Jack/Baal Fic. Again.
Okay, you guys asked for it. I'm pretty sure this is the last Jack/Baal fic I'm writing, because I'm done, done, done, done, and done. And done. Yeah. Please?
*headdesk*
Anyway, this is basically a series of connected drabbles, taken from that epic fic that I didn't write--remember me talking about that? Yeah, that one. *g* Hope you enjoy!
Oh, and it probably won't make sense without the first story, Wrong.
CONFLICT OF INTEREST
Right, Then
The clock read 0307.
Jack stared at it, fiddled the pencil in his hand. SG-1 had a few more days before they were due back; it was a dangerous mission, and Jack was holding down the fort for them. Just in case. It didn't make the waiting any easier.
0312
Jack opened a folder, started reading what was inside. Halfway through, he gave up, and trusting Walter, just signed the damn thing. There were about fifteen folders below it; he went through those, too.
0354
Jack fiddled with his pen.
0405
He put down the pen, and fiddled with a pencil.
0407
Jack stared morosely at more paperwork, and decided to leave it for later.
0413
He finally cracked.
On his way down the few stairs to the control room, he heard SG-1's voices in his mind. Daniel's said, Don't you think this is a bit dangerous? Jack told the voice that he could handle it. Carter's had more facts and figures, she pointed out how many times his fitness for command had been scrutinized by the NID, ect, ect--all of them hiding her true concern. Jack told that voice that if the higher-ups hadn't kicked him out already, they weren't going to. Teal'c's was more succinct:
He is, and Jack could just see the glowering features, a false god.
Jack didn't know what to say to that one.
Walter, for his part, only stared at him in that half-disbelieving, half-accusatory manner that he had, but he didn't say anything. He dialed the coordinates as ordered, opened the gate, and with merely a twitch of his cheek, sent Jack's message through.
Jack had tapped it out carefully--Morse code, easy to decipher and with the added benefit of not having to broadcast his voice out to only god knew where. Across the galaxy, far, far away, a number of beeps and dashes were heard:
K-R-E-E-S-P-A-R-K-Y, it read.
Baal showed up a few minutes later.
"You are perhaps," the goa’uld was saying, his hologram shifting and sliding in a way that somehow imitated his obvious annoyance, "the most irritating person I have ever had the displeasure of knowing..."
The control room tensed, looking between them.
Baal's eyes met Jack's, flashing white.
Jack finally broke the silence.
"Sparky!" he cried out, throwing his hands open wide in welcome. "I thought you'd never make it!"
--------------------------
--------------------------
What He Said
"Serpent guards," Teal'c intoned gravely.
Daniel tapped his lips with his fingertips. "Then I think...Baal," he said, a thoughtful frown on his brow. He looked up at them. "Right? Or is it Anubis?"
"No, I think you're right," Carter told him. "I think it's Baal."
"Huh," Jack said.
Daniel looked at him. "Huh?"
Jack stared back, shrugging. After a moment, he got up, went to the Jaffa guarding the door, and tapped him on the shoulder. "Take me to your leader," he said, speaking slowly.
They went.
"Huh," Daniel said, staring after them. He looked around at Teal'c and Sam. "Did anyone else think that was odd?"
--------------------------
"Well, don't you clean up nicely," Jack said upon entering the room.
Baal arched an eyebrow at him, a half-smile flickering briefly across his features. It was a bit weird, Jack thought, seeing him face to face again. The hologram was one thing--it was something out of the past, something he had been used to before thinking of Baal as more than just a creep--so seeing Baal spiffed out in goa'uldy clothing there didn't really catch his interest. In the flesh, though, Baal was...impressive to look at. He had almost forgotten.
"Unfortunately," Baal finally said, his voice droll as he gave Jack a once-over, "you do not."
Jack held up his hands. "Hey, now," he said. "I'm on a mission--I'm not exactly squeaky fresh, here."
Baal's amusement only grew, and he crossed the room, dismissing the guards with a flicker of his eyelids. He reached up, running a single finger along the line of Jack's jaw. "I wouldn't have guessed," he said slowly, and took Jack's mouth with his own.
A light slide of lips, nothing more, gentle and welcoming. They stood that way, still, for a few moments, breathing in each other's breath, taking in the scent of one another, the tangible feeling of their presences. And then all of a sudden, one of Baal's hands was in his hair, yanking his head back, and Jack found himself being bent over the arm being swiftly wrapped around his waist--Baal was bullying him, forcing him to submit with his greater strength--but Jack raked his nails down Baal's body in response, trying to reach him, trying to tear into him, trying to defy him. He found nothing but the tightly molded brocade of Baal's clothing against his fingertips.
When Baal finally let him up for air, Jack laughed softly against him. "You weren't serious about that slave thing, were you?" he said, his voice dropping warningly. "'Cause that really isn't one of my life goals."
Baal ran his fingers though Jack's hair, held him firmly by the back of his neck. "Were you serious about killing me?" he mused, his eyes nothing but amused.
Jack patted his back. "Look, captured," he said. "No killing for now."
"Which I notice doesn't answer my question," Baal murmured, but with a final, pointed kiss, he let Jack go.
Jack looked around, looking for a place to sit. He ended up crossing his legs on Baal's bed--not without a smirk in his direction--but when he spoke again, it was all business. "If you're not doing the slave thing," he said, "which I'm guessing you're not because, hey, you've still got your clothes on, then what is it you're wanting from me?"
Baal rolled his eyes, muttering, "You make it rather difficult for a god to resist," but he was nodding. "There is a situation," he began, crossing his arms thoughtfully, "that I believe would interest the both of us..."
"I want my people up here," Jack interrupted him. His voice was firm, demanding.
After a moment, Baal nodded. "As you wish," he said, and then he called for them.
----------------------------
----------------------------
Not Quite There Yet
Jack ripped a strip off the piece of paper in his hands, and wadded it up into a small ball. He looked at it for a moment, stuck it in his mouth, and stared up at Baal's hologram.
Baal raised an eyebrow.
"You took my ZPM," Jack finally said, spitting out the paper. Then he threw the spitball directly at Baal's face. "It was mine."
The spitball fazed through, Baal blinking irritably as his hologram dissolved and reformed. "I would like to point out," he said, frowning, "that one: a ZPM, as you delightfully call it, is Ancient and not Tau'ri technology..."
Jack scowled at him disbelievingly, and stuck another wad of paper in his mouth.
"...and two," Baal went on, eyeing him, "the device was found on my planet. You're quite lucky that I sent your team back intact in the first place."
The spitball whizzed through the air. Had Baal been real, it would have landed splat on his nose.
"Don't do me any favors," Jack told him, scowling.
Baal arched both of his eyebrows. "You don't appreciate my generosity?" he asked.
Another spitball fizzed through Baal's face. "And quit trying to change the subject."
--------------------------------
--------------------------------
No Habla Goa'uld
Baal flashed into the Gate room. "I suggest you raise your iris," he said calmly, meeting Jack's eyes.
Jack stared at him through the control room window. "What--" he said, reaching for the microphone, and clicked it on. "Baal, it already is. Why--"
"I'm sending a naquadah enhanced bomb through," Baal told him, his voice matter-of-fact, "and if you don't keep your iris raised, all of you will die."
Jack stared at him.
"Oookay," Jack finally said, still speaking through the speakers. "I think I know what this is about--hey. Baal, we agreed--you do your thing, I do mine..."
"You destroyed my palace!" Baal finally told him, fury breaking through the calm in his voice.
"Well, yeah..."
Baal flashed out.
"Wow, he's pissed," Jack muttered under his breath. He turned to Walter. "Our iris is fine, right?"
There was a loud, muffled thump. The Stargate shuddered.
Jack looked at it. "I'm guessing yes," he finally said.
-------------------------
-------------------------
Um, I don't think so
"O'Neill," Baal was saying irritably, "what is it this..."
His holographic eyes suddenly focused within the room, taking in the sight of Daniel Jackson before him. The gate room was darkened, and in the control room above, only the remaining members of SG-1 stared back at him, as well as a short, ugly man who Baal didn't know. "What is the meaning of this?" he finally demanded. "Where is O'Neill?"
Jackson stared at him, his lips pinched tightly. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually," he said.
Baal raised his eyebrows condescendingly. "I cannot imagine that you," he said slowly, "have anything to say to me."
"Well," Jackson told him flatly, and his eyes were hard. "There's a first time for everything, isn't there."
They stared at each other in silence.
"Well," Baal finally asked, irritation clouding his voice. "What is it?"
Jackson tapped his lips, staring at Baal from over his glasses. "It's Jack, he's..." and the man grimaced. "Amatseru has him," he finally said.
Baal felt himself go very, very still. "Does she," he murmured quietly.
Jackson's eyes locked on to his. "Yes."
"And what makes you think I would care?" Baal asked, staring back at him.
"You know her reputation."
Baal crossed his arms. "And?"
"Please," Jackson said, his voice low and angry, "don't even pretend that you don't care about Jack."
Silence fell on the room.
"Why would you do this?" Baal asked finally, narrowing his eyes at the other man. "I have no reason to return him to your people--our truce is ended. What makes you think that I would blithely return him to you, like some kind of servant?"
"I don't."
Baal didn't say anything, merely tilted his head with interest.
"But I'd rather have to rescue him from you, then from her," Jackson continued slowly. "Jack...would be safer that way."
Baal felt his lips twist. "I see."
Daniel Jackson never looked away. "Good."
--------------------------------------
"Funny," Jack says when Baal finds him, "I didn't think I was dreaming."
"You are not dreaming, O'Neill."
"Maybe it's a nightmare?" Jack asks him. "I used to have those, when it came to you."
----------------------------------------
Baal stands naked in the flickering light of the viewscreen, staring silently down at the information it provides. His host is a tall man, strong and defined; the shadows of the darkened room play lovingly over his shoulders, across his lean back. Baal's long fingers are stroking the control panels before him; he is silent, and he doesn't turn around.
Jack watches him from their bed. He's propped up on plush pillows, relaxing in the post-coital glow of being well and truly fucked--Baal, it seems, really gets off on capturing him. And it is capturing, Jack thinks, and not rescuing, despite the fact that being with Baal is much better than being with Amatseru, because it's still not his home, or the SGC, or even Earth. It is, however, very comfortable, and sometimes, Jack finds himself thinking that maybe, just maybe, he could grow accustomed to it, too.
"It's them," Jack finally says, his voice soft. "Isn't it?"
Baal taps the control panel; it fades away, and he is left standing in darkness. "Intruders have been detected in the glider bay," he says, and his voice is low, unreadable. "Undoubtedly, they are your friends."
Jack nods, crushing the silk sheet covering him between in his fists. "That's what I'd guess, yeah," he says.
The room is silent for a moment longer--Baal is staring at him, Jack thinks, and he wonders if goa'uld enhanced vision is enough to conquer the sleepy darkness of the room. Suddenly, however, the bed dips, and Jack feels Baal crawling above him, feels as Baal lowers himself down upon Jack's body, the silk sheet smooth between their naked forms. "You will try to go with them," Baal finally says, and he strokes Jack's face lightly, possessively.
"Yes," Jack tells him quietly. "I will."
Baal kisses him, a gentle and fleeting thing. "I will attempt to prevent it, of course," he says, and Jack remembers the days and nights of the week past, Baal's fingers bruising his hips, Baal's voice harsh--"Mine. Mine. Mine"--while he thrust hard into Jack's body. "But it occurs to me that you have escaped me before."
Jack closes his eyes at the memory.
"I could teach you," Baal continues, and his voice is quiet, surprisingly sincere. "I could help you learn to worship me, to adore me as your god..." Gathering Jack tightly in his arms, he twists and twines them together until there is no room at all left between their bodies, and he kisses him, a furious and desperate thing. "O'Neill," Baal finally breathes into Jack's mouth, "I could teach you the pleasure in it."
"I know," Jack tells him softly.
Then Jack kisses him again--to shut him up.
It's easier that way, for the both of them.
-------------------------
-------------------------
Later, Maybe
When Baal's fleet was finally destroyed, the ships and gliders spread out in pieces across a distant part of the galaxy, Jack threw a party.
Everyone from the SGC came--it had been a close call, Baal had come just this close to taking over the Earth. Teal'c's broad smile lit up the room, his vindictive glee broadcasting the general feeling in the room. Carter never stopped talking--she and her science team had the most to do with the SGC's latest success--and Jack was proud of her, as he watched from afar. Only Daniel had any inkling of the conflict in Jack's mind--but when Jack shook his head, looking down into the neck of his bottle of warming beer, Daniel quickly changed the topic. Jack wanted to hug the guy for that, and when he was drunk enough, he finally did.
The thing of it was, Jack really was glad that Baal was gone. The guy was a menace, a danger; he threatened everything Jack loved. But when the party was over, and Jack had seen everyone safely home, he was still restless. And so it was that in the early hours of the morning, Jack found himself back at Cheyenne mountain.
Walter, too, was there, which didn't surprise him. The technician didn't say a word--he dialed the address, opened the gate. Jack tapped out his message slowly, wondering if he'd ever get an answer.
I-D-I-O-T, it read.
Jack waited, his body tense, for Baal to show up.
The hours passed.
Jack went back to his office, and started his day. He prepared his files on the Atlantis expedition--the Daedalus was ready to be shipped off, the ZPM was down in storage and waiting to go. Then he spent the morning checking over the SG mission reports--some of them were same-old, same-old, but a few were genuinely interesting--and he assigned the teams new ones. Later, he read over Carter's report, proudly smug over how great a leader she was turning out to be; he called her into his office, and spent a few quality minutes patting her on the back. Finally, in the later hours of the evening, he stopped by Daniel's office.
"Hey," Jack said, sitting down in 'his' chair.
Daniel nodded at him, squinting at him over his glasses. "Is he...?" he asked softly.
"Nothing," Jack replied.
Then they talked of other things.
Daniel eventually went home, his eyes tired behind his worry, and Jack walked him to the elevator, promising to join him later for pizza and beer. He told Daniel to get some sleep, to take a nap, maybe, and then Jack went back up to his office.
For a long time, he stared at his desk.
Walter wandered in and out of the room, doing whatever it was he did in his absence of a life. Eventually, he stopped in front of Jack.
"We just got this in, sir," he said quietly. "It came with one of the other SG teams, but we didn't find it until now--we weren't looking for it in the right place." He handed Jack a note.
I-N-S-O-L-E-N-C-E, it read.
Jack stared at it for a moment, looked at Walter, and back again.
Then he covered his mouth, hiding his smile.
--------------
--------------
Feedback is always appreciated, because it's CRACK. *g*
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In other news, WEEKEND. Time to read everybody else's fic! *stares at Carolyn-Claire and Otter. And SnoopyGirl's list, OMG.* WHEE!!! And Raven, I'm betaing your story, I swear! I'll have it to you soon!!!!
*headdesk*
Anyway, this is basically a series of connected drabbles, taken from that epic fic that I didn't write--remember me talking about that? Yeah, that one. *g* Hope you enjoy!
Oh, and it probably won't make sense without the first story, Wrong.
CONFLICT OF INTEREST
Right, Then
The clock read 0307.
Jack stared at it, fiddled the pencil in his hand. SG-1 had a few more days before they were due back; it was a dangerous mission, and Jack was holding down the fort for them. Just in case. It didn't make the waiting any easier.
0312
Jack opened a folder, started reading what was inside. Halfway through, he gave up, and trusting Walter, just signed the damn thing. There were about fifteen folders below it; he went through those, too.
0354
Jack fiddled with his pen.
0405
He put down the pen, and fiddled with a pencil.
0407
Jack stared morosely at more paperwork, and decided to leave it for later.
0413
He finally cracked.
On his way down the few stairs to the control room, he heard SG-1's voices in his mind. Daniel's said, Don't you think this is a bit dangerous? Jack told the voice that he could handle it. Carter's had more facts and figures, she pointed out how many times his fitness for command had been scrutinized by the NID, ect, ect--all of them hiding her true concern. Jack told that voice that if the higher-ups hadn't kicked him out already, they weren't going to. Teal'c's was more succinct:
He is, and Jack could just see the glowering features, a false god.
Jack didn't know what to say to that one.
Walter, for his part, only stared at him in that half-disbelieving, half-accusatory manner that he had, but he didn't say anything. He dialed the coordinates as ordered, opened the gate, and with merely a twitch of his cheek, sent Jack's message through.
Jack had tapped it out carefully--Morse code, easy to decipher and with the added benefit of not having to broadcast his voice out to only god knew where. Across the galaxy, far, far away, a number of beeps and dashes were heard:
K-R-E-E-S-P-A-R-K-Y, it read.
Baal showed up a few minutes later.
"You are perhaps," the goa’uld was saying, his hologram shifting and sliding in a way that somehow imitated his obvious annoyance, "the most irritating person I have ever had the displeasure of knowing..."
The control room tensed, looking between them.
Baal's eyes met Jack's, flashing white.
Jack finally broke the silence.
"Sparky!" he cried out, throwing his hands open wide in welcome. "I thought you'd never make it!"
--------------------------
--------------------------
What He Said
"Serpent guards," Teal'c intoned gravely.
Daniel tapped his lips with his fingertips. "Then I think...Baal," he said, a thoughtful frown on his brow. He looked up at them. "Right? Or is it Anubis?"
"No, I think you're right," Carter told him. "I think it's Baal."
"Huh," Jack said.
Daniel looked at him. "Huh?"
Jack stared back, shrugging. After a moment, he got up, went to the Jaffa guarding the door, and tapped him on the shoulder. "Take me to your leader," he said, speaking slowly.
They went.
"Huh," Daniel said, staring after them. He looked around at Teal'c and Sam. "Did anyone else think that was odd?"
--------------------------
"Well, don't you clean up nicely," Jack said upon entering the room.
Baal arched an eyebrow at him, a half-smile flickering briefly across his features. It was a bit weird, Jack thought, seeing him face to face again. The hologram was one thing--it was something out of the past, something he had been used to before thinking of Baal as more than just a creep--so seeing Baal spiffed out in goa'uldy clothing there didn't really catch his interest. In the flesh, though, Baal was...impressive to look at. He had almost forgotten.
"Unfortunately," Baal finally said, his voice droll as he gave Jack a once-over, "you do not."
Jack held up his hands. "Hey, now," he said. "I'm on a mission--I'm not exactly squeaky fresh, here."
Baal's amusement only grew, and he crossed the room, dismissing the guards with a flicker of his eyelids. He reached up, running a single finger along the line of Jack's jaw. "I wouldn't have guessed," he said slowly, and took Jack's mouth with his own.
A light slide of lips, nothing more, gentle and welcoming. They stood that way, still, for a few moments, breathing in each other's breath, taking in the scent of one another, the tangible feeling of their presences. And then all of a sudden, one of Baal's hands was in his hair, yanking his head back, and Jack found himself being bent over the arm being swiftly wrapped around his waist--Baal was bullying him, forcing him to submit with his greater strength--but Jack raked his nails down Baal's body in response, trying to reach him, trying to tear into him, trying to defy him. He found nothing but the tightly molded brocade of Baal's clothing against his fingertips.
When Baal finally let him up for air, Jack laughed softly against him. "You weren't serious about that slave thing, were you?" he said, his voice dropping warningly. "'Cause that really isn't one of my life goals."
Baal ran his fingers though Jack's hair, held him firmly by the back of his neck. "Were you serious about killing me?" he mused, his eyes nothing but amused.
Jack patted his back. "Look, captured," he said. "No killing for now."
"Which I notice doesn't answer my question," Baal murmured, but with a final, pointed kiss, he let Jack go.
Jack looked around, looking for a place to sit. He ended up crossing his legs on Baal's bed--not without a smirk in his direction--but when he spoke again, it was all business. "If you're not doing the slave thing," he said, "which I'm guessing you're not because, hey, you've still got your clothes on, then what is it you're wanting from me?"
Baal rolled his eyes, muttering, "You make it rather difficult for a god to resist," but he was nodding. "There is a situation," he began, crossing his arms thoughtfully, "that I believe would interest the both of us..."
"I want my people up here," Jack interrupted him. His voice was firm, demanding.
After a moment, Baal nodded. "As you wish," he said, and then he called for them.
----------------------------
----------------------------
Not Quite There Yet
Jack ripped a strip off the piece of paper in his hands, and wadded it up into a small ball. He looked at it for a moment, stuck it in his mouth, and stared up at Baal's hologram.
Baal raised an eyebrow.
"You took my ZPM," Jack finally said, spitting out the paper. Then he threw the spitball directly at Baal's face. "It was mine."
The spitball fazed through, Baal blinking irritably as his hologram dissolved and reformed. "I would like to point out," he said, frowning, "that one: a ZPM, as you delightfully call it, is Ancient and not Tau'ri technology..."
Jack scowled at him disbelievingly, and stuck another wad of paper in his mouth.
"...and two," Baal went on, eyeing him, "the device was found on my planet. You're quite lucky that I sent your team back intact in the first place."
The spitball whizzed through the air. Had Baal been real, it would have landed splat on his nose.
"Don't do me any favors," Jack told him, scowling.
Baal arched both of his eyebrows. "You don't appreciate my generosity?" he asked.
Another spitball fizzed through Baal's face. "And quit trying to change the subject."
--------------------------------
--------------------------------
No Habla Goa'uld
Baal flashed into the Gate room. "I suggest you raise your iris," he said calmly, meeting Jack's eyes.
Jack stared at him through the control room window. "What--" he said, reaching for the microphone, and clicked it on. "Baal, it already is. Why--"
"I'm sending a naquadah enhanced bomb through," Baal told him, his voice matter-of-fact, "and if you don't keep your iris raised, all of you will die."
Jack stared at him.
"Oookay," Jack finally said, still speaking through the speakers. "I think I know what this is about--hey. Baal, we agreed--you do your thing, I do mine..."
"You destroyed my palace!" Baal finally told him, fury breaking through the calm in his voice.
"Well, yeah..."
Baal flashed out.
"Wow, he's pissed," Jack muttered under his breath. He turned to Walter. "Our iris is fine, right?"
There was a loud, muffled thump. The Stargate shuddered.
Jack looked at it. "I'm guessing yes," he finally said.
-------------------------
-------------------------
Um, I don't think so
"O'Neill," Baal was saying irritably, "what is it this..."
His holographic eyes suddenly focused within the room, taking in the sight of Daniel Jackson before him. The gate room was darkened, and in the control room above, only the remaining members of SG-1 stared back at him, as well as a short, ugly man who Baal didn't know. "What is the meaning of this?" he finally demanded. "Where is O'Neill?"
Jackson stared at him, his lips pinched tightly. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually," he said.
Baal raised his eyebrows condescendingly. "I cannot imagine that you," he said slowly, "have anything to say to me."
"Well," Jackson told him flatly, and his eyes were hard. "There's a first time for everything, isn't there."
They stared at each other in silence.
"Well," Baal finally asked, irritation clouding his voice. "What is it?"
Jackson tapped his lips, staring at Baal from over his glasses. "It's Jack, he's..." and the man grimaced. "Amatseru has him," he finally said.
Baal felt himself go very, very still. "Does she," he murmured quietly.
Jackson's eyes locked on to his. "Yes."
"And what makes you think I would care?" Baal asked, staring back at him.
"You know her reputation."
Baal crossed his arms. "And?"
"Please," Jackson said, his voice low and angry, "don't even pretend that you don't care about Jack."
Silence fell on the room.
"Why would you do this?" Baal asked finally, narrowing his eyes at the other man. "I have no reason to return him to your people--our truce is ended. What makes you think that I would blithely return him to you, like some kind of servant?"
"I don't."
Baal didn't say anything, merely tilted his head with interest.
"But I'd rather have to rescue him from you, then from her," Jackson continued slowly. "Jack...would be safer that way."
Baal felt his lips twist. "I see."
Daniel Jackson never looked away. "Good."
--------------------------------------
"Funny," Jack says when Baal finds him, "I didn't think I was dreaming."
"You are not dreaming, O'Neill."
"Maybe it's a nightmare?" Jack asks him. "I used to have those, when it came to you."
----------------------------------------
Baal stands naked in the flickering light of the viewscreen, staring silently down at the information it provides. His host is a tall man, strong and defined; the shadows of the darkened room play lovingly over his shoulders, across his lean back. Baal's long fingers are stroking the control panels before him; he is silent, and he doesn't turn around.
Jack watches him from their bed. He's propped up on plush pillows, relaxing in the post-coital glow of being well and truly fucked--Baal, it seems, really gets off on capturing him. And it is capturing, Jack thinks, and not rescuing, despite the fact that being with Baal is much better than being with Amatseru, because it's still not his home, or the SGC, or even Earth. It is, however, very comfortable, and sometimes, Jack finds himself thinking that maybe, just maybe, he could grow accustomed to it, too.
"It's them," Jack finally says, his voice soft. "Isn't it?"
Baal taps the control panel; it fades away, and he is left standing in darkness. "Intruders have been detected in the glider bay," he says, and his voice is low, unreadable. "Undoubtedly, they are your friends."
Jack nods, crushing the silk sheet covering him between in his fists. "That's what I'd guess, yeah," he says.
The room is silent for a moment longer--Baal is staring at him, Jack thinks, and he wonders if goa'uld enhanced vision is enough to conquer the sleepy darkness of the room. Suddenly, however, the bed dips, and Jack feels Baal crawling above him, feels as Baal lowers himself down upon Jack's body, the silk sheet smooth between their naked forms. "You will try to go with them," Baal finally says, and he strokes Jack's face lightly, possessively.
"Yes," Jack tells him quietly. "I will."
Baal kisses him, a gentle and fleeting thing. "I will attempt to prevent it, of course," he says, and Jack remembers the days and nights of the week past, Baal's fingers bruising his hips, Baal's voice harsh--"Mine. Mine. Mine"--while he thrust hard into Jack's body. "But it occurs to me that you have escaped me before."
Jack closes his eyes at the memory.
"I could teach you," Baal continues, and his voice is quiet, surprisingly sincere. "I could help you learn to worship me, to adore me as your god..." Gathering Jack tightly in his arms, he twists and twines them together until there is no room at all left between their bodies, and he kisses him, a furious and desperate thing. "O'Neill," Baal finally breathes into Jack's mouth, "I could teach you the pleasure in it."
"I know," Jack tells him softly.
Then Jack kisses him again--to shut him up.
It's easier that way, for the both of them.
-------------------------
-------------------------
Later, Maybe
When Baal's fleet was finally destroyed, the ships and gliders spread out in pieces across a distant part of the galaxy, Jack threw a party.
Everyone from the SGC came--it had been a close call, Baal had come just this close to taking over the Earth. Teal'c's broad smile lit up the room, his vindictive glee broadcasting the general feeling in the room. Carter never stopped talking--she and her science team had the most to do with the SGC's latest success--and Jack was proud of her, as he watched from afar. Only Daniel had any inkling of the conflict in Jack's mind--but when Jack shook his head, looking down into the neck of his bottle of warming beer, Daniel quickly changed the topic. Jack wanted to hug the guy for that, and when he was drunk enough, he finally did.
The thing of it was, Jack really was glad that Baal was gone. The guy was a menace, a danger; he threatened everything Jack loved. But when the party was over, and Jack had seen everyone safely home, he was still restless. And so it was that in the early hours of the morning, Jack found himself back at Cheyenne mountain.
Walter, too, was there, which didn't surprise him. The technician didn't say a word--he dialed the address, opened the gate. Jack tapped out his message slowly, wondering if he'd ever get an answer.
I-D-I-O-T, it read.
Jack waited, his body tense, for Baal to show up.
The hours passed.
Jack went back to his office, and started his day. He prepared his files on the Atlantis expedition--the Daedalus was ready to be shipped off, the ZPM was down in storage and waiting to go. Then he spent the morning checking over the SG mission reports--some of them were same-old, same-old, but a few were genuinely interesting--and he assigned the teams new ones. Later, he read over Carter's report, proudly smug over how great a leader she was turning out to be; he called her into his office, and spent a few quality minutes patting her on the back. Finally, in the later hours of the evening, he stopped by Daniel's office.
"Hey," Jack said, sitting down in 'his' chair.
Daniel nodded at him, squinting at him over his glasses. "Is he...?" he asked softly.
"Nothing," Jack replied.
Then they talked of other things.
Daniel eventually went home, his eyes tired behind his worry, and Jack walked him to the elevator, promising to join him later for pizza and beer. He told Daniel to get some sleep, to take a nap, maybe, and then Jack went back up to his office.
For a long time, he stared at his desk.
Walter wandered in and out of the room, doing whatever it was he did in his absence of a life. Eventually, he stopped in front of Jack.
"We just got this in, sir," he said quietly. "It came with one of the other SG teams, but we didn't find it until now--we weren't looking for it in the right place." He handed Jack a note.
I-N-S-O-L-E-N-C-E, it read.
Jack stared at it for a moment, looked at Walter, and back again.
Then he covered his mouth, hiding his smile.
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Feedback is always appreciated, because it's CRACK. *g*
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In other news, WEEKEND. Time to read everybody else's fic! *stares at Carolyn-Claire and Otter. And SnoopyGirl's list, OMG.* WHEE!!! And Raven, I'm betaing your story, I swear! I'll have it to you soon!!!!