Fic: Here & Now, Part I
Jack got the heads-up from Teal’c that the mess hall had banana bread. Since that treat never lasted long, he made it a priority to go get a piece. He met Sam in the hall, holding a slice of banana bread with a bite missing. She was humming to herself - one of those sappy 80s love ballads, Jack was pretty sure.
“Someone had a good anniversary,” he said by way of greeting.
“That obvious?”
“Humming.”
“Ah.” She blushed a tiny bit, the deflected with, “It was great. And if I’m not mistaken, I’m not the only one with an anniversary coming up.”
“In a few weeks. Is the banana bread good?”
“Of course. I’ve got an experiment running…”
“See you later.”
She nodded and headed towards the elevator. Jack gave her five minutes, tops, before she started humming again. Good for her and Eddie.
He secured himself one of the thicker slices of banana bread. “It never fails,” remarked Airman Rains to the new guy, whose name escaped Jack. “Every time there’s banana bread, within ten minutes of Teal’c leaving, the rest of SG-1 comes in.”
Since he doubted that he was supposed to have heard that, Jack pretended he didn’t. SG-1 had a thing about banana bread. It had started on P4X-347 while they were weaning themselves off that addictive radiation from the damned light show. Daniel had mentioned wanting banana bread, and before they could go home all of them wanted banana bread. So one morning a few days after they got back Teal’c had let them know first thing that banana bread was available, and that had become a tradition.
In the nearest corner the members of SG-27 were debating the relative merit of Vegemite and Marmite. Jack once tried Marmite when he was in Britain, and he was far from a picky eater, but that was nasty stuff. He’d stick with the banana bread, thanks.
Daniel entered, reading a printout of some kind. Jack didn’t know anyone else who could walk and read as easily as his lover managed it.
“Jack, look at this!”
He found himself holding the printout and trying to make sense of it while Daniel grabbed banana bread. “What exactly am I looking at?”
“Possibly the next really important archaeological find,” said Daniel, as though that explained everything. The printout was clearly in some kind of code.
“This isn’t gonna be about big honkin’ guns, is it?”
Daniel didn’t even reply to that. “See this?” He was clearly excited, pointing to an area on the map with lots of lines close together.
“I see it. I don’t know what it means.”
“It’s the topographical survey from P2Z-048. The closer the lines, the higher the elevation.”
“Ah,” he said with a nod. If Daniel had mentioned that it was a topographical map earlier, he’d have gotten it. “It’s a high point.”
“Not just any high point. I think it’s a partially buried pyramid!”
Now he understood his boyfriend’s excitement. “You think it has more Goa’uld gadgets than ours.”
“It’s entirely possible. Of course, we’ll need to get the MALP footage first. Just think of what an abandoned pyramid could teach us, Jack.”
Offhand, Jack was having a bit of trouble coming up with anything special except new toys, but he knew better than to say that. Instead he remarked, “Let’s hope they didn’t clean house first.”
Daniel frowned slightly but continued, “Even then, the pyramid itself, along with art, can tell us a great deal.”
“Let me know when you get the footage,” he said, recognizing that Daniel was itching to get back to his office and his mental archaeology world.
“I will.”
“And Daniel?”
“Yes?”
“Remember to taste the banana bread.”
*****
It was three days before Daniel got the MALP footage he’d been waiting for, and he was surveying it, a little bit unhappy that he was forced to choose between two different and equally fascinating dig sites. Rationally, he understood that SGC had limited resources, but that didn't mean he'd have to like it. This was nothing personal - and certainly nothing he'd hold against Jack - but it still irked him.
He was strongly leaning towards the pyramid on P2Z-048. Or at least, he was 95% certain it was a pyramid. That was a dig he would personally join in, at least for part of it. The possible finds were tantalizing, but then on the other hand there was the site with hints that it had Scandinavian ties which could mean Asgard…
When the phone rang, he paused the footage but his mind was still half on the dilemma. "Hello?"
"Dr. Daniel Jackson?" asked an unfamiliar voice.
"Yes."
"Melbourne and Claire's son?"
That got his full attention. "Yes. And you are?"
"Dr. Fred Saunders. You're a hard man to track down. I had to talk to five Air Force representatives before they connected me. I knew your parents, and I recently found a photo of them. I've been going through things - cancer, not much time left, you know - and anyway, it occurred to me you might want this."
Daniel wished his parents had taken more family photos, but he had one of him at age six with both of his parents smiling over a coin he'd found. It hung on the wall in his study at home. He had precious little that had belonged to his parents, but he had a few things which were special to him: a treasured set of archaeological tools, some books, his paternal grandfather's pocketwatch, which his father had been fond of, and his mother's favorite necklace.
"I really would," he told Dr. Saunders.
"We were in the PhD program together," explained his parents' old acquaintance. "I was a year or two ahead of your parents. Anyway, we were on a dig near the Sudanese border in Egypt when your father proposed to your mother. I took this picture when they got back to the camp, both smiling ear-to-ear, and your mom was showing off her ring. We kept in touch until…” Saunders coughed. “Anyway, that dig must've been, let's see, '60 or so."
“I’d love to have it,” he said sincerely. “And I’m very sorry to hear about your cancer.”
“Ah, I’ve had a good run. Where should I send the picture?”
He gave his home address, and Dr. Saunders repeated it back to make sure he’d heard correctly. “Right then, I’ll get this out to you.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate all the trouble you went through to find me.”
“Oh, I know your parents would’ve done the same. Mind you, your mother probably would’ve done it a decade earlier - always on the ball, she was. What are you doing with the Air Force, anyway?”
“I’m a linguist,” he said, and left it at that for the sake of simplicity, as he often did.
“Makes sense. Your father liked to brag about your ear for languages before you were even three.”
Daniel smiled a little, remembering his father’s pride in his linguistic abilities. Meanwhile, after a cough, Dr. Saunders continued, “I hope you’re happy, son. When your dad went on too long about how you were going to be a genius, your mom always interrupted him and said the most important thing was for you to be happy. It’s the kind of thing a man thinks about at the end.” The older man said this last sentence matter-of-factly, in a way that didn’t ask for pity.
“I am,” replied Daniel honestly. He had a wonderful man who adored him, a fulfilling job, and great friends. Not to mention cheating death more times than he could keep track of. “I truly am.”
“Glad to hear it. Oh, there’s the doorbell, should be my daughter.”
“Thank you, again.”
“My pleasure. Take care.”
“You too,” he said. When he hung up, he spared a moment to consider his own past before getting back to the more distant past.
*****
Daniel had been checking the mail anxiously for several days and was finally rewarded with an envelope from one Dr. F. Saunders. Jack looked at the picture over Daniel’s shoulder. He recognized the couple from the picture in Daniel’s study, though obviously his lover’s parents were younger in this photo.
It was a small black-and-white, still crisp and unfaded. Both of Daniel’s parents had wide smiles; Melbourne’s arm was around Claire’s waist and she was holding her hand out, showing her ring off to the camera. There was a river in the background which Jack guessed had to be the Nile.
“Nice,” he commented.
Daniel nodded. “They look so happy.”
While his lover read the accompanying letter, Jack figured he’d get going on the important matter of food. A quick scan of the fridge revealed that it was time to go grocery shopping. He found a box of chicken cordon bleu in the freezer along with a bag of green beans. Frozen food was a wonderful thing.
He didn’t need to check the box to know the oven temperature, as this particular brand of stuffed chicken breasts was one of Daniel’s favorites. The oven was preheating and he’d sorted through the rest of the mail by the time Daniel finished reading his letter.
He recognized the look on Daniel’s face as contemplative in just the way that meant not to interrupt him by asking questions. So instead Jack pulled out a chair; before he’d even sat down Zelda was at his feet, ready for attention.
“You’re spoiled,” he told the dog as he proceeded to rub her stomach. Both he and Daniel were responsible for that - though at last Jack had gotten his boyfriend to give smaller pieces of cheese for the sake of Zelda’s health.
He petted the dog for several minutes before Daniel announced, “This is different. To read about my parents like this.”
“Like how?”
“Adults,” replied Daniel automatically.
Ah. That made sense. Most people transitioned into that, seeing their parents not just as mom and dad. Daniel never had - his parents had only ever been parents and archaeologists to him. “Good different or bad different?” asked Jack carefully.
“Good.”
Daniel wasn’t really in a sharing mood yet, which was his prerogative. Jack, reassured that his lover was thinking and not brooding, put the chicken in the oven and decided it was as good a time as any to load the dishwasher. Zelda disagreed, and was not amused that Daniel was too busy thinking to pick up the petting where Jack had left off.
He’d filled up the top rack and was just moving on to the bottom when Daniel spoke. “He said my mother always wanted me to be happy.”
Jack didn’t have a clue where this was going, so he settled on supportive silence.
“I always - all this time I wondered what they would think of my work.”
Now the penny dropped for Jack. “You’re more than the sum of your finds, Daniel.”
“I know that.” He damn well better, or Jack would’ve failed miserably, even before they got together as lovers. Fortunately, Daniel was a lousy liar and it was obvious he was telling the truth. “I just never really thought about it in context of what my parents wanted for me, somehow. I think… I think I got caught up in carrying on their work.”
Jack had given up on not thinking ill of the dead a long time ago, which was a good thing since he was mentally cursing Nick Ballard. Again. “Parents want their kids to be happy,” he said with conviction.
Happy, and alive… but this was about Daniel’s ghosts, not his.
“It’s a good life.” Daniel smiled.
“Yeah,” agreed Jack whole-heartedly.
“And that special on the Vikings in North America is on tonight.”
Not the kind of connection most people would make, but then Daniel wasn’t most people by any means. He mostly watched specials because he couldn’t find enough hours in a day to read all the books and articles he wanted. Jack wondered if the clouds would hold off long enough that he could stargaze while Daniel’s special was on.
“Which you promised to watch with me.”
He groaned. “Not fair, tricking me into that.”
“I didn’t trick you.”
“Yes you did.”
“How?” challenged Daniel, an all-too-knowing glint in his eyes.
He knew just what he’d done: mention it when Jack was still enjoying his post-orgasmic bliss and prone to saying dumb things like, “Sure, I can spare an hour for Vikings.”
Though, all things considered, Vikings were not as bad as a lot of the specials Daniel liked. Still, Jack insisted, “You can’t just start talking about these things after mind-blowing sex and expect-”
He never got to finish, because Daniel cut in with, “Please. Your mind had nothing to do with what I was blowing.”
Jack couldn’t come up with a suitable response (he did so love it when Daniel started talking dirty), so all he could do was resign himself to the special and hope it would be followed by a repeat of the other activities.
*****
Paul Davis was having a highly productive day, having thrown himself into his work with even more vigor than usual. He reasoned that if his personal life wasn’t going well, at least his professional life could. And sure, it wasn’t the end of the world, but halfway through what had seemed like a promising third date it had come to light that his date actually had a wife. Paul hadn’t stayed around to listen to the philandering man’s excuses. He had no respect for cheaters.
Work, on the other hand, went smoothly. He was sitting at his desk going over minutes from the last IOC meeting when General O’Neill came in through the half-open door. “General,” said Paul, pushing back his chair to stand.
“At ease, Davis.”
He stood at ease. “What can I do for you, sir?”
“I heard you’re running to raise money for wounded vets.”
“Yes sir, next Saturday.” He enjoyed running, and was only too happy to help his fellow service members. “We’re raising money for a new, disabled-friendly rec center over at Peterson.” There was even talk of wheelchair-height pool tables.
The general nodded. “Great. Put me down for a hundred and fifty, will you? I’ll bring it in Monday.”
“Thank you, sir. That’s generous of you.”
“It’s a good cause.”
“That it is.” Just then, Paul remembered Dr. Jackson’s injury. It was hardly noticeable most of the time, although in the gym the archaeologist always took the elliptical instead of the treadmill, because he said it was better if his feet stayed put. That was all thanks to the Asgard, of course. Most of the military didn’t get that kind of help.
O’Neill glanced at the papers. Paul had learned that this was a subtle inquiry. He’d been a bit confused by the general’s periodic visits - O’Neill had never struck him as a micromanager - until Colonel Fisk explained that the general liked to go on rounds to see what was going on. So he answered the silent question, “IOC minutes.”
“The Russians still being reasonable?”
“Yes sir.” The Russian government had settled into a fairly routine position. They were naturally interested in more influence at SGC, but they seemed to trust O’Neill, they were happy with the Russian team, and most of all they were content to let the U.S. foot the bill. The Chinese delegate was actually more of a pain in the ass, though all talk and no action.
“Good.”
“Always, sir.”
“Have a nice weekend, Davis.”
“You too, sir.”
After the Pentagon, it was truly refreshing to have a CO as relatable and genuine as Jack O’Neill.
*****
It was a nice spring Saturday, so Jack and Teal’c could hardly wait to get out the paintball guns and go off to use them. Daniel didn’t especially see the appeal, but he did have to admit that he’d rather play paintball than do his taxes. Unfortunately, he’d put off taxes so long that he didn’t have much longer to get them finished. Jack, of course, had submitted his a month earlier. That alone made Daniel wish they could submit a joint return.
He didn’t even have Zelda’s company. There were squirrels in the back yard, and she’d evidently decided it was her mission for the day to make their lives as miserable as possible. Fortunately she didn’t bark too often, only when a squirrel got cheeky and thought it would get near the house or her doghouse. Thus occupied, she had no interested in coming inside. Daniel couldn’t blame her when the most exciting thing he had to tempt her with was tax preparation.
At last, he was almost done. He’d just need to check his math again before declaring his taxes finished and submitting them. First things first, though. It was time for a coffee break.
He looked out the back window to check on Zelda while his coffee brewed. She was sitting on guard lest the squirrels get any ideas about leaving the tree she’d chased them up. Jack had set up the run so she could get to the tree for extra shade, if she didn’t want to be in her doghouse. Evidently this was also useful for trapping squirrels.
There were a couple handfuls of grapes left, so he pulled them out of the fridge and ate them as the delicious scent of quality coffee filled the kitchen. It had taken some time to get used to being able to buy such perishable fruit. Fresh produce had a tendency to spoil with alarming frequency when he was on SG-1, but now more often than not he and Jack got to their fruits and vegetables in time.
He’d also converted Jack to the good coffee, and Daniel didn’t believe it for a minute when Jack muttered something about two brands not making sense because they had so many containers of grounds and beans taking up space.
The latest Journal of Linguistics had arrived two days ago but he hadn’t gotten to it yet. He read through the table of contents and, once his coffee was ready, settled in to read the most promising article.
The coffee was gone and he’d almost finished the article when he heard Jack’s key in the lock. He put the journal down and went to see how much damage Teal’c had managed this time. Jack’s paintball clothes had a few new orange splotches. Teal’c had clearly gotten in good hits. “I got him too,” Jack said. That was not at all hard to believe. Both Jack and Teal’c took paintball fairly seriously. Daniel had his suspicions that their intensity frightened more casual players.
He didn’t know how his partner had managed to get paint specks in his hair, and then there was the mud. It looked like Jack had decided to use some dirt as camouflage, and only wiped about half of it off. He was a mess.
“I’m going to shower,” announced Jack.
Finishing the article and double-checking his tax form could wait, Daniel decided, because the shower presented intriguing possibilities. “I’ll help.”
“Help?” asked Jack with an anticipatory grin. He nobly did his utmost to be supportive of Daniel’s periodic desire for shower sex.
“We can’t have you missing a spot,” he answered solemnly, though he was pretty sure his face would give away his less-than-solemn mood.
“I did get a little stiff waiting in ambush.”
Daniel failed to remain serious and let out a chuckle. “Come on, Jack.”
His partner was only too eager to follow him to the shower.
*****
George was already enjoying his retirement. He had found a comfortable little house not far from his daughter’s place. Speaking of his daughter, Allie was happier than she’d been in years. She’d been shattered when her husband left, but had finally moved on and was dating a wonderful man who adored her and the girls. George expected an engagement any day now. Kayla was very quickly turning into a young woman and Tessa wasn’t far behind.
Yes, it was good to relax and enjoy what he considered a well-earned retirement. He bought himself a new set of golf clubs for a retirement present and they’d already seen more use than his old set had in a decade.
SG-1 had insisted on a little dinner in his honor at Jack and Daniel’s house. Jack, as usual, had grilled some great steaks. George would’ve bet money that Daniel had put together the shish kabobs, because Jack had never been one for such exotic vegetables. They were good, though George thought grilling bamboo shoots was a bit unusual. Teal’c (who was apparently banned from using the grill) had brought chips and dip, and Colonel Carter had been talked into making a cheesecake. George suspected Jack requested cheesecakes as often as he thought he could get away with it.
“This is great, Sam,” said Daniel.
George had to agree. She’d made a fine mocha cheesecake. “Delicious.”
“As always,” noted Jack between bites.
“This is a most enjoyable talent,” added Teal’c.
“Thanks,” said Carter. “The only downside to this talent is the number of cheesecake requests I keep getting.” This she said with a look Jack’s way, but he pretended not to notice.
Jack and Daniel had grown used to acting like the couple they were, with little touches and looks. They had also gotten both rings and a dog since George’s last visit. According to Daniel, their next door neighbors were able to take care of the black lab if needed. Zelda was a pleasure. George hadn’t owned a dog in some years, and resolved to consider the idea.
This dinner was the kind of thing George had sorely missed the last three years. Washington wasn’t a good place to make friends. He’d only had one real friend, Admiral Craig Powers, but Craig had retired the previous year and was happily spending his days fishing off the coast of Florida.
So this kind of relaxed evening was just what he’d hoped. Certainly there had been a retirement celebration for him in D.C., but it was not the same. Here with SG-1 there were no overtones of favor-currying and political jockeying. It was a simple, pleasant evening with people who cared about his happiness. George found it refreshing.
Now he was trying to transition to a first-name basis. He and Jack had, at some length, gotten there already. Teal’c didn’t really do first names, for reasons George had never understood. Anyway, he wasn’t too worried about it. Carter - Sam - had at least stopped saying ‘sir’ halfway through dinner. George didn’t want to hear ‘sir’ anymore.
There had been some excitement that afternoon at SGC, and he was intently listening to the story. Evidently SG-2 had come back early because of an earthquake. Or a P2Y-420-quake, as Jack had noted.
“We were just waiting for Warren when a rabbit came through the gate,” explained Jack. “Only it was smaller and faster than our rabbits.”
“Eddie named it Energizer,” said Sam. George caught Daniel rolling his eyes at that.
“Right,” continued Jack. “So the SFs were swinging their weapons around all over the place, trying to keep this thing targeted. Meanwhile Larson was telling them not to shoot, that it’s a perfectly harmless herbivore. By the time Warren came through the rest of his team was chasing this rabbit around the gate room, but the SFs were still targeting it, so Warren wasn’t too happy that all the SFs had his team in their sights.”
He had to chuckle at the image. This was the sort of amusing, harmless thing that never happened at the Pentagon. But Jack wasn’t done.
“Suddenly this thing stopped on the ramp and lay down. Next thing I know, Larson’s telling me it’s having babies.”
“Eddie Hallowell was most delighted,” noted Teal’c.
Daniel mused, “I’ve never seen SFs look so out of place.”
“Hallowell and Lee turned the gate room into a vet clinic,” complained Jack, but everyone knew he was highly amused like the rest of them.
George smiled and took another bite of his cheesecake. He was going to enjoy retirement even more if he still got to hear stories from SGC.
*****
Daniel was running a couple minutes late to meet Jack and go home, but that wasn’t particularly unusual. What was unusual, however, was the sight that met him when the elevator doors opened: Teal’c leading a small parade of airmen laden with Target bags.
“Um, Teal’c?”
“Rya’c tells me it is likely to be a very cold winter,” reported Teal’c.
“I think he bought every blanket in Target,” muttered one of the airmen.
The scene began to made sense. It was just turning to winter for Teal’c’s family, and the Free Jaffa did not have a lot of resources. Teal’c was committed to helping where he could, above and beyond what SGC gave. He sent all manner of things: goats, seed potatoes, and now blankets. These were things the Jaffa had never needed to worry about under the Goa’uld.
“I did not,” corrected Teal’c. “An employee began to restock immediately.”
The airman, who obviously had forgotten about Teal’c’s great hearing, just got on the elevator. Daniel sort of wished he’d been there to witness Teal’c buying every blanket Target had on the shelves.
Jack meandered into view; from his expression it was clear he’d been watching the blanket parade with amusement. “You got pink Barbie blankets?”
“They appear quite warm.”
“I can’t imagine a big ol’ Jaffa warrior curled up in one of those.”
“Those are child-sized blankets, O’Neill.”
“Of course they are.”
“They will therefore be used by children,” concluded Teal’c. Jack seemed a bit disappointed in this.
While waiting for the elevator, Teal’c glanced down at one of the bags he held. It so happened that a Barbie blanket was on top, complete with Barbie on the package. “This doll is not correctly proportioned,” he observed. “Is this the toy Dr. Frasier found offensive?”
“The one and only,” affirmed Jack. Janet had felt strongly that the physically impossible body proportions of Barbie dolls were one among many unrealistic expectations set for young girls.
Daniel said, “I think the Target employees will be talking about this for a while.” He wouldn’t have minded being there to see how people reacted to Teal’c’s unusual purchase.
“One of the other customers took a picture with her cell phone. I believe she attempted subterfuge, but she was quite obvious.”
“You don’t see someone buying every blanket on the shelves everyday,” remarked Daniel. Jack frowned, no doubt considering the infinitesimally small chance that someone would bother tracking Teal’c’s purchases and start asking questions.
The arrival of the elevator cut off further conversation, as Teal’c and the remaining airmen got on it. Daniel and Jack resumed their walk to the security checkpoint to sign out.
“Just when you think you’ve seen it all,” said Jack, “T comes up with something new.”
Daniel knew perfectly well Jack was just using a common saying, but he couldn’t resist the chance to point out, “By now you should know better than to think you’ve seen it all.”
Jack couldn’t come up with a counter to that one.
*****
Sam hadn’t intended to buy furniture when she left her house that morning. She’d only gone out looking for a new skirt and possibly a blouse. There was a detour due to road construction which routed her past an antique store having a sidewalk sale. Normally Sam wasn’t particularly interested in antique stores, but she’d turned around to go back to this one because of what she saw.
It was an old hall tree almost exactly like the one her grandmother had owned. The only difference was that this one was a slightly darker color. Her grandmother used to put together little scavenger hunts, and there was usually something tucked in the hall tree. As soon as she spotted this hall tree, Sam had to have it.
Transportation was an issue, though. The hall tree was much too big for her Volvo and would fare even worse in Eddie’s Prius. Fortunately, Jack was available and willing to bring Sam’s new purchase home for her.
He parked next to her car and got out. “Daniel would’ve come, but he promised Cassandra he’d help her study for her Latin test.”
Cassie was better at science than languages, and she held herself to high standards. The combination had her nervous about her Latin grade, so Sam was happy that Daniel was able to help. Hopefully after he went over things with her, Cassie would calm down about the Latin test. She liked most of her pre-med courses, but not the Latin requirement.
“I’m glad. She’s worked herself up over it. And Eddie’s meeting us at the house, so we’ll be all set.”
Jack followed her over to the hall tree. “What is this?” he asked.
“A hall tree. My grandmother had one almost exactly like it.”
“Huh.” He didn’t seem particularly impressed, but then Sam hadn’t really expected him to be.
“You hang coats off it. Or hats or purses. And there’s storage here,” she explained, lifting the bench seat up to show him.
“Looks solid.”
The attendant cut off their conversation with, “Is this your friend with the truck?”
“That’s me,” answered Jack.
“Excellent. Ms. Carter has already paid, so we’re all set.”
It was weird to hear herself referred to as ‘Ms. Carter,’ and Sam decided she didn’t care for it.
“On three. One, two, three.” The attendant resolutely tried to ensure that Sam’s role in the lifting was nominal, but failed miserably because Jack wouldn’t cooperate. He had learned ten years ago that she wouldn’t stand for such a thing.
The hall tree was solid, built to last. Sam was very pleased with her purchase and happy about the detour that routed her past this antique shop. Even if she had spent significantly more money than she’d intended to spend that day.
It turned out that getting the hall tree over to Jack’s truck was the easy part. Jack wanted care taken around his truck. The attendant wanted care taken around the hall tree. Sam wanted to take care of both, because she didn’t want to damage her new hall tree but she knew how Jack could get about his truck. By the time the hall tree was securely in the back of Jack’s truck, strapped in, the attendant seemed glad to be rid of them.
“Enjoy your purchase,” he told her. “Remember us the next time you’re looking for antiques.”
“Thank you,” she said, not bothering to tell him that she never went looking for antiques.
“No respect for vehicles,” muttered Jack in the direction of the retreating figure. “Must not be old enough for him.”
Sam opted to ignore that. “Meet you at my place?”
“Yep. I don’t suppose you have any cheesecake lying around?” he asked hopefully.
“Sorry.”
“That’s a shame.”
She didn’t think he had any idea how much work went into making a really good cheesecake, and that wasn’t even getting into the calories. “I told you I’d show you how to make them. The offer’s still open.”
Jack made a slightly appalled face. “Meet you at your house,” he said, leaving aside cheesecake. He was great with a barbeque and an adequate cook if he kept things simple, but Jack’s idea of baking was thawing a frozen dessert and adding a scoop of ice cream.
Barely resisting the urge to remind him to drive carefully with her hall tree, Sam got in her own car and headed home. Her niece and nephew were too old for scavenger hunts. In fact her nephew had just turned 13, decided he was too old for Davy, and would now answer only to David. But Sam thought that someday, if Cassie had kids, she would set up scavenger hunts for them, and there would be something in the hall tree.
*****
Jack had planned their anniversary last year, so this year Daniel decided it was his turn. Of course, this time they were able to celebrate openly. They’d gone out for a nice dinner and come home for a sensual dessert experience that led to slow, languorous lovemaking. By the time they got around to exchanging gifts it was pretty late, but neither of them minded.
As Daniel went to get his gift, Jack reflected on how lucky he was. At first he hadn’t been sure that he had enough to offer Daniel, but it soon became clear that he’d worried over nothing. Daniel already knew him better than anyone else in the universe, and loved him flaws and all. And that, of course, worked both ways. They had a great life together, and Jack didn’t want to change a thing about it (except Daniel’s weak foot and those damn reading glasses he himself had to wear now).
Daniel came out holding an envelope. “Happy anniversary, Jack.”
On Our Anniversary, said the outside of the card, which featured a little pond that Jack wouldn’t have minded fishing in. He opened it, momentarily setting aside the papers that fell out. I want you to know that your love gives me strength, comfort, and more happiness than I have ever known. Every glance, every touch renews our love, and I am forever yours.
Below, Daniel had written, Love, with all of my heart, Daniel.
“I like that,” Jack announced. “How we keep renewing our love.”
Daniel smiled. “It’s true.”
The papers in the card turned out to be two tickets to a Colorado Rockies game. “I’m taking you on a weekend getaway,” explained Daniel. Jack checked the date - it was two weekends away.
“Sounds great.”
“Teal’c’s going to stay here and watch Zelda. Although I think he mainly wants the TV.” That wouldn’t surprise Jack. Teal’c loved their home theater system. “We’re going to relax and go to the game.”
It was an awesome gift. Jack didn’t get to see many baseball games live, and a weekend getaway with Daniel was always great. He kissed his lover before thanking him. “Thanks, cariad. I’m looking forward to it. Haven’t been to a baseball game in a while. These are great seats, too.”
Daniel smiled again, enjoying Jack’s obvious enthusiasm. After checking out who the Rockies would be playing, Jack reached for the gift he had for Daniel.
He had gotten a regular Hallmark anniversary card and then personalized it by adding Thanks for kissing me two years ago. Love you. Jack. When Daniel read that reference to the impetuous kiss that started their relationship, he smiled and said, “My pleasure.”
Once the card was set aside, Daniel set about unwrapping his gift. He opened the box and pulled out four archaeology books, one by one. “These are - Jack, how did you know?”
Jack grinned, pleased that Daniel liked the gifts. Sure, archaeology books weren’t a particularly romantic anniversary gift, but they were very Daniel.
“Your book catalogue,” he explained. “Those had a dot beside them.” When his lover gave him a quizzical look, Jack elaborated, “That means you put your pen down, ready to circle them to buy them, but decided you were already spending enough.” And no wonder; it turned out that archaeology books could cost a small fortune. Jack figured this was because so few people bought them, but on the other hand not many people would care enough to spend that much.
Daniel laughed and leaned in for a kiss. “You continue to astound me, cariad.”
“I try.” He picked up a manila envelope from beside the couch and handed it to his lover.
“What’s this?” asked Daniel. “Jack, the books were more than enough.”
“Just open it.” He was a little nervous, even though he knew there was no reason to be.
Daniel did, pulling out several sheets of paper. “Paperwork?” He started scanning the pages, clearly confused. “Wait a minute, this is about the house… Jack!”
“Yes?”
“You’re putting the house in my name too?”
“You just need to sign,” he explained.
“You didn’t have to do this.”
“It makes sense.” If anything happened to him, this would save Daniel hassle and taxes.
“Wow.” Daniel flipped through the pages incredulously. “Thank you, Jack. I know there are practical reasons, but to see both of our names listed there…”
“I know,” he said with a smile. “Cool, isn’t it?”
“Very.” Daniel looked at him, love written all over his face. “Jack… thank you.”
“Happy anniversary, Daniel,” he said, and then followed that with a kiss.
“Mmm.” Daniel moved his new books aside so they could lean together. “The happiest.”
Jack figured his life was so good, he couldn’t even complain that much about the reading glasses.
Continued: ent-alter-ego.livejournal.com/19706.html
“Someone had a good anniversary,” he said by way of greeting.
“That obvious?”
“Humming.”
“Ah.” She blushed a tiny bit, the deflected with, “It was great. And if I’m not mistaken, I’m not the only one with an anniversary coming up.”
“In a few weeks. Is the banana bread good?”
“Of course. I’ve got an experiment running…”
“See you later.”
She nodded and headed towards the elevator. Jack gave her five minutes, tops, before she started humming again. Good for her and Eddie.
He secured himself one of the thicker slices of banana bread. “It never fails,” remarked Airman Rains to the new guy, whose name escaped Jack. “Every time there’s banana bread, within ten minutes of Teal’c leaving, the rest of SG-1 comes in.”
Since he doubted that he was supposed to have heard that, Jack pretended he didn’t. SG-1 had a thing about banana bread. It had started on P4X-347 while they were weaning themselves off that addictive radiation from the damned light show. Daniel had mentioned wanting banana bread, and before they could go home all of them wanted banana bread. So one morning a few days after they got back Teal’c had let them know first thing that banana bread was available, and that had become a tradition.
In the nearest corner the members of SG-27 were debating the relative merit of Vegemite and Marmite. Jack once tried Marmite when he was in Britain, and he was far from a picky eater, but that was nasty stuff. He’d stick with the banana bread, thanks.
Daniel entered, reading a printout of some kind. Jack didn’t know anyone else who could walk and read as easily as his lover managed it.
“Jack, look at this!”
He found himself holding the printout and trying to make sense of it while Daniel grabbed banana bread. “What exactly am I looking at?”
“Possibly the next really important archaeological find,” said Daniel, as though that explained everything. The printout was clearly in some kind of code.
“This isn’t gonna be about big honkin’ guns, is it?”
Daniel didn’t even reply to that. “See this?” He was clearly excited, pointing to an area on the map with lots of lines close together.
“I see it. I don’t know what it means.”
“It’s the topographical survey from P2Z-048. The closer the lines, the higher the elevation.”
“Ah,” he said with a nod. If Daniel had mentioned that it was a topographical map earlier, he’d have gotten it. “It’s a high point.”
“Not just any high point. I think it’s a partially buried pyramid!”
Now he understood his boyfriend’s excitement. “You think it has more Goa’uld gadgets than ours.”
“It’s entirely possible. Of course, we’ll need to get the MALP footage first. Just think of what an abandoned pyramid could teach us, Jack.”
Offhand, Jack was having a bit of trouble coming up with anything special except new toys, but he knew better than to say that. Instead he remarked, “Let’s hope they didn’t clean house first.”
Daniel frowned slightly but continued, “Even then, the pyramid itself, along with art, can tell us a great deal.”
“Let me know when you get the footage,” he said, recognizing that Daniel was itching to get back to his office and his mental archaeology world.
“I will.”
“And Daniel?”
“Yes?”
“Remember to taste the banana bread.”
*****
It was three days before Daniel got the MALP footage he’d been waiting for, and he was surveying it, a little bit unhappy that he was forced to choose between two different and equally fascinating dig sites. Rationally, he understood that SGC had limited resources, but that didn't mean he'd have to like it. This was nothing personal - and certainly nothing he'd hold against Jack - but it still irked him.
He was strongly leaning towards the pyramid on P2Z-048. Or at least, he was 95% certain it was a pyramid. That was a dig he would personally join in, at least for part of it. The possible finds were tantalizing, but then on the other hand there was the site with hints that it had Scandinavian ties which could mean Asgard…
When the phone rang, he paused the footage but his mind was still half on the dilemma. "Hello?"
"Dr. Daniel Jackson?" asked an unfamiliar voice.
"Yes."
"Melbourne and Claire's son?"
That got his full attention. "Yes. And you are?"
"Dr. Fred Saunders. You're a hard man to track down. I had to talk to five Air Force representatives before they connected me. I knew your parents, and I recently found a photo of them. I've been going through things - cancer, not much time left, you know - and anyway, it occurred to me you might want this."
Daniel wished his parents had taken more family photos, but he had one of him at age six with both of his parents smiling over a coin he'd found. It hung on the wall in his study at home. He had precious little that had belonged to his parents, but he had a few things which were special to him: a treasured set of archaeological tools, some books, his paternal grandfather's pocketwatch, which his father had been fond of, and his mother's favorite necklace.
"I really would," he told Dr. Saunders.
"We were in the PhD program together," explained his parents' old acquaintance. "I was a year or two ahead of your parents. Anyway, we were on a dig near the Sudanese border in Egypt when your father proposed to your mother. I took this picture when they got back to the camp, both smiling ear-to-ear, and your mom was showing off her ring. We kept in touch until…” Saunders coughed. “Anyway, that dig must've been, let's see, '60 or so."
“I’d love to have it,” he said sincerely. “And I’m very sorry to hear about your cancer.”
“Ah, I’ve had a good run. Where should I send the picture?”
He gave his home address, and Dr. Saunders repeated it back to make sure he’d heard correctly. “Right then, I’ll get this out to you.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate all the trouble you went through to find me.”
“Oh, I know your parents would’ve done the same. Mind you, your mother probably would’ve done it a decade earlier - always on the ball, she was. What are you doing with the Air Force, anyway?”
“I’m a linguist,” he said, and left it at that for the sake of simplicity, as he often did.
“Makes sense. Your father liked to brag about your ear for languages before you were even three.”
Daniel smiled a little, remembering his father’s pride in his linguistic abilities. Meanwhile, after a cough, Dr. Saunders continued, “I hope you’re happy, son. When your dad went on too long about how you were going to be a genius, your mom always interrupted him and said the most important thing was for you to be happy. It’s the kind of thing a man thinks about at the end.” The older man said this last sentence matter-of-factly, in a way that didn’t ask for pity.
“I am,” replied Daniel honestly. He had a wonderful man who adored him, a fulfilling job, and great friends. Not to mention cheating death more times than he could keep track of. “I truly am.”
“Glad to hear it. Oh, there’s the doorbell, should be my daughter.”
“Thank you, again.”
“My pleasure. Take care.”
“You too,” he said. When he hung up, he spared a moment to consider his own past before getting back to the more distant past.
*****
Daniel had been checking the mail anxiously for several days and was finally rewarded with an envelope from one Dr. F. Saunders. Jack looked at the picture over Daniel’s shoulder. He recognized the couple from the picture in Daniel’s study, though obviously his lover’s parents were younger in this photo.
It was a small black-and-white, still crisp and unfaded. Both of Daniel’s parents had wide smiles; Melbourne’s arm was around Claire’s waist and she was holding her hand out, showing her ring off to the camera. There was a river in the background which Jack guessed had to be the Nile.
“Nice,” he commented.
Daniel nodded. “They look so happy.”
While his lover read the accompanying letter, Jack figured he’d get going on the important matter of food. A quick scan of the fridge revealed that it was time to go grocery shopping. He found a box of chicken cordon bleu in the freezer along with a bag of green beans. Frozen food was a wonderful thing.
He didn’t need to check the box to know the oven temperature, as this particular brand of stuffed chicken breasts was one of Daniel’s favorites. The oven was preheating and he’d sorted through the rest of the mail by the time Daniel finished reading his letter.
He recognized the look on Daniel’s face as contemplative in just the way that meant not to interrupt him by asking questions. So instead Jack pulled out a chair; before he’d even sat down Zelda was at his feet, ready for attention.
“You’re spoiled,” he told the dog as he proceeded to rub her stomach. Both he and Daniel were responsible for that - though at last Jack had gotten his boyfriend to give smaller pieces of cheese for the sake of Zelda’s health.
He petted the dog for several minutes before Daniel announced, “This is different. To read about my parents like this.”
“Like how?”
“Adults,” replied Daniel automatically.
Ah. That made sense. Most people transitioned into that, seeing their parents not just as mom and dad. Daniel never had - his parents had only ever been parents and archaeologists to him. “Good different or bad different?” asked Jack carefully.
“Good.”
Daniel wasn’t really in a sharing mood yet, which was his prerogative. Jack, reassured that his lover was thinking and not brooding, put the chicken in the oven and decided it was as good a time as any to load the dishwasher. Zelda disagreed, and was not amused that Daniel was too busy thinking to pick up the petting where Jack had left off.
He’d filled up the top rack and was just moving on to the bottom when Daniel spoke. “He said my mother always wanted me to be happy.”
Jack didn’t have a clue where this was going, so he settled on supportive silence.
“I always - all this time I wondered what they would think of my work.”
Now the penny dropped for Jack. “You’re more than the sum of your finds, Daniel.”
“I know that.” He damn well better, or Jack would’ve failed miserably, even before they got together as lovers. Fortunately, Daniel was a lousy liar and it was obvious he was telling the truth. “I just never really thought about it in context of what my parents wanted for me, somehow. I think… I think I got caught up in carrying on their work.”
Jack had given up on not thinking ill of the dead a long time ago, which was a good thing since he was mentally cursing Nick Ballard. Again. “Parents want their kids to be happy,” he said with conviction.
Happy, and alive… but this was about Daniel’s ghosts, not his.
“It’s a good life.” Daniel smiled.
“Yeah,” agreed Jack whole-heartedly.
“And that special on the Vikings in North America is on tonight.”
Not the kind of connection most people would make, but then Daniel wasn’t most people by any means. He mostly watched specials because he couldn’t find enough hours in a day to read all the books and articles he wanted. Jack wondered if the clouds would hold off long enough that he could stargaze while Daniel’s special was on.
“Which you promised to watch with me.”
He groaned. “Not fair, tricking me into that.”
“I didn’t trick you.”
“Yes you did.”
“How?” challenged Daniel, an all-too-knowing glint in his eyes.
He knew just what he’d done: mention it when Jack was still enjoying his post-orgasmic bliss and prone to saying dumb things like, “Sure, I can spare an hour for Vikings.”
Though, all things considered, Vikings were not as bad as a lot of the specials Daniel liked. Still, Jack insisted, “You can’t just start talking about these things after mind-blowing sex and expect-”
He never got to finish, because Daniel cut in with, “Please. Your mind had nothing to do with what I was blowing.”
Jack couldn’t come up with a suitable response (he did so love it when Daniel started talking dirty), so all he could do was resign himself to the special and hope it would be followed by a repeat of the other activities.
*****
Paul Davis was having a highly productive day, having thrown himself into his work with even more vigor than usual. He reasoned that if his personal life wasn’t going well, at least his professional life could. And sure, it wasn’t the end of the world, but halfway through what had seemed like a promising third date it had come to light that his date actually had a wife. Paul hadn’t stayed around to listen to the philandering man’s excuses. He had no respect for cheaters.
Work, on the other hand, went smoothly. He was sitting at his desk going over minutes from the last IOC meeting when General O’Neill came in through the half-open door. “General,” said Paul, pushing back his chair to stand.
“At ease, Davis.”
He stood at ease. “What can I do for you, sir?”
“I heard you’re running to raise money for wounded vets.”
“Yes sir, next Saturday.” He enjoyed running, and was only too happy to help his fellow service members. “We’re raising money for a new, disabled-friendly rec center over at Peterson.” There was even talk of wheelchair-height pool tables.
The general nodded. “Great. Put me down for a hundred and fifty, will you? I’ll bring it in Monday.”
“Thank you, sir. That’s generous of you.”
“It’s a good cause.”
“That it is.” Just then, Paul remembered Dr. Jackson’s injury. It was hardly noticeable most of the time, although in the gym the archaeologist always took the elliptical instead of the treadmill, because he said it was better if his feet stayed put. That was all thanks to the Asgard, of course. Most of the military didn’t get that kind of help.
O’Neill glanced at the papers. Paul had learned that this was a subtle inquiry. He’d been a bit confused by the general’s periodic visits - O’Neill had never struck him as a micromanager - until Colonel Fisk explained that the general liked to go on rounds to see what was going on. So he answered the silent question, “IOC minutes.”
“The Russians still being reasonable?”
“Yes sir.” The Russian government had settled into a fairly routine position. They were naturally interested in more influence at SGC, but they seemed to trust O’Neill, they were happy with the Russian team, and most of all they were content to let the U.S. foot the bill. The Chinese delegate was actually more of a pain in the ass, though all talk and no action.
“Good.”
“Always, sir.”
“Have a nice weekend, Davis.”
“You too, sir.”
After the Pentagon, it was truly refreshing to have a CO as relatable and genuine as Jack O’Neill.
*****
It was a nice spring Saturday, so Jack and Teal’c could hardly wait to get out the paintball guns and go off to use them. Daniel didn’t especially see the appeal, but he did have to admit that he’d rather play paintball than do his taxes. Unfortunately, he’d put off taxes so long that he didn’t have much longer to get them finished. Jack, of course, had submitted his a month earlier. That alone made Daniel wish they could submit a joint return.
He didn’t even have Zelda’s company. There were squirrels in the back yard, and she’d evidently decided it was her mission for the day to make their lives as miserable as possible. Fortunately she didn’t bark too often, only when a squirrel got cheeky and thought it would get near the house or her doghouse. Thus occupied, she had no interested in coming inside. Daniel couldn’t blame her when the most exciting thing he had to tempt her with was tax preparation.
At last, he was almost done. He’d just need to check his math again before declaring his taxes finished and submitting them. First things first, though. It was time for a coffee break.
He looked out the back window to check on Zelda while his coffee brewed. She was sitting on guard lest the squirrels get any ideas about leaving the tree she’d chased them up. Jack had set up the run so she could get to the tree for extra shade, if she didn’t want to be in her doghouse. Evidently this was also useful for trapping squirrels.
There were a couple handfuls of grapes left, so he pulled them out of the fridge and ate them as the delicious scent of quality coffee filled the kitchen. It had taken some time to get used to being able to buy such perishable fruit. Fresh produce had a tendency to spoil with alarming frequency when he was on SG-1, but now more often than not he and Jack got to their fruits and vegetables in time.
He’d also converted Jack to the good coffee, and Daniel didn’t believe it for a minute when Jack muttered something about two brands not making sense because they had so many containers of grounds and beans taking up space.
The latest Journal of Linguistics had arrived two days ago but he hadn’t gotten to it yet. He read through the table of contents and, once his coffee was ready, settled in to read the most promising article.
The coffee was gone and he’d almost finished the article when he heard Jack’s key in the lock. He put the journal down and went to see how much damage Teal’c had managed this time. Jack’s paintball clothes had a few new orange splotches. Teal’c had clearly gotten in good hits. “I got him too,” Jack said. That was not at all hard to believe. Both Jack and Teal’c took paintball fairly seriously. Daniel had his suspicions that their intensity frightened more casual players.
He didn’t know how his partner had managed to get paint specks in his hair, and then there was the mud. It looked like Jack had decided to use some dirt as camouflage, and only wiped about half of it off. He was a mess.
“I’m going to shower,” announced Jack.
Finishing the article and double-checking his tax form could wait, Daniel decided, because the shower presented intriguing possibilities. “I’ll help.”
“Help?” asked Jack with an anticipatory grin. He nobly did his utmost to be supportive of Daniel’s periodic desire for shower sex.
“We can’t have you missing a spot,” he answered solemnly, though he was pretty sure his face would give away his less-than-solemn mood.
“I did get a little stiff waiting in ambush.”
Daniel failed to remain serious and let out a chuckle. “Come on, Jack.”
His partner was only too eager to follow him to the shower.
*****
George was already enjoying his retirement. He had found a comfortable little house not far from his daughter’s place. Speaking of his daughter, Allie was happier than she’d been in years. She’d been shattered when her husband left, but had finally moved on and was dating a wonderful man who adored her and the girls. George expected an engagement any day now. Kayla was very quickly turning into a young woman and Tessa wasn’t far behind.
Yes, it was good to relax and enjoy what he considered a well-earned retirement. He bought himself a new set of golf clubs for a retirement present and they’d already seen more use than his old set had in a decade.
SG-1 had insisted on a little dinner in his honor at Jack and Daniel’s house. Jack, as usual, had grilled some great steaks. George would’ve bet money that Daniel had put together the shish kabobs, because Jack had never been one for such exotic vegetables. They were good, though George thought grilling bamboo shoots was a bit unusual. Teal’c (who was apparently banned from using the grill) had brought chips and dip, and Colonel Carter had been talked into making a cheesecake. George suspected Jack requested cheesecakes as often as he thought he could get away with it.
“This is great, Sam,” said Daniel.
George had to agree. She’d made a fine mocha cheesecake. “Delicious.”
“As always,” noted Jack between bites.
“This is a most enjoyable talent,” added Teal’c.
“Thanks,” said Carter. “The only downside to this talent is the number of cheesecake requests I keep getting.” This she said with a look Jack’s way, but he pretended not to notice.
Jack and Daniel had grown used to acting like the couple they were, with little touches and looks. They had also gotten both rings and a dog since George’s last visit. According to Daniel, their next door neighbors were able to take care of the black lab if needed. Zelda was a pleasure. George hadn’t owned a dog in some years, and resolved to consider the idea.
This dinner was the kind of thing George had sorely missed the last three years. Washington wasn’t a good place to make friends. He’d only had one real friend, Admiral Craig Powers, but Craig had retired the previous year and was happily spending his days fishing off the coast of Florida.
So this kind of relaxed evening was just what he’d hoped. Certainly there had been a retirement celebration for him in D.C., but it was not the same. Here with SG-1 there were no overtones of favor-currying and political jockeying. It was a simple, pleasant evening with people who cared about his happiness. George found it refreshing.
Now he was trying to transition to a first-name basis. He and Jack had, at some length, gotten there already. Teal’c didn’t really do first names, for reasons George had never understood. Anyway, he wasn’t too worried about it. Carter - Sam - had at least stopped saying ‘sir’ halfway through dinner. George didn’t want to hear ‘sir’ anymore.
There had been some excitement that afternoon at SGC, and he was intently listening to the story. Evidently SG-2 had come back early because of an earthquake. Or a P2Y-420-quake, as Jack had noted.
“We were just waiting for Warren when a rabbit came through the gate,” explained Jack. “Only it was smaller and faster than our rabbits.”
“Eddie named it Energizer,” said Sam. George caught Daniel rolling his eyes at that.
“Right,” continued Jack. “So the SFs were swinging their weapons around all over the place, trying to keep this thing targeted. Meanwhile Larson was telling them not to shoot, that it’s a perfectly harmless herbivore. By the time Warren came through the rest of his team was chasing this rabbit around the gate room, but the SFs were still targeting it, so Warren wasn’t too happy that all the SFs had his team in their sights.”
He had to chuckle at the image. This was the sort of amusing, harmless thing that never happened at the Pentagon. But Jack wasn’t done.
“Suddenly this thing stopped on the ramp and lay down. Next thing I know, Larson’s telling me it’s having babies.”
“Eddie Hallowell was most delighted,” noted Teal’c.
Daniel mused, “I’ve never seen SFs look so out of place.”
“Hallowell and Lee turned the gate room into a vet clinic,” complained Jack, but everyone knew he was highly amused like the rest of them.
George smiled and took another bite of his cheesecake. He was going to enjoy retirement even more if he still got to hear stories from SGC.
*****
Daniel was running a couple minutes late to meet Jack and go home, but that wasn’t particularly unusual. What was unusual, however, was the sight that met him when the elevator doors opened: Teal’c leading a small parade of airmen laden with Target bags.
“Um, Teal’c?”
“Rya’c tells me it is likely to be a very cold winter,” reported Teal’c.
“I think he bought every blanket in Target,” muttered one of the airmen.
The scene began to made sense. It was just turning to winter for Teal’c’s family, and the Free Jaffa did not have a lot of resources. Teal’c was committed to helping where he could, above and beyond what SGC gave. He sent all manner of things: goats, seed potatoes, and now blankets. These were things the Jaffa had never needed to worry about under the Goa’uld.
“I did not,” corrected Teal’c. “An employee began to restock immediately.”
The airman, who obviously had forgotten about Teal’c’s great hearing, just got on the elevator. Daniel sort of wished he’d been there to witness Teal’c buying every blanket Target had on the shelves.
Jack meandered into view; from his expression it was clear he’d been watching the blanket parade with amusement. “You got pink Barbie blankets?”
“They appear quite warm.”
“I can’t imagine a big ol’ Jaffa warrior curled up in one of those.”
“Those are child-sized blankets, O’Neill.”
“Of course they are.”
“They will therefore be used by children,” concluded Teal’c. Jack seemed a bit disappointed in this.
While waiting for the elevator, Teal’c glanced down at one of the bags he held. It so happened that a Barbie blanket was on top, complete with Barbie on the package. “This doll is not correctly proportioned,” he observed. “Is this the toy Dr. Frasier found offensive?”
“The one and only,” affirmed Jack. Janet had felt strongly that the physically impossible body proportions of Barbie dolls were one among many unrealistic expectations set for young girls.
Daniel said, “I think the Target employees will be talking about this for a while.” He wouldn’t have minded being there to see how people reacted to Teal’c’s unusual purchase.
“One of the other customers took a picture with her cell phone. I believe she attempted subterfuge, but she was quite obvious.”
“You don’t see someone buying every blanket on the shelves everyday,” remarked Daniel. Jack frowned, no doubt considering the infinitesimally small chance that someone would bother tracking Teal’c’s purchases and start asking questions.
The arrival of the elevator cut off further conversation, as Teal’c and the remaining airmen got on it. Daniel and Jack resumed their walk to the security checkpoint to sign out.
“Just when you think you’ve seen it all,” said Jack, “T comes up with something new.”
Daniel knew perfectly well Jack was just using a common saying, but he couldn’t resist the chance to point out, “By now you should know better than to think you’ve seen it all.”
Jack couldn’t come up with a counter to that one.
*****
Sam hadn’t intended to buy furniture when she left her house that morning. She’d only gone out looking for a new skirt and possibly a blouse. There was a detour due to road construction which routed her past an antique store having a sidewalk sale. Normally Sam wasn’t particularly interested in antique stores, but she’d turned around to go back to this one because of what she saw.
It was an old hall tree almost exactly like the one her grandmother had owned. The only difference was that this one was a slightly darker color. Her grandmother used to put together little scavenger hunts, and there was usually something tucked in the hall tree. As soon as she spotted this hall tree, Sam had to have it.
Transportation was an issue, though. The hall tree was much too big for her Volvo and would fare even worse in Eddie’s Prius. Fortunately, Jack was available and willing to bring Sam’s new purchase home for her.
He parked next to her car and got out. “Daniel would’ve come, but he promised Cassandra he’d help her study for her Latin test.”
Cassie was better at science than languages, and she held herself to high standards. The combination had her nervous about her Latin grade, so Sam was happy that Daniel was able to help. Hopefully after he went over things with her, Cassie would calm down about the Latin test. She liked most of her pre-med courses, but not the Latin requirement.
“I’m glad. She’s worked herself up over it. And Eddie’s meeting us at the house, so we’ll be all set.”
Jack followed her over to the hall tree. “What is this?” he asked.
“A hall tree. My grandmother had one almost exactly like it.”
“Huh.” He didn’t seem particularly impressed, but then Sam hadn’t really expected him to be.
“You hang coats off it. Or hats or purses. And there’s storage here,” she explained, lifting the bench seat up to show him.
“Looks solid.”
The attendant cut off their conversation with, “Is this your friend with the truck?”
“That’s me,” answered Jack.
“Excellent. Ms. Carter has already paid, so we’re all set.”
It was weird to hear herself referred to as ‘Ms. Carter,’ and Sam decided she didn’t care for it.
“On three. One, two, three.” The attendant resolutely tried to ensure that Sam’s role in the lifting was nominal, but failed miserably because Jack wouldn’t cooperate. He had learned ten years ago that she wouldn’t stand for such a thing.
The hall tree was solid, built to last. Sam was very pleased with her purchase and happy about the detour that routed her past this antique shop. Even if she had spent significantly more money than she’d intended to spend that day.
It turned out that getting the hall tree over to Jack’s truck was the easy part. Jack wanted care taken around his truck. The attendant wanted care taken around the hall tree. Sam wanted to take care of both, because she didn’t want to damage her new hall tree but she knew how Jack could get about his truck. By the time the hall tree was securely in the back of Jack’s truck, strapped in, the attendant seemed glad to be rid of them.
“Enjoy your purchase,” he told her. “Remember us the next time you’re looking for antiques.”
“Thank you,” she said, not bothering to tell him that she never went looking for antiques.
“No respect for vehicles,” muttered Jack in the direction of the retreating figure. “Must not be old enough for him.”
Sam opted to ignore that. “Meet you at my place?”
“Yep. I don’t suppose you have any cheesecake lying around?” he asked hopefully.
“Sorry.”
“That’s a shame.”
She didn’t think he had any idea how much work went into making a really good cheesecake, and that wasn’t even getting into the calories. “I told you I’d show you how to make them. The offer’s still open.”
Jack made a slightly appalled face. “Meet you at your house,” he said, leaving aside cheesecake. He was great with a barbeque and an adequate cook if he kept things simple, but Jack’s idea of baking was thawing a frozen dessert and adding a scoop of ice cream.
Barely resisting the urge to remind him to drive carefully with her hall tree, Sam got in her own car and headed home. Her niece and nephew were too old for scavenger hunts. In fact her nephew had just turned 13, decided he was too old for Davy, and would now answer only to David. But Sam thought that someday, if Cassie had kids, she would set up scavenger hunts for them, and there would be something in the hall tree.
*****
Jack had planned their anniversary last year, so this year Daniel decided it was his turn. Of course, this time they were able to celebrate openly. They’d gone out for a nice dinner and come home for a sensual dessert experience that led to slow, languorous lovemaking. By the time they got around to exchanging gifts it was pretty late, but neither of them minded.
As Daniel went to get his gift, Jack reflected on how lucky he was. At first he hadn’t been sure that he had enough to offer Daniel, but it soon became clear that he’d worried over nothing. Daniel already knew him better than anyone else in the universe, and loved him flaws and all. And that, of course, worked both ways. They had a great life together, and Jack didn’t want to change a thing about it (except Daniel’s weak foot and those damn reading glasses he himself had to wear now).
Daniel came out holding an envelope. “Happy anniversary, Jack.”
On Our Anniversary, said the outside of the card, which featured a little pond that Jack wouldn’t have minded fishing in. He opened it, momentarily setting aside the papers that fell out. I want you to know that your love gives me strength, comfort, and more happiness than I have ever known. Every glance, every touch renews our love, and I am forever yours.
Below, Daniel had written, Love, with all of my heart, Daniel.
“I like that,” Jack announced. “How we keep renewing our love.”
Daniel smiled. “It’s true.”
The papers in the card turned out to be two tickets to a Colorado Rockies game. “I’m taking you on a weekend getaway,” explained Daniel. Jack checked the date - it was two weekends away.
“Sounds great.”
“Teal’c’s going to stay here and watch Zelda. Although I think he mainly wants the TV.” That wouldn’t surprise Jack. Teal’c loved their home theater system. “We’re going to relax and go to the game.”
It was an awesome gift. Jack didn’t get to see many baseball games live, and a weekend getaway with Daniel was always great. He kissed his lover before thanking him. “Thanks, cariad. I’m looking forward to it. Haven’t been to a baseball game in a while. These are great seats, too.”
Daniel smiled again, enjoying Jack’s obvious enthusiasm. After checking out who the Rockies would be playing, Jack reached for the gift he had for Daniel.
He had gotten a regular Hallmark anniversary card and then personalized it by adding Thanks for kissing me two years ago. Love you. Jack. When Daniel read that reference to the impetuous kiss that started their relationship, he smiled and said, “My pleasure.”
Once the card was set aside, Daniel set about unwrapping his gift. He opened the box and pulled out four archaeology books, one by one. “These are - Jack, how did you know?”
Jack grinned, pleased that Daniel liked the gifts. Sure, archaeology books weren’t a particularly romantic anniversary gift, but they were very Daniel.
“Your book catalogue,” he explained. “Those had a dot beside them.” When his lover gave him a quizzical look, Jack elaborated, “That means you put your pen down, ready to circle them to buy them, but decided you were already spending enough.” And no wonder; it turned out that archaeology books could cost a small fortune. Jack figured this was because so few people bought them, but on the other hand not many people would care enough to spend that much.
Daniel laughed and leaned in for a kiss. “You continue to astound me, cariad.”
“I try.” He picked up a manila envelope from beside the couch and handed it to his lover.
“What’s this?” asked Daniel. “Jack, the books were more than enough.”
“Just open it.” He was a little nervous, even though he knew there was no reason to be.
Daniel did, pulling out several sheets of paper. “Paperwork?” He started scanning the pages, clearly confused. “Wait a minute, this is about the house… Jack!”
“Yes?”
“You’re putting the house in my name too?”
“You just need to sign,” he explained.
“You didn’t have to do this.”
“It makes sense.” If anything happened to him, this would save Daniel hassle and taxes.
“Wow.” Daniel flipped through the pages incredulously. “Thank you, Jack. I know there are practical reasons, but to see both of our names listed there…”
“I know,” he said with a smile. “Cool, isn’t it?”
“Very.” Daniel looked at him, love written all over his face. “Jack… thank you.”
“Happy anniversary, Daniel,” he said, and then followed that with a kiss.
“Mmm.” Daniel moved his new books aside so they could lean together. “The happiest.”
Jack figured his life was so good, he couldn’t even complain that much about the reading glasses.
Continued: ent-alter-ego.livejournal.com/19706.html