Five kisses (more or less) under the mistletoe. (part 3)gategremlynDecember 22 2008, 02:50:47 UTC
Part Three
o*0*o
“Pour me another cup of coffee.”
“I don't think coffee will help.” Nevertheless, Jack took Daniel's cup and poured. “Why did I host the Christmas party this year?”
“Because you're a nice guy. Because you're “the man.” Because it's your turn. Because you're going to move to Washington next month.”
Jack poured a cup of coffee for himself. “One last hurrah in the old homestead.”
“Yep.”
Jack sipped his coffee and looked at the mess. “So why did I host the Christmas party again?”
“Because you're old and senile.”
“I figured that was it.” Jack placed his mug on the counter. “Remember an hour from now, you volunteered to help. Grab a garbage bag.” Daniel grabbed and began the tedious job of cleaning up.
“Ow!”
Jack continued to stuff paper plates, empty cups, and lipstick-stained napkins into his bag. “What?”
“This damn plant's got teeth.”
“What did you do?”
“I stabbed myself with the mistletoe.”
Jack walked over to look at the wound. “Ouch.” The blood oozed from a nasty looking scratch on Daniel's thumb. "I think the wire hook got you."
“Is mistletoe poisonous?” Daniel raised his hand to put the thumb in his mouth and suck off the blood.
Jack grabbed the hand. “The berries are poisonous. You didn't eat any of it, did you?”
“No, Jack, I didn't eat any.” He tried to pull his hand away.
“Then I don't think you're in danger of dying-again--any time soon.” He turned Daniel's hand so he could see the scratch in a better light.
“Ow!”
“Now what?” Jack asked, ignoring Daniel as he twisted the hand back and forth.
“Ow, you're bending the arm in directions it's not meant to go.”
“Stop being such a wuss.”
Daniel hissed a little as Jack wiped the blood off with a Kleenex from his pocket.
“What's your problem?” Jack asked, wiping more gently. “We've got light from the Christmas tree. We're here in my house all alone, standing under the mistletoe.” He looked at the lump of wilted green sticking out of an almost full garbage bag. “Some people would call that romantic.”
“Um, Jack?”
“Yes, Daniel?” Unlike the squeak of Daniel's voice, Jack's was deep and sultry.
“How much did you have to drink tonight?”
“Enough to yank your chain.” Jack wrapped Daniel's hand around the Kleenex. “Now stop trying to get out of work and pick up that bag. Don't stab yourself again.” He turned to walk away.
“Um, Jack?”
Jack sighed. He turned back to see Daniel pull the mistletoe out of the bag--carefully, he noticed. “Now what?”
“Well,” Daniel said as he held up the mistletoe, “we have the time, we have the place, we have the excuse--” he waved the branch about,”--but we haven't kissed yet.” He stepped close enough that the two of them were almost chest to chest.
“Kissed?” Jack cleared his throat.
“Kissed,” Daniel whispered and licked his lips.
“Um...”
“You're right. It's almost Christmas; we're here...alone.” Daniel leaned forward. “One Christmas kiss.”
“Um...Daniel? I don't think this is a good idea. I mean a long distance relationship and all. Not that we won't see one another. Because I'm sure we will. It's just that--” Jack leaned back as Daniel continued to lean forward. About the time he was going to have to move his feet or fall over, he felt something placed in his hand: the mistletoe.
“Don't mess with me, Jack. Especially when I'm your free labor.” Daniel stepped back and picked up the garbage bag. “And do something with that plant; no matter where we move it, it's dangerous.” He turned away, a little smile on his face.
“Ow!”
Now Daniel sighed. He turned back. “What is it, Jack?”
o*0*o
“Pour me another cup of coffee.”
“I don't think coffee will help.” Nevertheless, Jack took Daniel's cup and poured. “Why did I host the Christmas party this year?”
“Because you're a nice guy. Because you're “the man.” Because it's your turn. Because you're going to move to Washington next month.”
Jack poured a cup of coffee for himself. “One last hurrah in the old homestead.”
“Yep.”
Jack sipped his coffee and looked at the mess. “So why did I host the Christmas party again?”
“Because you're old and senile.”
“I figured that was it.” Jack placed his mug on the counter. “Remember an hour from now, you volunteered to help. Grab a garbage bag.” Daniel grabbed and began the tedious job of cleaning up.
“Ow!”
Jack continued to stuff paper plates, empty cups, and lipstick-stained napkins into his bag. “What?”
“This damn plant's got teeth.”
“What did you do?”
“I stabbed myself with the mistletoe.”
Jack walked over to look at the wound. “Ouch.” The blood oozed from a nasty looking scratch on Daniel's thumb. "I think the wire hook got you."
“Is mistletoe poisonous?” Daniel raised his hand to put the thumb in his mouth and suck off the blood.
Jack grabbed the hand. “The berries are poisonous. You didn't eat any of it, did you?”
“No, Jack, I didn't eat any.” He tried to pull his hand away.
“Then I don't think you're in danger of dying-again--any time soon.” He turned Daniel's hand so he could see the scratch in a better light.
“Ow!”
“Now what?” Jack asked, ignoring Daniel as he twisted the hand back and forth.
“Ow, you're bending the arm in directions it's not meant to go.”
“Stop being such a wuss.”
Daniel hissed a little as Jack wiped the blood off with a Kleenex from his pocket.
“What's your problem?” Jack asked, wiping more gently. “We've got light from the Christmas tree. We're here in my house all alone, standing under the mistletoe.” He looked at the lump of wilted green sticking out of an almost full garbage bag. “Some people would call that romantic.”
“Um, Jack?”
“Yes, Daniel?” Unlike the squeak of Daniel's voice, Jack's was deep and sultry.
“How much did you have to drink tonight?”
“Enough to yank your chain.” Jack wrapped Daniel's hand around the Kleenex. “Now stop trying to get out of work and pick up that bag. Don't stab yourself again.” He turned to walk away.
“Um, Jack?”
Jack sighed. He turned back to see Daniel pull the mistletoe out of the bag--carefully, he noticed. “Now what?”
“Well,” Daniel said as he held up the mistletoe, “we have the time, we have the place, we have the excuse--” he waved the branch about,”--but we haven't kissed yet.” He stepped close enough that the two of them were almost chest to chest.
“Kissed?” Jack cleared his throat.
“Kissed,” Daniel whispered and licked his lips.
“Um...”
“You're right. It's almost Christmas; we're here...alone.” Daniel leaned forward. “One Christmas kiss.”
“Um...Daniel? I don't think this is a good idea. I mean a long distance relationship and all. Not that we won't see one another. Because I'm sure we will. It's just that--” Jack leaned back as Daniel continued to lean forward. About the time he was going to have to move his feet or fall over, he felt something placed in his hand: the mistletoe.
“Don't mess with me, Jack. Especially when I'm your free labor.” Daniel stepped back and picked up the garbage bag. “And do something with that plant; no matter where we move it, it's dangerous.” He turned away, a little smile on his face.
“Ow!”
Now Daniel sighed. He turned back. “What is it, Jack?”
“I cut myself on this damn plant.”
“Here,” Daniel said. “Let me look.”
finis!
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Also, Walter with a hot nurse? Two thumbs up. :-)
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