Wingspan
For avidrosette, for her invaluable help on Summer Vacation.
Title: Wingspan
Author: muck-a-luck, posting in brainofck
Pairing: Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sam assured him that Jack's flight could not be explained by the usual rules of aeronautic science and physics.
Content/warnings: Wing!fic
Words: 837
Disclaimer: If anybody is planning a script like this for SG-1, I'm certainly not going to claim any rights to it. However, I'd be delighted to work in a co-writing/consulting/first-reader/advisory-type capacity, with my fee to be negotiated at that time. :D
Archive rights: Absolutely none. My journals only. muck_a_luck and brainofck
The Matrix: Air. The Matrix is located here.
Daniel Jackson had seen a lot of amazing, awe-inspiring things in his travels.
Jack O'Neill in flight was the most beautiful.
Swooping. Soaring. Flying over the valley below, against an alien panorama; a mountain range higher and more vast than the Himalayas and the Alps and the Andes combined.
Daniel still forgot to breathe whenever he witnessed Jack's launching leaps. Sam assured him that Jack's flight could not be explained by the usual rules of aeronautic science and physics. His fragile wings, a mere twelve feet from tip to tip, should not be able to lift his bipedal body, designed for plodding on solid earth, and propel it through the air. By her rules, Jack's wings should be barely functional for gliding, or possibly for riding updrafts and coasting on air currents. Jack's body should hang limply below, not stretch taught and straight as the fuselage of the jets his new anatomy no longer allowed him to fly. Jack should not be able to flap his wings like a sparrow and fly, diving and turning with the agility and speed of a hunting hawk.
At the moment, Jack was turning wider and wider circles high overhead. Daniel didn't know what Jack thought while he flew. Did he supervise the mining works that crawled over the mountains across from his aerie? He was always in radio contact, and he was the commanding officer of the project.
Daniel suspected Jack's mind was on other things, no matter how he seemed attentive in staff meetings and focused in his reports back to the SGC. Daniel felt Jack changing, his thoughts becoming more distant and other even as his vision became super-sharp and his hearing became hyper-sensitive.
Jack's staff had felt the changes, too. Witnessed them. It has been Major Leif who had pleaded with General Hammond for relief.
"He flies, sir, all the time."
"The camp is running smoothly, Major. I haven't seen any lack of attention to his duty."
"I know, sir. It isn't that. He's…" the major paused, and SG-1 and the general waited patiently for him to collect his thoughts. Finally, he looked his commanding officer in the eye and said, "I think he's lonely, sir. I think he misses a real field command. I'm waiting for the day he just flies away."
General Hammond took his officer's concerns under advisement, and then asked how Daniel would feel about continuing his membership in SG-1 while commuting by Stargate.
No one asked Daniel about his life in Jack's nest. They were all so relieved he had come to tame their strange, abrupt, abrasive commanding officer that they didn't question his methods. No one dared say that Jack had been broody, but Daniel could see that now that his mate had arrived, Jack's mood was calmer and his sense of humor returned.
No one asked Daniel what it was like to be mounted by an eagle or owned by a bird of prey; or to hold the fluttering heart of a flying creature in his own hands.
And Jack continued to change.
The day came when he left radio contact. Daniel saw him disappear, first dwindling to a barely visible dot on the horizon, then vanishing from view completely. His heart didn't beat properly until that night when the bed shifted and warm feathers covered him.
Daniel hadn't tried to radio him, and Jack's secret venture remained secret.
Then he was gone for two days with no contact.
When he reported back to a Major Lief on the verge of panic, trying to plan a search and rescue with the vaguest hope of success, Jack made his apologies, saying he was blown off course by an unexpected varying jet stream and it took him a whole day to find a landmark he recognized and make his way back.
The fact that Jack felt this was adequate explanation, and the fact that Major Leif accepted it just illustrated exactly how strange the situation had become.
When Jack asked for a week's leave for himself and Daniel without checking with Daniel first, Daniel was irritated, but not surprised.
"I'm three mission-reports behind, not to mention seven different projects need my attention," he ranted.
His birdman just smiled serenely, flicking his wing tips and running his fingers through feathers, preening and smoothing.
"There's something you have to see," was all Jack would say.
Daniel flew with Jack often. It was the only way to reach the aerie. But he had never flown with him for nearly two whole days.
The jungles beyond the mountains were lush. The plains beyond a deep, grass green. The beach and the sea, were spectacular.
Jack spread his wings on the beach. The blue feathers were iridescent in the sun.
Daniel stared up into the clear sky. He fell asleep dreaming of pyramids. A falling dream wrenched him awake to find himself under the shade of sky blue feathers, protected from sun and sand and salt water, Jack's breath ruffling his hair and dampening his cheek.
If you're interested, all my stories, in order, from one page. Also, my fiction recommendations.
Title: Wingspan
Author: muck-a-luck, posting in brainofck
Pairing: Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sam assured him that Jack's flight could not be explained by the usual rules of aeronautic science and physics.
Content/warnings: Wing!fic
Words: 837
Disclaimer: If anybody is planning a script like this for SG-1, I'm certainly not going to claim any rights to it. However, I'd be delighted to work in a co-writing/consulting/first-reader/advisory-type capacity, with my fee to be negotiated at that time. :D
Archive rights: Absolutely none. My journals only. muck_a_luck and brainofck
The Matrix: Air. The Matrix is located here.
Daniel Jackson had seen a lot of amazing, awe-inspiring things in his travels.
Jack O'Neill in flight was the most beautiful.
Swooping. Soaring. Flying over the valley below, against an alien panorama; a mountain range higher and more vast than the Himalayas and the Alps and the Andes combined.
Daniel still forgot to breathe whenever he witnessed Jack's launching leaps. Sam assured him that Jack's flight could not be explained by the usual rules of aeronautic science and physics. His fragile wings, a mere twelve feet from tip to tip, should not be able to lift his bipedal body, designed for plodding on solid earth, and propel it through the air. By her rules, Jack's wings should be barely functional for gliding, or possibly for riding updrafts and coasting on air currents. Jack's body should hang limply below, not stretch taught and straight as the fuselage of the jets his new anatomy no longer allowed him to fly. Jack should not be able to flap his wings like a sparrow and fly, diving and turning with the agility and speed of a hunting hawk.
At the moment, Jack was turning wider and wider circles high overhead. Daniel didn't know what Jack thought while he flew. Did he supervise the mining works that crawled over the mountains across from his aerie? He was always in radio contact, and he was the commanding officer of the project.
Daniel suspected Jack's mind was on other things, no matter how he seemed attentive in staff meetings and focused in his reports back to the SGC. Daniel felt Jack changing, his thoughts becoming more distant and other even as his vision became super-sharp and his hearing became hyper-sensitive.
Jack's staff had felt the changes, too. Witnessed them. It has been Major Leif who had pleaded with General Hammond for relief.
"He flies, sir, all the time."
"The camp is running smoothly, Major. I haven't seen any lack of attention to his duty."
"I know, sir. It isn't that. He's…" the major paused, and SG-1 and the general waited patiently for him to collect his thoughts. Finally, he looked his commanding officer in the eye and said, "I think he's lonely, sir. I think he misses a real field command. I'm waiting for the day he just flies away."
General Hammond took his officer's concerns under advisement, and then asked how Daniel would feel about continuing his membership in SG-1 while commuting by Stargate.
No one asked Daniel about his life in Jack's nest. They were all so relieved he had come to tame their strange, abrupt, abrasive commanding officer that they didn't question his methods. No one dared say that Jack had been broody, but Daniel could see that now that his mate had arrived, Jack's mood was calmer and his sense of humor returned.
No one asked Daniel what it was like to be mounted by an eagle or owned by a bird of prey; or to hold the fluttering heart of a flying creature in his own hands.
And Jack continued to change.
The day came when he left radio contact. Daniel saw him disappear, first dwindling to a barely visible dot on the horizon, then vanishing from view completely. His heart didn't beat properly until that night when the bed shifted and warm feathers covered him.
Daniel hadn't tried to radio him, and Jack's secret venture remained secret.
Then he was gone for two days with no contact.
When he reported back to a Major Lief on the verge of panic, trying to plan a search and rescue with the vaguest hope of success, Jack made his apologies, saying he was blown off course by an unexpected varying jet stream and it took him a whole day to find a landmark he recognized and make his way back.
The fact that Jack felt this was adequate explanation, and the fact that Major Leif accepted it just illustrated exactly how strange the situation had become.
When Jack asked for a week's leave for himself and Daniel without checking with Daniel first, Daniel was irritated, but not surprised.
"I'm three mission-reports behind, not to mention seven different projects need my attention," he ranted.
His birdman just smiled serenely, flicking his wing tips and running his fingers through feathers, preening and smoothing.
"There's something you have to see," was all Jack would say.
Daniel flew with Jack often. It was the only way to reach the aerie. But he had never flown with him for nearly two whole days.
The jungles beyond the mountains were lush. The plains beyond a deep, grass green. The beach and the sea, were spectacular.
Jack spread his wings on the beach. The blue feathers were iridescent in the sun.
Daniel stared up into the clear sky. He fell asleep dreaming of pyramids. A falling dream wrenched him awake to find himself under the shade of sky blue feathers, protected from sun and sand and salt water, Jack's breath ruffling his hair and dampening his cheek.
If you're interested, all my stories, in order, from one page. Also, my fiction recommendations.