Black And White

by Sideburns

URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/ass/sideburns/blackamp.php
Summary: Jack decides that he and Daniel need to talk following Shades of Grey - and learns more than he bargained for... thank God
Info: This was beta'd by the gang over at alyjude's Cellar, specifically by Sheila, Jamy and Barb. Thanks guys!

This was not a moment he was looking forward to – not by any means. He certainly didn't think of himself as a coward, but now, sitting in his truck and staring up at Daniel's building, he gave brief thought to tucking his tail between his legs and running. Funny thing was, he didn't *need* to see Daniel. He could pretend for the rest of his life that everything was okay.

He really could. Because Daniel would – already was, in fact. 

//"The place was bugged. I had to keep up the act."

"It's... I understand."  

"Obviously, the whole friendship thing, the foundation, it's all solid."

"Uh, obviously. You don't—"

"You don't have to... No, I feel kind of... I do appreciate that you were the one that came to see if I was okay. That... that means something." 

"Uh, actually, no, it doesn't."

"Huh?"

"Um, we, uh, we drew straws. I lost."//

Yeah, Daniel was already going with the flow, everything was hunky-dory, life was good and all was forgiven, yadda yadda. Except... nope. Just... nope. 

Jack sucked it in, straightened his shoulders, painted over the yellow stripe down his back, and, grabbing the brown bag on the front seat next to him, got out of the truck.

He was well known by the doorman and allowed in immediately with a tip of the man's hat. A few minutes later, he was standing in front of Daniel's door.
Jack could still leave. No one would know. Well, except the doorman – who'd probably say something and then Daniel would know.  Damn, he was well and truly stuck now. He glanced down at the bag: a peace offering in the form of a good wine that he knew Daniel would appreciate. He'd probably need to take Daniel to dinner,  too. Do up the apology, buff it to a sparkling shine. He raised his hand – and knocked
 
***

The knock on his door had Daniel looking at his watch and grimacing. Damn, he'd just lost fifty bucks. He'd been positive Jack wouldn't show until *after* the dinner hour. He walked over to the phone and picked it up even as he said loudly, "Just a minute." He quickly dialed L'Escoffier and ordered dinner for two, 'and yes, he wanted it delivered within the hour, thank you very much'. Grinning, he hung up and, putting on his best "surprised" expression, answered the door.

"Why, Jack, what are you doing here?"

Looking ridiculously uncomfortable, Jack smiled and held up the bag. "Wine."

"Wine?"

"Yeah. I brought wine."

"That's... nice." God, he loved pulling Jack's chain. He figured he'd keep pulling at least until dinner arrived.

"So, do I get to come in, or are you going to keep me standing out here indefinitely?"
"I thought you were just delivering the wine," Daniel said with a perfectly straight face.

"Damn it, let me in."

Shrugging, Daniel stepped aside and, after Jack walked in, he closed the door and followed him into the living room. Jack paused long enough to set the bag down on the dining room table before taking up residence in his usual spot - the center of the couch.  Daniel took the chair opposite and, smiling brightly, asked, "So, what brings you to my neck of the woods?"

Jack looked lazily around the room as he said nonchalantly, "Oh, you know. Just... happened to be in the neighborhood."

"With wine."

"Oh, well, yeah. You know me, always prepared."

"Jack O'Neill, Boy Scout."

Jack gave Daniel a two-fingered salute – quickly followed by the more familiar one-fingered version.

"Yep, that's my scout."

Jack glanced pointedly over at the refrigerator, one eyebrow arched. "Plan on offering me any liquid refreshment?"

"You know where the fridge is."

Getting to his feet, Jack said, "Your hosting abilities have tanked, Daniel. Either that or you're taking our friendship for granted. You know that, right?"

Daniel's answer was an arched eyebrow that put Jack's to shame.

He hurried over to the fridge, opened it and prayed there'd be... ah, yes. Beer. His beer. Even after all this time, Daniel still kept his brand – just in case. He twisted off the cap and, after taking a healthy gulp, walked back to the couch and sat down.

"Happy now?" Daniel asked.

"Oh, yeah. Hit the spot."

"I'm so glad. Of course, I would have assumed that you had beer at home?"

"You wound me."

"I doubt that."

"No, really. Wounded man here." He gave Daniel his best grin. "You know you missed me."

"Like a case of the clap."

Jack managed to spew his beer across the entire distance between himself and Daniel, which had to be some kind of record.
Daniel, who was now wiping his face, said, "Thanks, Jack, really."

Wiping his mouth, Jack said, "A case of the *clap*? Is that what you said, Dr. 'I have so many letters after my name, I'm my own alphabet' Jackson?" 

"Your point?"

Jack raised his hand and started ticking off his fingers. "One: you used the word 'clap'. Two: who knew you even knew what it was *to* use it, and three: you used it."  

"Your point?" Daniel repeated.

"You missed me. You think I don't know you were in the control room when I walked through the 'gate? And you've never actually *had* the clap, have you?"

"I didn't miss you, your warped sense of humor, Oz jokes or farts – and of course I've never had the clap, asshole."

"Did too."

"Did too what? Miss you or have the clap?"

"Yep."

"Did not, have not. And before you argue, just remember, this is my home, you're a guest and I can kick you out like," he snapped his fingers, "that."

"But you won't, because you missed me. Not to mention that if I don't want to go...."

"Oh, really?"

Jack just sat there looking smug. Daniel bristled even as he snapped out, "Why are you here?"

"Oh. That. Yeah, well, I thought we should talk about what happened."

Daniel schooled his expression into one of puzzlement as he asked, "When?"

"Oh, please. Don't even pull that innocent shit with me. You know damn well what I'm talking about."

"Tell me you're not here because of the whole undercover thing - because if you are, there's no need. None whatsoever."

Jack's expression telegraphed exactly what he thought of Daniel's words, but he followed it up with a few words of his own. "You might have everyone else fooled, but not me. I know you inside and out - and you were hurt – *I* hurt you. There's no way you thought the plan was right, not to mention that I'm pretty sure you feel the situation was handled all wrong, so yeah, I think we need to talk about it."

"You don't know me worth squat, but that's for another," he made quote marks in the air, "discussion. I—"

He got no further as the doorbell rang. Smiling, he got to his feet and held out his hand. "AmEx."

Jack didn't even think about it, he simply shifted enough to reach his wallet, slipped the gold card out of its slot and handed it over. Daniel took it and headed for the door. When Daniel disappeared around the half-wall, Jack frowned. He heard the door open and then some kid's voice.

"Hey, Dr. Jackson. Here's your order."

"Great, Louie. Here's the card."

Curious now, Jack got up and moved close enough to be able to see around the divider. Daniel was taking several bags from a kid in a black and silver apron even as the kid took the offered credit card. While Daniel juggled the bags, the kid placed a credit card slip on the card and ran his pencil over it so the numbers stood out in relief. Daniel then signed Jack's name and took his copy while still balancing the food. "Thanks, Louie. Take it easy." 

"You too, Doc."

The kid left and, using his hip, Daniel shoved the door closed. Spotting Jack, he said, "A little help wouldn't be unappreciated."

"You expecting someone?" Jack asked as he took both his card and half the bags before following Daniel into the kitchen.

"Why would you ask that?" Daniel put the food down and took two plates from the cupboard and then pulled the appropriate silverware from the drawer on the left.

"Well, there appears to be enough here for an entire party – and of course, you just took down two plates. Should I leave?"

"Since when would I have you pay for a dinner I was going to enjoy with someone else?" Daniel asked as he started opening containers.

"So all this food is for you?" Jack asked, clearly puzzled.

"Sure, which is why I took down two plates and ordered your favorites."

Jack had never actually believed in the Twilight Zone, even after he'd started going through the 'Gate and seeing stuff that would have curled his hair had it been longer in length. Now, however, here in Daniel's home, he was pretty sure he was in the damned thing. Which shouldn't be a surprise since Daniel was involved. 

"Okay, let's run through the last forty minutes or so," he said reasonably. "I came over, rang the bell, you answered. We sat down; I got a beer. We talked about sexually transmitted diseases and how much you missed me while I was—"
 
"No, we talked about how much you *thought* I missed you while you were gone." 
"Semantics," Jack said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "The doorbell rang; you asked me for my credit card and answered the door, whereupon a good deal of food was handed over after you signed my name to—"    

"Hey, I always signed your name because you're too lazy to get up and get the food yourself."  

"Which is neither here nor there, because my point is that never once did you make a phone call to order this food." 

"Did I or did I not ask you to wait a moment when you first rang the bell?"

Scratching his head in puzzlement, Jack nodded. "Yeah, so?"

"That's when I called in the order." 

"Daniel, you didn't know it was me at the door."

"Don't be an ass. Of course I did. That's why I ordered. Unfortunately, I lost a bet with myself because I was pretty certain you'd come after dinner. Lost fifty bucks, which is why you paid." 

"So you're saying that you knew I'd show up tonight?"

"Didn't I just say that?"

"And you were expecting me - why?"

"Because while you only think you know me, I actually *do* know you, and thus knew that you'd think I was upset about what happened and how it happened because, not only was I left out,  but you knew I'd worked non-stop on the whole treaty  'give us technology' speech and lost hours of sleep and didn't eat for days only to watch you scrap the whole thing by stealing from the Tollan. Not to mention your resignation and leaving Earth to go back to Laira after flushing our friendship down the toilet. 

"Because you're feeling guilty about all of the above and the fact that days later you breezed through the 'gate with your charming, ingratiating smile and that silly cap, which you think makes you look jaunty and cute when in reality just makes you look like a dork, and told us the whole thing was one great big undercover operation and you had no choice because our allies *love* you more than us. That's why you're here. Which proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that you don't know me at all." 

During his entire speech  – a polite word for what Jack had just been listening to – Daniel had been dishing up the food and now carried the plates along with two placemats (with silverware rolled up inside) out to the table. As he set everything down, he said over his shoulder, "You want to grab the wine glasses and get the salad dressing of your choice from the fridge?"

Feeling as though he'd left the Twilight Zone for the Outer Limits, Jack nevertheless did as asked. He chose the bleu cheese dressing and, with the glasses in his other hand, joined Daniel. 

As Jack sat down, he got a good look at the food on his plate. In a rather stunned voice, he asked, "Is this filet mignon?"
Pouring the wine, Daniel said, "Your observational skills are as astute as ever, I see."

"Creamed spinach and those fried mushrooms I like so much?"

"You may be proof positive that 'gate travel actually increases a person's intelligence."

"I think I was just insulted, but this food looks so good, I refuse to be upset." 

Daniel simply smiled as he dug into his shrimp and crab-stuffed lobster tail. 
 
***

Jack was one happy man. Good food, great wine, and good companionship. Nothing better. He pushed his plate away and, realizing he'd finished first, walked into the kitchen and started the coffeemaker. He got the cups, then turned around and rested against the counter while the coffee drip-drip-dripped.

From where he stood, he could see Daniel – or at least Daniel's back – and here, in the kitchen, away from the man, he was forced to admit that he was puzzled. Daniel's demeanor, his words, the fucking dinner; all of it combined to leave him thoroughly confused.

Wait, maybe that was Daniel's intent. Sure. Don't they always say payback's a bitch? Jack grinned. He had to admire the man. This was fucking brilliant. Daniel was paying him back by gaslighting him.  

The prick.

Jack's grin widened. He'd taught him well.

Damn, he was proud.

The coffeemaker pinged and he quickly turned, poured, added the right amount of sugar to each cup, and was just about to carry them out when Daniel said, "That last bag on the counter should have our desserts

Jack did a turnaround, shifted so that both coffee mugs were now in his left hand, and grabbed the bag with his right. He then carried everything back out to the dining room. 

Daniel took his coffee and the bag, pulled two Styrofoam containers from it, opened one and, after peeking inside, kept it while pushing the other one toward Jack. "This one's yours."

Jack took it, popped it open and whistled. "Pecan pie. Nice." Lifting his fork, he said, "You know, I'm proud of you, Daniel."

Daniel looked up from his chocolate mousse and quirked an eyebrow.  

"I'm going to translate that particular eyebrow maneuver into meaning 'why am I proud of you', right?"

The other eyebrow arched.
"That's a yes. Okay, I'm proud because you've learned how to give good payback. In fact, you may have progressed beyond teacher and master, namely me."

"Wait, you think this dinner is some kind of revenge?"

"Of course, and brilliantly done. You buy all my favorite foods, my beer is in the fridge—"

"I always have your beer. I also have Sam's favorite soda and Teal'c's root beer," Daniel inserted smoothly. 

"Yes, well, anyway, it was still a stroke of genius, but then, look who I'm talking about."

"This isn't payback, Jack. There's nothing to pay you back *for*. And I reiterate that you don't know me worth squat, because if you did, you'd know that I understand completely how important it was that we not be brought in on it, how you didn't have a choice, and how much it hurt you to do it. To say the things you had to say to Sam, for instance? That had to pierce your heart to the core, but don't worry, she knows and understands."

"She's a soldier and, yeah, I'm sure she does understand. Teal'c's the same. Not that you all didn't get  your little lick in with that ridiculous 'drew straws' thing."

Daniel lowered his head to hide the grin as he said, "Ah, so you tumbled to that little white lie."

"I *am* a colonel in the United States Air Force, Daniel, and Carter is *no* actress. She was clearly surprised by what you said – not because you'd 'fessed up, but because it was the kind of surprise that comes from not having a clue as to what you were talking about."

"Yeah, well. Whatever. Anyway, so because I'm not a soldier, and in spite of my intelligence, I couldn't possibly understand the whys and wherefores behind what happened? Even though I've been a member of SG-1 for how long? Or that I not only carry a gun, but know how to use it and do so rather frequently? Sure, it's no secret that my mind and the military's don't always mesh, but that doesn't mean I don't understand what happened in this case, because I did - do. I may not be Sam or Teal'c, not of the infamous warrior mind and soul, but I'm not an idiot either. And by the way? I'm *not* an idiot and neither are Sam nor Teal'c, so if you think we bought your act for more than, maybe, five minutes, you're nuts."  

Jack was suddenly back in Mrs. Gilmore's high school geometry class. She'd always called on him because she'd always known too damn well that he wouldn't have the answer. So there he'd sit there with what *he'd* hoped was a smug expression on his face (Mr. "I'm the winning quarterback" O'Neill) but that was, in all reality, more akin to the look on a confused carp.

He was damned sure he had the same carp-like look on his face right now. He certainly felt just as stupid.

Funny, in all his years, only three people had ever successfully made him feel truly stupid - and no, Daniel had never been one of them. But following in Mrs. Gilmore's footsteps had been Robert Rothman and... yeah, Carter. 
He cleared his throat in a stalling attempt, and then said, "So I never had you fooled? Any of you?"

Daniel shook his head. "We figured something was up, even had an idea that it might involve the same people who stole the Touchstone from Madrona. So we did what we do best, namely backing you the only way we could."

"Shit."

Daniel pushed his unfinished dessert away, sat back, and wrapped his hands around the coffee mug. "You're here because you think I'm hurt and you want to talk about it, but I think how *you* felt might be far more important. It had to be hard watching our reactions and knowing that we believed you capable of those particular actions and words." 

Jack found himself speechless. Stunned. Shocked. Bowled over. Don't get a feather anywhere near him because that was all it would take to knock him over at the moment.

He decided not to dwell on his shock, not to deal with those feelings. He figured it was time to bring this back to the man opposite. "So," he finally said, "you weren't fooled, or hurt."

Daniel's gaze shifted sideways as he shook his head. "Nope. Not fooled, not hurt."

Jack narrowed his eyes, suspicion blossoming. "Not fooled," he repeated.

Daniel looked at him and smiled. "Please. One genius, one semi-genius, and one Jaffa."

Jack cocked his head. "One semi-genius?"

"Hey, Sam's the national treasure, right?"

"So, what, you're the semi-genius?"

"Well, I'm not the Jaffa."

"Ah. Good point. So *two* geniuses and one Jaffa. And you understood not being told."

Daniel's eyes stayed fixed on Jack as he nodded. "Neither you nor Hammond had a choice, and besides, it was the right way to go. Once you explained everything to our allies, it was the only way."

"And nothing I said in my house the day you visited... bothered you."

Daniel looked down at the coffee mug in his hand. "Nope."

Ah-ha. Gotcha, Jack thought. "Because you knew none of it was true." 

When Daniel continued to look into his coffee mug, Jack asked, "You did know that none of it was true, right? I mean, since the whole thing was a lie, including the idea of me leading an off-world site, then obviously the whole thing about there not being much of a foundation to our friendship was in the same crap league, right?"
"Absolutely," Daniel said, still finding his coffee more thrilling than Jack.

"So, we're really okay in the whole friendship department, right?"

"Obviously."

"So... why don't I believe you?"

That got Daniel's attention.

"What do you mean? You think I'm lying?"

"I think you're not telling me everything. I get that you figured things out and that you understand why I had to do what I did. I get that. But I'm still a bit rocky about how you felt regarding our little 'talk'. Something's going on inside that brain of yours, and we'd probably be better off if you'd share." He smiled gently. "If we're really going to put this behind us, you know?"

"Jack, there's nothing to 'put behind us'."

"Sorry, doesn't fly. Just spill it, Daniel. What's bothering you?"

"You really want to get into this? It's not exactly... not exactly the kind of conversation men are known to enjoy – let alone excel at."

"I can't deny that, but I think we can bungle our way through it, what with one of us being a linguist and all."

"Meaning I should be able to articulate something as distasteful as feelings?"

Jack grinned. "Yeah. That."

"Right. Sure. Okay... so." He scratched his chin, adjusted his glasses, and said, "I think... I think I might have taken the friendship discussion a bit more personally than was warranted. I mean, I knew the chances were pretty good that your place was bugged, and yet... I still wondered just how much of what you were expressing might be... real."  

"Okay, now you've confused me." Jack held up his hand to stop Daniel's next words. "I know, I know. You always confuse me and it's not hard to do. But still, I thought we'd agreed that what was said that day *wasn't* real?"

"But I'm thinking... maybe... to a certain degree, the stuff about us – our friendship - was. I think you wonder how on earth we ever  became friends and that whatever it is that we have isn't based on much and, so maybe... it's not really – you know – deep. Not like what you share with Teal'c or even Carter. I think I might annoy you far more often than I do anything right, if you know what I mean."

"So... what, I don't annoy you that often?" 

"No, actually, *you* don't. Sure, sometimes your actions do." Daniel gave him a small smile. "But that pretty much sums up any friendship. Hell, any relationship, for that matter."

Jack was actually surprised by Daniel's words; he'd just always figured he annoyed the hell out of the guy. On the other hand, he couldn't argue with the wisdom.

"I would guess," Daniel went on, "that Teal'c annoys you the least, and the only thing about Sam that bugs you is the techno-babble. Of course, the three of you have much more in common than one would suppose you and I have." 

Leaning forward, Jack rested his arms on the table, linked his fingers, and said somewhat defensively, "Carter annoyed the hell out of me in the beginning."

"Wasn't noticeable," Daniel said. "But hey. Whatever."

Something wasn't connecting here, Jack suddenly realized. Frowning, he asked, "Uh, Daniel? Why did you come over that day?"

Daniel gave him a wry grin. "I'm still not sure. Maybe because a small part of me worried that it *was* true so I needed to kind of... I don't know... confirm my belief?"

"So what was said that confirmed your suspicions?"

"The whole off-world site thing. That's why I brought it up. When you gave that lame explanation – I had my confirmation. Hell, anyone with half an idea of who you are would have known that you'd never campaign for command of such a site. Not in a million years. You'd have run in the opposite direction."

Jack was stunned. He knew his mouth was hanging open, but didn't seem able to close it.

"When I left you, I went straight to Sam's, figuring she'd appreciate knowing we were right, but she didn't think it proved anything. Sam could see you getting angry if such a project were turned down – if you were turned down."

"So you two, what, talked about me?"

"Well, ye-ah. Whole purpose, you know? But the ultimate conclusion was that we were still right to begin with, even if Sam figured your story was a convincing one."

"You know, it's funny – I told Hammond you guys would never believe any of it, that the cover story would never fly because no one would believe it, but I was overruled."

"It was good cover, don't get me wrong. To men like Maybourne, it's exactly what they'd believe; the only thing they'd believe. Men like that see everyone through their own wants and needs. Any other story would probably have tipped them off."

"And yet... it didn't fool you for a minute."

"No. Like I said, I know you."

"Teal'c?"

Daniel smiled. "His exact words when I told him were, 'That is a hockey puck.'"
Jack's brow furrowed as he tried to puzzle that one out. Seeing his confusion, Daniel said, "Bull puckey." 

Jack's face cleared. "Ah, of course. Good old Teal'c."

"Yeah," Daniel agreed. He got up and started clearing the table.

Jack, catching the clue, immediately jumped up to help and, in no time, the dining room table was spotless, dishes rinsed and in the dishwasher, the cartons and bags trashed. Daniel poured himself another cup of coffee and, as he started toward the living room, said, "There's whiskey in the pantry."

Jack, not one to turn down whiskey in his after-dinner coffee, got the bottle, added a good shot, and then joined Daniel. He reclaimed his spot on the couch and promptly put his legs up on the table, completely ignoring the dirty look Daniel threw him.

For several minutes, they were both silent, content to relax and allow their food to digest. Jack was hoping things stayed quiet. He'd come over intending to straighten things out between them, but toward the end, the conversation had started hiking for a part of the forest he really didn't want to see, let alone spend time in. Daniel had surprised the hell out of him, no two ways about it.
Of course, he still had the feeling Daniel wasn't being completely honest, but everything in Jack told him that if he wanted his life to remain uncomplicated – he'd better not probe any further. No, sir.

He settled deeper into the couch cushions and snuck a glance at his friend – and Daniel *was* his friend – his best friend.  Only one light was lit, the one on the table next to Daniel's chair, and its gentle glow surrounded Daniel. The effect left Jack thinking that Daniel looked like some kind of... no, no, he was not going to compare Daniel Jackson - infuriating, annoying, stubborn Daniel Jackson - to a freaking angel. Just... no. Besides, Daniel was pretty good with his fists now, and he'd knock Jack into next week.  

Funny though, because now Jack couldn't seem to take his eyes off his friend.

The minutes drifted by - and Jack continued to stare. Finally Daniel, realizing that he was being stared at, said rather brilliantly, "Jack, you're staring."

Jack, pretty brilliant in his own right, said, "At what?"

"Well, I think - at me."

"Oh, I don't think so. Why on earth would I stare at you?"

"I don't know, but you're still doing it."

"No, I'm not. We're talking, so of course I'm looking at you – it's the polite thing to do."

"You were looking before we started talking."

"I'm sure not." 

"Well, you were," Daniel said stubbornly.

"Daniel, I admit you're a good looking man, and spending time staring at you is hardly a... you know... hardship, but, really, I wasn't."

Thanks to Daniel's thunderstruck look, Jack knew he'd said something wrong. He did a quick replay in his mind but couldn't figure out what that something was.

"Do you know what you just said, Jack?" Daniel asked, his voice more of a squeak than anything else.

"Well, of course I do. I'm the one who said it. If I don't know what I said, who would?"

"Jack... you just implied... don't you realize what you just... I mean, it's not a hardship? Have you suddenly gone nuts?"

It didn't escape Jack's notice that Daniel's voice had risen as he spoke, culminating with its highest pitch on the word "nuts". He wasn't sure why Daniel was so upset. Jeez.

Suddenly Daniel was on his feet, his eyes dark with something Jack couldn't name. "I don't want to seem like a bad host, and feel free to stay as long as you like, but I haven't had any sleep in a few days, so I'm going to bed."

Flabbergasted, Jack watched Daniel head for his bedroom. He watched, openmouthed, as Daniel opened his bedroom door, walked in, turned, and shut it firmly behind him. 

Okay, Jack was now, officially, mad.

The conversation wasn't over by any stretch of the imagination and, to add insult to injury, the whole discussion had left him confused. And he didn't like that one bit.  And he *still* wasn't satisfied that he and Daniel were okay in the friendship department, which, to his way of thinking, meant that Dr. "High and Mighty" Jackson wasn't going to bed until things were settled. With that thought, and ignoring the fact that he just might be about to enter that forest he'd been avoiding, he got up and, with a purposeful stride, walked over to Daniel's door.

He knocked, turned the knob, walked in, and said, "Look, we're not...."

His voice trailed off.

Daniel had his back to the door and was just wiggling out of his jeans, slipping them below his hips. He was shirtless and had already removed his shoes as well.
Too late, Jack thought. He'd just entered the damn forest and was now – finally - seeing every single tree.

Which left him speechless, why? Was he seeing anything he hadn't seen a million times before? No. And yet, here, in the intimacy of Daniel's bedroom, with Daniel looking so damn – sexy – and so - whatever, none of the other instances seemed to matter. It was as if Jack were seeing Daniel for the first time. 

And liking it.

His earlier words about it being no hardship to look at Daniel rushed back and, like the proverbial light bulb, understanding flicked on. He now understood Daniel's reaction.
Well, shit.

"Jack, what the fuck are—"

"I... you... we...."

Jack's voice faded away as Daniel, his face now a ruddy color, let go of his jeans which immediately pooled around his ankles.

Too many trees to look at, Jack thought. Way too many gorgeous trees. He was too close, way too close. He found himself backing out of the room as he shook his head like a stunned bull in the middle of a bullring. 

Jacket, he needed his jacket. He had to get out of here and as fast as humanly possible.

He was moving quickly, but Daniel still managed to get his blue robe on and follow him out before Jack made his escape.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Jack? What's going on?"

Jack grabbed his jacket, slipped it on, snatched his keys from the pocket and said, "Nothing, nothing. Going home. You're going to bed, I'm going home to do the same."

"Ah. Fine."  

Jack was so close. His fucking hand was on the fucking door – and then Daniel had to say "Fine" in just that way – that "I give up" lost way.

One. Fucking. Word.

Jack closed his eyes for a moment – and then put his keys back in his pocket, took off the jacket, and walked back up into the living room.

Daniel was still standing in the doorway, hair ruffled, no glasses, robe partially open and sloppily belted.

"Damn," Jack whispered. "Damn, damn, damn."

"Jack, you need to get your head on straight," Daniel said quietly.

"Words to live by, Daniel, but now – unfortunately - very impossible." He stepped closer and said, "Can you really forgive me? Is that even something to hope for?"

"So you *are* the one who stole the candy out of my office."

"Skip the less-than-stellar attempt at humor and just answer me."

Daniel sighed and walked over to the dining room table. He sat down, clearly relieved to be off his feet.  "How many times do I have to say it? There's nothing to forgive."

"I let you think the worst about our friendship; I pushed buttons I knew you had. That was wrong on so many levels that it borders on the criminal. If I'd fought the plan, explained things better, Hammond would have caved – he always does. He'd have let me talk to our allies, convince them that you guys had to be included." 

"And then the whole mission would have failed. Either you would never have been approached, or you'd have ended up dead. So yeah, it was the right thing to do, Jack."

"Couldn't you just get mad like any normal person? Just this once?"

Daniel smiled at that, and it was a good sight. But it didn't let Jack off the hook.

"I think there might have been – might still be – something wrong with me." He joined Daniel and sat down. No coffee or alcohol was going to help so he didn't bother suggesting it. "Something that caused me to push those buttons of yours, to test you. Maybe." He absently rubbed at the back of his hand. "I think there's something going on between us. Something... deeper... than friendship? Something that maybe I've been a bit confused about. Maybe."

"How... interesting. You said 'between' us. As in, something I'm feeling as well?"

"Damn, I hope so."

"And if I were in agreement that there's this 'something' between us, would you know what to do about it?"

Jack stroked his chin as he tried to decipher Daniel's question. "You mean... would I know what to do with *you*?"

"Excuse me?"

"That didn't come out right, did it?"

"No. Not unless I need to be cooked, wrapped, cleaned or plucked."

"Right. I meant... were you asking if I'd know what to do 'something' wise."

Daniel leaned in close and said, "Sex. Just say it, Jack. S-e-x. Sex."

Jack leaned back and held up both hands. "Whoa, who said anything about sex? And see? I can say the word."

"Give the guy a Kewpie doll. Now try saying this: gay sex. Can you say that? Or how about homosexuality, can you say that? And what about saying that you might be having sexual thoughts about your male team member?"

"Do I have to?" Jack almost whined. "Can't we pretend all of that was said, along with a bunch of other goopy stuff, and maybe just... retire for the night?"

Daniel studied him for a moment, and then his lips started twitching upward. "Jack, there's no one like you in any galaxy - and that's just the way I like
it."

"That's a yes, then?"

Daniel got up, held out a hand, and said, "Come on, let's retire."
Face split into the kind of grin that would look completely appropriate on a ten-year-old, Jack jumped to his feet. "Have I ever told you how much I appreciate the way you see the shade of gray?"

"Can't say that you have, Jack."

"Well, I do."

They walked into the bedroom and Daniel said, "Considering all the gray up there," he pointed at Jack's head, "it should come as no surprise to you."

"Point taken."

While Daniel got himself settled in bed, Jack started to undress. Tossing his shirt onto the chest of drawers, he said with a grin, "It's so much easier with another guy, you know?"

Plumping up the pillows, Daniel said, "Don't get too excited, Jack. I expect flowers, wine and dinner at a fancy restaurant in six months." 

Frowning, Jack paused in the middle of taking off his jeans. "Excuse me? Six months?" He did some quick figuring. "That's not your birthday, Daniel."

Grinning like the Cheshire cat, Daniel said, "No, but it *will* be our six-month anniversary."

Jack tripped over his jeans and fell on his ass. He should have known. This was, after all, Daniel.

The End