Connotations

by Sheryl

URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/ass/sheryl/connotations.php
Summary: I was watching Rules of Engagement the other day and found myself unable to stop wondering about both Jack and Daniel's responses to Daniel being called four-eyes and well, this is what I came up with

Daniel tapped his pencil impatiently, he was certain the language was some derivative of Latin. He'd assumed the process of translating the symbols to text would be relatively simple, but nothing was fitting together quite as easily as he'd expected.

Well, some things were matching up, but then there were those other things that were making absolutely no sense at all, dammit. Okay, okay, he thought, closing his eyes and taking a few deep, calming breaths. It's possible that somewhere an error has been made. He resisted the pretentious impulse to attach the blame on the poor, medievalist inhabitants of P3X-617. It'll just take a little extra time to figure out, that's all, he told himself. No need to scrap it all and start over.yet.

"Well, well, well. Looky here. The great and powerful Doctor Jackson."

Great, just what he needed. He knew without looking who it was. This guy had been giving him a hard time for weeks. Apparently, he was not at all happy about sharing the same last name with Daniel and he'd made it quite clear that Daniel fell far short of meeting his high standards of a person bearing the surname Jackson. With a sigh, Daniel looked up hesitantly. "Is there something I can help you with, Sergeant Jackson?"

"Oh, no. I was just thinking maybe the two of us could hang out, you know? Get to know each other," the sergeant replied in a tone that Daniel was sure had just caused his blood sugar level to rise significantly.

Daniel somehow managed not to roll his eyes; instead he cleared his throat, shifted in his chair and offered a somewhat insincere smile in return. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah and being that we're pals, I was wondering...if it's not too much trouble, could I have your autograph?"

Daniel couldn't not roll his eyes, this time. "Uh...no. I-I don't think so."

"Aw, come on! Why not? Don't tell me that the brilliant scientist that opened the stargate is too good to sign an autograph for one of his admirers."

"Admirers, right," Daniel mumbled. "Well, pal as I'm sure you can see, I'm a little busy at the moment," he gestured to the books and notebook on the table, "But, maybe we can hang out some other time. Like the day after I sacrifice my body to the Goa'uld."

"I'm getting the feeling that you don't like me, Doctor Jackson," the other man asked, feigning distress.

Daniel tapped his pencil, loudly, on the notebook several times, took a deep breath, then looked up again. "This has been a truly fascinating conversation," he said, not even attempting to hide his irritability. "But, I really should get back to work now. Have a nice day, Sergeant Jackson."

"Oh, don't you worry. I will, punk," the sergeant growled taking a step away from the table.

With a sigh, Daniel returned to his translations, muttering a barely audible, "Cretin." His reprieve was to be short-lived, he realized, when the sound of the receding footsteps came to a halt. Mentally, he screamed in frustration, wishing he had a zat gun handy, so he could use it on himself.

"What'd you say, boy?"

Great, just great, he thought as he looked up innocently. "Who, me?"

"Yeah, you. I take it that's your pathetic attempt at an insult."

Daniel simply shrugged and turned once again back to the books in front of him, opting to test the 'ignore it and it will go away' theory. He really, really wanted to get back to his research and saw no possibility of doing so, until GI Jerk decided to buzz off.

"Cretin?" The sergeant laughed. "I suppose that would be the same as me callin' you a geek, or a pussy," he said raising his voice, apparently hoping to display his manly superiority to the other cafeteria patrons.

"Daniel?" Jack's wary voice was music to his ears. Daniel looked up, his lips quirking in a tiny smile as Jack set his tray across the table. Right then and there, he vowed to never, ever again complain about being subjected to Jack's incessant, untimely, annoying little 'visits'.

"Jack," he replied in a tone matching Jack's.

"Everything okay?"

"Oh, fine." For a long moment, he gazed at Jack over the top of his glasses, then, arching an eyebrow, he shot an appraising glance at the sergeant, who -- nope, hadn't vanished. He returned his attention to Jack and smiled slightly at the predatory gleam in Jack's eyes -- the one that always made Daniel's heart rate increase, in turn, pumping every ounce of blood in his body directly to his groin. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair as Jack stared at the sergeant, silently daring the man to open his mouth again.

To both of their surprise, Sergeant Jackson -- obviously no relation to the good doctor, who actually had a working brain, Jack mused -- reached out and slowly pushed the glasses up Daniel's nose. "How about four-eyes? Would you callin' me a cretin, be like me callin' you four-eyes?" he asked, attempting to convey innocent curiosity.

Daniel's expression instantly switched from bemused to disturbed. "F-four-eyes?" he repeated distractedly, as if he couldn't quite believe what he'd just heard. Then, he stood up, his head tilted sideways, brow furrowed. "Did you say four-eyes?"

Now, if Jack didn't know Daniel, he would have probably been thinking that Daniel looked like he was about to cry. It's those big, blue eyes of his, he thought; those babies can be so deceiving.

And Jack could tell by Sergeant Jackson's smug expression that he had already, presumptuously claimed victory for himself, foolishly assuming he had bested the nerdy Doctor Jackson.

Jack actually felt a pang of sympathy for the big idiot, knowing from experience that Daniel's tantrums were not a pretty sight -- well, actually, they were, as long as they weren't directed at him. An irate Daniel, stomping around and spouting twelve dollar words, that no one but he understood, ranked highly on Jack's top ten cutest things ever list. God help him if Daniel ever found that out.

There was no tantrum, however, no spouting of big words, instead what Jack witnessed was one quick, flurry of activity that ended abruptly with the larger man lying on the floor, dazed.

Jack felt equally stunned, and impressed. He winced, watching as the sergeant shook his head -- either in disbelief or to clear it, probably both -- then looked up at Daniel who was standing over him, arms folded across his chest, glaring unrepentantly down at him. Whoa, way to go, Daniel.

"Okay, okay!" Jack sprang forward the instant the shock wore off, took Daniel by the shoulders and backed him away. Then he turned to the small but increasing gathering of onlookers and waved them back. "Nothin' to look at here, people. Everything's fine. Isn't it, Sergeant?" Jack stated the words precisely, meaningfully.

"Yeah, everything's fine, Sir," replied Jackson, looking none-too-happy and more than a little embarrassed.

"See?" Jack said to the remaining busybodies. "Now, just go on about your business and give the man some room. Are you sure you're okay, Sergeant?" he asked with exaggerated concern and he offered the man a hand up.

"Yeah, I mean, yes, Sir. I'm okay. I just...fell, Sir." He got to his feet, then glared at Daniel.

"Aw, you look exhausted. Maybe you should go lie down, Sergeant." Jack slapped him on the shoulder, gave him a push toward the door.

"Yeah, uh, maybe I should, Sir," he said, casting one, last scowl at Daniel, before sulking out of the cafeteria.

Jack turned to Daniel, patted his cheek and grinned. "Danny boy, you never cease to amaze me." Then, he scooped up the books, put his arm across Daniel's shoulders and guided him out of the room.

In the corridor, he paused, turning Daniel to face him. "I can't believe you just did that!"

"He called me four-eyes," Daniel said, blinking up at Jack as if that explained everything. "Four-eyes."

Jack raised an eyebrow.

"You don't understand, Jack. You just don't understand how much I detest that epithet," Daniel said, his jaw clenched.

"Oh, I dunno, I think you've made it pretty clear," Jack said, patting him indulgently on the shoulder.

As he accompanied Daniel to his office, he stuck a mental post-it note alongside the hundred or so others he'd collected over the past few years. Right up, near the top of the list of things crucial to remember, under D for duck. Always duck when there's an inbound event horizon; always duck when you see a glowing-eyed Goa'uld waving at you; always duck when you hear a derogatory use of the term four-eyes while in the presence of Daniel Jackson.

__________

When they got to Daniel's office, Daniel sat down behind his desk, exhaled loudly and scrubbed his hands over his face. Four eyes, he hadn't been called that in years.

"Awww, is little Danny gonna cry?"

"You okay, Daniel?"

Daniel nodded, looked up at him and even attempted a smile, but it was obvious to Jack that the other man was lost in thought.

"What's a matter, can't you catch it?"

Daniel remembered watching, feeling completely helpless as the two taller boys tossed his book back and forth across a mud puddle. He remembered the book -- his irreplaceable book on Egyptian Mythology, he remembered wanting to cry, knowing in advance how the scene would end -- his book, his father's book, would be ruined, while he stood by, bewildered, unable to prevent the outcome, pleading with his eyes and hoping that just this once, one of them would have a little mercy and just give the book back to him.

"Please...don't..."

"Ooops." The red-haired boy said gleefully, grinning at Daniel as the book was tossed upward. Daniel lunged for it, but was pushed away by the other boy. The book opened, the pages fluttered in the air, papers flying out as it descended, seemingly in slow motion. The book plopped directly into the center of the puddle, splashing muddy water on Daniel's faded blue jeans and leaving Daniel feeling empty, numb.

"Look Four-eyes is crying!" Mark laughed, pointing at Daniel who could, in fact, feel tears running down his cheeks.

He remembered the tears being different that time though; they weren't the usual self-pitying type that came from hurt feelings. Daniel remembered grinding his teeth together, feeling the rage building, welling up inside of him, filling the emptiness with burning anger.

Clenching his fists, suddenly furious and unable to contain it, he surged forward, knocking Jeff to the ground with one blow, then he tackled Mark Simmons.

Daniel had pummeled that boy over and over, until his nose was bleeding and he was the one begging for mercy. Mr. Frank, the principal, had pulled him off and practically carried him, kicking and screaming, to the office, dragging Mark along by the arm. Both of them had ended up with a three-day suspension, but Daniel never saw either of the boys again. He'd been placed in another foster home, in another school, before his suspension was over.

It had all worked out well in the end, he remembered The new home and the new school turned out to be everything Daniel could have hoped for, giving him a much needed sense of normalcy in his life and for the next few years, he'd almost believed he was part of a family.

__________

"Daniel?"

Jack's voice startled him out of his reverie. He looked up to see Jack sitting on the edge of his desk, studying him with concern.

"I'm okay."

Jack nodded, still watching Daniel. "Look," he said, picking up a small, stone carved Mayan fetish -- just a reproduction, but still valuable -- and turning it over in his hands.

"I'm sorry," they both said simultaneously.

Daniel blinked at him, then frowned. "I just...I just really hate to be called that, you know?"

Jack nodded. Well, duh, everyone on the base probably knew that, now.

"What are you sorry about?" Daniel asked, puzzled.

"Oh, just, you know..." Jack said, waving the fetish in a vague gesture.

"No, I don't." Daniel waited a moment, curious to hear what Jack would say.

"Well, I just..." he blew out a breath, "the way that guy acted, I guess."

"Jack, you don't have to apologize for that Neanderthal, just because he's military."

"Well, I know that."

"Well...good."

"Sooo...anything else you want to talk about?" he offered lamely.

Daniel smiled and shook his head. "No, I don't think so, Jack."

"Okay," Jack fumbled with the tiny statue until Daniel cautiously snatched it away. "So, out of curiosity, what'd you do to piss him off?"

"Nothing," Daniel said, frowning. "Well, nothing except being a disgrace, in his opinion, to the good name Jackson. Although, it probably has more to do with his being intimidated by the fact that, unlike his, my IQ actually falls on the positive side of the numerical scale and he may be a little jealous that I can actually read." Grinning, Daniel lifted the textbook he'd been trying to study. "And then there's the whole ugly issue of my being able to communicate using multiple syllabic speech patterns...you know?"

"Uh-huh."

Daniel smiled, shooting Jack a condescending look. "Jack good."

"Ha ha. Very funny. You're just lucky I happen to have a thing for intellectual snob types."

"Yes, I am."

"Well, good." Jack picked up a smooth, shiny green stone, looked it over, then tossed it up and caught it. "At least we agree on some things."

Daniel narrowed his eyes and pointed at the stone. "Put that down."

__________

"So," Jack said, propping his head on one hand, while sliding the palm of his other hand across the smooth, flat abdomen that belonged to his favorite doctor of archeology, "just in the interest of safety, you know, for the SGC, are there any other names, besides four-eyes, that you find particularly offensive?"

Daniel opened his eyes and attempted to look contemplative. "Yeah," he finally answered. "I really hate to be called Danny."

"Well...what?" Jack pulled his hand away. "Danny?"

Immediately, Daniel reached out for the hand, grasping it and replacing it on his stomach -- actually, a little lower.

"It's sounds so childish, don't you think?" Daniel asked, maneuvering the hand even lower.

"Uhh...yeah." Jack frowned -- pouted, to be exact. "I guess so..."

Smiling, Daniel closed his eyes and moved the large, warm hand down further, to cover his erection. "Ahhh."

Jack shrugged, not removing his hand, but lifting it in a vague gesture. "Okay, well, I guess I'll try to stop, if you really want me to."

"Okay." Daniel quickly pressed the palm over the neglected flesh.

"Okay?"

"Okay." He was beginning to have trouble remembering what it was, exactly, that he was okaying, but he was an agreeable kind of guy and he'd agree to just about anything if Jack would keep touching him...there. "Yeah, that's good."

"Well...if you hate it so much, how come you didn't say anything before?"

"Huh?"

"Why didn't you tell me you didn't like to be called Danny?"

"Oh...um, well, usually when you call me Danny, we're sort of..." He spread his legs a little wider to allow Jack's hand better access.

"Preoccupied?" Jack moved his hand downward, cupping the firm testicles, tracing his fingertips over the flesh behind them.

"Exactly."

"Like a little while ago?"

"Jack!"

"Daniel?" Jack smirked, but Daniel couldn't see that with his eyes squeezed shut. Jack decided they could continue the conversation later and pushed himself to his knees, parting Daniel's sturdy legs so he could move between them. He ran his palms along the inside of Daniel's thighs, admiring the view as he settled in.

He still couldn't believe how much he loved doing this, loved touching and tasting Daniel. Loved the feeling of Daniel gently thrusting into his mouth, writhing beneath him, losing control. It amazed him that he took so much pleasure in the strangled sounds of passion that Daniel made as Jack pressed slippery fingers inside of him. That he could make Daniel shudder, cry out and convulse helplessly as he came.

Jack drank him down, unwilling to relinquish the softening organ until it was spent, relishing every drop of fluid -- and he found that was amazing too.

In fact, everything about this was amazing, he thought. The sex, the love, the tenderness -- the tenderness, he'd never expected that.

And Daniel, he smiled and began slowly kissing his way up Daniel's body. Daniel was just...amazing

__________

"I like to think of it as choosing my battles on a strategic level, based on importance, timing, intent, etcetera, etcetera. I'm sure you can relate to that."

"Right. Meaning that I might have a little difficulty in the reciprocation department if I'm sporting a broken jaw?"

"Exactly." Daniel smoothed his hand through the hair on Jack's chest, then nuzzled his neck, just behind his ear.

"Well," Jack said distractedly, rubbing slow circles on Daniel's shoulder and back. "I can't guarantee what I'll say when I'm...you know, in the heat of the moment."

"Mmmhmm."

"But, I'll try to remember."

"'kay."

Maybe he'd try and remember to stick with something simple, like, 'Oh God.' Daniel'd probably like that. Although he'd never admit it, Jack knew Daniel got a secret thrill whenever he was mistaken for a deity. Yep, Daniel had a power kink and it was no secret to Jack.

"Night Jack."

Oh yeah, he did love this too, the feeling of warm, naked satiated Daniel wrapped around his body, slightly damp from their earlier activities, the steady, moist puffs of his breath against Jack's skin -- knowing that he'd brought him to this pliant, pleasant state of exhaustion. Talk about your power trips. He planted a light kiss on Daniels brow.

"G'night Daniel."

End