A Little Spice
I was rummaging through some old files on my computer and came across this. I wrote it a long time ago for a list. I've brushed it off to post here. Feedback always makes me smile. ~Enjoy!
Title: A Little Spice
Author: Gategremlyn
Pairing: Jack/Daniel
Rating: PG
Category: A little angst, a little humor, a little comfort.
Jack reached down, opened the door of the car, and then stuffed his hands into his pockets, deep inside his pockets. Otherwise he was going to help Daniel out of the car and probably get decked for his trouble. He watched nervously as Daniel slowly unwound himself from the seat and stood on shaky legs, holding on to the top of the door for support.
Jack took his hands out of his pockets. If Daniel did fall-and it seemed an inevitability from the look on the pale face-Jack wanted to be able to catch him. He watched as Daniel straightened slowly and pulled one hand from the door. Jack moved his hands out in front of him, careful not to reach out or touch, but in a position of readiness for the collapse he could see coming. Daniel's face was so white, the color drained even to the tightly pursed lips, that Jack was surprised to see him upright at all.
Daniel took a deep breath, released his death grip on the door and shuffled forward, Jack a half a step behind. “Don't,” he said as Jack reached out to take his arm.
“I wasn't.” Jack pulled his hand back a couple of inches.
“You were,” Daniel said.
“Fine, I was. So what? You're...injured...and I want to make sure you at least make it to your own front door.” Injured didn't even begin to describe it: pulled muscles, a cracked rib, half a dozen stitches in his arm, and enough bumps and bruises to cover most of Daniel's torso, all a souvenir of an alien time-bomb. They were lucky the explosion that had flung them across the room and into a wall hadn't brought the whole temple down on top of all of them. Not surprisingly, Daniel had borne the brunt of the blast, but no one had walked away unscathed. Carter was recuperating at home with broken arm and Jack was nursing a sore knee. Even Teal'c had needed a couple of stitches for a slice in his leg.
Daniel, who in typical Daniel fashion, felt guilty over touching the trigger mechanism, hadn't talked to anyone beyond the pleasantries of any hospital visit. Pleasantries wasn't the right word. Daniel had been short, surly, and downright uncooperative with anyone who had attempted to dig beyond the “fine” that was always Daniel's answer to any question regarding his condition. He'd snapped at everyone: the doctors, the nurses, Sam, Teal'c-and Jack.
“I don't need your help,” Daniel insisted, despite the fact that every step was plainly agony for him.
“Yeah, I can see that,” Jack muttered.
Annoyed by the answer, Daniel actually managed to turn around and glare at the man hovering behind him.
“I can see that you don't need my help,” Jack stuttered. “Obviously you have the situation under complete control.”
Daniel turned back in the direction of the door and started his slow shuffle again. “I'm glad you acknowledge that fact. Now...if you want to be useful, why don't you open the door.”
“Open the door. I can do that.” Jack moved away, hesitant to leave in case the man took a fall into the driveway. He calculated the distance, figuring he could get the door open and get back before Daniel had taken more than three or four steps. He moved as quickly as he could, fumbled with the key for endless seconds before the door opened, and then returned to his position behind Daniel.
“Jack?”
“What?” Jack said, feigning innocence. “I'm just watching your six.”
“Would you mind watching it from somewhere else?”
“Not unless you're planning on some kind of reconstructive surgery that will move around a couple of fundamental parts of your anatomy. Otherwise, watching your six has to happen from back here.”
Daniel snorted, the first remotely pleasant sound Jack had heard from Daniel since his incarceration in the infirmary three days ago. Janet's release of her prisoner had only been negotiated after Jack had volunteered to take custody--and signed paperwork to that effect in triplicate. He relaxed a little hearing Daniel's laugh, but his reflexes were still fast enough to catch him as he stumbled.
“You're fine, huh?”
Daniel fisted the lapel of Jack's jacket as he hung on through a spasm of pain that Jack could see. He leaned his face into Jack's shoulder and muttered something.
Jack tightened his hold from a steadying hand to an arm around the shoulder. “I hope you're saying that you'll never touch something you're not supposed to ever again.” He bent his head forward to catch the words.
“I said, 'You left the food in the car.'”
“Oh, I left the food in the car.” Food purchased, despite Daniel's whining, so that Jack would have an excuse to stay when he dropped Daniel off at his apartment. Even with paperwork in triplicate, he knew Daniel would try to get rid of him the moment they crossed the threshold. If they had food, then Jack had to stay and eat it. He tightened his grip. “And if I let go of you to get the food, then what? I don't think I can pull you up off the ground with one hand while I hold on to a container of wonton soup with the other.”
“I promise not to fall down while you go get the soup. And the chicken. I really feel like some spicy chicken. You ordered that, right?” Daniel didn't release his hold but he pulled himself up to face Jack.
“Spicy chicken, eh?” Jack searched the pale face in front of him. “How about I get you inside on the couch and then I'll get you some soup. We'll worry about the 'spicy' stuff after you're feeling better.”
“Chicken, Jack,” Daniel huffed. “I said I was in the mood for spicy chicken.”
“I'm chicken,” Jack said. “Why do you think I didn't spring you from the infirmary sooner than I did? Frasier scares the
shit out of me. I'm chicken right down to the bottom of my air force issue boots.” He wrapped his arms around Daniel and pulled him close. For the first time since the accident, Daniel was allowing him in, and Jack wasn't about to waste the opportunity. “So you're really in the mood for spicy chicken?”
Daniel put his head down again on Jack's shoulder, letting out a another little laugh. After a few minutes, Jack glance at the door, wondering if he could carry Daniel the last few feet since it didn't look like they were going to be moving anytime soon. Not that it was a complaint, really. He hadn't had a chance to hold Daniel since the accident, but inside would be better.
“I should have seen the trigger mechanism,” Daniel said.
Jack strained to hear the soft voice. “How should you have seen it? It was a trap, plain and simple.”
“I know.” The voice was barely a sigh.
Jack tightened his hold. “So like I keep telling you, next time don't touch stuff you're not supposed to.”
Daniel lifted his head. “That's the point, Jack. I am supposed to touch stuff. Contrary to what you might think, that's my job. This time I did my job and people got hurt. Sam and Teal'c...and you...got hurt.”
Now it was Jack's turn to sigh. “I know.” He held the body close against him, reveling in the feel of Daniel's breath against his neck, a tickling warmth missed the three days Daniel had spent in the infirmary, and almost missed forever. “But you just proved my point. This wasn't your fault. It was a well laid booby trap.”
“I know, I know.” Daniel nodded.
“Let it go, Daniel. Everybody's going to be fine. Including you and me.”
Daniel ran his fingers over the collar of Jack's shirt. “So.”
“So.” Jack repeated.
“So I think I feel like a little spicy chicken before I have some spicy chicken.” Had the face been less tired, Jack might have seen a leer. As it was Daniel smiled a crooked smile and pushed himself away from the arms encircling him. “You go get the food. I'll stand right here in this spot until you get back. Then you can help me through the door.”
“Don't move.” Jack ordered. He hobbled back to the car and grabbed the bag of Chinese from the front seat. He came back and put his shoulder gently under Daniel's arm to guide him into the house.
“So now I have permission to watch your six?” Jack asked.
“I thought you said it wasn't anatomically possible except from behind.”
“Right. So I'll put you to bed...and then I can watch your six.” He made it a question.
“I thought we were eating first.”
“We could eat in bed,” Jack suggested. “Wonton soup and crackers.”
“Spicy chicken?” Daniel asked hopefully.
“Only if you don't tell Fraiser.”
Jack felt the fingers in his back as Daniel held on to his shirt. The trip from the infirmary home had drained the last of Daniel's energy. He knew he'd be lucky to get Daniel to eat a little soup and take one of Janet's pills before he was done for the night. An hour from now, his guilt put away, Daniel would sleep a healing sleep with Jack watching over him. There'd would be no spicy chicken tonight. That was okay. It would keep.
~finis
Title: A Little Spice
Author: Gategremlyn
Pairing: Jack/Daniel
Rating: PG
Category: A little angst, a little humor, a little comfort.
Jack reached down, opened the door of the car, and then stuffed his hands into his pockets, deep inside his pockets. Otherwise he was going to help Daniel out of the car and probably get decked for his trouble. He watched nervously as Daniel slowly unwound himself from the seat and stood on shaky legs, holding on to the top of the door for support.
Jack took his hands out of his pockets. If Daniel did fall-and it seemed an inevitability from the look on the pale face-Jack wanted to be able to catch him. He watched as Daniel straightened slowly and pulled one hand from the door. Jack moved his hands out in front of him, careful not to reach out or touch, but in a position of readiness for the collapse he could see coming. Daniel's face was so white, the color drained even to the tightly pursed lips, that Jack was surprised to see him upright at all.
Daniel took a deep breath, released his death grip on the door and shuffled forward, Jack a half a step behind. “Don't,” he said as Jack reached out to take his arm.
“I wasn't.” Jack pulled his hand back a couple of inches.
“You were,” Daniel said.
“Fine, I was. So what? You're...injured...and I want to make sure you at least make it to your own front door.” Injured didn't even begin to describe it: pulled muscles, a cracked rib, half a dozen stitches in his arm, and enough bumps and bruises to cover most of Daniel's torso, all a souvenir of an alien time-bomb. They were lucky the explosion that had flung them across the room and into a wall hadn't brought the whole temple down on top of all of them. Not surprisingly, Daniel had borne the brunt of the blast, but no one had walked away unscathed. Carter was recuperating at home with broken arm and Jack was nursing a sore knee. Even Teal'c had needed a couple of stitches for a slice in his leg.
Daniel, who in typical Daniel fashion, felt guilty over touching the trigger mechanism, hadn't talked to anyone beyond the pleasantries of any hospital visit. Pleasantries wasn't the right word. Daniel had been short, surly, and downright uncooperative with anyone who had attempted to dig beyond the “fine” that was always Daniel's answer to any question regarding his condition. He'd snapped at everyone: the doctors, the nurses, Sam, Teal'c-and Jack.
“I don't need your help,” Daniel insisted, despite the fact that every step was plainly agony for him.
“Yeah, I can see that,” Jack muttered.
Annoyed by the answer, Daniel actually managed to turn around and glare at the man hovering behind him.
“I can see that you don't need my help,” Jack stuttered. “Obviously you have the situation under complete control.”
Daniel turned back in the direction of the door and started his slow shuffle again. “I'm glad you acknowledge that fact. Now...if you want to be useful, why don't you open the door.”
“Open the door. I can do that.” Jack moved away, hesitant to leave in case the man took a fall into the driveway. He calculated the distance, figuring he could get the door open and get back before Daniel had taken more than three or four steps. He moved as quickly as he could, fumbled with the key for endless seconds before the door opened, and then returned to his position behind Daniel.
“Jack?”
“What?” Jack said, feigning innocence. “I'm just watching your six.”
“Would you mind watching it from somewhere else?”
“Not unless you're planning on some kind of reconstructive surgery that will move around a couple of fundamental parts of your anatomy. Otherwise, watching your six has to happen from back here.”
Daniel snorted, the first remotely pleasant sound Jack had heard from Daniel since his incarceration in the infirmary three days ago. Janet's release of her prisoner had only been negotiated after Jack had volunteered to take custody--and signed paperwork to that effect in triplicate. He relaxed a little hearing Daniel's laugh, but his reflexes were still fast enough to catch him as he stumbled.
“You're fine, huh?”
Daniel fisted the lapel of Jack's jacket as he hung on through a spasm of pain that Jack could see. He leaned his face into Jack's shoulder and muttered something.
Jack tightened his hold from a steadying hand to an arm around the shoulder. “I hope you're saying that you'll never touch something you're not supposed to ever again.” He bent his head forward to catch the words.
“I said, 'You left the food in the car.'”
“Oh, I left the food in the car.” Food purchased, despite Daniel's whining, so that Jack would have an excuse to stay when he dropped Daniel off at his apartment. Even with paperwork in triplicate, he knew Daniel would try to get rid of him the moment they crossed the threshold. If they had food, then Jack had to stay and eat it. He tightened his grip. “And if I let go of you to get the food, then what? I don't think I can pull you up off the ground with one hand while I hold on to a container of wonton soup with the other.”
“I promise not to fall down while you go get the soup. And the chicken. I really feel like some spicy chicken. You ordered that, right?” Daniel didn't release his hold but he pulled himself up to face Jack.
“Spicy chicken, eh?” Jack searched the pale face in front of him. “How about I get you inside on the couch and then I'll get you some soup. We'll worry about the 'spicy' stuff after you're feeling better.”
“Chicken, Jack,” Daniel huffed. “I said I was in the mood for spicy chicken.”
“I'm chicken,” Jack said. “Why do you think I didn't spring you from the infirmary sooner than I did? Frasier scares the
shit out of me. I'm chicken right down to the bottom of my air force issue boots.” He wrapped his arms around Daniel and pulled him close. For the first time since the accident, Daniel was allowing him in, and Jack wasn't about to waste the opportunity. “So you're really in the mood for spicy chicken?”
Daniel put his head down again on Jack's shoulder, letting out a another little laugh. After a few minutes, Jack glance at the door, wondering if he could carry Daniel the last few feet since it didn't look like they were going to be moving anytime soon. Not that it was a complaint, really. He hadn't had a chance to hold Daniel since the accident, but inside would be better.
“I should have seen the trigger mechanism,” Daniel said.
Jack strained to hear the soft voice. “How should you have seen it? It was a trap, plain and simple.”
“I know.” The voice was barely a sigh.
Jack tightened his hold. “So like I keep telling you, next time don't touch stuff you're not supposed to.”
Daniel lifted his head. “That's the point, Jack. I am supposed to touch stuff. Contrary to what you might think, that's my job. This time I did my job and people got hurt. Sam and Teal'c...and you...got hurt.”
Now it was Jack's turn to sigh. “I know.” He held the body close against him, reveling in the feel of Daniel's breath against his neck, a tickling warmth missed the three days Daniel had spent in the infirmary, and almost missed forever. “But you just proved my point. This wasn't your fault. It was a well laid booby trap.”
“I know, I know.” Daniel nodded.
“Let it go, Daniel. Everybody's going to be fine. Including you and me.”
Daniel ran his fingers over the collar of Jack's shirt. “So.”
“So.” Jack repeated.
“So I think I feel like a little spicy chicken before I have some spicy chicken.” Had the face been less tired, Jack might have seen a leer. As it was Daniel smiled a crooked smile and pushed himself away from the arms encircling him. “You go get the food. I'll stand right here in this spot until you get back. Then you can help me through the door.”
“Don't move.” Jack ordered. He hobbled back to the car and grabbed the bag of Chinese from the front seat. He came back and put his shoulder gently under Daniel's arm to guide him into the house.
“So now I have permission to watch your six?” Jack asked.
“I thought you said it wasn't anatomically possible except from behind.”
“Right. So I'll put you to bed...and then I can watch your six.” He made it a question.
“I thought we were eating first.”
“We could eat in bed,” Jack suggested. “Wonton soup and crackers.”
“Spicy chicken?” Daniel asked hopefully.
“Only if you don't tell Fraiser.”
Jack felt the fingers in his back as Daniel held on to his shirt. The trip from the infirmary home had drained the last of Daniel's energy. He knew he'd be lucky to get Daniel to eat a little soup and take one of Janet's pills before he was done for the night. An hour from now, his guilt put away, Daniel would sleep a healing sleep with Jack watching over him. There'd would be no spicy chicken tonight. That was okay. It would keep.
~finis