Paul's hands clenched reflexively around the ends of his armrests as the small plane bounced and skittered its way through a bumpy landing. While it was always more pleasant to fly on one of the small jets placed at the disposal of the Joint Chiefs of Staff flying-and landing-in rough weather was not always an experience to be envied. He glanced out his window as the jet slowed, its wheels squealing on the wet pavement. Paul could see the storm front that had harried the last hour of the flight into Colorado Springs was still very much in full force here as rain pelted his window, bleak threads against a leaden sky.
Even before the plane came to a stand still, he unlatched his seatbelt and stood to gather up his affairs. He quickly slid the folders he'd been reviewing back into his briefcase, snatched up his laptop and his duffel and headed towards the exit, wishing all the while he'd had the foresight to pack an umbrella as well as masses of paperwork. He paused at the open hatch, sighed deeply then dashed as quickly as he dared down the steps and made his way to the waiting staff car.
An eager young man jumped out and met him halfway, his umbrella open and providing some protection from the rain. The airman sent to retrieve him held the umbrella over Paul's head, offering him a breathless "good morning, sir," even as the realization struck that he didn't have enough hands to hold the umbrella, offer the salute rank required and take Paul's bag as courtesy dictated. Paul would have found his expression of embarrassment quite amusing if he hadn't found himself in an awkward position or two in his days as a junior officer. He simply smiled and gave him a reassuring "at ease," and began to jog over to the nearby car, the airman loping beside him trying his best to keep them at least partially sheltered from the downpour.
He ducked quickly inside, suddenly and pleasantly cocooned in the warm, darkened, interior and gave a soft sigh of pleasure. Although DC was currently experiencing record temperatures, the weather here in Colorado was still on the unseasonably cool side, and the damp from the rain was sending a chill straight through to his bones, uncomfortably reminding him that arthritis seemed to run in his family. He cracked his knuckles, an ingrained reflex that was part nervous habit, part superstitious ward against the phantom stiffening joints he didn't even have.
The rumbling of the car's motor alerted him that they were about to get underway. He settled back into the embrace of the leather cushions and tugged a bit at his sodden trousers now plastered to his clammy skin. He hoped he'd have a bit of time to change clothes, or at least dry off a bit once he got to Cheyenne Mountain. He had a lot of plans for his stay in Colorado Springs and catching a spring cold was most certainly not among them.
The trip to the SGC passed without incident. Paul leaned back against the seat and let his eyes flutter closed. He relaxed, letting his mind drift for a bit, surrounded by the hush of car's interior, the insistent, rhythmic tapping of the rain in the windows and the faint rumble of the car's engine that reverberated gently against his back and his legs, lulling him, mind and body. It felt good to relax, even if only for a few minutes.
It wasn't that he anticipated any difficulties in particular during this visit to the SGC. This was, after all just the ordinary quarterly review. Paul had received all the standard reports submitted by the department heads, he'd reviewed the budget expenditures for the previous quarter and the requests for new personnel. He couldn't help but sigh at that last thought. While the SGC had grown by leaps and bounds over the three years he'd been associated with the program as the JCS liaison, all too many of those personnel requests were to replace good people who had been killed in action in skirmishes and accidents across the galaxy. His mind immediately flashed back to the most recent losses. Lieutenant Saunders of SG-8, whose legs had been crushed in a rockslide on PX4- 209 seven weeks ago. He would spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair. Dr. Lewis, on temporary assignment to SG-6, bitten by an especially poisonous snake on PX4-862. Despite Captain Duran's efforts to suck the poison out and the immediate use of the basic anti-toxin stored in the med-kit, his health had deteriorated rapidly and he was dead before they ever reached the gate.
Then there was SG-12, attacked in an ambush on PR5-651 as they returned to the gate following a standard recon mission less than a month ago. Two team members had been killed outright, one had died on the table and the surviving member, Sergeant Rosen would probably lose the use of her right eye permanently. That was the way of war, of course. He knew that, had fought in battle himself, but that still didn't make it any easier to accept. And, he supposed, that was the point. When you stopped caring, when you stopped being affected by the loss of good men and women, you stopped having a reason to fight.
He just wished it wasn't so hard all the time. And he desperately tried not to think of what it would do to him when...if, dammit, if...the day ever came that he opened a debrief folder and saw Daniel's death declaimed in pitiless black and white, just another anonymous statistic in the ongoing secret war with the Goa'uld.
The car bounced suddenly and the airman's soft apology drifted back to him. Paul shook his head. Now was not the time to let himself be distracted by such thoughts. He would spend the next two days meeting with Hammond and his senior staff, reviewing reports and budgetary concerns. Forty-eight hours from now, he'd be back on that jet, winging his way to DC to submit his report and his recommendations for the consideration of the JCS. Once he was home he could allow himself the luxury of such grim thoughts, but not now. Not when the possibility of a night with Daniel was there waiting for him. The meetings and the sweet promise of his lover's arms were all that mattered. The rest could wait.
~~~
By the time the car arrived at Cheyenne Mountain, Paul was mostly dry. Unfortunately, by the time he actually entered the facility, dashing from the car to entrance in the torrential downpour, he was soaking wet once more. He flashed his ID and followed the standard protocols before taking the elevator down to sub-level 19 where he was met by Lieutenant Dewhurst, Hammond's personal assistant. The dour looking man flashed him a brief, sympathetic smile before proposing the blissfully welcome suggestion of a quick change of clothing in one of the VIP rooms and the equally welcome promise that the laundry service would dry and press his sodden class Bs by the end of the day.
Dressed in dry clothes, his hair quickly toweled and combed into a semblance of order, Paul felt prepared to face a day of meetings. First up was General Hammond himself. Lieutenant Dewhurst accompanied him to the debriefing room, a solemn presence at his side throughout the entire trek. Hammond, as always, greeted him warmly, his southern charm and affable manner coming to the fore. Or maybe it was simply good tactics, meeting a potential adversary with a show of graciousness, the military version of "catching more flies with honey than with vinegar." Paul wasn't an adversary, of course. In fact, he always considered himself a staunch ally to the SGC and its personnel. He believed passionately in the SGC and its goals and fought ardently on its behalf. Hammond and his people had no idea of how many concessions Paul had wrung out of the JCS on their behalf over the years, using a mixture of practicality, political savvy, and the occasional hint of blackmail and the manipulation of endemic self- interest to get the SGC the things it needed most to carry out its mission. Unfortunately, he wasn't always successful and as with so many things, the failures tended to linger longer in the memory than the successes.
Paul had no delusions of how he was perceived by the majority of the personnel of the Stargate Program. Only Hammond, and of course Daniel, had any inkling of how hard he worked on their behalf, how many battles were waged behind closed doors in the corridors of power at the Pentagon. He was a man with two masters, constantly torn between responsibility and personal desire. He was first and foremost an officer of the USAF, trained in a tradition of honor and duty. As such, he was bound by responsibility to his superiors and held accountable to the powers that be at the Pentagon in a way few at the SGC could fully appreciate. But he was also a man who understood what the SGC was trying to achieve. Over the three years he had been associated with the program he had clocked a lot of hours within the walls of this facility, in times of crisis as well as times of relative peace. He had gotten to know a lot of the personnel, some of them fairly well, and in the case of one man, far better than was strictly proper. For Paul, they were not statistics and crisp manila folders marked with name, rank and serial number. They were real people and he cheered their triumphs and mourned their losses as if they were his own, because in truth they were.
But when he came to the SGC, he was also there as the representative of the JCS and the Pentagon. In the minds of the men and women of the SGC, he was the enemy; a pencil pusher, a desk jockey, the perennial bearer of bad tidings and budget cuts. It was part of his job, of course, and he accepted their subtle dismissal and silent castigation with all the dignity he could muster. All he could do was do his job and do it well and take comfort in the knowledge that he was doing everything in his power to make their tasks a little bit easier. He knew the truth and so did Daniel and that, in his mind, was reward enough.
He remained cloistered with Hammond for nearly two hours discussing the previous quarter's budget sheets, reviewing, extrapolating and hashing out an initial proposal for a projected annual budget for the coming fiscal year. Paul liked Hammond. He was a gruff, no nonsense kind of man, solid and practical but eminently fair. He was also a leader who cared deeply for his people--perhaps too much, if you believed to his detractors, which Paul resolutely did not-and allowed them a remarkable degree of latitude. While that sort of behavior didn't sit well with the hardliners and the more conservative old timers, it was essential for this command. What some of the more senior officers at the Pentagon didn't fully appreciate was how utterly alien this command truly was. It wasn't just the project's fundamental mission, to travel to other worlds and seek out allies and new technology to protect Earth from the threat of the Goa'uld that set it apart from other military operations, but its makeup as well. The SGC housed a large civilian population composed of specialists in a number of fields within both the hard and the social sciences whose expertise was vital to the ongoing survival of the SGC and its intrepid field teams. And even the military members of the command were pretty special, comprised of men and women who had proven themselves to be not merely bright and dedicated but also resilient and capable of creative, independent thought. After all, when you found yourself neck deep in trouble on some alien backwater millions of light years away, your ability to quote regs was of vastly less importance than your ability to think on your feet and keep yourself and your teammates alive and whole.
Hammond knew all this, of course. That was why he was so good at his job. Hammond understood the risks involved, the extraordinary stresses under which these people lived their lives. He also understood the importance of flexibility in command, recognized the value of relaxing the strictures by which they lived enough that they still bound, but didn't strangle. Paul truly hated to think what would happen to the SGC when Hammond did retire, as he eventually must. At least one good thing that came out of the whole sordid mess when the NID effectively blackmailed Hammond into retirement; the incident served as a pointed object lesson of what could happen if the wrong man-and the wrong agenda-was given free reign within the SGC. Bauer had been in command of the SGC a little over a week and in that time his actions had nearly caused Earth's destruction. It was a horrible way to prove a point, but even Hammond's detractors were forced to admit that Bauer's headlong rush to produce a weapon of mass destruction with no regard to safety protocols had been reckless in the extreme and that maybe-maybe-Hammond's command style was not so terribly wrong after all. Hammond's supporters had been able to turn the debacle to their advantage, winning the SGC some breathing room plus a few other long overdue and much needed boons of staff and equipment. If Hammond resented his career being used as bargaining chip, he never mentioned it, nor did Paul expect him too. Hammond was too good a politician and too conscientious a leader to waste any opportunity that helped his people.
Paul rolled his shoulders trying to work out an incipient cramp when the sharp rap of knuckles drew his and Hammond's attention to the door. At the general's acknowledgment, the door opened and Colonel O'Neill walked in. Paul stood and snapped the colonel a salute as protocol dictated, but O'Neill simply dismissed it with a wave, a drawling greeting of his own as he made his way over to the coffee pot and helped himself to a cup of the bitter brew before taking his own place at the table.
The tenor of the meeting immediately changed with O'Neill's arrival. The colonel was his usual self, engaging and aggravating in equal measure, his trademark sarcasm earning him a tolerant smile from his CO before Hammond firmly reminded him of the matter at hand. O'Neill indulged in a few more quips before finally settling down to grind over the personnel review.
Paul could never really make up his mind about O'Neill. He had read enough reports to have gained a healthy respect for the man and his not inconsiderable talents. He'd managed to pull himself and his team out of some pretty hairy situations since the Stargate program had gotten underway and there was certainly no denying the man's sense of duty, his commitment to the SGC, and his unswerving loyalty to his team. Not necessarily in that order. Those were all qualities that Paul admired and they certainly spoke highly of the man and his character, but at the same time there were some less savory and less endearing aspects of his personality. O'Neill was brash and sarcastic, given to displays of arrogance and intolerance. He also had an unfortunate habit of shooting his mouth off at the most inopportune times. While Paul often found O'Neill's candor refreshing and his observations astute, he also knew there were situations were the unvarnished truth delivered in such a brusque and uncompromising manner did far more harm than good.
Simply put, O'Neill was no politician and he certainly wasn't a diplomat. No doubt the man himself would be inordinately pleased with that assessment, since he showed no desire to be either. But it was also a pity. O'Neill would have been the logical successor to Hammond, particularly since O'Neill was rapidly approaching the age when his own retirement from the field was beginning to loom large, but the truth was O'Neill had made a lot of enemies and had racked up enough citations for insubordination that the rank of general would forever remain beyond his reach barring some extraordinary turn of events. While that might come as a relief to O'Neill who would hate flying a desk, it was a great loss for the SGC and one that left its future direction in doubt. And O'Neill's for that matter. Not every CO was as forbearing as Hammond, as the incident with Bauer had proven to all and sundry.
In the end Paul decided to simply take O'Neill as he came. Hammond obviously respected his abilities as senior team leader and invested an inordinate amount of authority and trust in the man, enough to overlook all but the most egregious examples of insubordination. But more importantly, Daniel thought very highly of O'Neill. Despite their occasionally bitter disputes and the recent period of estrangement, Daniel respected O'Neill immensely and trusted him implicitly. Since Daniel was an uncannily good judge of character, probably even better than O'Neill or himself, Paul had simply decided to accept that as the final word. But it was more than that. Paul needed to trust O'Neill. Out there in the big, wide galaxy, Daniel depended on O'Neill to keep him safe and bring him and the rest of the team home again. Paul needed to trust O'Neill to do that as well, because any other scenario was simply intolerable.
The three men settled down to work, pouring over spread sheets, reviewing specific demands for funds and equipment that had been made by the SGC and queried by the JCS, each one flagged by a bright color coded post-it, standing out gaily against the stark white pages and the dark burnished wood of the table. They worked through lunch, pausing only briefly to snag a sandwich and a bottle of water from the tray that Hammond had ordered sent up from the commissary before diving once more into the sea of crisp white paper, constantly mired by bureaucratic red tape that clung to them and impeded their progress like masses of seaweed.
Once the budgetary matters had been hashed out, they turned their attention to the matter of personnel. They poured over lists of possible recruits, compared notes over who and what they needed for the SGC, trying to prioritize their requests with the expectation that they would only get a fraction of what they wanted and needed. Regrettably that would be the case, Paul reflected. There was currently a governmental hiring freeze in place, after all. While the shifting of military personnel was a relatively simple matter, hiring civilian specialists required a little more effort and some deft sleight of hand. It was doable, of course, it was just a little more challenging.
"We need a new mineralogist," Hammond noted, as he tossed his half eaten sandwich back on the plate near his elbow.
Mineralogist.
Dr. Lewis had been a mineralogist, Paul suddenly remembered, some young up and comer that the SGC had managed to spirit away from Cal Tech. Paul's mind flashed back to their one brief meeting ten, no nine, months ago. Yes, that's right, it would have to have been nine months ago, during one of his quarterly reviews. Last July. He remembered now, Lewis had only just arrived and was bubbling over with excitement, as delighted to meet the JCS liaison as he was to chat up the other scientists. Paul had taken an instant liking to the man. Bright and garrulous, he brimmed with enthusiasm. He reminded Paul a little bit of Daniel in that regard, though Lewis was far more open than the more reticent and reserved Daniel would ever be with a total stranger. He remembered Lewis pumping his hand energetically, commenting that his maternal grandmother was a Davis and could they be related? Paul had simply smiled and shrugged, noting that it was a pretty common name and that there were quite a few Davises skulking about the halls of the SGC. Lewis smiled at that. Yes, he'd already met Sergeant Davis who worked in the control room. No he hadn't yet met Airman Davis who worked as a clerk in Supply and he hadn't met Nurse Davis either though she probably wouldn't count since that was her married name, and not her family name, but then again, who cared because they were all family here after all, right?
Nine months ago, Dr. Lewis had arrived at the SGC, thrilled at the prospect of traveling through the gate and discovering minerals that were heretofore unknown to mankind, at least on Earth, and now he was dead from the bite of an alien snake on an alien world. His death was a tragic loss, and so terribly random and completely unexpected. It could have been anyone, any member of SG-6. It could have been Airman Hawes, another recent recruit transferred to the SGC just five months ago, or Captain Duran, SG-6's team leader, or Lieutenant Casalez, his 2IC. It could have been any of them and on another day, another planet, it could have been O'Neill, or Major Carter, or Daniel. Luck of the draw. The ultimate crapshoot.
O'Neill was talking, drumming his fingers against the table top, arguing that they needed at least two dozen new personnel, and closer to three dozen if they received the approval to form two more SG teams. Paul listened to O'Neill and Hammond talking as if from far away. Paul looked down at the list of potential recruits in front of him. So many bright, earnest young men and women, so eager and dedicated, ready to give their lives in the defense of their country, or in this case, their planet. So willing to go and fight the good fight. Three dozen soldiers. It seemed like a small request really in the grand scheme of things. After all, how many soldiers were fighting in Afghanistan right now? But how many of those three dozen soldiers would be alive a year from now? Hell, how many of them would be alive the next time he stepped foot inside this facility? It was a sobering thought, one that he'd had many times before and which haunted him on restless nights.
Paul rubbed his forehead, trying to ward off the headache building behind his eyes, the faint throbbing a familiar presence, the inevitable product of too much work, too much pressure, too much responsibility. That was the problem in a nutshell, Paul thought. Some days the awareness came crashing down on him that it was simply too much. Too much death, too much loss, too much at stake. Too many good people lost, too many hopeless battles waged on alien worlds, too many power struggles waged by ruthless politicians driven more by self-interest than the common good. The only thing there wasn't too much of was time. There was never enough of that.
Paul mentally shook himself. What the hell was wrong with him today? Where were all these gloomy thoughts of death that kept bouncing around in his mind coming from? This wasn't anything new. He was an officer in the USAF. He'd served in the Balkans, done his stint in the Gulf War. He'd been in battle, fought and killed and watched others, both soldiers and civilians die. It had never been something he took lightly, nor should it ever be, but he'd never fixated on it. Thinking about all the worst-case scenarios, dwelling on all the unfortunate possible outcomes could be dangerous, could incapacitate you to the point where it would get you or your comrades killed. And even afterwards, such thoughts could tear you apart, eat away at your insides like acid and slowly drive you over the edge. Paul knew this, understood it perfectly from years of practice.
So why now? Why was he suddenly obsessing about this, especially when he was out of the line of fire? Well, maybe that was it. Maybe it was easier to accept the risks when you were taking them yourself, rather than foisting them off on someone else. No, not just someone else. Daniel. That was what this was all about, he knew with a sudden flash of insight. He was worried about Daniel. He always had, of course but today that worry just felt a little closer to the surface, jarring nerves already rubbed raw by long hours filled with too much work and exacerbated by too little sleep, too much caffeine and the dreary weather. Although they were twenty levels below ground, Paul could almost feel the faint chill in his bones, a phantom memory of cold and wet, of grim, leaden skies casting a pall over everything. For someone who was essentially pragmatic by nature, Paul seemed to be indulging in rather poetic flights of fancy of late. He smiled inwardly. It must be Daniel's thoroughly unwholesome influence.
Satisfied that he had resolved this issue, at least in the short term, Paul ruthlessly pushed his grim, pointless thoughts from his mind to focus on the job at hand. He didn't have the time or the patience for such amorphous fears right now and he refused to let them interfere further with his ability to do what needed to be done, or worse, to allow them to leech all the pleasure from an evening that would be spent in Daniel's company.
Paul cleared his throat. "What about Dr. Haughey? He comes highly recommended, and he has extensive field experience carrying out geological surveys in the southwest. According to his file..."
Yes, he could do this.
Interminable hours later, his meeting with Hammond and O'Neill finally broke. The latter two remained behind, no doubt to discuss some of the suggestions that had been bandied about privately. Paul, however, had places to go and people to see. Well, one person anyway. He gathered up his folders and slipped them neatly back into his briefcase, making sure he didn't leave any stray documents behind. He then stood and said his farewells to the two men, snapping them both a salute before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.
He made his way unerringly towards Daniel's office. He'd spent enough time in this facility to know the layout by heart so he moved on autopilot, focusing his attention instead on trying to clear his mind of stray thoughts of budgetary allotments and personnel assignments, reveling in the pleasure of anticipation. He could feel the faint buzz of adrenalin sparking along his nerves, singing in his blood. He and Daniel had been 'an item' for close to a year now, but even after all that time, each encounter felt brand new and he could feel the excitement and dizzying trepidation he associated with the first blush of romance bubbling up inside him. Perhaps it was because they spent so little time together, perhaps it was the distance that stretched between them that made their encounters so wonderfully passionate and intense. Perhaps it was because he was totally smitten, head over heels, crazy in love with Daniel that his heart pounded in his chest and his knees turned to water at the very thought of him. But none of that really mattered. He didn't need to know why he felt that way; it was simply enough to know that he did and to just enjoy the heady sensation to its fullest.
When Paul finally arrived at Daniel's office, he paused, hovering in the open door. He was loathe to interrupt the other man, content to merely watch him utterly absorbed in his work. Daniel was hunched over his desk, his forearms resting on the surface with an expression of deep concentration creasing his handsome features. Paul studied him, noting the furrow in his forehead and the way his lips moved silently as he tried to sound out the text he was translating. Paul had no doubt that Daniel was in the midst of trying to decipher some obscure and ancient dialect that had probably died out millennia before Daniel was even born. Daniel's glasses had begun to slide ever so slightly down his nose, falling prey to the lure of gravity. As they reached the tip of his nose, Daniel absently pushed them up once more, in a vain attempt to make them remain in place. Paul shook his head. Daniel really needed to get fitted for a new pair, Paul thought to himself, knowing that the idea probably hadn't occurred to Daniel, too deeply attached to habits of frugality instilled in him during his student days. And even if the idea did cross his mind, Daniel probably didn't have the time to spend on such frivolous things as getting new glasses.
Finally after drinking his fill of the familiar, soothing sight, Paul rapped lightly on the doorframe to gain Daniel's attention. The faint frown at being disturbed vanished immediately upon recognition and Daniel offered him instead his most dazzling smile, his eyes lighting with pleasure.
"Hey," Daniel said, his voice soft and inviting as Paul moved over to his desk.
"Hey yourself," he responded before dropping lightly into the chair facing Daniel's.
"How did the meetings go?"
Paul shrugged. "Alright, I think. The usual haggling over the budget, and kvetching over the number of recruits that will be allotted to the SGC. Same old, same old." He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck, trying to sooth a lingering ache. "Actually, and this is just between us, I don't foresee any problems. Hammond's requests are all perfectly reasonable and the Pentagon, by and large, has been pleased with the SGC's performance of late. And I'll do everything I can to make sure it happens."
Daniel smiled at him again, that sweet smile that made his eyes go soft. "I never doubted that for a second, Paul."
Paul felt a faint flush of delight, absurdly pleased at the earnest compliment from his lover, reflecting that Daniel's words of encouragement meant more to him than any citation from the Joint Chiefs ever had, touched by the sincerity that underlay them.
"Thanks," was all he said.
After several long moments spent gazing at one another like a pair of lovesick schoolboys, Paul finally decided he needed to get things moving. "I'm done here for the day. I've got more meetings scheduled for 0900 tomorrow, but I'm free until then. I was wondering, Dr. Jackson, if you might join me for dinner? That is, of course, if you're done here. To be honest, I'd certainly appreciate the company."
Although the words had been casual and there had been nothing untoward about the suggestion, the heated gaze Paul sent in his direction left no doubts as to his intentions.
"Well," Daniel drawled, holding Paul's gaze as he spoke, "I was kind of hoping to finish this translation tonight." He continued quickly to stave off any possible misunderstanding or disappointment. "But I'm not making much headway. I think a break would do me good. And to tell you the truth, I'm finding it hard to concentrate at the moment anyway."
"Well," Paul echoed, "in that case, why don't we get out of here and go grab a bite to eat?"
"Sounds like a plan to me," Daniel confirmed. "Let me go get changed. I'll be back in fifteen minutes."
With exaggerated care, Paul lifted his arm and gazed at his watch. "Fifteen minutes, gotcha. I'll be waiting." He let his voice take on a low throaty quality and was delighted to see the light frisson that passed through Daniel's body.
"Make that ten," Daniel said as he moved to the door with alacrity.
~~~
Daniel was as good as his word. Within ten minutes he was back in his office and then the two of them made their way to the elevators pausing just long enough to go through the normal exit procedures. The rain was still falling heavily as they moved to the exit. Paul sighed, less than sanguine about the prospect of getting soaked to the skin once more, but at least mollified by the prospect of getting out of his damp clothes and getting naked and horizontal with Daniel in the very near future.
As luck would have it, Daniel has gotten a parking place near the entrance for a change. They both huddled under Daniel's umbrella, making a mad dash to the car, pressed close together as Daniel unlocked the doors so they could scramble inside.
Neither of them said a word as Daniel drove, both of them knowing instinctively that they were too close, their emotions too near the surface. If they started anything now, they wouldn't be able to stop. So Paul contented himself with watching Daniel once again, indulging in what was by now a favorite pastime. He studied Daniel's profile, the clean line of his nose, the strong shape of his jaw, the curve of his slender neck. Even in the dim light of the car's interior, he could see how the rain beaded his skin and clung to the short strands of his hair. He could see the way it had formed damp patches on Daniel's shoulder and arms, inciting his wanton mind to imagine the way the cotton shirt beneath clung provocatively to the warm skin. Paul turned his head away quickly, his treacherous hormones joining forces with his errant thoughts to range into territory better left unexplored until he and Daniel could be alone, far from prying eyes.
They wound up at one of Daniel's favorite restaurants, a small Chinese place not far from his apartment. The restaurant was pretty much deserted; very few people apparently were willing to brave the elements, especially on a Tuesday night. Daniel ordered for them both, as familiar with Paul's preferred dishes as he was with his own. They sipped the green tea, appreciating the warmth it offered against the chill of the damp weather as they settled more comfortably against the banquette and awaited their meal.
Paul had been half tempted to just tell Daniel to drive straight to his apartment, but in the end he had refrained. Even though their time together was limited, Paul didn't want to spend it all having sex, as enticing as that prospect might be. The truth was, he just loved being with Daniel, in any context, and he genuinely enjoyed spending a quiet evening in his company doing normal things like talking, or going to a play, or eating Hunan Chicken in a cozy little Chinese restaurant on a rainy night. These were the kinds of things couples did and Paul craved them, hungered for the normalcy and the easy familiarity they embodied. More than that; he craved those things with Daniel. He wanted to be with Daniel, share his life with him, the highs and the lows. He wanted to experience firsthand all those understated moments of intimacy that life partners, at least the ones who weren't gay and in the military, simply took for granted. He didn't want evenings like this one to be a rare treat they indulged in every few months. He wanted this to be the norm, the standard and there were days when it nearly broke his heart to know that it couldn't be that way. He wondered sometimes if Daniel felt that way as well. He thought he did, but he'd never had the courage to ask the question outright, preferring to live with the nagging doubt that maybe Daniel was comfortable with, or even preferred the status quo, over receiving incontrovertible confirmation that he had regrettably been right all along.
Daniel scrubbed a hand through his wet hair, sending a few errant drops of moisture in his direction. They had abandoned the umbrella in the car, deciding they were better off making a quick dash to the door of the restaurant rather than huddling together under the umbrella. While the strategy had worked well, Paul had to admit that there were some definite advantages to the latter scenario. They'd made it to the haven of the restaurant's awning in a matter of seconds but it had still been enough to get them wet once more.
"Sorry about the lousy weather," Daniel apologized, offering him a rueful smile.
Paul returned the smile. "Don't worry about it, Dan. It's not your fault. Besides, believe it or not, this is better than the weather in DC right now."
Daniel raised a suspicious eyebrow at that assertion. "Really?"
"Yep, really. We're in the middle of a heat wave. It was ninety degrees yesterday and it was expected to be even hotter today and tomorrow, though it might cool off by the weekend, and I stress the might. And this is only mid-April."
"Yikes."
"Oh yeah. And that's nothing compared to the astronomical pollen count. They were saying it was somewhere around 2,400 yesterday."
Daniel's eyes widened into an expression of stunned horror. "2,400? Christ! I'd be in the hospital! I thought anything over 90 was high."
Paul took a sip of tea, his head nodding an affirmative. "It is. I don't have allergies and even I've been sneezing like crazy. And apparently the pharmacies can't even keep Claritin and Allegra on the shelves at the moment." Paul shook his head again. "You should have seen my car this morning. It looked like Jackson Pollock's ghost had gone to town with a can of yellow paint. You could hardly tell it was dark green under all the pollen spores covering it."
"OK, I think I'll take a pass on a visit to DC for the moment," Daniel declared as he leaned back and made way for the waiter to place the food on the table.
"Actually, right now is an excellent time to get the hell out of DC," Paul began, spooning a generous serving of Kung Pao Shrimp on his plate. "DC doesn't actually have a spring. We have tourist season which can be identified by its two phases."
"Do tell," Daniel encouraged before popping a piece of pork into his mouth.
He gestured with his chopsticks before tucking in. "Well, phase one is Cherry Blossom season. That lasts from mid, late March until mid April," he explained shifting into full pontification mode. "The arrival of Cherry Blossom Season can be identified by the sudden influx of tour buses that park along the Tidal Basin, frequently turning one lane of the roadway into a giant parking lot bringing rush hour traffic to its knees. It is accompanied by a massive rise if Metro rider ship, which forces commuters to abandon public transportation for the duration and return to their cars, thereby creating additional congestion. Once the season has begun in earnest, you can be assured of at least one sudden heat wave that will cause the Cherry Blossoms to bloom too early, followed by the obligatory cold snap which then kills them all off, thereby ensuring that all the trees are bare by the time the actual Cherry Blossom Festival arrives. The tourists are disappointed and the status quo is preserved for yet another year."
By his time Daniel was sniggering into his Moo Shi Pork. "Dare I ask about phase two?"
"Ah, phase two," Paul began sagely. "Phase two is rally/protest/demonstration/parade season. That one kicked off this week. We had a protest on the mall on Monday and a parade on Tuesday. That segues nicely into another three days of protests starting on Saturday. Unfortunately, this phase of tourist season stretches out for a long time and usually runs to at least Labor Day, if not longer. For the next several months, the residents of the District are pretty much held hostage by the masses of tourists."
"Yowch," Daniel said, wincing in sympathy. "That bad?"
"'Fraid so, though it could be worse. At least I don't need to go into the center of the city for work. Of course, living in Georgetown isn't exactly fun in tourist season," he explained. "We get a lot of tourist run off and lots of college students. And frankly, the parking is bad enough off-season, without all the new arrivals."
"Sounds like a barrel of monkeys," Daniel remarked, the irony apparent in his tone.
"Yep, just another week in the wacky, wacky world of our nation's capitol."
Daniel chuckled. "Well, if you ever get tired of the Air Force, I see a bright future for you at the DC Bureau of Tourism."
Paul snorted at that, almost shooting the tea he was drinking out his nose. "Christ, Dan. Give a guy some warning why don't ya?" he groused good-naturedly as he dabbed his face with his napkin.
Daniel was wearing his most innocent expression, the one that Paul had long ago learned signaled that he was feeling mischievous. Daniel might have managed to hoodwink most of the people at the SGC into thinking that he really was sweet and innocent, but Paul knew better. He'd been naked with Daniel and he knew from experience what that sweetly pouting mouth as capable of. He was a sneaky, ruthless little slut and Paul thanked the day they had crossed paths.
Paul suddenly had a stray memory flitter through his mind of his first encounter with the elusive and brilliant Dr. Daniel Jackson some three years earlier. The Dr. Jackson he met then had been all big, blue eyes and over long hair, dressed in BDUs at least one size too big that gave him the endearing appearance of a boy who had ransacked his older brother's closet. That Dr. Jackson had also been a walking contradiction, part ingenuous waif, part wry intellectual, all artlessness and oblique sensuality rolled into one very enticing package. Paul had been dazzled and bemused in equal measure, as he tried desperately to comprehend how someone so beautiful and perceptive could be that naive. It was only later that Paul came to realize that while Daniel was many things, naive wasn't one of them. It was a rampant misconception, one that Daniel himself made no effort to correct, and at times even exploited, in a calculated bid to keep people off balance. Not surprisingly, it worked like a charm every single time.
He shook his head in wry amusement.
"What?" Daniel asked, clearly puzzled, his innate curiosity coming to the fore.
Paul chuckled. "Nothing. I was just thinking back to when we first met and how you suckered me into thinking you were sweet and innocent."
Daniel sniffed haughtily at that observation. "I did no such thing," he responded rather primly. "It's not my fault you're gullible."
"Yeah, sure, you didn't. It's all a coincidence," Paul agreed affably. "You forget, Dan. I know you and I know what a devious little shit you can be when you set your mind to it."
"Why Major Davis," Daniel responded coyly, adopting a lazy southern drawl that would have made Janet Frasier proud, "you flatter me. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to seduce me."
Paul leaned in, keeping his voice low. "Is it working?"
Daniel leaned in as well. "Well, stranger things have been known to happen."
Paul couldn't help but think that that was a fairly accurate assessment of both their lives. Strange happenings were pretty much part and parcel when you were affiliated with the Stargate program.
He leaned back against the banquette, smiling rakishly at Daniel who still maintained his demure, coquettish smile. "That they have," he replied, pouring them both some more tea before saluting Daniel with his cup.
This felt good, this light hearted banter between the two of them. It was the kind of thing friends did, that lovers did, and he found himself relaxing into it, enjoying the pleasure of Daniel's genial company. The dark mood that had dogged his steps ever since he alighted from the plane unto the wet asphalt of the tarmac at Peterson in the middle of a rainstorm began to lift, evaporating in the warmth of Daniel's presence. It was foolish to dwell on 'what ifs' and worst case scenarios when he had this right here, right now. He loved Daniel and he knew in his heart that Daniel loved him as well and that was far more than most people ever got. It wasn't easy, what they had; it wasn't safe and it wasn't enough, not by a long shot, but it was all they had. And he knew that if given the choice, he'd chose the occasional stolen night with Daniel over a steady, uncomplicated relationship with someone else any day.
The rest of meal passed in a haze of contentment as the two men ate and joked and flirted with one another in the dim interior of the deserted restaurant. By the time the dishes were cleared and the fortune cookies were opened and mocked, they were both breathless with mirth, giddy and flushed with a gentle buzz of arousal. Anticipation had been slowly building all evening long from their earlier encounter in Daniel's office through the drive to the restaurant and over the course of the meal. The conversation had flowed and subtly altered, their words becoming a kind of foreplay, as the mood shifted from whimsical and clever one moment, to provocative and alluring the next. As they raced to Daniel's car, trying in vain to dodge the torrential downpour, Paul felt desire sparking along his nerves, his hunger sending a wave of heat coursing through his body.
They collapsed against the leather seats of Daniel's car, sopping wet and laughing like children. Although Paul knew it was reckless in the extreme, he couldn't stop his forward motion as he leaned over and cradled Daniel's face, taking his mouth in a searing, breathless kiss. The rational side of his mind told him this was insane, that they were in public, in a parked car, for Christ's sake, but the larger part, the desperate, needy part reminded him that it was pouring sheets outside that no one could see inside the darkened car and what's more there was no one there to see anything. In the end, Paul gave up the unequal struggle and settled in to the embrace, feeling Daniel's arms sliding around his back pulling him into a tighter clinch.
His heart was pounding in his ears and he moaned at the sensation of Daniel's clever tongue, tangling and swirling about his own, deepening the kiss in silent approval of Paul's initiative. It was good, so good, just as it always was and Paul wanted nothing more than to sink into Daniel, to feel the other man's body molding against his own. These were the sense memories that lingered on for days afterwards, Daniel's touch dancing faintly along his skin, tantalizing nerves and muscles, the feel of his lips, soft and pliant, the scent of his aftershave mingling with the tang of sweat and the musk of arousal. These potent memories would remain, resurfacing in his dreams, fueling his imagination, becoming the fodder of a thousand erotic flights of fancy during the long days and nights until they met again and could add new memories to the kitty.
Finally, reluctantly they parted, their breath shallow and rasping in their chests. Daniel's thumb traced his cheekbone, swiping aside drops of moisture that clung to his skin. He took the hand that was now resting on his cheek in his own and pressed a soft kiss to Daniel's palm before releasing it and settling back in his seat. Daniel gave him a soft smile in return, his face blurred by shadow.
"Ready?" Daniel asked, his voice low and husky.
"Home, James."
The ride up in the elevator was brief and silent, as the two of them stood a respectable distance apart, trying to maintain a semblance of control at least until they reached the sanctuary of Daniel's apartment. They made it, but only just. They had barely stepped across the threshold and closed the door, when they fell upon one another, at last succumbing to the hunger that had been building all night. Bodies pressed together, limbs tangled, as they kissed with the fervor of lovers long parted. Paul pushed forward, pressing Daniel up against the door, aligning their bodies in a full body embrace.
There was no finesse as both men gave themselves over to desire. They tugged and pulled at one another's damp clothing, their usually capable fingers made awkward by need, their efforts further hampered by the rain that saturated their clothing, making it cling to warm skin in a parody of love. They succeeded in removing one another's jackets, leaving them in a sodden pile on the floor next to them, and they managed to unbutton shirts, providing access at last to bare skin still wet and slightly chilled from the rain.
Paul allowed his hands free reign, letting them sweep along Daniel's sides, feeling the skin begin to warm beneath his touch, delighting in the tremors he was inducing in his lover's body as his finger tips skinned along pale skin. He could feel Daniel's hands mimicking his own motions, moving down his sides, sliding up beneath his wet shirt to trace his spine and splay against his shoulder blades. Paul broke the kiss, smiling slightly at Daniel's faint moan of disappointment, before he began to nibble on a delicate earlobe and then moved on to the sensitive spot just behind the jaw line. His actions were rewarded by a louder moan, this time one of approval, as he suckled damp skin and then blazed a trail of kisses down the length of Daniel's throat. Accommodating as always, Daniel arched his throat in response, allowing Paul better access. Paul whispered his thanks into the hollow of Daniel's neck before sliding his tongue along the tempting line of his collarbone.
He heard Daniel gasp his name, a soft, breathy sound full of need as potent as his own. He wanted Daniel, wanted him desperately and he would not be denied. And best of all, there was no reason to be. He moved down Daniel's chest planting warm, wet kisses along his way in a lazy, random pattern, flicking his tongue along the skin, chasing lingering raindrops, the liquid cool and clear on his tongue. He swirled his tongue briefly across Daniel's nipples, making the other man arch and gasp in response, before moving onwards in his inexorable journey southward. He paused once more at Daniel's navel, letting the tip of his tongue trace the rim before flickering inside in a succession of quick swipes.
Sliding to his knees before the other man, Paul arrived at his target at last. He gazed upwards, thrilling to the sight of his lover's flushed face. Daniel's eyes were closed and his mouth was parted, his shallow breath escaping past slack, kiss swollen lips. Paul felt a frisson of arousal race through his body at the sight of the other man's surrender to desire and to him. Paul's fingers quivered with anticipation as he struggled to unbuckle the belt and release the closures that kept his prize hidden from view. After a few fumbling attempts and mumbled curses, he succeeded in removing Daniel's trousers and boxers, exposing his cock to the cool air of the apartment. Daniel was already hard, the first drops of pre-come glistening on the tip of his dick.
Knowing that the time was past for teasing, he engulfed Daniel's weeping cock, swallowing him to the root. Daniel cried out at the sensation and his hands moved to Paul's head, his fingers threading his hair, cradling his skull. Paul worked quickly, sucking the other man off with long, deep strokes, Daniel's hands on his head urging him on. He bobbed up and down, wanting to bring Daniel off quickly, to give him the pleasure they both needed so badly. He placed his hands on Daniel's hips to hold both of them steady and he could feel the tremors racing through Daniel's body as well as the sudden stiffening that marked to onset of climax. And then Daniel was coming in his mouth and his cry of Paul's name was echoing in his ears. He drank the other man down, continuing to suck even after his erection had faded, wanting to prolong the sensation, knowing how sensitive Daniel's cock remained even after orgasm.
"Paul," he gasped, stunned breathless, pleading, "enough. Oh God, please, enough."
Paul released him, placing a tender, parting kiss on the head of the now quiescent cock before leaning over to kiss softly along Daniel's pelvis and belly, holding him with firm hands while the final tremors of pleasure faded from his body. He became aware of Daniel's hands caressing his head, petting and soothing him. He looked up again to see his lover's face, the expression dazed and sated and utterly contented and Paul smiled at the sight.
"C'mere you," Daniel growled at him softly and Paul rose at the summons, finding himself suddenly engulfed in a crushing hug, his mouth captured in a sharp, urgent kiss that gentled slightly as Paul explored his lover's mouth, tasting his own essence on Daniel's tongue. He was only vaguely aware that his hips were moving subtly, his own body seeking release. Daniel understood immediately. He reached down, making quick work of Paul's pants and boxers, sliding the fabric down his legs so that he could grasp his erection.
He gasped into Daniel's mouth and the other man swallowed his surprise, even as his nimble fingers deftly worked Paul's cock, stroking it in a strong, even rhythm, his hand warm and firm against his heated flesh. Daniel continued to kiss him and Paul felt lightheaded, swooning from the twin stimulation of lips and hand, only dimly aware of Daniel's other hand ghosting down his back to rest on his ass, cupping one buttock to press him closer. Paul couldn't last and he didn't try, giving himself over to his lover's skillful ministrations as arousal built and then crested, tearing through him like a tsunami. Now it was his turn to tremble in his lover's grasp, burying his face in Daniel's neck as soothing hands stroked his back and Daniel whispered soft words of love into his sweat dewed skin.
"Hey," Daniel said, his breath warm on Paul's neck. Paul raised his head at sound to gaze into blue eyes that were soft with love. He smiled.
"Hey," he echoed. "That was...incredible."
Daniel smiled at him, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Oh yeah, definitely." Paul shivered slightly and Daniel ran his hands along his arms, trying to rub some warmth into his damp skin.
"Shit, you're cold," Daniel observed, a hint of thoroughly unnecessary apology in his voice. "Let me get some towels, dry us off," he offered, He placed a light kiss on Paul's forehead before making his way to the linen closet. He gazed back over his shoulder at Paul and flashed him another fleeting smile. "Why don't you put on some music? I'll be back in a sec."
"Sure," Paul promised, his eyes watching Daniel's naked ass as it swayed gently on its way out of the room. Paul shook his head, amused and mildly embarrassed at his own filthy thoughts. He stepped out of his sodden uniform and padded over to the stereo, letting his fingertips glide across the plastic jewel cases encapsulating Daniel's CDs. He finally settled on Fauré. He popped the CD in the tray and stood there until the lyrical strains of "Pelléas et Mélisande" began to float through the apartment, a delicate counterpoint to the rain pounding against the glass doors to Daniel's balcony.
He turned just in time to see Daniel, wrapped in his terry cloth robe, a towel draped around his neck with his hair standing up in chaotic spikes moving towards him. Daniel dropped a quick kiss on his shoulder, handing Paul a towel and the robe he had bought expressly for him. He'd never thanked Daniel for that, somehow knowing that it would embarrass Daniel, but Paul was deeply touched by the gesture. It was a little thing, but it said so much about his place in Daniel's home and in his life and he took both the robe and the towel with a soft murmur of gratitude.
"Hey, you want a cognac?" Daniel asked.
Paul paused in scrubbing the towel over his wet hair momentarily. "That would be wonderful, thanks."
Daniel returned a minute later with two snifters of cognac, the amber liquid gleaming in the soft light thrown by the lamp in the corner. They clinked glasses with a quick "chin, chin," then sipped the liquor, letting it warm them from the inside. Daniel made his way to the sofa, stretching out across its length, beckoning for Paul to join him, as if such an invitation were necessary. He sprawled out as well, nestling between Daniel's legs, leaning back against Daniel's chest. Daniel wrapped his arms around him, one hand balancing the snifter lightly against Paul's torso. They lay there for a long time in silence, listening to mournful notes of the "Lento" and the driving rain outside, basking in the comfort of one another's company and the taste of the cognac trickling down their throats down to their belly. Paul let his hand drift back and forth along Daniel's arm in a slow, soothing rhythm, his fingertips rustling the fine, fair hairs of the forearm as they passed.
This felt so right, lying here cuddled up with Daniel on a rainy night. Just the two of them alone, together, no military regs standing in their way, no societal conventions frowning upon them, no endless miles stretching between them. No duty, no Stargate, no well intentioned, but ultimately meddlesome teammates to keep them apart. The melancholy that had plagued him earlier in the day began to creep up on him once more in spite of himself and his determination to not allow his grim thoughts to mar what little time he had with Daniel. Even Daniel's presence suddenly seemed unable to stave it off. In fact, in some ways that made it worse, knowing he could have Daniel for this brief point in time and that twenty-four hours from now he'd be winging his way to the other side of the country and his lonely, empty bed while Daniel would be here. That was the way it was. He knew that, he understood that, he accepted that. But God dammit, right now, at this very moment, he resented that truth with every fiber of his being.
"Paul?" he heard Daniel's voice in his ear, his breath tickling his skin. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he replied quickly, willing himself to believe that was the truth.
"Paul?" Daniel asked again, the puzzlement in his voice giving way to genuine concern. He put his snifter down on the coffee table doing the same with Paul's, before tugging on Paul's shoulder to make him turn around and look at him.
"C'mon Paul. I know something's bothering you." Daniel gazed at his throw narrowed lids. "Something's been bothering you all evening. So spill. What is it? Are you mad at me for some reason?"
"No!" Paul protested immediately, his tone sharper than he'd intended. "No," he repeated, reaching up to run his knuckles along Daniel's cheeks. "It's nothing you've done. It's me, alright?"
Daniel was looking at him, an expression of earnest pleading on his handsome face. Paul knew he was a sucker for Daniel. He'd do anything for the man under any conditions, but he knew he had no defenses against that look. He closed his eyes and drew a shuddering breath, trying to get his chaotic thoughts in order.
"Paul?"
"I'm sorry, Daniel. I've just been feeling, I don't know...depressed, I guess. I've been thinking too much about things that are better left alone. I worry about you," he explained, cupping Daniel's cheek in his hand, gratified when Daniel moved into the gesture and clasped his own hand on top of Paul's. "I worry about you being out there, going through the gate into all kinds of danger, knowing that I can't be there to protect you..."
Daniel opened his mouth and Paul shook his head.
"I know. I know you can take care of yourself, Dan. I know how capable you really are. It's just...it's a dangerous galaxy out there, and I wish I could be out there with you watching your back making sure nothing bad happens to you, ya know?"
"I know, Paul. I get that, really, I do. I know what it's like to be left behind when people you care about go into danger without you."
Daniel didn't elaborate, nor did he need to. Paul remembered all too clearly Daniel's worry when the other members of SG-1 had beamed up to Thor's ship to fight the Replicators while Daniel sat in the control room with a hole in his side where his appendix had been. He remembered, too, Daniel's raw anguish as he was forced to watch and O'Neill and Teal'c waged a losing battle against those same Replicators and then received the command from his CO, from his friend, to blow the sub and deliver the coup de grace. Yes, Daniel understood that pain, that fear all too well.
"I understand the risks, Paul. I know the dangers and I accept them willingly."
Paul sighed once more. "I know you do, babe. It's one of the things I admire about you. That courage, all that tenacity. It's part of who you are. And I know how much SG-1 means to you, how important the Gate is. I also understand how important you are to the SGC. As much as I want you to stay here where it's safe, you're too valuable out there. We need you out there."
Daniel flushed at the compliment, ducking his head and dropping a quick kiss into the palm resting on his cheek.
"But that doesn't keep me from worrying."
"Paul..."
He shook his head. "I know, I know. But that's just part of who I am, OK?"
"I know, and believe me, Paul, it means more than you can possibly imagine, knowing that you care, and that you worry about me. It's even better knowing I have someone to come home to."
Daniel must have seen his expression darken because this time he reached out and cupped Paul's cheek in his hand. "What is it?"
He tried to turn away, but Daniel held him fast. "C'mon, Paul. Please tell me. Don't keep me in the dark here."
Paul shook his head, silently cursing the day he fell in love with such a perceptive man. This would all be so much easier if Daniel wasn't so damned smart. But even as that thought flittered through his mind, he knew it wasn't true. He wouldn't want Daniel any other way. And maybe this was for the better, just getting all of this out into the open rather than leaving it to fester and drive him insane. Perhaps it was like removing a band-aid. The best method was to just pull it off real fast and get all the pain out of the way at once. He took a deep breath and dove in.
"There are days when I really hate living a lie. It's bad enough we live on opposite sides of the country and hardly get to see each other, bur even when we do get to be together, it's always in secret. I'm not ashamed of you, Dan, I'm not ashamed of us, but I love my job and I know how much you love yours and right now, there's simply no way around that."
It was Daniel's turn to sigh. "I know, Paul. I hate it too. But what choice do we have?"
"We don't have a choice and that's the problem. I thought I was OK with this, I thought it would be enough, e-mailing and phoning and then seeing you whenever I came to the SGC, or we could arrange to meet in DC or somewhere else. I thought I could make do with the little I could have of you, but it still feels like we're being cheated. And then we spend an evening together like this, just being together like a normal couple, going out to dinner, talking, flirting, lying cuddled up on the sofa, listening to music..."
"Having sex," Daniel added fastidiously.
"Having sex..." Paul agreed, a faint smile tracing his lips for an instant, "... I just feel more frustrated because I know how good we are together and I see what we could be to each other if we didn't have all this...this stuff standing in our way, and it just frustrates the hell out of me."
He finally risked looking Daniel in the eye. Daniel's eyes were wide and his expression was one of hurt bewilderment.
"Are you trying to break up with me, Paul?" Daniel asked, his even voice marred by a slight waver at the end.
"No! No, Daniel!" he explained rapidly, tripping over his tongue in desperation, trying to explain what he was feeling to Daniel without alienating him further. He kneeled up on the sofa, cradling Daniel's face in his hands. "God! I don't even want to think about my life without you. It's just...I want more. I now it's selfish and unreasonable, but dammit, I don't care! I want you Daniel, as much of you as I can have and then some."
Paul let his thumbs stroke Daniel's cheekbones. "Do you understand, Daniel?" 'Please, please understand,' Paul's mind whispered.
Daniel's eyes fluttered closed, remaining that way for long moments before he opened them again and looked intently back at Paul.
"I understand, Paul. I understand all too well. This isn't easy on me, either, you know. My entire life is a lie. I can't tell anyone what I do for a living. I can't share the things I've learned with the scholarly community. Every time I read an article in some archeological review and I see the author meekly accepting the conventional wisdom about the origins of Egyptian or Babylonian culture or whatever, I feel like screaming because I know they're wrong. I know they're wrong because I've got the proof of it right in my hands and I can't fucking share any of it!"
Daniel's voice was rising now, as his own anger started coming to the fore. "And then there's my personal life. I can't tell anyone about the fact that I'm bi because of the potential fallout and because if anyone suspected I was taking it up the ass, they might start snooping around and that could lead them back to you and I cannot, will not, put you at risk like that. So I keep my mouth shut and I keep up the façade of the happy, heterosexual, celibate archeologist in front of all my friends and co-workers when its killing me inside that I can't tell the people I care most about that I'm head-over- heels, crossed eyed in love with you."
Paul felt all the air escape his lungs in a whoosh, stunned and a little overwhelmed at Daniel's passionate confession. But still Daniel wasn't finished.
"You're my sanctuary, Paul. You're an island of sanity and truth in the sea of chaos that's my life right now. You're the only one who knows who I am, all of me, uncensored, no secrets, no reservations. I love you and I need you, dammit. And you're right; it's not enough, it'll never be enough, but we have to make do with what we have because the alternative is simply unbearable."
Paul reached out and pulled Daniel to him, crushing him in a tight embrace. "Oh, baby. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He could feel tears prickling hot and sharp at the back of his eyes, but he refused to let them fall as he whispered apologies into Daniel's hair. He heard a sniffle and pulled away just enough to look at Daniel who appeared to be have waged his own mostly successful battle with his errant tear ducts. He leaned in, resting his forehead against Daniel's, letting one hand stroke along the nape of his lover's neck.
When they pulled apart again, Daniel gave him a wry smile. "Well, that was certainly cathartic, though I admit I hadn't really planned on heartfelt confessions as part of the evening's entertainment. Any idea what brought this on?"
Paul shook his head with a rueful chuckle. "Hell if I know, Dan. Blame it on the weather, or maybe the killer pollen count in DC," he quipped, before pausing and shaking his head and becoming serious. "Or maybe it's just seeing more good men and women fighting and dying, often for no good reason. It's an unpleasant reminder of my own mortality, and of yours and what we both stand to lose."
Daniel leaned in close to Paul once again. "Carpe diem, Paul," he murmured against Paul's lips before capturing them in a lingering kiss.
"Carpe diem," he agreed, returning Daniel's kiss with interest. Finally Daniel rose from the sofa, standing beside it and extending his hand towards the other man.
"Come to bed, Paul." It was a simple invitation, unadorned and undeniable. Paul took the proffered hand and rose himself, following Daniel towards his bedroom without a further word.
~~~
Daniel led him into the darkened room, pausing only to turn on the small bedside lamp, casting a soft light across the bed and the two men standing next to it. The fervent hunger from before had burned through them, leaving in its wake a sweet, aching need, a sweeping tenderness that cried out for shared touch and gentle communion. Daniel reached out and slowly removed Paul's robe, the motion of his hands light and assured. He pushed the heavy fabric from his lover's shoulders, letting his hands grasp and glide along hard muscle and warm skin, the calluses of his work worn hands rasping slightly along the surface. Daniel's face was soft , his eyes filled with wonder and tenderness, as he gazed at Paul's body, feeling the solid reality of flesh beneath his hands.
Paul shivered from the touch ghosting along his skin and the intensity of the love he saw reflected in Daniel's eyes. He reached out himself, echoing Daniel's gestures, removing his lover's robe to reveal his body to Paul's covetous eyes and touch. They stood like that for a long time, gazing at one another, hands exploring one another's body in languorous motions. There was no need to rush, both of them wanting, needing to make this experience last, to have this memory to cling to over the days and weeks they are apart.
Finally Daniel leaned in and kissed him, a simple brushing of dry lips before he pulled away and repeated the gesture. They kissed again and again, each touch deeper and hungrier than the last, each one lingering a little longer than the one before it. Daniel's tongue traced Paul's lips, teasing them, asking permission to enter, which Paul gave without hesitation. He felt Daniel's arms snake around his back pulling him closer and Paul echoed that gesture as well, sliding his arms upwards along the smooth, well muscled back. They moved together, mouths locked, hips rocking subtly as their cocks swelled and lifted.
Daniel began to walk them slowly backwards until Paul felt his knees bump into the mattress behind him. He let Daniel's weight carry him down to the bed, shifting to allow Daniel's body to rest completely on top of his own. He spread his legs to let Daniel settle between them, wrapping one of his legs around Daniel's lower body, drawing him in closer. They moved together in a slow, lazy rhythm, hands trailing down one another's body, tongues dancing in one another's mouths. Paul slid one hand to cradle Daniel's head, his fingers sliding into the soft, thick hair at the back of his skull as he deepened the kiss.
Releasing his mouth, Daniel began to explore with lips and tongue, planting featherlike kisses on his face, his eyelids, his jaw, his chin, then further down, along his throat and across his chest. Daniel's clever tongue lathed his nipples, swirling and flickering across the pebbled flesh until they were erect before kissing his way down to his belly then back up again to his throat, his jaw, his mouth. Daniel kissed him again, long and deep before pulling back to nibble playfully at his lower lip.
Throughout Daniel's entire foray, Paul had kept his eyes closed, giving himself over fully to the sensations Daniel's ministrations were awakening in his willing body. He felt Daniel lift up, raising his body and Paul ached with the loss of contact, but Daniel was back immediately, his mischievous tongue tracing the curve of his ear.
"What do you want, Paul?" Daniel asked, his breath chilling the wetness left behind by the trailing tongue, making Paul shiver. He opened lust dazed eyes and saw that Daniel was holding a tube of lube in his hands, dangling it between them.
"What do you want, Paul?" he repeated, letting Paul call the shots. That was his Daniel, generous and considerate to a fault. Paul reached up and closed Daniel's hand around the lube, holding the fist gently in his own.
"I want you to fuck me, Dan."
Daniel nodded in understanding then kissed him again sharply before once again blazing a trail down Paul's body, moving with all the inexorable precision of a heat seeking missile towards Paul's erection. Daniel settled between Paul's open legs and leaned in, trailing his tongue along the length of his shaft, making Paul shudder in response. Daniel liked to play, he knew. He liked to tease and draw Paul to the edge of climax again and again before finally blowing the roof off his head and Paul was more than willing to let Daniel do whatever he wanted. Tonight was no exception. Daniel played him like a Stradivarius, using lips and tongue and teeth and the warm, hot cavern of his mouth to drive him insane with lust and transform the normally self-possessed man into a shuddering, babbling puddle of goo.
So lost in sensation was he, Paul nearly jumped in surprise when he felt an inquisitive finger breaching his anus. He relaxed instantly, allowing Daniel access, feeling his slick finger moving carefully inside him, knowing that Daniel was preparing him with the same attention he was currently lavishing on his cock. While Paul enjoyed a rough, wild fuck as much as Daniel did, he reveled in the tantalizing pleasure of a slow, tender coupling like this one. He abandoned himself to sensation once again, giving himself over completely to Daniel's care.
Paul felt a second and then a third finger inside him stretching his entrance even as Daniel began to suck him off with a fierce determination, the earlier teasing now discarded. Daniel was forced to use his free hand to hold Paul's hips in place as his instinct to buck, to seek out greater stimulation for both his cock and his ass became damned near overwhelming. When climax did arrive, shearing through his body, leaving him dazed and light headed, it was with the knowledge he was safe and secure in Daniel's arms. And then he felt them, wrapping around him, clasping him to Daniel's hard, warm body as Daniel rained moist kisses upon his face. He smiled up at Daniel, a dopey, sated grin and he reached up and traced his fingers down Daniel's cheekbones and along the curve of his full lower lip before he replaced the fingers with his own mouth.
"Now," he commanded, and Daniel responded immediately, raising Paul's legs and hooking them over his shoulder. He positioned himself at the well lubed entrance to Paul's ass and then slid inside in one long, stroke, a shuddering breath escaping his lungs as Daniel was sheathed fully inside his lover's body. Paul reached up and threaded his fingers in Daniel's hair, pulling him down into a searing, oxygen depriving kiss as Daniel held himself still, allowing Paul's body to become accustomed to the intrusion.
"Now," he instructed once again, and once again Daniel obeyed instinctively, setting a slow, languorous pace of smooth, even strokes. Paul rose up to meet him, loving the feel of the flesh filling him, moving inside him. He raised his hips higher and Daniel slid a pillow beneath him to give him support and then he gasped, as Daniel's cock brushed his prostate, sending ripples of fire throughout his body. He worked to hold that angle and Daniel shifted to meet him, sliding out then back in again to hit the sensitive nub over and over again.
Daniel was moving faster now, his rising need matching Paul's own as both bodies raced together towards completion. Daniel's face was flushed with exertion and arousal, sweat beading his forehead, dripping down his straining neck and arms, pooling in the well formed by his collarbones. Paul was impossibly hard once more, stunned breathless by the stimulation of his prostate and the sight of his lover's need. Their bodies were thrusting together, the sound of slapping flesh lost beneath the moans and gasps and broken words of love escaping their kiss swollen lips. Daniel reached out and wrapped his hand around the heated flesh of Paul's erection, jerking it roughly within the circle formed by his palm and fingers. Paul cried out as he came, climax taking him unawares, the muscles in his ass clenching reflexively, tightening about Daniel's cock, providing the final bit of stimulation that toppled Daniel over the edge. Daniel screamed his name, following Paul into the stunning oblivion of orgasm.
When Paul returned to himself, it was to find Daniel collapsed upon him, his dick still buried balls deep in his ass, gasping breathlessly upon Paul's chest. Paul felt a wave of love wash through him and he was loathe to move, to break the stillness of this tender tableau. He let his hands drift soothingly along Daniel's back, calming him, feeling the sweat dry on the broad back, aware of the sticky wetness on his belly, smeared between their two bodies. It didn't matter; nothing could mar this perfect moment in his mind.
So Paul lay there on the damp, sticky sheets in the dimly lit room, the only sound their ragged breath and the rain tapping on the shuttered windows as he allowed satiation and contentment to settle over him like a cloak. When Daniel did move, sliding his spent cock from Paul's body, Paul felt a sudden sense of loss at the severed connection. It passed, however, as Daniel rolled on to his back and pulled Paul into his arms, snuggling them both together as he reached out to snag the covers and nestle them beneath the warmth of the blanket.
"OK?" Daniel asked, his voice soft and husky, his features blurred and drowsy.
Was he OK? He rolled that question around in his mind and decided that he was. He leaned over and kissed Daniel lightly on the lips and assured him that he was better than OK, that right now he was wonderful. And that was the truth.
Daniel smiled back at him, that sweet smile that always made Paul's heart flutter like that of a school girl with a crush and said "good" before placing a gentle kiss on Paul's forehead. He set the alarm clock to wake them with plenty of time to share a private farewell before Paul had to return to the mountain and duty took hold of their lives once more. Daniel turned off the bedside lamp and wrapped his arms about Paul before drifting off into contented slumber.
Paul lay there for a long time, unwilling to allow himself the oblivion of sleep just yet, wanting to store up a few more memories of Daniel to keep him company during the lonely nights that lay ahead. But he realized that the dark mood that had haunted him before had finally lifted. The situation hadn't changed, wouldn't change any time soon, but he'd made his peace with it, he believed. And Daniel understood. That very fact made the whole situation more bearable somehow. He wasn't alone in this. He had Daniel and his love, and he had tonight. That was more than most people would ever have in their entire lifetime and maybe it wasn't enough, but it was still a hell of a lot.
Paul lay there listening to the rain, feeling Daniel's heart beating steadily beneath his ear, and his warm breath against his temple. They had tonight, and tomorrow morning and they'd have more nights like this one in the future. It was their one-year anniversary next month and he knew Daniel was long overdue for some leave. They could share that time together, and make a few more happy memories, just the two of them. Despite all his grousing about DC, he hoped he could lure Daniel there to visit. The Washington Opera was going to be in town and they were going to be performing "Carmen." He thought that tale might appeal to his passionate Daniel. And then maybe they could go out to dinner at Aquarelle. Or better yet, he could reserve a suite at the Watergate and they could spend the night sipping cognac on a balcony overlooking the Potomac and make love with the lights of the Washington skyline in the distance. It didn't matter. He didn't care where they went or what they did, just so long as they were together.
So Paul lay in his lover's bed and his lover's arms, dreaming of the future as the rain slowly faded and then stopped, leaving a gentle stillness in its wake. As he drifted off to slumber Paul knew that the morrow would dawn brighter than today and that hope, like love, was alive and well in his own little corner of the universe.
Finis