Dreams And Fables

by The Wild Mole 

Jack took a sip from his beer and watched Daniel paw through the contents of his refrigerator. From the way Daniel was tossing stuff into the waste bin by the sink, it looked to be a prime night for takeout.

"God, that's disgusting," was Daniel's pronouncement as something else landed in the can with a heavy thump.

Jack set the beer down and moved behind Daniel to peer down into the trashcan at the whatever-it-was. "Things a little past their sell by date?" he asked.

"Yes, well," Daniel responded, still gazing deep into the depths of the fridge. "Get zapped into a different phase for a few days and see how *your* groceries hold up."

Jack slipped his arms around Daniel's waist, relishing the slightly scratchy feel of Daniel's wool sweater against his forearms and the solidness of Daniel's body against his. Daniel's cold hands pressed against Jack's. He laced his fingers in with Jack's and held on tightly. Jack returned the pressure, reassuring them both that Daniel could be seen, heard and touched once more.

Jack looked over Daniel's shoulder at the empty shelves. He rested his chin on the rounded slope of Daniel's shoulder. "I think takeout is probably our best option."

"I don't know," Daniel said. "I'm sure I can do something with a stick of butter, some beer, a jar of olives, a can of diet soda and some...pimento loaf?" he hazarded. "I don't remember buying it, but it's got green bits in it."

"Pimentos aren't fuzzy, Daniel," Jack said. Trust Daniel to have a fridge that looked like its contents should be zatted and put out of their misery. "So, despite your kind offer, I think I'll stick with takeout being the better option."

Daniel turned his head to see Jack, and the kitchen light bounced off the lenses of his glasses, obscuring his eyes. "Chicken."

"That better be a dinner suggestion."

He got a small smile in response as Daniel slowly disentangled his fingers from Jack's. "Maybe." He kicked the door shut with his foot. "I think I've still got the menu from that Chinese place. See if you can find it. I want to grab a quick shower."

Daniel stepped down into the living room, threaded his way past the couch and coffee table and into his bedroom. Jack deliberately turned away when he caught himself staring at Daniel's open bedroom door. It wasn't like Daniel would disappear again; there weren't any crystal skulls or giant aliens hiding in his bedroom. Daniel had tried to convince Senator Kinsey of an alternate reality. Aliens in the bedroom would be small potatoes to him.

He went in search of the menu - like he was going to find anything in Daniel's apartment without a compass and a map. Jack had figured Daniel would be all into that fang way thing where everything had its place, but no. Daniel had more crap strewn around his place than a neighborhood garage sale – and that was just the living room.

The few times Jack had stayed over and gotten up during the night for something, his shins had come in intimate and unfortunate contact with Daniel's possessions. He was working on getting Daniel to install a nightlight, but Daniel was resisting. His idea of a compromise was suggesting Jack might want to get his vision checked.

"Find it?" Daniel called from the bedroom.

Jack could hear drawers shutting and then water running. "Looking," he called. To himself, he muttered, "Find it? Who is he kidding?" He turned in a full circle, then bent over and began rifling through the magazines and assorted pieces of mail on the coffee table. Finally, he unearthed the brightly colored piece of paper from where it was sandwiched between two newspapers. Score one for him.

He ordered an assortment of items and was hanging up the phone when Daniel reappeared dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, his feet bare. He sank slowly onto the sofa, making room for Jack when Jack nudged at him.

"What'd we get?" Daniel asked. His head rested against the back of the couch and his eyes were closed.

"Chinese."

Daniel opened his eyes and looked at Jack. "That's very helpful, Jack. You know, it's little reminders like these that help me see how you made Colonel."

"Tired?" Jack asked, as Daniel closed his eyes again.

Daniel shook his head. "While I was out of phase or whatever you want to call it, I kept...passing through things. Put my hand right through General Hammond, walked through walls, Teal'c walked through me..." He rubbed his hands against the sofa cushion. "It's just nice to have things back to normal."

Jack shifted on the couch to sit sideways so his knee touched Daniel's thigh. He'd missed this. He'd become so used to having Daniel around for the past three years – on Jack's six, or sitting across from him in the briefing room – that the past few days Daniel had been gone had felt empty and too quiet.

Jack hadn't left the mountain while first Rothman and then Sam had searched for some kind of answer to Daniel's disappearance. Going home would have brought up the other ways in which Daniel's disappearance felt wrong. It would have brought up the other ways in which Daniel wasn't there – not sitting on his couch groaning at Jack's choice of a movie, not banging around in the kitchen in search of something to drink...

Not curled up next to Jack in Jack's bed.

Thinking about that near-permanent loss sent an ache through Jack and he decided to banish it the best way he knew how. "Hey," he murmured. When Daniel opened his eyes, Jack leaned in and kissed him.

Daniel shifted on the couch and let Jack's weight carry him down to the cushions. Jack stretched out on top of him, one thigh pressed between Daniel's parted legs. He held Daniel's face in his hands as they kissed – slow, wet, deep kisses that stopped only long enough for Daniel to gasp in a breath.

Jack began pressing rhythmically against Daniel as Daniel ran his hands through Jack's hair, then stroked down Jack's sides and over his ass, pulling him closer. The familiar heat was building inside Jack and he wanted to pull Daniel into it, keep him warm and safe. He slipped a hand between them and began to work the button fly of Daniel's jeans, rubbing the hard bulge inside with the palm of his hand. Daniel was rocking against Jack now; small shudders ran through Daniel's body as he tangled his hands in Jack's hair. His moans sent a sharp spike of desire straight to Jack's groin.

The phone rang.

"Dammit!" Daniel swore from beneath him. Jack knew Daniel would have to answer it. It could be something important. It could be the SGC.

If it was a telemarketer, Jack was personally going to find him and rip his lungs out.

He rolled against the back of the couch as Daniel shuffled quickly for the phone, holding his pants up by the belt loops. He freed one hand to grab the receiver. "Hello?" There was a slight pause, and Daniel tucked the phone into his shoulder and began buttoning his pants. "Hi, Sam."

Jack groaned and clapped a hand to his forehead. Well, he couldn't rip Carter's lungs out; however, several nights of third watch were an option. He listened as Daniel assured Sam that he was fine; no, really he was. She had called just as he'd gotten out of the shower and had hurried to pick up the phone. Yes, he was feeling much better and he was just about to eat dinner. Yes, he'd make sure to follow Janet's orders and get a good night's sleep. Sure, he'd be at work in the morning.

"Yes, Carter," Jack muttered. "Thank you, Carter. Hang up, Carter."

The doorbell sounded. Daniel pointed to the phone still in his other hand and shrugged at Jack, who heaved a sigh and got up to pay the delivery person. He took the bag into the kitchen as Daniel wound up the phone call from Sam.

Daniel appeared a few moments later. "Sam just wanted to make sure I was fine," he said. He opened a cupboard and pulled down some plates. Forks clattered onto the countertop. Jack handed him the white, square cartons and Daniel dumped the food onto the plates. When Jack handed Daniel the last container, he felt Daniel's fingers briefly brush his as the transfer was made. He waited as Daniel very precisely opened the carton and began scooping rice out.

"Stay tonight?" Daniel seemed entirely absorbed by the task of making sure each grain of rice made it safely to the plate.

"You sure?" Both of them understood the need for caution; perhaps they erred too much on the side of it on occasion. Maybe tonight wasn't the time to be so careful.

"I'd like you to."

"Okay."

*****

They ate dinner out on the balcony and watched the cars drive by. Neither of them said much. When they were finished, they took their plates inside. Jack threw the leftovers into Daniel's refrigerator on the off chance he might eat them before they developed into another life form. He grabbed one of the last beers and watched Daniel wash and dry the few dishes.

"Where's Nick from anyway?" he asked. "Couldn't place the accent."

Daniel picked up a dishtowel and began drying off a plate. "He's Dutch."

"Really. You speak Dutch?"

"Yes."

"Speak some."

"Not right now, I don't think." Daniel stopped rubbing the dishtowel over the plate long enough to favor Jack with one of those looks, complete with raised eyebrows. It was the look that suggested Ritalin might be a viable alternative for Jack.

Jack decided to ignore the look and sipped his beer. "Think he'll come to visit soon?" He wasn't trying to be nosy – at least that's what he told himself.

Daniel set down the plate and folded the dishtowel. "No."

"Holidays, then," Jack's curiosity had been heightened by the way Daniel referred to Nick as "the not-so-great grandfather" in their briefing, but the view of Daniel and Nick's interaction from the cheap seats had been woefully short; Nick was there and then he wasn't, traipsing off with giant, see-through aliens.

Daniel tossed the towel on the counter and turned off the kitchen light. "No," he said again and went into the living room

Jack followed after Daniel to find him seated on the sofa and setting up the chessboard. He flopped down on the couch next to him. "Frequent flier miles?" Jack suggested.

Daniel set the pawn down very precisely on the chessboard before turning to face the other man. "Jack."

"What?" Jack agreed – or stalled.

Daniel was drawing his brows together, which meant he was getting pissed but was trying to be polite about it. "Why all the questions about Nick?"

Jack shrugged. "You never mentioned him and Frasier said the hospital told her you'd visited him. It just seemed like you guys should have a lot in common and—"

"Jack..." Daniel plucked the beer bottle out of Jack's hand and set it on the coffee table next to the chessboard. He pushed Jack back into the cushions. Jack stared up in surprise as Daniel straddled him and began busily unbuckling Jack's belt, unzipping his pants. He untucked Jack's shirt and pushed it up. Warm hands stroked over Jack's chest and down his sides before meeting again at his waist; Daniel's thumbs traced along the shallow vee of Jack's open pants. When he reached up for Daniel, Daniel grabbed Jack's hands in his and forced them over Jack's head, pressing them into the sofa. "We are not talking about Nick right now." He leaned in and kissed Jack for long moments before drawing back to trace the line of Jack's mouth with his tongue.

"Daniel." It was a reminder, a conversational placeholder. Daniel had to know this conversation wasn't going to just go away because he was doing...that right...there.

His balls, still trapped inside his pants, were already heavy and full. Daniel was already moving down Jack's legs and Jack's pants had somehow mysteriously ended up around his knees. He hissed out a breath as Daniel wrapped his fingers around the base of Jack's cock and slowly licked up the shaft, making sure Jack was watching him. "Daniel," he tried one last time.

"Jack." Daniel's warm breath flowed over the wet, hot skin of Jack's dick and Jack shivered. "We are not talking about Nick right now."

*****

"I did visit him. For a while."

Jack looked up briefly from the chessboard to see Daniel toying with one of the pawns he'd taken from Jack earlier. "A while implies you stopped," he said.

"We had a fight." Daniel set the pawn down and picked up another one.

Jack turned his attention back to the game and considered his strategy for a few moments. He picked his move and executed it. "What'd you fight about?"

Daniel frowned at the chessboard. His hand hovered over each of his pieces as he tried to make up his mind. "Lots of things," he said finally. He moved his queen. "Check."

Jack considered what "lots of things" could be. He'd been surprised when Nick had berated an in absentia Daniel for being a fool. Daniel was unorthodox and, at times, the complete opposite of what Jack wanted or needed, but a fool? Hardly. He would have thought that Nick would have been busting with pride at having such an intelligent grandson who'd obviously followed in the family footsteps. Instead, he was busting Daniel's chops and it didn't sound like the first time, either. "He was probably just pissed you knew more languages as a kid than he did."

He scrubbed a hand through his hair and yanked his attention back to the game. How had he gotten into this? It looked like he was running out of options. Sighing, he picked up a piece and tried to counter Daniel.

"He wouldn't know."

Jack's eyebrows rose. Nick didn't know? Daniel was his grandson. Didn't grandfathers keep up with their grandkids' doings for bragging rights at the old folks' home if nothing else? He watched Daniel make his move and was about to start considering his defense when Daniel's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Checkmate."

Jack looked up from the board to see Daniel holding out his hand. He picked up his king and placed it in Daniel's open palm.

*****

Jack rolled over and saw Daniel was still asleep.

Or at least pretending he was.

They were in bed together, however Jack had the feeling of being kept at arm's length Daniel tended to sprawl when he slept but tonight he'd barely moved from his side of the mattress. He'd glanced over at Daniel several times, sure that he'd see Daniel sleeping with his arms crossed over his chest. It was a signal that Daniel was being either particularly stubborn or not in the mood to have anyone cross his personal boundaries.

Daniel had played many roles in life, Jack reflected. He'd been a student, a teacher, a husband and a widower, among other things. Whatever hurts Nick may have inflicted on an eight-year-old child had long been smoothed over, buried under the weight of Daniel's years. Seeing Nick and having to rely on him might have re-opened that old wound.

He fit his body against Daniel's, slid an arm around Daniel's waist and kissed the knob at the top of his spine. He caressed Daniel's hip and the length of his thigh and then waited. Daniel was going to have to make the next move. There were times he'd rather trip through a minefield blindfolded than try and guess what Daniel might be thinking.

He'd nearly given up when Daniel pressed back against him and insinuated one of his feet in between Jack's ankles. Jack's arm tightened around Daniel's waist and he felt Daniel's thigh muscles tense as he pressed back against Jack again. As they settled into a slow rhythm, Jack kissed along the line of Daniel's neck and down to his shoulder, one hand supporting his weight. He slid his hand down Daniel's stomach, then along the warm, slightly sweaty skin on the inside of his thigh and then grasped Daniel's half-hard cock.

Jack squeezed in time with the motion of their bodies. Daniel made a low sound deep in his throat and Jack repeated the rough caress just to hear the sound again. Jack's dick rubbed against Daniel's ass every time they moved, and the heat and friction made his breath catch.

He stroked and pulled, feeling Daniel's cock lengthen and harden. He toyed with the slit, pulling it apart slightly and slicking his fingers with the liquid at the tip. Daniel was full and heavy as he thrust into Jack's hand. The glide of Daniel's sweat-damp skin against his, coupled with the little half-groans Daniel was making, had Jack's own dick hard.

Daniel rolled over onto his back and pulled Jack on top of him into an embrace so tight that Jack thought he heard his ribs creak. Daniel's nails scraped along Jack's back and up over his shoulders. He rocked against Jack's weight, tangling his legs with Jack's and writhing underneath him as he caught Jack's face in his hands and kissed him hard. The tang of warm copper salt was in his mouth when Daniel bit Jack's lip and forced Jack's mouth open, to taste and be tasted.

They were touching and moving, wrapped around each other, wrapped up in each other until Daniel tore his mouth from Jack's to let out a long, low moan. He bucked his hips once, then twice. The spurt of warm, wet heat triggered Jack's own response, and his climax left him slightly dazed. He pulled Daniel to him

Daniel pressed his face to Jack's chest. He kissed Jack's collarbone and touched his tongue to the trickle of sweat pooled in the hollow of Jack's neck. Jack returned the tenderness, gently rubbing his fingers against the base of Daniel's skull and up into the short hair. He listened to Daniel's breathing slow down. Finally, Daniel raised his head and kissed him gently, touching his tongue to the raised, sore spot on the inside of Jack's lower lip where he'd bitten him.

Jack let himself drowse, lulled by quiet in the room and the soothing, constant motion of Daniel's hand across his chest. When Daniel spoke, it was soft and Jack almost missed it.

"He didn't adopt me when my parents died. That's why he wouldn't know."

Jack said nothing. Daniel and Nick were more alike than probably either one would have credited, yet those similarities had pulled them apart instead of tying them together. He didn't understand the decision Nick had made. Family was supposed to take care of family. It was something his father had drummed into him starting with how Jack was the "man of the house" when his father was away on trips. You looked out for your own.

"He was traveling all over the world," Daniel added into the silence. "He couldn't exactly take a child along with him."

"Didn't seem like your parents had a problem with either the concept or execution of that idea," Jack said. That was apparently the wrong answer. He felt Daniel tense and start to move away. Jack tightened the muscles of the arm around Daniel's shoulders. Daniel stayed still for a moment and then subsided, resuming his previous position. "Not your fault."

"I know. I was eight years old. How could it possibly be my fault?"

Daniel's response sounded old and tired, rote. Any intensity had been lost somewhere in some age-old argument Daniel had had with himself or with Nick, Jack decided. Still, stack Nick's five-minute proud Grandpa speech against several years of being called a fool and guess which one was going to come out on top nine times out of ten. "Daniel..."

"Jack." Daniel rose up on his elbows and kissed Jack, slow and sweet. "It's fine. Grandparents are for me like mythology is for you. That's just the way it is." He lay back down and shifted until he was comfortably wrapped around Jack. "Go to sleep. I'm corporeal once again. You guys are all radiation-free. Everything is back to status quo."

Jack stayed awake after Daniel had fallen asleep, one arm still around Daniel's shoulders. He stared out into the dark bedroom. Wherever you are, Nick, I hope it was worth it.

~fin~