J/D ficathon ficlet
I wrote this for the Jack/Daniel ficathon, in response to raedbard's request: "Some use of Latin (which doesn't have to be in any way correct!), first time. Restrictions: character bashing, PWP." I hope this fic fits the bill. *frets*
The Circle Run
The air was oven-hot, and the tips of his fingers felt cracked and sore, shriveled as they were from lack of moisture. Sweat continued to pour from him anyway, falling in ticklish trickles down his neck, down the length of his chest, and Daniel mopped it up haphazardly, using his discarded robe. The heat was something Daniel remembered well from his childhood, but he was no longer used to it. His blood had thickened in his years away from the desert.
Beside him, Jack wiped at his own forehead. "I hate this part," he was muttering.
After patting down his robes beneath him, squirming into them comfortably, Daniel looked up. Jack had remained fully clothed, even though he had joined Daniel in his languid sprawl across the sand. Daniel traced the hidden lines of Jack’s body, a part of him pleased that they remained secret from all eyes but his own. "I'm glad you stayed," he finally said, his voice a murmur.
He felt the shrug beside him. "I like parties,” he was gruffly told.
Daniel smiled slightly in response, shaking his head, and enjoyed the scraping touch of Jack's movement, the feel of the other man's clothing rough against his bare skin. Daniel looked over the crowd of wildly celebrating Abydonians--Shau'ri, their shared wife, was somewhere in the middle of them, dancing exuberantly with her cousins, and he could see Skaara at the edge of the celebration, hovering near the food like all the other teenaged boys. Periodically, the young man would look up at them and wave, flick his lighter at O'Neill. The flame was bright in the twilight of the evening.
"From what I understand," Daniel went on, "this is going to last a month. At the very least. You're not going to remain...?" he trailed off, staring at Jack’s BDUs.
Jack quirked an eyebrow at him, deliberately misinterpreting. "Trying to get rid of me already, Dr. Jackson?"
Daniel met his eyes slowly. "Not exactly," he said.
Jack ducked his head, smiling his peculiar little smile, and they relaxed back into a shared silence, watching their people--and wasn't that weird, Daniel thought, their people. He hoped he could help them in their daily lives; Jack was a fighter, a hunter, and already fit smoothly into his defined role in Abydonian culture. Daniel, however, was a bit unsure of his own place. Did any of his knowledge apply to their situation, could he be useful here? Theoretical knowledge was one thing, practical quite another, and he didn't want to live off of his people's kindness, their gratitude.
Jack's hand suddenly landed on his knee, interrupting his thoughts.
"Now, now," Jack told him, rubbing gently. "This is a party, Daniel. No frowning allowed."
Daniel closed his eyes as Jack leaned towards him, as Jack pushed him down on the skins lining the outskirts of the celebration, as Jack touched their mouths together. I'll figure something out, Daniel thought, and then Jack's tongue slipped deftly between his lips, and all thought was obliterated.
-----------------
Daniel Jackson opened his eyes, and he looked around the living room of his house. The weak Colorado sun, dimmed by winter, danced gently over his skin, his furniture, the many books open on his coffee table. He stared at the cube he held tightly within his hands; difficileo, it said, words inscribed in Ancient, difficult.
"Huh," he said softly, thinking of Jack and Abydos. "I'm pretty sure that didn't happen."
--------------------
The next evening, Daniel stopped by Sam's office.
"Anything?" he greeted, sticking only his head around the door.
Sam looked up at him, her face obscured by massive goggles. A precaution, Daniel knew, for the time an artifact blew up in their faces, but luckily, that day was not this day. His Ancient cube sat on a lab table in the center of the room, and it was intact.
Sam shook her head, biting her lip in concentration. "I'm sorry, Daniel," she said, "but if there’s anything being generated by the artifact, I don't have the proper equipment to scan it. I've been working on it all day--I've done all the necessary measurements, but I'm still not getting anything."
Daniel squeezed himself into her office; there was plenty of space, but the room always felt full, crammed with focus. He managed to come up beside her, rocking half-tensely on his heels as he placed a comforting hand on her back. "We'll figure it out," he said absently, staring down at the artifact.
"Have you told the General yet?" Sam asked him.
"Jack? No," Daniel answered, reaching up to rub at his neck. He didn't want to cross that particular minefield quite yet. He wondered if he'd be able to meet Jack's eyes when he did. "As far as I can tell, it's not a weapon of any sort. Or a shield. Or anything particularly useful, in his opinion. I was going to file a report tomorrow morning."
Sam smiled wryly, a testament to all the times Jack had shown utter incomprehension towards one of their projects. "Probably a good idea," she conceded. "Are you going to study it tonight?"
"Yes," Daniel said, trying to ignore the niggling worries in the back of his mind. "I am."
--------------------------
But Daniel Jackson sleeps. And dreams.
--------------------------
Eternity is a beautiful thing, and Daniel loves it. He closes his eyes, and he can see the span of eons--he can look through the eyes of the Others and see civilizations rise and fall, people being born and people dying, art created and empires falling. He knows that one day soon, he’ll see the destiny of his own people, and he’s not sure if it’s fear in his throat or merely nostalgia.
If he were alone, he might have been content to watch. He’ll never know, now.
One of Them-Us, he thinks, Us, and his mind dreams the different forms of duality--is still far too connected to the mundane world. But where that one goes, the other follows; so it was in the material world, and Daniel, for all that he’s proven adept at breaking bonds, cannot and will not break this one.
"Wait, wait, wait," Jack tells him, continuing a debate that started ages ago-or was it merely seconds? Daniel can’t remember-waving his hands in the air. "You want to tell Teal'c?"
Daniel nods, his mind opening to the relevant details. "This is important, Jack,” he says, and he means: it’s important to you. “He needs to know. And Sam, and General Hammond, too."
"You forgot Jonas."
"No, I didn't," Daniel says, confused.
"Yes, you did."
"No, I didn't. I clearly said..." Daniel trails off, thinking about it. Time wasn't supposed to mean anything to either of them anymore, but even while alive, Jack had the unique talent of making time uncomfortable. Hours lost in perusal of an eyebrow, a scar, seconds exploding during an argument…
"Ha!" Jack says, picking up on his hesitation. "You didn't, and you know it."
"Fine," Daniel finally says, giving up, but it’s enough--he’s drawn back, he forms hands and feet and eyes and ears, he forms time and physicality, wrapping them around himself. Things are brighter that way, if less than clear. "I forgot Jonas--even though I didn't mean to. Because he needs to know. They all need to know."
"Hel-lo," Jack says, rolling his eyes. Pretend-eyes, Daniel thinks, and looks down at his own hands. Jack refuses any other form. "All-powerful being here."
"You know we can't get involved."
"I am really getting sick of that argument, Daniel." Jack says, glaring at him. "I'm not going to spend the rest of eternity sitting on my hands over here."
"We didn't do this for the--"
"Oh, yes we did," Jack interrupts, and his voice is as stubborn as it’s ever been, and the substance that makes his self bludgeons at Daniel. "Or at least, I did. That meaning of life stuff bugs the crap outta me--hell, I know everything now and I'm still bored by it. I'm here for the firepower."
"It doesn't work like that--"
"Boom, bam, goodbye goa'uld."
"Jack!" Daniel says, but inwardly, the part of him that remembers more is less than shocked.
"Gonna do it, Daniel."
"No, you can't--" and the tendrils of Jack's self begin to dissipate, precursor to transporting completely. Daniel, feeling it, reaches out and ties himself around the other man. "You're going to listen to me, Jack. The Eye of Ra..."
Jack’s self only leers at him, interrupting his thoughts with a gleeful “Whoa, kinky,” the tenor of his thoughts shifting rapidly, shifting explosively. And suddenly Daniel remembers this too, remembers the wonder of coming together in any and all forms, because Jack is reaching out to him, melding with him, tangling around the core of his being. Amorous, Daniel thinks, and there is humor in his mental voice. Even as an Ascended, Jack is ridiculously amorous.
"Why, Daniel, you're glowing," Jack snickers in his ear, pulling him closer, and suddenly Jack is in his mind; they are Jack-and-Daniel, they are Two, and Complete, and Us, once again. Sex now, goa'uld fighting later, Daniel hears, and he doesn’t know which one of them is laughing.
----------------------
Daniel Jackson woke, and stared at the cube within his fingers. Words flashed across its surface, incomprehensible words, difficileo, longus, amiceo, altera...the cube couldn't seem to make up its mind.
He very desperately wanted to know what it was.
----------------------
"So, you're not sure what this doohickey is yet?" Jack asked him the next morning. Daniel had just delivered his report on the object, had stayed to chat to Jack about it. Jack, for his part, was eyeing the cube warily.
Daniel shook his head, shrugging. "I think it has something to do with alternate universes," he said slowly. "It's shown me a few things, but they don't match our history."
Jack tossed the cube back at him. "Anything interesting?"
Daniel shrugged again, not meeting Jack's eyes. "Kind of," he said. "You staying behind on Abydos, you ascending after Ba'al..."
Jack met his eyes. "I didn't know you remembered that," he said quietly.
"I don't," Daniel told him. "Not really." He reached forward, handing the cube back to Jack. "Which is why I think it might be keyed to you."
Jack took it, turning the cube over. "Huh," he said. "You want me to give it a whirl?"
"If you wouldn't mind."
Jack closed his eyes. After a long moment, he opened them. "Nothing's happening."
Daniel sighed, and mimed his frustration at the object. "I think its Ancient," he told Jack. "I mean, there's Ancient writing on it, but it doesn't make any sense. The words don't mean anything--they're gibberish." He stared morosely at the cube.
"Well, don't pout, Daniel," Jack told him, quirking a grin in his direction. "I'll take it home tonight, see what I can do with it. How's that?"
"It might help."
"Okay, then," Jack told him. He reached down, putting the cube in his bottom drawer. It was the place Jack stashed things that he had to remember; Daniel had never seen Jack use a proper filing system. "Just out of curiosity," Jack continued, straightening up. "What does it say?"
"Difficileo longum deponere," Daniel said, shrugging. "Difficult long give up."
Jack stared at him, blinked once or twice. "Yep," he finally said. "Beats me."
---------------------
That night, Daniel dreamed.
His dreams were not amazing, they were not different, they were nothing new. They were merely the fragments of desires he had put aside a long, long time ago.
But when he awoke, he didn't forget them.
----------------------
"I don't understand, Sam," Daniel said, two days later. He had the Ancient cube in his hands, was turning it over with his fingers. "It hasn't worked for Jack, or for you and Teal’c either? That doesn't make any sense."
Sam was quiet, looking at the cube.
"I mean," Daniel went on, "I gave it to Jack--and it should work for him, he's got the gene--but no, nothing happens. So I was thinking that maybe that was because it already worked for him. The images have to come from somewhere, and I noticed that they're all Jack-centric universes, things that had never happened to him--I thought that maybe he was the recording, and we were, you know, the watchers, the audience, though obviously we probably contribute some aspect to the content..."
Sam sat down slowly, her eyes not leaving the cube. "It felt like Nareem," she finally said.
"What?" Daniel asked, frowning at her. "What do you mean?"
Her blue eyes flickered up to meet his briefly. "There was this device," she said, handing the cube back to Daniel. "A Tollan device, and he said it recorded a person's feelings. And that cube..."
She trailed off.
Daniel stared at her, the frown deepening into worry. "What, Sam?"
She met his eyes firmly. "That's what it felt like, Daniel. That's what the cube felt like to me, before it shut off. I don't think it's a quantum device at all--I think it's a something else, something, well, more personal. I think it might be recording the General's thoughts."
Sam shook her head, a look of frustration covering her features. "Or maybe his regrets, his desires; I didn't actually see anything, so I can't be sure. But I'm certain there's a mental component, it might even be subconscious..."
"No," Daniel interrupted slowly. He thought about alternative universes, and about the type of alternative universes that were controlled by the conscious or subconscious mind, and he found himself shutting down. Felt something like shock run through him.
"They're not..." he murmured in disbelief, feeling his hands curling over the cube, squeezing it tightly. He looked up at Sam. “They can’t possibly be Jack’s daydreams.”
---------------------
It wasn't a perfect evening. The balcony air was chilled, and Daniel didn't have a sweater; he stood shivering in the evening air. There were no stars in the black sky above; the clouds were full and angry in their domination of the heavens. The beer in his hands tasted like piss, the exhaustion in his limbs felt like despair. But it was home, it was real, it was their rightful history. This, Daniel thought, this is the way it's supposed to be.
Jack was taking the beers out of their hands, placing them on the railing, he was coming closer. Nearer, and suddenly Daniel didn't feel quite so tired any more.
"Daniel," Jack said, and their eyes met. "Daniel."
And Daniel reached out for him.
------------------------
In the silence of his living room, Daniel blinked out of his daze. Then he looked down at the cube in his hands.
Difficileo eso longum deponere amorema, it read, finally complete.
He threw on his jacket.
-------------------------
The night was late, and Jack scowled at him sleepily as he opened his front door, but Daniel only shook the cube under Jack's nose. It was blazing with light, the inscription shining between his fingers, and Jack took it, looking it over.
"It is difficult," Jack translated slowly, his Ancient learning years-old and faulty, his mind clouded by sleepiness. "It is difficult..." and he paused, his eyes sharpening, his body tensing, "...to give up a long love."
Their eyes met. Daniel felt something in his chest tighten.
"What is this, Daniel?" Jack asked quietly.
Daniel took a deep breath, searching Jack's eyes. They didn't show a thing--maybe the cube was wrong, or maybe Daniel had understood its purpose incorrectly. It wouldn't be the first time, and maybe the years were dimming his intuition, his ability to make leaps in logic and still be right...
He took the chance anyway.
"I need to ask you something, Jack," Daniel said softly. "Let me in."
And as Daniel walked into the house, Jack finally did.
Feedback is appreciated. *g*
The Circle Run
The air was oven-hot, and the tips of his fingers felt cracked and sore, shriveled as they were from lack of moisture. Sweat continued to pour from him anyway, falling in ticklish trickles down his neck, down the length of his chest, and Daniel mopped it up haphazardly, using his discarded robe. The heat was something Daniel remembered well from his childhood, but he was no longer used to it. His blood had thickened in his years away from the desert.
Beside him, Jack wiped at his own forehead. "I hate this part," he was muttering.
After patting down his robes beneath him, squirming into them comfortably, Daniel looked up. Jack had remained fully clothed, even though he had joined Daniel in his languid sprawl across the sand. Daniel traced the hidden lines of Jack’s body, a part of him pleased that they remained secret from all eyes but his own. "I'm glad you stayed," he finally said, his voice a murmur.
He felt the shrug beside him. "I like parties,” he was gruffly told.
Daniel smiled slightly in response, shaking his head, and enjoyed the scraping touch of Jack's movement, the feel of the other man's clothing rough against his bare skin. Daniel looked over the crowd of wildly celebrating Abydonians--Shau'ri, their shared wife, was somewhere in the middle of them, dancing exuberantly with her cousins, and he could see Skaara at the edge of the celebration, hovering near the food like all the other teenaged boys. Periodically, the young man would look up at them and wave, flick his lighter at O'Neill. The flame was bright in the twilight of the evening.
"From what I understand," Daniel went on, "this is going to last a month. At the very least. You're not going to remain...?" he trailed off, staring at Jack’s BDUs.
Jack quirked an eyebrow at him, deliberately misinterpreting. "Trying to get rid of me already, Dr. Jackson?"
Daniel met his eyes slowly. "Not exactly," he said.
Jack ducked his head, smiling his peculiar little smile, and they relaxed back into a shared silence, watching their people--and wasn't that weird, Daniel thought, their people. He hoped he could help them in their daily lives; Jack was a fighter, a hunter, and already fit smoothly into his defined role in Abydonian culture. Daniel, however, was a bit unsure of his own place. Did any of his knowledge apply to their situation, could he be useful here? Theoretical knowledge was one thing, practical quite another, and he didn't want to live off of his people's kindness, their gratitude.
Jack's hand suddenly landed on his knee, interrupting his thoughts.
"Now, now," Jack told him, rubbing gently. "This is a party, Daniel. No frowning allowed."
Daniel closed his eyes as Jack leaned towards him, as Jack pushed him down on the skins lining the outskirts of the celebration, as Jack touched their mouths together. I'll figure something out, Daniel thought, and then Jack's tongue slipped deftly between his lips, and all thought was obliterated.
-----------------
Daniel Jackson opened his eyes, and he looked around the living room of his house. The weak Colorado sun, dimmed by winter, danced gently over his skin, his furniture, the many books open on his coffee table. He stared at the cube he held tightly within his hands; difficileo, it said, words inscribed in Ancient, difficult.
"Huh," he said softly, thinking of Jack and Abydos. "I'm pretty sure that didn't happen."
--------------------
The next evening, Daniel stopped by Sam's office.
"Anything?" he greeted, sticking only his head around the door.
Sam looked up at him, her face obscured by massive goggles. A precaution, Daniel knew, for the time an artifact blew up in their faces, but luckily, that day was not this day. His Ancient cube sat on a lab table in the center of the room, and it was intact.
Sam shook her head, biting her lip in concentration. "I'm sorry, Daniel," she said, "but if there’s anything being generated by the artifact, I don't have the proper equipment to scan it. I've been working on it all day--I've done all the necessary measurements, but I'm still not getting anything."
Daniel squeezed himself into her office; there was plenty of space, but the room always felt full, crammed with focus. He managed to come up beside her, rocking half-tensely on his heels as he placed a comforting hand on her back. "We'll figure it out," he said absently, staring down at the artifact.
"Have you told the General yet?" Sam asked him.
"Jack? No," Daniel answered, reaching up to rub at his neck. He didn't want to cross that particular minefield quite yet. He wondered if he'd be able to meet Jack's eyes when he did. "As far as I can tell, it's not a weapon of any sort. Or a shield. Or anything particularly useful, in his opinion. I was going to file a report tomorrow morning."
Sam smiled wryly, a testament to all the times Jack had shown utter incomprehension towards one of their projects. "Probably a good idea," she conceded. "Are you going to study it tonight?"
"Yes," Daniel said, trying to ignore the niggling worries in the back of his mind. "I am."
--------------------------
But Daniel Jackson sleeps. And dreams.
--------------------------
Eternity is a beautiful thing, and Daniel loves it. He closes his eyes, and he can see the span of eons--he can look through the eyes of the Others and see civilizations rise and fall, people being born and people dying, art created and empires falling. He knows that one day soon, he’ll see the destiny of his own people, and he’s not sure if it’s fear in his throat or merely nostalgia.
If he were alone, he might have been content to watch. He’ll never know, now.
One of Them-Us, he thinks, Us, and his mind dreams the different forms of duality--is still far too connected to the mundane world. But where that one goes, the other follows; so it was in the material world, and Daniel, for all that he’s proven adept at breaking bonds, cannot and will not break this one.
"Wait, wait, wait," Jack tells him, continuing a debate that started ages ago-or was it merely seconds? Daniel can’t remember-waving his hands in the air. "You want to tell Teal'c?"
Daniel nods, his mind opening to the relevant details. "This is important, Jack,” he says, and he means: it’s important to you. “He needs to know. And Sam, and General Hammond, too."
"You forgot Jonas."
"No, I didn't," Daniel says, confused.
"Yes, you did."
"No, I didn't. I clearly said..." Daniel trails off, thinking about it. Time wasn't supposed to mean anything to either of them anymore, but even while alive, Jack had the unique talent of making time uncomfortable. Hours lost in perusal of an eyebrow, a scar, seconds exploding during an argument…
"Ha!" Jack says, picking up on his hesitation. "You didn't, and you know it."
"Fine," Daniel finally says, giving up, but it’s enough--he’s drawn back, he forms hands and feet and eyes and ears, he forms time and physicality, wrapping them around himself. Things are brighter that way, if less than clear. "I forgot Jonas--even though I didn't mean to. Because he needs to know. They all need to know."
"Hel-lo," Jack says, rolling his eyes. Pretend-eyes, Daniel thinks, and looks down at his own hands. Jack refuses any other form. "All-powerful being here."
"You know we can't get involved."
"I am really getting sick of that argument, Daniel." Jack says, glaring at him. "I'm not going to spend the rest of eternity sitting on my hands over here."
"We didn't do this for the--"
"Oh, yes we did," Jack interrupts, and his voice is as stubborn as it’s ever been, and the substance that makes his self bludgeons at Daniel. "Or at least, I did. That meaning of life stuff bugs the crap outta me--hell, I know everything now and I'm still bored by it. I'm here for the firepower."
"It doesn't work like that--"
"Boom, bam, goodbye goa'uld."
"Jack!" Daniel says, but inwardly, the part of him that remembers more is less than shocked.
"Gonna do it, Daniel."
"No, you can't--" and the tendrils of Jack's self begin to dissipate, precursor to transporting completely. Daniel, feeling it, reaches out and ties himself around the other man. "You're going to listen to me, Jack. The Eye of Ra..."
Jack’s self only leers at him, interrupting his thoughts with a gleeful “Whoa, kinky,” the tenor of his thoughts shifting rapidly, shifting explosively. And suddenly Daniel remembers this too, remembers the wonder of coming together in any and all forms, because Jack is reaching out to him, melding with him, tangling around the core of his being. Amorous, Daniel thinks, and there is humor in his mental voice. Even as an Ascended, Jack is ridiculously amorous.
"Why, Daniel, you're glowing," Jack snickers in his ear, pulling him closer, and suddenly Jack is in his mind; they are Jack-and-Daniel, they are Two, and Complete, and Us, once again. Sex now, goa'uld fighting later, Daniel hears, and he doesn’t know which one of them is laughing.
----------------------
Daniel Jackson woke, and stared at the cube within his fingers. Words flashed across its surface, incomprehensible words, difficileo, longus, amiceo, altera...the cube couldn't seem to make up its mind.
He very desperately wanted to know what it was.
----------------------
"So, you're not sure what this doohickey is yet?" Jack asked him the next morning. Daniel had just delivered his report on the object, had stayed to chat to Jack about it. Jack, for his part, was eyeing the cube warily.
Daniel shook his head, shrugging. "I think it has something to do with alternate universes," he said slowly. "It's shown me a few things, but they don't match our history."
Jack tossed the cube back at him. "Anything interesting?"
Daniel shrugged again, not meeting Jack's eyes. "Kind of," he said. "You staying behind on Abydos, you ascending after Ba'al..."
Jack met his eyes. "I didn't know you remembered that," he said quietly.
"I don't," Daniel told him. "Not really." He reached forward, handing the cube back to Jack. "Which is why I think it might be keyed to you."
Jack took it, turning the cube over. "Huh," he said. "You want me to give it a whirl?"
"If you wouldn't mind."
Jack closed his eyes. After a long moment, he opened them. "Nothing's happening."
Daniel sighed, and mimed his frustration at the object. "I think its Ancient," he told Jack. "I mean, there's Ancient writing on it, but it doesn't make any sense. The words don't mean anything--they're gibberish." He stared morosely at the cube.
"Well, don't pout, Daniel," Jack told him, quirking a grin in his direction. "I'll take it home tonight, see what I can do with it. How's that?"
"It might help."
"Okay, then," Jack told him. He reached down, putting the cube in his bottom drawer. It was the place Jack stashed things that he had to remember; Daniel had never seen Jack use a proper filing system. "Just out of curiosity," Jack continued, straightening up. "What does it say?"
"Difficileo longum deponere," Daniel said, shrugging. "Difficult long give up."
Jack stared at him, blinked once or twice. "Yep," he finally said. "Beats me."
---------------------
That night, Daniel dreamed.
His dreams were not amazing, they were not different, they were nothing new. They were merely the fragments of desires he had put aside a long, long time ago.
But when he awoke, he didn't forget them.
----------------------
"I don't understand, Sam," Daniel said, two days later. He had the Ancient cube in his hands, was turning it over with his fingers. "It hasn't worked for Jack, or for you and Teal’c either? That doesn't make any sense."
Sam was quiet, looking at the cube.
"I mean," Daniel went on, "I gave it to Jack--and it should work for him, he's got the gene--but no, nothing happens. So I was thinking that maybe that was because it already worked for him. The images have to come from somewhere, and I noticed that they're all Jack-centric universes, things that had never happened to him--I thought that maybe he was the recording, and we were, you know, the watchers, the audience, though obviously we probably contribute some aspect to the content..."
Sam sat down slowly, her eyes not leaving the cube. "It felt like Nareem," she finally said.
"What?" Daniel asked, frowning at her. "What do you mean?"
Her blue eyes flickered up to meet his briefly. "There was this device," she said, handing the cube back to Daniel. "A Tollan device, and he said it recorded a person's feelings. And that cube..."
She trailed off.
Daniel stared at her, the frown deepening into worry. "What, Sam?"
She met his eyes firmly. "That's what it felt like, Daniel. That's what the cube felt like to me, before it shut off. I don't think it's a quantum device at all--I think it's a something else, something, well, more personal. I think it might be recording the General's thoughts."
Sam shook her head, a look of frustration covering her features. "Or maybe his regrets, his desires; I didn't actually see anything, so I can't be sure. But I'm certain there's a mental component, it might even be subconscious..."
"No," Daniel interrupted slowly. He thought about alternative universes, and about the type of alternative universes that were controlled by the conscious or subconscious mind, and he found himself shutting down. Felt something like shock run through him.
"They're not..." he murmured in disbelief, feeling his hands curling over the cube, squeezing it tightly. He looked up at Sam. “They can’t possibly be Jack’s daydreams.”
---------------------
It wasn't a perfect evening. The balcony air was chilled, and Daniel didn't have a sweater; he stood shivering in the evening air. There were no stars in the black sky above; the clouds were full and angry in their domination of the heavens. The beer in his hands tasted like piss, the exhaustion in his limbs felt like despair. But it was home, it was real, it was their rightful history. This, Daniel thought, this is the way it's supposed to be.
Jack was taking the beers out of their hands, placing them on the railing, he was coming closer. Nearer, and suddenly Daniel didn't feel quite so tired any more.
"Daniel," Jack said, and their eyes met. "Daniel."
And Daniel reached out for him.
------------------------
In the silence of his living room, Daniel blinked out of his daze. Then he looked down at the cube in his hands.
Difficileo eso longum deponere amorema, it read, finally complete.
He threw on his jacket.
-------------------------
The night was late, and Jack scowled at him sleepily as he opened his front door, but Daniel only shook the cube under Jack's nose. It was blazing with light, the inscription shining between his fingers, and Jack took it, looking it over.
"It is difficult," Jack translated slowly, his Ancient learning years-old and faulty, his mind clouded by sleepiness. "It is difficult..." and he paused, his eyes sharpening, his body tensing, "...to give up a long love."
Their eyes met. Daniel felt something in his chest tighten.
"What is this, Daniel?" Jack asked quietly.
Daniel took a deep breath, searching Jack's eyes. They didn't show a thing--maybe the cube was wrong, or maybe Daniel had understood its purpose incorrectly. It wouldn't be the first time, and maybe the years were dimming his intuition, his ability to make leaps in logic and still be right...
He took the chance anyway.
"I need to ask you something, Jack," Daniel said softly. "Let me in."
And as Daniel walked into the house, Jack finally did.
Feedback is appreciated. *g*