

Daniel bumped Jack's shoulder with his own on purpose as he mounted the stool. "Oh, sorry," he said as he settled.

"Stop it," Jack growled in warning.

"Huh? Stop what?"

"You're trying to seduce me," Jack stated calmly.

With a slight grin, Daniel turned his head to glance at his friend. "Is it working?"

"Yes. So stop it."

Turning on his stool, he ignored his sandwich and swiveled around to face the older man. "The thing with the mustard. Was that over the top?"

"A little. Got your shirt off, though. Well played, if a little obvious." Jack cleared his throat. "Nice view. You should know, though, you suck at subtlety, and you can't lie worth a shit. You should never play poker. Keep that in mind."

He picked up his sandwich and started eating. Daniel followed suit, chatting about all sorts of inane things while keeping an eye on Jack, who was keeping an eye on him. Or rather, on his chest and shoulders. It felt odd for Jack to be ogling him so openly, but there was something exciting about it, too, since that was exactly what he was trying to accomplish.

Daniel finished eating first and got up to cap the milk jug and put it back in the fridge. He put away the condiments he'd left on the bar, re-wrapped the sandwich meat and stowed it in the meat keeper, then twisted up the bread wrapper and tucked the loose end underneath the loaf while sliding it into the pantry. When he turned back to face Jack at the island, he wasn't on the other side of it anymore.

He was a couple of feet behind Daniel, having slipped off the stool and moved in stealthy silence to sneak up behind his younger friend.

For a moment, Daniel froze, looking into those unreadable dark eyes. Jack just stared at him, his gaze boring a hole right through Daniel's brain. Then his gaze dropped to Daniel's chest, and he could feel Jack wavering, wanting to go along with Daniel's crazy scheme, but still fighting the battle with himself.

"It's okay," Daniel promised, his voice soft in the otherwise silent room. "Touch me. I want you to." He took Jack's hands and guided one to his face, the other to his chest. He placed the palm over his pounding heart and held it there for a moment. "Does it feel good, touching me like this?" he asked, his voice a mere whisper. "Can you feel how fast my heart is beating?"

Jack's pupils zoomed, turning his dark eyes almost black with desire. His voice was a soft, almost breathless groan. "Daniel, I..."

"You need to know," Daniel assured him. "We'll start slowly, take it easy. Okay? Just this for right now. It's okay."

Daniel felt Jack's fingers stroke against his skin, smoothing slowly over pectorals, shoulder, bicep. It felt nice, being caressed. He'd missed that, and he found he wasn't repelled by it at all. This was Jack, after all. Jack had touched him for years, and Daniel had grown to love it; to need it.

Jack pulled him into an embrace, his hands exploring Daniel's back, shoulders, arms, and hair.

"I don't know," Jack sighed against his neck. "This is completely crazy. You're straight." He hesitated, then pulled away to look into Daniel's eyes. "Aren't you?"

"Yes, Jack, I am," he admitted quietly. "I'm not attracted to men in the least, but that's not what matters here. You're the best friend I've ever had, and you're worth a walk on the wild side. Besides, I don't have the hang-ups about my sexuality that a lot of men do. I'm not threatened by gay men." He stroked his hand up Jack's back and smiled. "Obviously."

With a sigh, Jack slipped out of his embrace and stepped away, head down in thought. "I know you're pretty stable in your orientation, Daniel, but this is stuff that's hard-wired in. Just how far are you planning to go with this wacky idea of yours?"

"As far as you need to," Daniel told him honestly, slipping his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants. "Even if it means going all the way."

Wide-open brown eyes stared back at him. Jack swallowed visibly. "You'd fuck me if I wanted it?"

Daniel nodded. "I would." He noted Jack made no mention of trying it the other way, which gave him a profound sense of relief, because he wasn't at all sure he could get very far with that. Maybe he could endure it once, but no more than that. As to the other scenario...

"What if you couldn't get it up?"

"I haven't had sex with another person in years, Jack. Believe me, I'd find a way," Daniel assured him. "Will you try it with me? Just see how it feels? Just see if being with me will help you feel more comfortable with who you are?"

"What if it doesn't make a difference? What if, when you decide you've done enough, I'm still not good with going out hunting for Mister Right?"

Daniel shrugged. "We talk about that when we get there. C'mon, Jack. Give it a try, at least. We'll go out a little. We'll cuddle so you can get used to having permission to touch another man, and when you're okay with that, we'll go to the next step."

Jack swallowed again, and this time, Daniel both saw and heard it. Finally, he nodded. "Okay," Jack murmured, "but I gotta tell you, I'm having a lot of doubts here. I'm afraid it'll come between us, wreck our friendship. I don't want that."

"No, it won't. I won't let it." Daniel shook his head, his heart burning with certainty and belief. "We'll do this together, and when you're ready to find love, we'll look back on this and laugh at how crazy we both were. Let me help you, Jack. Let me walk with you a little way on your journey, until you're ready to go on alone. You won't be leaving me behind, I promise. I'll still be there with you. I'll still be your friend. Always."

"You're not gay," Jack whispered, leaning closer. "I am. This isn't right."

"I don't believe in making black and white judgments like that. Everyone is made up of a whole lot of shades of gray. There's leeway in nearly everything. You've been with women, which is pretty much against your orientation. Now it's my turn to see things from a new point of view."

"This will change us. We'll never be the same afterward."

Daniel smiled. "I'm counting on that, actually."

"For both of us, or just for me?" Jack's eyes were sad, hopeless, defeated before they began.

"For both of us," repeated Daniel. "I'll know you a lot better, and vice versa. I think that'll be a good thing."

"We'll see," Jack said vaguely. "I won't stop you, if that's what you think is best, but I'm still thinking this is a bad idea." He sighed. "So how do you wanna do this?"

"We date. Go out to movies, dancing, whatever. You pick the places. When we're at home, we'll cuddle on the couch when we watch TV, instead of sitting in the recliners. We'll do all the things other couples do at home, until you let me know you're ready to take the next step."

"Which is?"

"Going to bed together."

"Fuck," Jack whispered, his insides whirling like they were in a blender.

Daniel grinned and nodded. "That's the general idea. When you're ready. We'll move as fast or as slow as you're comfortable with, okay?"

Jack nodded, then turned, head down again, and walked away, leaving Daniel to finish cleaning up the kitchen.

In short order he had everything tidy and padded upstairs to his bedroom. For a little while he paced the floor, thinking about the offer he'd made, imagining himself and Jack wrestling naked in the sheets of his bed. The images were pleasantly arousing, not revolting at all, and he smiled as he headed for the bathroom to stretch the limits of his imagination.

Maybe if he had a little practice before he and Jack did the deed, he might be able to teach himself to learn to be aroused by the sight of a man with a hard-on... as long as that man was Jack O'Neill.

Ten Days Later

Jack was just closing the lid on the washing machine when Daniel entered the mud room from the garage. Jack had heard him pull the Jeep into his parking space, coming home from a late day at the base. He turned the dial to start the laundry and looked up at his friend.

"Hey," said Daniel.

"Hey," Jack returned flatly. He looked away, putting the bottle of laundry detergent back into the cabinet. "Did you eat at the base? I can heat up leftovers, if you want."

"No, that's all right. I had dinner a couple of hours ago. Maybe a snack later." Daniel eased past him, and Jack followed him across the dining room, not watching him as Daniel stepped into the living room, heading for the stairs and his rooms on the upper floor.

Jack padded barefoot into the theater, resuming his seat in the recliner to watch the news. In a few minutes, Daniel joined him, walking past Jack's chair to the sofa in the next row, a glass of iced tea in his hand.

He cleared his throat and set his drink down. "You gonna join me back here, Jack?"

Obediently, Jack rose from his chair and retreated to the couch, taking his seat right beside Daniel. Night after night, they had done this. It had felt awkward at first, but Jack was starting to crave it. Daniel immediately put his arm around Jack's shoulders and pulled him close.

By the time the late-night movie started, he had his head on Daniel's chest, reclining between Daniel's legs, Jack's arms wrapped around him. Daniel's left arm was draped across his back, fingers moving in restless circles. It felt good.

Too good. So many times, Jack felt the urge to steal a kiss, to explore Daniel's body with his hands or his mouth. His heart would start beating faster as fantasies started to play through his head, and it would take all his strength to fight off his desires. He kept telling himself that he wasn't ready, but he knew better. Jack was ready with every fiber of his being, but he was shit scared of going through with Daniel's plan.

He peeled himself off Daniel and sat up. "Forgot the laundry," he murmured. "Gotta go put the stuff in the dryer."

Daniel's eyes glowed electric blue in the dim illumination from the TV. His voice was deep, husky, sexy as he said, "Hurry back." He sounded so dirty and hot, and his pose with legs spread wide in invitation did things to Jack, sent chills down his arms and legs, and made his dick twitch.

Years of practice made him quell that response instantly. "Uh," he said, though it was more of a grunt than anything. Unable to make his brain work, he ambled off to the mud room, transferred the wet clothes from the washer into the dryer, threw in a dryer sheet and started the cycle. He leaned against the dryer, feeling the vibration and heat against his ass, and let his imagination go for a moment, seeing Daniel in that same pose, without a stitch on, his dick hard and ready.

Heat shot straight to Jack's groin, and he swore. Maybe he could suck Daniel off. That would be a start, at least. Maybe that would be enough for Daniel; show him that Jack could do it.

Jack struggled to make his dick deflate and walked back to the theater room. Daniel half-reclined on the couch, only now his shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a tempting view of his bare chest. He looked up when Jack returned and smiled.

"Missed you," he said huskily. "What took so long?"

"Oh--" Jack's voice broke, sounding reedy and thin and panic-stricken. He cleared his throat. "We're out of dryer sheets."

So much for domestic bliss.

Daniel patted the cushion between his legs, inviting Jack to resume his place. He sat up a little as Jack turned around and prepared to sit down. He found himself wrapped in Daniel's arms, mouth dry, heart beating so hard it felt like his ribs might shatter.

He leaned back against Daniel, closing his eyes and trying to just maintain his hold on sanity.

Then Daniel's hands started to move, caressing his belly and chest. Fingertips settled over Jack's nipples, which had hardened into excited little nubs, and Jack gasped as Daniel's fingers tugged at them through his T-shirt.

"Jesus fuck, Daniel!" he groaned, writhing beneath Daniel's touch. "What the hell--"

"Like that?" asked Daniel, his voice a purr in Jack's ear. One hand slid slowly down his belly, all the way to his crotch. Daniel gripped him gently, stroking up and down Jack's traitorous dick, filling out the right leg of his jeans. He couldn't move and stayed where he was; confused, terrified, and fiercely aroused.

"Isn't this how your lover would touch you?" Daniel murmured against his nape. He nibbled the bare skin there, and Jack shuddered, involuntarily pushing himself back against Daniel, closer to him. A fantasy from moments ago flashed through Jack's consciousness at light speed, barely able to catch more than an instant of it.

Daniel taking him from behind, up against the washing machine while it rocked through the spin cycle.

Hands restlessly prowling his body kept Jack off-balance, unable to think. Daniel was caressing his crotch, feeling him up, exploring the length of the hard-on straining against his pants.

Jack sat still, his face hot enough to fry an egg, his breath ragged and uneven.

Daniel was touching his dick. He was making noises, sounds that meant pleasure. And there was that filthy little chuckle that just made Jack even harder and made gooseflesh rise on his neck and arms. Somewhere behind him, pressed against the small of his back, Jack felt Daniel's dick, hot and hard and ready. Jack held onto him, his hands over Daniel's, encouraging him.

"You like this, don't you." That wasn't a question, but a statement of the obvious. Daniel's teeth nibbled along the crest of Jack's shoulder. "Are you ready yet? We could do whatever you want. Just say the word."

It was getting more and more difficult to say no to Daniel, to push him away and ask him to stop. Since the night of the wedding, Daniel had been slowly conditioning him to being touched, and Jack found that he was starving for it. Refusing or backing away took all of Jack's strength of will, and each time he came closer to capitulation.

He wanted Daniel. He was in love with Daniel, but he could never let his friend know that. Jack had no defense against this man or his well-meaning "help." Oh, Jack would have been happy to just drop his pants, and let Daniel do whatever he wanted, but resisting was for Daniel's sake, not his own.

Jack really didn't want Daniel to follow through with his plan. He was terrified that, if they went to bed together, at some point he'd blurt out the truth, and Daniel would run away, stunned, and never speak to him again. Jack didn't want his pity or his hatred. What he wanted was Daniel's love, and at the moment, he had it, if only in his imagination.

All it would take was one little slip. Just one tiny confession, spoken in the heat of passion, and all would be lost. He shook his head, his body trembling with need. "No, Daniel. I can't. Not yet."

Those wonderful, questing hands moved away, and he heard Daniel sigh.

"Do you want this to stop?" There was an edge of resignation to Daniel's voice now.

Jack wilted a little with relief, sat up and turned enough to look Daniel in the eye. "I don't know what I want," he admitted honestly. "It's kind of obvious what it does to me when you touch me." He watched Daniel's gaze dip to his crotch and then scroll lazily back up to his eyes.

"But?" Daniel prodded gently. He looked bereft, hopeless.

Aiming his eyes at Daniel's knees, Jack saw in his peripheral vision that Daniel's interest had withered abruptly. That completely deflated Jack's erection, and he sighed. "But it's not real, Daniel. You don't really want me, and I don't think it'll work, no matter how good your intentions are. You're straight. It makes a difference."

"Come to bed with me," Daniel suggested softly, his fingertips exploring Jack's earlobe. "We'll get past that."

Shaking his head, Jack moved away. "I just can't," he admitted. "Give me time, okay?"

For a moment, Daniel stared at him, sadness in his eyes. "Whenever you're ready," he murmured, his hand resting on Jack's shoulder. "I'm not giving up, not until you tell me to stop. If you really don't want me to be close to you, just say the word. It isn't bothering me, though. I just wanted you to know that."

A tiny, crooked little smile tugged up one corner of his mouth, and there was wonder in his blue eyes. "Funny thing is, I've been enjoying this. Having someone to come home to, making small talk, all the touching. It's nice. Makes me feel like I'm... really coming home." He gazed at Jack's face an instant longer. "I'm gonna go to bed. G'night, Jack." He scooted off the couch and left for his room.

But not before Jack had seen the need in his eyes, and the helpless frustration. Jack wasn't sure what that meant. Maybe this was something that Daniel needed, too, if what he'd said was any indicator. Daniel needed someone, and for now, Jack was filling that space.

Since Daniel was so intent on matchmaking for him, maybe he ought to entertain the idea of following suit with Daniel.

If anyone deserved happiness and love, it was his younger friend. And if he had to lose the love of his life to someone else, at least he could make sure she was someone spectacular, someone who deserved Daniel. Only Jack couldn't think of a single woman that he knew who qualified for the privilege. He sighed and hung his head, leaning back against the sofa. It looked as if they were pretty well stuck with each other, which was a cosmic joke on both of them.

Maybe Daniel did find some sort of satisfaction in having him underfoot. Maybe it really was comforting for him to touch someone and be close. Maybe Daniel's hare-brained scheme really would help Jack get over his deeply embedded fears.

And just maybe, if Jack were very careful, he could have the man of his dreams for a little while, and pretend that the man he loved with every part of his being also felt the same way about him.

Next: Part 2