ficrepost: "Gilt" Jack/Daniel/Sam
Title: "Gilt"
Fandom: Stargate: SG-1
Featured characters: Jack O'Neill, Daniel Jackson, Sam Carter, and a cameo from Teal'c.
Do they (want to) have sex (with each other)?: Jack/Daniel/Sam. Yes.
Other pairings mentioned: Daniel/Sha're, as per canon.
Rating: R
Warnings: Completely gratuitous drag.
Spoilers/Timeline: In my mind, it was set some time in S3.
Disclaimer: MGM, not me.
Notes: Written for elke_tanzer in 3_ships 2006/7, who requested this or some other intra-SG-1 threesome with gold or copper colored happy dust and as little clothing as possible.
Summary: "The universe lies before you on the floor, in the air, in the mysterious bodies of your dancers, in your mind. From this voyage no one returns poor or weary." - Agnes De Mille
Words: 1662
Gilt
Closing behind them, the Stargate is the only bright thing on a field of dull copper, flat miles in every direction covered with something sturdier than dust but grainier than grass, mossy mud that sticks to their boots as they fall easily into their side-by-side strides, three soldiers and Daniel, who as always breaks a perfect and companionable silence, pointing past the horizon. "Did you see that?"
"Natives?" Jack asks, his body loosening automatically, his safety flicked open with Daniel's voice.
"I'm not sure," Daniel says. His step falters; he stops and shades his eyes. "I thought I saw something." His voice is higher than he intended; the silhouette of a dark-haired woman beckoning is forever familiar; she always lures him over the next hill, through just one more wormhole. Her laugh snaps like a whip on the vein of his neck, and he finds himself running through sludge, tripping over quicksand and faltering. The world is a flattened vowel, vulgar on his tongue; she is always just around the corner of the cornerless landscape, just out of reach of his senses. Every horizon curves like Sha're's back, but this world has no bend, no variegation, only Kansas-flat desert under Daniel's feet and blinding his eyes. He stumbles up a hill, invisible until he's reached its bare peak, and thinks he sees, in the far-away, the glint of teeth when her mouth is wide with laughter. But when he reaches the receding point where he last saw her, there's no one but Jack, lips quirked upward into an approximate smile.
"What was it this time?" he asks, not cruelly. "Mastodon again?"
Daniel catches his breath, and uses the moment to still his heart. "Nothing apparently. I should really… should get my prescription checked." He makes a production of rubbing the dust and astigmatism from his eyes, sneezes forcefully, and reaches out for Jack's shoulder to steady himself. His hand slips through Jack's arm and lands on the burning golden sand with a sizzle. When he looks up, Jack is grinning.
"Gotcha."
"I'm going to kill you," Daniel says, pushing himself to his feet.
"Give you a hand?"
Daniel reaches up, pulls Jack down to the ground with him. Jack's hand, bony and rough, grips Daniel too hard, and he can't remember what he was chasing when Jack's chafed lips kiss his.
++
Colonel O'Neill sighs. "Would you go after him, Carter? He can't have gotten far, can he?" It's rhetorical, of course - Daniel wandered away fifteen minutes ago, and if experience teaches, he's probably light-years gone by now, captured by the natives and probably engaged.
Sam shakes her head and smiles ruefully. "Yes sir."
"We've got your six," the Colonel tells her. "Don't worry." He almost winks, but it's probably the dust.
God, it's dusty, Sam mutters into the still, dry air. And before she can quite help herself, she's bent to scoop a handful into the flask she has in her pack for just this purpose. She shakes the flask gently, watching dark gold flecks that aren't quite sand settle themselves evenly over the Teflon surface, changing from almost brown to bright brick red with the sun's reflection. She laughs at herself, and looks over her shoulder to see if Colonel O'Neill is laughing too, but if he is, she can't see him: the horizon is empty in every direction.
She plugs the flask carefully, stuffs it into her pack, and waits for the rush of adrenaline that will reorient her, direct her feet towards the 'Gate or towards Daniel, but the rush never comes, and her step is careless, her mouth dry, her fingers itching for equipment. Just fifteen minutes, she tells herself, and happily sets up a makeshift lab, testing the air and the ground for traces of naquada, for the salt that means an ocean still recedes in the infinite distance, gold dust, diamond powder, anything that might be a clue (or render profit, because, after all, Sam belongs to the US government).
"I was sitting at my desk counting my blessings when a beautiful dame walked through the door and ruined everything," Daniel says, and Sam, kneeling over a bunsen burner, smiles upward. "You look investigative. Any idea where we are?"
"None at all," she says, and can't keep the smile out of her voice. "If we could have a month or two on this planet "
"It'll be SG-11," Daniel reminds her.
"I'll protest if you protest. Tell Colonel O'Neill you quit."
"You tell him."
Sam considers the look on O'Neill's face when she requests downtime and pulls a face that makes Daniel smile. She purses her lips in a tighter pout for the pleasure of Daniel's answering grin.
"It's all masquerade with him anyhow," Daniel says, and twirls out the skirt of his ballgown. "Dance?"
Sam rocks back on her heels and almost knocks her lab over in her eagerness to topple into Daniel's arms; she puts one hand on his bare shoulder and the other around his waist, cinched tight.
"You look incredible," she says.
"I'd better. You wouldn't believe how much this thing hurts."
"I guess I'm leading?"
"I'm not promising I'll follow," he says, and whatever he's about to say next is muffled by Sam's kiss.
++
"I'll flip ya for it," O'Neill offers.
"No."
"No fun," O'Neill says, rolling his eyes. "You see anything?"
Nothing but sand in every direction. He can hear the marching of foot soldiers, an army strong enough to rise up and overthrow the system lords thrice over, and his heartbeat quickens, but he recognizes that the sounds are not real.
"I do not." O'Neill says nothing, and Teal'c feels compelled to add, "Be cautious. The planet lies."
"Yeah, well, I don't hear it saying anything. I'm going after them."
It would be deeply unwise to leave DanielJackson and MajorCarter to their illusions, so Teal'c offers no caution as he watches O'Neill disappear over the same hill that claimed their teammates.
The universe deceives, and the Tau'ri must learn, which is cold comfort but the only forgiveness Teal'c can offer himself.
++
Jack expects nothing from the desert and nothing from the sand, certainly not the laughter of one boy's voice as he topples tiny civilizations with a toy bulldozer. "Come play with me!"
"Coming," he says, trying not to sound harried. "I'll be there in a minute." And then, "I'm coming, kiddo." He kneels, winces involuntarily, and runs a dump truck through the dust, leaving tiny ribbed tire tracks shaped by parallax.
"You're not doing it right."
"Oh yeah?"
"Make the noise!"
"What noise does a dump truck make, Colonel?"
He looks up, and sees nyloned legs slinking up into the tight blue skirt of a dress uniform. She's not wearing a bra. Or a shirt.
Maybe it's a good thing Charlie's gone.
"Looking good," he offers, neutral.
She smiles, leans backwards, and seats herself on a red wooden swing. "Would you give me a push?"
He presses his hands between her shoulder blades and pushes gently, but she soars until she's nothing but a glimmer in the distance, bright like naquada or the rims of Daniel's glasses reflected in an event horizon. When she returns, she's lost the skirt.
"You're missing something."
"Oh right," she says, and Jack pulls way back and lets go, loses her to the sky again. She returns with Daniel this time, looking windblown and slightly effeminate in a blue serge suit.
"You had something to say to me?" he asks mildly.
Jack hesitates, unnerved by Carter's breasts, Daniel's bright lips. "Are you wearing lipstick?"
"Maybe."
"That's…"
"Yes?" Daniel blinks disarmingly, and Jack doesn't know who strikes first, but they're on the ground, and he's clawing at Daniel's suit, breaking seams and popping buttons, biting at lipstick that's slightly powdery in his mouth. He straddles Daniel's waist, pins his arms to the sand, is torn between pummeling him and kissing him again, when someone, surprisingly strong, pulls him off.
It's Daniel.
++
"Is this part real?" asks Sam, and Daniel nods. At least, he's pretty sure it's real, because Jack looks pained and Sam confused, and everyone's fully clothed again. His lips are raw from kissing.
"Good," says Jack, and stands up.
"Hallucinogens," says Sam. "We'll take them back to the SGC to be tested more fully. But, uh. Maybe this isn't the best mission report to show to the President."
"Yes," Daniel agrees.
"I don't know what you're talking about," says Jack, rubbing his mouth, stained red.
"I don't want to know," Daniel says, looking pointedly at Jack's lips. He's not entirely able to keep an edge of jealousy from his voice.
"That you wore scarlet lipstick while I held you down?" Jack says, and Daniel can't quite tell if he's kidding or if he's looking at Sam as he says it.
"I don't believe you held me down and didn't know it was your imagination."
While Jack fumbles over that, Sam asks, "What did you see, Daniel?"
He tells her, "Sha're," which is easier, and she relaxes visibly. "You?"
"The universe, through the wrong end of a telescope," she says. "And you in a ballgown."
"I don't… is there something about me in drag?"
"It's probably just the dust," Sam says.
Daniel puts his arms around himself without thinking, and glances towards where the Stargate should be. Still nothing. Sam takes a compass out of her pack, and he and Jack exchange looks. They each grab a shoulder and wrestle her to the ground; Jack knocks the compass loose from her hand and it falls, spinning uselessly two meters away from the place in the sand where they've fallen, Sam's legs spread wide, Jack's knees creaking, Daniel cozying close to both, one hand up Sam's shirt even while he's still undecided whether to kiss (which?) first or to believe this too, like every teasing glance before, is the universe's deception.
He chooses Jack.
Fandom: Stargate: SG-1
Featured characters: Jack O'Neill, Daniel Jackson, Sam Carter, and a cameo from Teal'c.
Do they (want to) have sex (with each other)?: Jack/Daniel/Sam. Yes.
Other pairings mentioned: Daniel/Sha're, as per canon.
Rating: R
Warnings: Completely gratuitous drag.
Spoilers/Timeline: In my mind, it was set some time in S3.
Disclaimer: MGM, not me.
Notes: Written for elke_tanzer in 3_ships 2006/7, who requested this or some other intra-SG-1 threesome with gold or copper colored happy dust and as little clothing as possible.
Summary: "The universe lies before you on the floor, in the air, in the mysterious bodies of your dancers, in your mind. From this voyage no one returns poor or weary." - Agnes De Mille
Words: 1662
Gilt
Closing behind them, the Stargate is the only bright thing on a field of dull copper, flat miles in every direction covered with something sturdier than dust but grainier than grass, mossy mud that sticks to their boots as they fall easily into their side-by-side strides, three soldiers and Daniel, who as always breaks a perfect and companionable silence, pointing past the horizon. "Did you see that?"
"Natives?" Jack asks, his body loosening automatically, his safety flicked open with Daniel's voice.
"I'm not sure," Daniel says. His step falters; he stops and shades his eyes. "I thought I saw something." His voice is higher than he intended; the silhouette of a dark-haired woman beckoning is forever familiar; she always lures him over the next hill, through just one more wormhole. Her laugh snaps like a whip on the vein of his neck, and he finds himself running through sludge, tripping over quicksand and faltering. The world is a flattened vowel, vulgar on his tongue; she is always just around the corner of the cornerless landscape, just out of reach of his senses. Every horizon curves like Sha're's back, but this world has no bend, no variegation, only Kansas-flat desert under Daniel's feet and blinding his eyes. He stumbles up a hill, invisible until he's reached its bare peak, and thinks he sees, in the far-away, the glint of teeth when her mouth is wide with laughter. But when he reaches the receding point where he last saw her, there's no one but Jack, lips quirked upward into an approximate smile.
"What was it this time?" he asks, not cruelly. "Mastodon again?"
Daniel catches his breath, and uses the moment to still his heart. "Nothing apparently. I should really… should get my prescription checked." He makes a production of rubbing the dust and astigmatism from his eyes, sneezes forcefully, and reaches out for Jack's shoulder to steady himself. His hand slips through Jack's arm and lands on the burning golden sand with a sizzle. When he looks up, Jack is grinning.
"Gotcha."
"I'm going to kill you," Daniel says, pushing himself to his feet.
"Give you a hand?"
Daniel reaches up, pulls Jack down to the ground with him. Jack's hand, bony and rough, grips Daniel too hard, and he can't remember what he was chasing when Jack's chafed lips kiss his.
++
Colonel O'Neill sighs. "Would you go after him, Carter? He can't have gotten far, can he?" It's rhetorical, of course - Daniel wandered away fifteen minutes ago, and if experience teaches, he's probably light-years gone by now, captured by the natives and probably engaged.
Sam shakes her head and smiles ruefully. "Yes sir."
"We've got your six," the Colonel tells her. "Don't worry." He almost winks, but it's probably the dust.
God, it's dusty, Sam mutters into the still, dry air. And before she can quite help herself, she's bent to scoop a handful into the flask she has in her pack for just this purpose. She shakes the flask gently, watching dark gold flecks that aren't quite sand settle themselves evenly over the Teflon surface, changing from almost brown to bright brick red with the sun's reflection. She laughs at herself, and looks over her shoulder to see if Colonel O'Neill is laughing too, but if he is, she can't see him: the horizon is empty in every direction.
She plugs the flask carefully, stuffs it into her pack, and waits for the rush of adrenaline that will reorient her, direct her feet towards the 'Gate or towards Daniel, but the rush never comes, and her step is careless, her mouth dry, her fingers itching for equipment. Just fifteen minutes, she tells herself, and happily sets up a makeshift lab, testing the air and the ground for traces of naquada, for the salt that means an ocean still recedes in the infinite distance, gold dust, diamond powder, anything that might be a clue (or render profit, because, after all, Sam belongs to the US government).
"I was sitting at my desk counting my blessings when a beautiful dame walked through the door and ruined everything," Daniel says, and Sam, kneeling over a bunsen burner, smiles upward. "You look investigative. Any idea where we are?"
"None at all," she says, and can't keep the smile out of her voice. "If we could have a month or two on this planet "
"It'll be SG-11," Daniel reminds her.
"I'll protest if you protest. Tell Colonel O'Neill you quit."
"You tell him."
Sam considers the look on O'Neill's face when she requests downtime and pulls a face that makes Daniel smile. She purses her lips in a tighter pout for the pleasure of Daniel's answering grin.
"It's all masquerade with him anyhow," Daniel says, and twirls out the skirt of his ballgown. "Dance?"
Sam rocks back on her heels and almost knocks her lab over in her eagerness to topple into Daniel's arms; she puts one hand on his bare shoulder and the other around his waist, cinched tight.
"You look incredible," she says.
"I'd better. You wouldn't believe how much this thing hurts."
"I guess I'm leading?"
"I'm not promising I'll follow," he says, and whatever he's about to say next is muffled by Sam's kiss.
++
"I'll flip ya for it," O'Neill offers.
"No."
"No fun," O'Neill says, rolling his eyes. "You see anything?"
Nothing but sand in every direction. He can hear the marching of foot soldiers, an army strong enough to rise up and overthrow the system lords thrice over, and his heartbeat quickens, but he recognizes that the sounds are not real.
"I do not." O'Neill says nothing, and Teal'c feels compelled to add, "Be cautious. The planet lies."
"Yeah, well, I don't hear it saying anything. I'm going after them."
It would be deeply unwise to leave DanielJackson and MajorCarter to their illusions, so Teal'c offers no caution as he watches O'Neill disappear over the same hill that claimed their teammates.
The universe deceives, and the Tau'ri must learn, which is cold comfort but the only forgiveness Teal'c can offer himself.
++
Jack expects nothing from the desert and nothing from the sand, certainly not the laughter of one boy's voice as he topples tiny civilizations with a toy bulldozer. "Come play with me!"
"Coming," he says, trying not to sound harried. "I'll be there in a minute." And then, "I'm coming, kiddo." He kneels, winces involuntarily, and runs a dump truck through the dust, leaving tiny ribbed tire tracks shaped by parallax.
"You're not doing it right."
"Oh yeah?"
"Make the noise!"
"What noise does a dump truck make, Colonel?"
He looks up, and sees nyloned legs slinking up into the tight blue skirt of a dress uniform. She's not wearing a bra. Or a shirt.
Maybe it's a good thing Charlie's gone.
"Looking good," he offers, neutral.
She smiles, leans backwards, and seats herself on a red wooden swing. "Would you give me a push?"
He presses his hands between her shoulder blades and pushes gently, but she soars until she's nothing but a glimmer in the distance, bright like naquada or the rims of Daniel's glasses reflected in an event horizon. When she returns, she's lost the skirt.
"You're missing something."
"Oh right," she says, and Jack pulls way back and lets go, loses her to the sky again. She returns with Daniel this time, looking windblown and slightly effeminate in a blue serge suit.
"You had something to say to me?" he asks mildly.
Jack hesitates, unnerved by Carter's breasts, Daniel's bright lips. "Are you wearing lipstick?"
"Maybe."
"That's…"
"Yes?" Daniel blinks disarmingly, and Jack doesn't know who strikes first, but they're on the ground, and he's clawing at Daniel's suit, breaking seams and popping buttons, biting at lipstick that's slightly powdery in his mouth. He straddles Daniel's waist, pins his arms to the sand, is torn between pummeling him and kissing him again, when someone, surprisingly strong, pulls him off.
It's Daniel.
++
"Is this part real?" asks Sam, and Daniel nods. At least, he's pretty sure it's real, because Jack looks pained and Sam confused, and everyone's fully clothed again. His lips are raw from kissing.
"Good," says Jack, and stands up.
"Hallucinogens," says Sam. "We'll take them back to the SGC to be tested more fully. But, uh. Maybe this isn't the best mission report to show to the President."
"Yes," Daniel agrees.
"I don't know what you're talking about," says Jack, rubbing his mouth, stained red.
"I don't want to know," Daniel says, looking pointedly at Jack's lips. He's not entirely able to keep an edge of jealousy from his voice.
"That you wore scarlet lipstick while I held you down?" Jack says, and Daniel can't quite tell if he's kidding or if he's looking at Sam as he says it.
"I don't believe you held me down and didn't know it was your imagination."
While Jack fumbles over that, Sam asks, "What did you see, Daniel?"
He tells her, "Sha're," which is easier, and she relaxes visibly. "You?"
"The universe, through the wrong end of a telescope," she says. "And you in a ballgown."
"I don't… is there something about me in drag?"
"It's probably just the dust," Sam says.
Daniel puts his arms around himself without thinking, and glances towards where the Stargate should be. Still nothing. Sam takes a compass out of her pack, and he and Jack exchange looks. They each grab a shoulder and wrestle her to the ground; Jack knocks the compass loose from her hand and it falls, spinning uselessly two meters away from the place in the sand where they've fallen, Sam's legs spread wide, Jack's knees creaking, Daniel cozying close to both, one hand up Sam's shirt even while he's still undecided whether to kiss (which?) first or to believe this too, like every teasing glance before, is the universe's deception.
He chooses Jack.