This is the first story I wrote and it would never have been done at all if not for Pie who encouraged, pleaded and finally threatened. This is for you Pie, until I write one you like more. Thank you BJ and AnnO, the best cheerleaders around. And thanks to Pepe for the final beta that made it shine.

Jack

Well, it's one of Daniel's diplomat-hat days. He's been meeting and greeting with these folk, the Cadith, for over four hours now. I listened... for the first ten minutes or so. I tried, really I did, but making nice with people is just not my thing. In fact, I think consensus of opinion on base has that Teal'c does a better line in suck-up than me! Don't get me wrong, I could listen to Daniel for hours at a time, but it's more for the sound of his voice than the actual words. If Daniel is talking it means he is not sick, injured, dead or sulking, so that's all right with me. It's when he's quiet I worry; there's nothing more unnerving than a quiet linguist. It means Daniel is scared, tired, hurt or angry, all things guaranteed to bury the needle on the O'Neill tension meter. Yep, that's me: Colonel Jack O'Neill, warrior of great skill and cunning, hard assed, macho USAF Colonel, who just happens to think that the sun rises and sets with a certain myopic, allergy-ridden, boonie-wearing geek... not that he has a clue, thank God!

I'm watching him do his stuff right now. Earnest and sincere are words that could have been created for Daniel, but he looks a little edgy; none of his usual smiles or excited gestures. I slide closer to the table where Daniel is talking with the three Cadith negotiators. He's nodding, agreeing with them, so why doesn't he look happy? Come on, Daniel! We need this one to count. I know he's doing his best, he never does any less, but the General was quite clear on this one. We want the Cadith on board. They have Trinium deposits, advanced medicines and technology, and although I haven't seen any guns of a big and honkin' persuasion, I'm a hopeful man.

I move a little further around to where I can see his face more clearly... to gauge the progress being made, you understand.

Look at him, focused, intent. He never gives less than 100% attention to his task. It's why he gets shot so often. And blown up. And killed. And that's why I don't retire, busted up knees an' all. I don't trust anyone else to stop that from happening to him. Need to know he's okay, and if he's not, I need to be there with him. So, all the time he's tripping merrily through the gate, I'll be right there with him.

That's what friends do.

Right?

Weird planet this is. The folks are friendly enough but kind of reserved in a quiet and efficient sort of way. No-one shouts, no-one runs and no-one laughs, it's all way too civilised. The city we are in now, Apesh is one of many, apparently, and it's stunning. All stone-built from an oddly purplish quartz. There's no litter or un-mown grass, no rough neighbourhoods and frankly it's making my skin crawl. I mean, Hell! Even the fields we passed on the way here were all perfect right angles. It makes me want to sing the rudest song I know (and I know a few) at the top of my lungs, just to see what they'd do.

Anyhow, Daniel has found some common tongue for us to communicate in and within a coupe of hours they are speaking something even I can understand - bet Daniel thinks that's fascinating.

Daniel

Interesting people the Cadith. They've been Goa'uld free for three centuries, so now all we need to do is get them to tell us how. I know Jack's hoping for a really big gun. He doesn't change... no, that's not fair. He's not the closed-off, hard bastard who I knew on Abydos. That wasn't really him though. I knew it was a veneer the moment he stopped his men from beating up on me. It was the Charlie fall-out, the only way to hold himself together after his son died. I can only imagine what that was like. I mean, I've known loss but... anyway, layer at a time he has come back. Each time we step through the gate, more of him is available to me... us.

To us.

I know where he is, my Jack Proximity Sense on high alert. It helps when you have an office full of artefacts and a bored Colonel. He's just out of my line of vision to my right, making a wide non-threatening arc around the room. He'll be risk assessing if I know Jack. Is that man ever "at ease"?

Okay, so the tallest guy... Petrocles... is insisting that this is the only way to progress negotiations. Some kind of lie inhibitor... had trouble with that word... apparently no common root. He was getting impatient and unsettled by my resistance. I've agreed to submit to it. They want to know that we have no malicious intent behind our requests for information and assistance. We don't, it's strictly for use against the Goa'uld. It's not like we're looking to conquer the Cadith, so I'm safe to take this test to prove it. And Jack is right here. What can go wrong? They'll be satisfied we're no threat to them, we'll chat, we'll go and Hammond will send in the diplomats to hammer out details. Job done! SG1 shoot, they score!

I've been spending way too much time around Jack O'Neill.

I can see Jack now. He's pretending to study the wall hangings but he's not, he's guarding... me! Sam and Teal'c at least have the decency to make it less obvious. I like these missions, where I can be of use. Not just "Dial us home, Daniel" or "Daniel, you're with me", the civilian liability. Jack's watching me now, he's not pretending anymore.

What IS that look?

Jack

Would they think it rude if I got my yo-yo out? Still talking, yadda, yadda. Come on, Daniel. Dammit, he's looking straight at me. I quickly roll my eyes at him and try to look stern. Crap, he's coming over; the pow-wow is finally breaking up.

"Jack, I think we're making progress," Daniel says, stuffing his hands in his pockets and stretching the kinks out of his neck. I look politely interested and gesture for him to continue. They need assurances of our, ah... intentions," he adds.

Why do I have a sinking feeling? "A contract, treaty, marriage proposal, what?" I ask.

"No, uh actually..."

Here it comes…

"It's some kind of neural inhibitor they administer," he continues. "It suppresses your ability to lie. Kind of cuts out the bit of your brain that filters what you say. So any of their questions will produce an immediate, truthful response, without dissembling, hedging or ... ah, spin," he finishes, looking at me expectantly.

"No," I say simply.

"Jack..."

"No, Daniel!" I snap. "No drugs, no messing with our heads, no interrogations."

He looks at me wearily, like we've been here before. "They won't negotiate with us without it, Jack. It's how all their business transactions and legal proceedings take place," he announces. There's no colour in his voice, just plain statement of fact. Damn it!

I look over to where Carter and Teal'c are standing; alert to my mood, they move toward us.

"I've volunteered," Daniel states quietly, as they reach us.

"For what?" asks Carter, looking from my tense face to Daniel's determined one.

"Daniel's gonna let the Cadith stick him with a truth drug and sing like a birdy," I spit. I hate having no options. We need what they've got; if there's any chance they're willing to share we need to take it.

"And if they ask for sensitive information?" Carter asks.

" You'll be here to make sure I don't provide it," Daniel shrugs.

Oh Goody! My boy is going to be drugged, spill his guts and I get to silence him if it all gets too up close and personal. I wipe a hand across my face and sigh. Does it have to be Daniel? I shove that uncharitable thought back down hard.

Daniel

Jack is pissed and worried. So much for his game face, he can't fool a guy who has seen him at euphoric, desolate and all points in between. He knows this has to happen, but he's scared I'll give them the GDO codes or something. I try to catch his eye to let him know that... what? It'll be okay? That I have a feeling we can trust the Cadith? That it will make General Hammond's day? That I'm not afraid because he'll be here with me and there's no-one I trust more? He won't look at me.

The Cadith are reconvening, the guy they sent to get the drug has returned and they are ready to go.

"It's your call, Jack," I say gently. He swipes a large, capable hand over his face and I catch myself wondering how that must feel.

"Okay," he barks, head down, drawing us all into a huddle. "All questions are to be posed totally in English. Ditto replies. If at any time you feel uncomfortable, just say the word and we are gone. Teal'c, you've got our six, cover the exit. Carter, you help the Cadith with any linguistic issues they might have..."

"Sir...?" Sam starts, but Jack holds up a warning finger.

"Try, Major," he insists.

Sam shoots me a miserable look. I try to smile encouragement, but now this is all happening, I'm suddenly nervous. Have I thought of every angle?

"Daniel, are you sure about this?" Jack asks low and gently, finally looking at me - and there it is again... that look. I nod. Truth is I'm not happy about any drug in me except the antihistamines, but the Cadith are human, and have assured me it's safe.

"Doctor Jackson, are you prepared?" asks Petrocles from behind our tight little bunch. A quick smile into Jack's eyes and I step toward the guy with the meds. Petrocles goes first and I watch as a small copper coloured metallic button is pressed into the skin of the neck behind his ear. An amber light starts to glow in the centre of the device.

"This both administers the drug and monitors your reaction to it," Petrocles tells me as two of his colleagues are similarly fitted. "When the drug is at its optimum efficiency, this light will become clear... no white," he explains, fumbling for the words.

The guy with the buttons waits for my nod, before he clicks one into my neck.

Jack

"You okay?" I ask immediately Daniel has been tagged. He raises his hand to run long fingers over the button, but he nods quickly. How do you feel?" I press.

"Fine, totally normal," Daniel replies.

"So, is that like fine for you or fine like everyone else?" I couldn't resist. Daniel gives me his "Shut up, Jack" look.

"The drug will take some time to become effective," Petri dish informs us.

"And how long is it effective for?" Carter questions, watching Daniel worriedly.

"As I told Dr. Jackson, we administer an antidote as soon as negotiations are concluded, but the drug does wear off by itself over a period of sixty of your days."

I cast a venomous look at my team linguist. Sixty days? Either he knew this and neglected to mention it, or he forgot to ask. He has the good grace to wince at my displeasure and then follows up with a tiny tentative smile, a ‘too late now' kind of smile. I give him a look which is unmistakeably ‘We'll discuss this later'.

"So how long before we can start?" I ask, looking at my watch to see what time it is on Earth.

"It can take up to forty of your hours," the technician guy with the drugs tells us.

"Oh..." says Daniel in what must be one of his better understatements. He looks surprised.

"Forty hours?" I yelp. I turn to look at Daniel. He looks at me like I'm gonna slap him or something.

"I didn't realise... I assumed that..."

I may just have to slap him.

"You are welcome to stay as our guests until we are ready," Petri-dish offers, reacting to the sudden tension.

"No, thank you," I say with my least sincere smile. "We need to report in, get some rest, eat omething, hang out..."

"We will return when the white light has become apparent," Teal'c says, inclining his head in farewell. We all turn towards the door as Daniel says goodbye and shoulders his pack.

"But, Colonel O'Neill, your device is not yet fitted."

I freeze in mid stride.

Daniel spins on his heel. "Wha... what?" he stutters.

I slowly turn to face the tall Cadith. Excuse me?" I ask, quite calmly, I feel, under the circumstances.

Petro-chemical looks confused. "Doctor Jackson, he is not of military rank?" he questions.

"No, no I'm a civilian," Daniel offers.

"So you would not be privy to tactical or militaristic objectives?"

"N... n... no." Daniel is floundering "But..."

Way ahead of you, Dannyboy. They want their truth from someone in the know. Not a diplomat, but a soldier.

Daniel

So that went well.

Chalk up one to the linguistic skills of SG-1's fourth member!

Jack refused point blank to the tag, which made the Cadith wary and puzzled. God! Could he have been any ruder? Sam, bless her, immediately offered to take the device, but both the Cadith and Jack vetoed it.

So here we are, walking back to the gate and I'm watching Jack's rigid back. There are tangible waves of disapproval coming off him, enough to have me feeling almost sick with the anticipation of them landing on me.

Which they will.

As they should.

Of course I should have understood the time the drug would need to work, but the military negotiator? That came out of the blue. They explained their position clearly and calmly and when Jack had finished his hissy fit and shared his views on their parentage, we agreed to return in thirty-six hours with a suitably high-ranking military representative. I know that this oversight was an honest mistake, lost in translation if you will, but it's Jack's job to be suspicious and he's good at it! If nothing else, the Cadith have learned some colourful new vocabulary today courtesy of a pissy, tense Colonel.

I am so busy watching my feet and keeping out of Jack's line of vision, I almost run into him when we reach the gate. He scowls at me, although I didn't actually touch him. Right, out of his space, Jackson, if you value your limbs. Only Jack has this ability to make me feel like I'm twelve years old again, awkward, clumsy and stupid.

"George is gonna love this," Jack mutters. "What a joke!"

"Perhaps, O'Neill, your demeanour when you deliver your briefing, could convey a more positive aspect on these negotiations," Teal'c ponders.

"Yes, if you stop acting like a petulant kid," I agree. The stony silence that greets my throwaway remark brings me up short. What the hell?

"Excuse me?" Jack asks, moving dangerously into my space now. "You think I am behaving...?"

"Not me," I yelp. "It was Sam." I watch as Sam's face turns an unattractive shade of grey before two spots of crimson start at her jaw and quickly overtake her face and neck. Her mouth is working, but she's not saying anything. Her eyes are shocked and injured, staring from me to Jack and back again. Jack turns to Sam, his face a study in royally pissed off.

"Carter?" he invites smoothly.

"Sir, I... I was..." Sam lapses into a miserable silence, shooting reproachful glances at me. Only Teal'c is unperturbed.

"I believe Daniel Jackson is beginning to feel the effects of the Cadith drug," he states, and I swear I see a smile.

Jack

To say that the atmosphere in the Briefing Room was strained is like saying that Teal'c is a quiet guy, understatement of the year. Carter was doing her best to smooth over our difference of opinion at the gate and annoying the hell out of me in the process. George was becoming more tense by the moment as we tried to get a coherent report across to him, while still grinding our respective axes. Teal'c addressed all his questions directly at Daniel, all the while exuding an air of mild amusement. And Daniel, well other than glaring at Teal'c's every utterance, he managed to insult Carter (good man), irritate me even more (little shit) and push the General's buttons to the extent that we were all dismissed to the Infirmary in double quick time.

Our boy fared no better in the Infirmary though. Janet was doing her usual routine and all was going smoothly until she was discussing Daniel's PET scans.

"What we can see here is a repressed response in the language and processing centres of Dr Jackson's brain, General," she told Hammond, who had obviously calmed down enough to rejoin the fray.

"What does that mean, Doctor?" he asked.

"She doesn't know for sure," Daniel replied immediately, his eyes becoming wilder each time he uttered.

The small, but perfectly formed doctor shot him a withering glance. "It means," Janet said pointedly, "Daniel says the first thing that pops into his head, no tact, no diplomacy, no packaging, plain hard truths only, Sir."

"So he is not responsible for these somewhat blunt responses," George continued, looking hard at the obviously mortified archaeologist. Janet shook her head.

"How do you feel, son?" The General asked Daniel.

"Bored," Daniel said quickly, his eyes widening in horror again, "Sir'," he added, dropping his gaze to the floor and pinching the bridge of his nose. Hell, even I felt sorry for him by now and not fifteen minutes before I would happily have punched him out for the annoying little bastard he was being.

"If you're done, Doc, I think I'll take Dannyboy to his office, less people there to insult," I explained and taking the blushing, miserable young man by the elbow, I steered him through the corridors to his little corner of the SGC.

And that's where we are now. Man, his office is a mess! But he is a bigger one; he looks defeated. All out of fight.

"Thanks, Jack," he says, gratefully dropping into his chair.

I settle on the side of his desk, getting ready to provide support, advice, coffee, myself... whatever he needs. Just say it, Danny, say the word - it's yours!

"Jack... can you go now?"

Daniel

Thank God he's gone! I'm out of control and heading for a crash and burn to end all impacts. All my defences are crumbling and I can't seem to phrase a single considered response. It's terrifying! Now I know how Jack must feel when we have to surrender our weapons: the tools of his trade. Well words are mine, and all my clever linguistic tricks and the emotions I hide behind them are laid bare.

It's like when you get a fit of the giggles and you know you are in trouble but, God help you, you can't stop them. Expressing myself has always been about choices for me, the stuff I let out, the stuff I keep in. I'm a past master at skirting difficult issues, denying the fight and now it's all come home to roost. I could no more dissemble now than I could teach Jack Latin... okay, bad example.

My stomach growls alarmingly and without a thought I'm on my way to the commissary. I take a tray and line up behind some marines I don't recognise.

"Hi, Dr. Jackson," smiles Louise, one of the cooks, from behind steaming trays of brown goop. "What'll it be?"

"Whatever is least repulsive," I say and I feel the smile slide from my face - exactly like Louise's. She looks hurt and confused. Feeling like a total shit, I press my lips together and point to my choice of lunch, trying to catch her eye to smile at her, but the damage is done and she keeps her gaze lowered.

Sighing, I take the plate she offers me and move to the coffee machine. The marines are there already, horsing around and one of them steps back into me, almost causing me to drop my hard earned lunch.

"Sorry, are you okay?" he asks quickly, steadying my tray.

"Sure. You need more space than normal people," I reply quickly. And there it is again, the pregnant silence that falls each time I open my damn mouth.

"What is that supposed to mean?" the guy asks, all attitude and muscles, gripping my tray menacingly. I close my mouth, bite the inside of my lips to keep them that way and try to look insignificant.

Jack

"Fuck off, Jack," greets my jaunty knock on Daniel's doorframe.

"And hi to you too, Daniel," I reply.

I've had a tip off that Danny's condition is the talk of the mountain. Half of the base thinks he's a jerk and the other half thinks it's hilarious. I've come down to assess for myself. I haven't done any Daniel baiting in... well, a couple of hours and the alternative is paperwork, so I throw myself on Daniel's sofa and wait for him to stop pretending to work.

"Busy?" I ask innocently.

"No," he spits back, shutting his eyes against the honest reply and pushing away the files in disgust.

"That stuff kicking in for you, there?" I ask him, smiling as I get up and approach his desk to check the little copper button on his neck.

"Yes," he says, throwing himself back in his chair and raising closed eyes to the ceiling.

I perch on his desk again - it's my favourite spot. I'm surprised it doesn't have a dent in the shape of my ass in it by now. So, Danny..." I begin.

His eyes fly open and his head snaps forward. "Jaaaack," he says with a warning in his voice, as he narrows his icy blue eyes.

"What do you think of the new girl on SG-11?" I pounce.

"Bad skin," he answers immediately, then drops his face into his hands.

"Do you like Carter's new hair do?" I press my advantage.

"No", he says, his voice muffled by his hands. "It's ridiculous! Jack, stop"

"And Fraiser's jacket, the one she wore to O'Malley's last week?" I am beginning to warm to this game.

"Looked like a dead animal" Daniel replies, still muffled. "Please, Jack, don't," he pleads. But Danny it's so much fun!

"And what do you think of Major Davis?"

Now, why the hell did I ask that? Fuck, idiot! I don't want to hear this. Everyone on base knows that Davis has a soft spot for Daniel the size of Minnesota: Everyone except Daniel of course.

"He's a really nice guy," Daniel says, looking up with a question in his eyes, and then slaps his hand across his mouth. His eyes are now staring into mine, scared, really afraid. Mentally I take a step back: why would he be afraid? What could he possibly say to me that would frighten him? Am I that much of a bastard?

"Daniel..." I say softly, but he's on his feet and out of the door before I can even frame my next question.

Daniel

Hiding out in the store rooms of the SGC is not high on my list of fun things to do on a Thursday afternoon. But it is what I'll be doing until I can get a grip on the crap going on in my head. What do I do now? I ran out on Jack and left him in my office when I realised suddenly the damage I could do, and I managed to avoid him in the Archaeological Resource Room when he was trying to track me down. Damn, he is nothing if not persistent.

It never dawned on me that I would be avoiding Jack, whose company I normally crave above all others. But suddenly, that is exactly why I have to avoid him. I can't be around him with this stuff in my blood forcing me to spill the stuff in my head... and my heart.

How ironic after all the missions gone wrong we've endured, all the times we almost didn't make it, it should be something self inflicted that could ultimately blow this team apart. I don't delude myself that it will be okay if Jack were to find out my feelings for him. I'd be off the team and out of the mountain before my feet could touch the ground. Not that Jack is homophobic like some of the assholes down here, but his take on don't ask, don't tell extends to don't have a clue! If he knew his straight best friend actually had the hots for him, the shock would turn his hair grey... er.

It came as a bit of a shock to me too, never having had these kinds of feelings for a man before. I even wondered if it was down to my lack of female company that I should find my C.O. so damned attractive. But a night with Ke'ra - before she remembered that she wanted to kill us all - was enough to persuade me that I was in love with Jack.

Not men, not women, not sex.

Just Jack.

A noise and a flood of light from the hallway haul me back from my thoughts. I press myself further into the corner of the room.

"Daniel, you in here?" It's Jack's voice.

I bite my lip, put my head on my knees and cover my ears. I must not speak. After a moment I hear the door close and the light is blocked out again, only the green glow of the wall lights illuminate my shaking hands as I wipe at the damp stains on the leg of my BDU's; Blood from my bitten lower lip. I'll have to stay here until Jack leaves the base; I need to avoid him for as long as possible.

"Dr. Jackson and Colonel O'Neill to General Hammond's office," the tannoy announces.

Of course!

Jack

I close the door on the supply closet. I know he's in there. Finding one archaeologist isn't that hard for someone who has spent as long as I have in Special Ops. I wonder if he remembers that this is where I found him the last time he hid from me, where he held a gun on me, where I held him while he sobbed and screamed as his addiction wracked his body.

I stand outside, unsure of what to do next. I feel a real prick for teasing him like that in his office. Maybe an apology will fix this, but I get the feeling there's more to this than my idiotic ragging on him. I'm almost ready to walk back in there and resolve this when the tannoy summons us both to see Hammond. I nip quickly around the corner, flatten myself against the wall and watch the closet door. After a minute he appears, looking flushed and miserable. I have an overwhelming urge to step out and enfold him in my arms, to physically give him the strength to face this and let him know he isn't alone, but I guess from his evasive manoeuvres, I'm not the one he's going to turn to right now.

I run to the General's office and, at his offer, throw myself into a chair and act relaxed before Daniel knocks.

"You wanted to see me?" Daniel asks, his arms glued around his chest, his whole body screaming how uncomfortable he is. For a moment, I'm reminded of the pale, geeky guy I met those years ago, a sneezing, floppy haired dweeb who also happened to be the bravest, most brilliant and most compassionate soul I've ever known; the guy who saved my life in more ways than one.

"Have a seat, son." The General pauses and Daniel reluctantly complies.

"Now, we have briefed Colonel Strichland of SG-14 on the Cadith treaty negotiations and he stands ready to embark with you tomorrow at 1100 hours to be fitted with a tag. In the meantime, Dr. Jackson, you need to become more adept at curbing your replies before I get further complaints."

Daniel nods his head, looking beaten and not meeting my eye or the General's.

"Complaints?" I ask, looking back to Hammond.

"I've had staff from the Infirmary, the kitchens and archaeological resources complaining about Dr. Jackson's behaviour, and two marines are now on report for a fight he started in the commissary."

Daniel is doing his best to disappear into his baggy BDU jacket.

Daniel

"I'd like to go home, sir," I croak, finally finding my voice. The General looks relieved.

"Well, if Dr. Fraiser has no complaints, I think that would be the best idea, provided that Colonel O'Neill accompanies you. We can't have someone with sensitive information like you telling the supermarket checkout clerk all about our work down here," the General says with a small smile.

"It only applies to direct questions," I blurt out. "I won't just start telling what I know to all and sundry."

"I'm afraid we can't take the risk," Hammond replies.

"I'd go straight home and not speak to anyone," I plead and even to my ears I sound pathetic. Okay, I'm desperate.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Jackson. Colonel O'Neill stays with you at home or on the base - it's up to you."

I look at Jack and catch a flicker of hurt in those warm brown eyes. "Yes, Sir," I mumble.

I somehow manage to get out of the office, vaguely aware that Jack and the General are still wrapping up. All I can think of is that the most important relationship in my life is about to implode. Jack's friendship is everything to me, not even Sam or Teal'c come close, for all that I love them both. The realisation that tomorrow will be my last mission and tonight will be the last time Jack will look at me with that open, honest gaze of his has me reeling like a drunk. I know Jack will never desert me, he's a better man than that, he will still be my friend, but it will be tainted, bitter and a pale shadow of what we shared when he discovers how I have deceived him.

God! It's hard to breathe.

Suddenly, Jack is there. A hand on my back, I can feel the warmth of it through my clothes. He leads me away from the general's office.

"So, Daniel, where are we going?" he asks, sounding subdued.

"Home," I say simply. It's all I can trust myself to say right now. If I have to confess my eternal love for Jack, ruin the only friendship that keeps me whole and probably earn a punch on the nose, I may as well do it the comfort of my own home. Jack expertly steers me to the locker room where I woodenly change clothes, then I'm herded up and out of the mountain and into Jack's truck.

It's late afternoon and the roads are starting to get busy with people heading home, but I'm lost in visions of how badly tonight will pan out and it's not until Jack stops the engine that I realise where we are.

Jack

"This is your house," Daniel says. So he is still awake, he's been silent all the way home; I figured he'd fallen asleep.

"Yup!" I grin at him.

He blinks his brilliant blue eyes a couple of times. "Why are we here?" he asks, frowning.

"Daniel, do you have beer in your refrigerator?" I ask.

"No."

"Best pizza delivery place in the Springs within five minutes?"

"No."

"Do you have sports channels, popcorn or a spare bed at your house?"

"No."

"Daniel, do you have any further questions on why we are at my house?"

"No." And he smiles; the first one I've seen since the Cadith tagged him. And it's like the sun breaking from behind rain clouds. I did that.

After a minute I realise I'm still staring at him and I cover my lapse by getting out of the truck. Daniel follows me into the house, dropping his briefcase in the hall. He hangs up his jacket next to mine and I'm struck by how good that simple action feels - Oh God! I'm in trouble here.

I go to the refrigerator and pull out two beers, briefly basking in the coolness of the icy air as it washes over me and lowers my temperature, which seems to be climbing in the presence of the good doctor.

Re-entering the sitting room, I pass one of the bottles to Daniel and pick up the 'phone. I quickly order for both of us, Daniel loves their goat's cheese and sun dried tomato. He has settled himself on the sofa and is flicking through the channels for something educational.

I stand in the doorway, watching him. He's kicked off his shoes, put his feet up on the table and is sipping his beer. All trace of his earlier discomfort has gone. He looks relaxed and at home... I wish. I would watch every one of his stupid documentaries a hundred times over and without complaint if it meant he would be here like this every evening.

As I watch him, so calm in my company, I am reminded of his agitation earlier and start to wonder again what it is that he felt he couldn't tell me. I mean we're friends, best friends; nothing he could say would make me think any less of him. My recollection of the conversation brings me up short; I will always think the world of Daniel... but Paul Davis is a different matter.

Daniel

The ride home has given me time to compose myself, thankfully. I can do this; this is Jack, for crying out loud! We hang out all the time, it's no biggie. But I don't know what has rattled him all of a sudden. He was standing by the door one minute, thinking of something rude to say about the Discovery Channel I suspect and now he's looming right in front of me, blocking the remote and gripping his beer bottle with white knuckles.

"What's going on, Jack?" I ask, my mouth going dry. He looks at me, really peers at me, like I'm an enemy to be assessed and sized up.

"You tell me," he growls, finally dropping onto the sofa beside me.

"Well I can't lie, I'm a liability to the programme and you are baby-sitting me," I tell him. I find a programme on El Amarna and put down the remote, trying to lose myself in the soothing images of Egypt, but my momentary ease is shattered and the tension between us has my nerves jangling. When the pizza arrives, fifteen silent minutes later, I leap from the sofa like a greyhound from a trap at the sound of the doorbell.

"I've got it," I say in an effort to disguise my overreaction. Jack just watches as I take the delivery, pay the kid and place our dinner on the coffee table. I flip the box lid, take a slice and bite a chunk off, dropping back onto the sofa. Still his eyes never leave me.

"It's good, eat some," I tell him between mouthfuls. He reaches out and takes a slice, but doesn't bring it to his mouth.

The Amarna programme is over, most of the pizza is still in the box, cold and greasy looking. I get up and fetch more beer for Jack and a glass of water for me, the tense atmosphere and the pizza have taken their toll and I feel a little nauseous. I return to the sofa, Jack takes the beer and I notice he has switched off the TV.

"No game on tonight?" I ask him, sitting back down.

"I thought we could talk," Jack says directly. I must have let my horror show for a second as I catch a hint of triumph in Jack's eyes.

"Jack, I don't want to play make the geek look stupid again," I whine, figuring offence might make him back off.

"I'm sorry about that earlier," he says, having the grace to look abashed. "And you're not a geek!"

"Right, I know of many of our colleagues who disagree with you," I smile. He looks like he's about to say something, but sips his beer instead.

"So, been out much lately?" he continues. He looks at me frankly, as if he's getting ready to pounce.

"I went to see that movie with Sam last week, you know, the one with..."

"So no dinner dates lined up?" he interrupts.

"No! Jack what is this about?" I ask, starting to feel rather confused.

"Has anyone asked you?" Jack presses.

"Yes," I gulp, unprepared for his question.

He turns to face me, putting his bottle down first. He looks really angry and I have no idea what is going on.

"Daniel, who? Who asked you out?"

"P... Paul," I stutter, and Jack grasps my arms. "But Sam told me that he isn't just after a beer and a game, so I turned him down." I'm blushing like a teenager, but Jack relaxes and lets go of my arms. He takes a deep breath and runs his hand through his silvery hair.

I am so far out of my depth I can't even see the shore!

Jack

I'm making a fucking fool of myself, and I can't help it. As if I have any prior claim on the man! And yet the idea of him seeing someone, dating someone, kissing someone else gives me a knot in my stomach.

"If he ever bothers you again, Daniel, tell me, okay?" I say, forcing my words past the constriction in my throat.

"I can handle it, Jack," Daniel replies with a little frown. "I am thirty-six. I've done this before."

"What, had a man hit on you?" I splutter. Daniel starts to get that hunted look in his eyes again and presses himself into the corner of the sofa, as far away from me as possible. He doesn't reply and I clench my fists to stop myself grabbing him and shaking the information out of him. He doesn't have to answer; his silence speaks volumes.

"Daniel, you don't have to put up with that, you know. People take advantage of your good nature; you can be a little... unworldly sometimes."

Daniel starts to chatter about being more off world than on in the last four years, but the joke falls flat, I'm so not in the mood and he gives up with a sigh.

"Jack, let's talk about something else," he says in a pained voice, his long, strong fingers picking nervously at the sofa fabric.

"Do you have a problem with someone on base, Daniel? Because as your C.O, I..."

"It's not like that," he interrupts quickly.

I recognise the startled expression on his face that tells me that he didn't want that to come out. He jumps up from the sofa and moves around the room, switching on table lamps, looking at the pictures on the mantel. I watch the Jackson evasion tactics, noting the tension in his shoulders and back as he prowls around the room seeking escape.

"So, Strichland, what is he like?" Daniel asks, scanning the titles off my bookshelves. I quietly get up from the sofa and move towards him.

"I don't think the Cadith will be swayed by personalities," he continues, trying desperately to steer the conversation into safer waters, "but it would be useful if he had one." He trails a hand along the book spines, trying to act calm. His pretence is blown out of the sky, however when I get a look at his face. There are furrows in his brow and he's biting that long suffering bottom lip and furiously avoiding my eyes.

"What is it like, Daniel?" I ask quietly.

"Wha...?"

"You said ‘it's not like that', so tell me what it is like," I insist. I'm not trying to threaten him, but even I can hear the "don't fuck with me" tone in my voice.

"Jack, please you have to drop this," he whispers.

"Daniel, someone is troubling you, you are not telling me something. What kind of a friend would I be...?"

The look he shoots me makes the words freeze in my mouth. I swear my heart stops for a couple of seconds as I watch the pain that flickers across his face. What kind of a friend would I be? A thought has occurred to me and I'm not sure whether to throw up or laugh.

"Who is it?" I growl.

Daniel backs away from me, but he's trapped in the corner of the room with me standing between him and the door - just like I have tried to drill in to him never to allow himself to be.

"Jack..." he begs.

"I need to know," I press, terrified of what I think he might answer, but having to hear it all the same.

"No," he moans twisting his head away from me again and again as I try to see his eyes. He slides his back down the wall and ends in a pitiful, curled heap on the floor, arms wrapped around his knees. Smart man, Daniel, he knows the way to avoid the truth is to avoid opening his mouth at all.

"Daniel, you have to tell me."

He just shakes his head and refuses to meet my eye.

"Daniel, who is it?" I ask louder.

He flinches but doesn't look up. This is killing me slowly.

"DANIEL," I yell.

His head shoots up, his eyes lock with mine and I know. It's all there, written on his tear-tracked face, the shame, the anger, the resignation. It's me: he knows I'm in love with him.

Daniel

I see the exact moment that Jack understands; he stills completely, and then slowly closes his eyes. He covers his face with his hands then rakes the fingers up through his hair.

"Fuck," he swears softly.

In a swift movement he is crouched down at eye level with me.

"Listen to me, Daniel," he says in a barely controlled voice, and suddenly I've had enough. I know it's a knee jerk reaction to being cornered and choiceless but I cannot stop the bitterness spilling from me. I have to speak before he does.

"No, Jack, you fucking listen to me," I spit and he recoils at the hardness in my voice. "I have been dealing with this for a while now, getting on with life, ignoring it as far as I can, coping and doing a damned good job of it: good enough that you had no idea. I can't help what has happened and I sure as hell can't stop the way I feel. Believe me, I tried."

Jack's soft brown eyes speak of shame and embarrassment, obviously he would sooner be anywhere else than here. I can't continue to watch his face and get out the words that crowd my throat; his pain threatens to silence me. I look away and steel my nerve to continue.

"Jack, I did not want you to find out like this, I didn't want you to find out at all. But I warned you, I asked you to leave me alone and you wouldn't. I'm sorry you're disgusted, I'm sorry I let you down, I'm sorry you're going to have to deal with this and I know it means we won't be able to work together any more. But I won't apologise for how I feel. One way or another you are the most important person in my life and you are my best friend. I won't apologise for falling in love with you, Jack."

His eyes are wide and he has a look on his face that would be comical if anything else had put it there.

Say something Jack; say anything.

What, no quick one liner?

No terrible pun?

His eyes are looking into mine but are not seeing me and I grab my chance. Pushing up off the floor with hands and feet, I surge past him, knocking into his shoulder and sending him sprawling on his ass. Running to the front door, I realise I have left my shoes in the sitting room. Unwilling to lose my advantage by returning, I run down the hall and throw myself into the first room with an open door, slamming it behind me. Amazingly there's a key in the lock and I quickly click it shut.

Turning, I find myself in Jack's bedroom, the irony of which is not lost on me even in my distressed state. I lean back against the door and listen. For a second I wonder if I've knocked him out. It's so quiet I can hear my heart hammering and Jack's alarm clock marking the seconds.

Then I hear quick footfalls and he's outside the door.

"Daniel, open the door," he says quietly.

I close my eyes and lean my head back. He waits a second then rattles the doorknob and knocks hard on the door. I can feel how hard through my shoulders against the wood.

"Daniel, please. We need to talk, now open the door."

Jack only does reasonable for a short period of time and I know that this flimsy lock won't keep him out for long. I look around the room and my eyes light upon a big heavy chest of drawers next to the door.

"Don't make me shout what I have to say to you through the door, Daniel, let me in."

I have a pretty good idea of what he wants to say and a door is nowhere near thick enough to protect me from it. I move to the chest of drawers, put my back against it and heave. It slides a few grudging inches over the smooth floorboards with a rumble and a squeak. Again I push, and again. Jack has realised what I am doing and the noise of a very pissed off Colonel shouldering the door while hollering my name gives me the impetus to force the heavy piece of furniture the rest of the way.

I lean my hands on the top and wonder what to do next; as I turn I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the opposite wall. Walking forward, I angle my head enough to see that the tag on my neck has changed to a clear, strong white light.

I slump onto Jack's bed. I can still hear him outside. He's quieter now, not shouting and I can hear only one word in five. Even that is too much. Overwhelmed and shaky now the adrenaline is going sour in my blood, I pull a pillow from beneath the quilt and lie down with it pressed over my head.

Jack

I'm sitting on my ass on the floor of my sitting room, where a suddenly angry Daniel has dumped me. I don't know how long I've been here. It could be ten seconds, it could be ten hours. Either way, I feel like I've been thumped in the guts, kind of light headed and everything is going greyish... oh, yeah, breathe in... right. Better. Now breathe out. Good. Breathe in again and stand up, breathe out again and look around. Okay, peachy, the O'Neill consciousness has returned to normal operating parameters, now time to process some stuff.

Daniel, who I know is still in the house, because it was the click of the lock on my bedroom door that woke me up, has just told me he is in love with me.

Daniel. Loves. Me.

Nope, it's just not going in. I try again.

My heart's desire could be mine if I don't fuck up now.

Okay, that was closer, but I know there's still something missing.

O'Neill, you undeserving, jammy son of a bitch, the most beautiful person on this or any other planet has given up the whole sanity thing, decided to slum it and is in love with you.

YES, there it is!

I try to squash the enormous grin that threatens to divide my face in two, but fail abysmally and just go with it for a minute. It feels kind of nice.

A second later some of the other stuff starts to demand my attention. Stuff Daniel said about being disgusted, being sorry and leaving SG-1. Okay, so the Grand Canyon smile has been removed now - just as well really, considering that my jaws were really starting to spasm there.

A memory of Daniel's face, full of sadness, full of self-loathing swims in front of my mind's eye. And an image of me, trapping him in a corner, demanding answers, shouting at him; scaring him.

I feel sick.

So he thinks he's alone in this. He thinks he's just given me this bombshell news that will make me flip out and... what? Hate him? I'm stunned that this is exactly what I was thinking only one minute before his announcement, and I'm moving, picking up speed with every step until I'm outside my bedroom door, sweaty-palmed and dry-mouthed.

"Daniel, open the door," I croak at half the volume I intended. My mind spins, turning over all the possible things he could be thinking, the unhappiness he must be feeling. When I close my eyes I can see that angry, distraught face, eyelashes webbed with unshed tears, I see him on my bed, hugging himself, hating himself.

Awash with these images, I'm rattling the handle and banging a fist on the door, I can't bear the thought of him in so much pain because of me.

"Daniel, please. We need to talk, now open the door." I'm desperate; I need to see his face.

I search around for a way to tell him that it's okay and that I couldn't be happier, but how can I do that with a thick old piece of wood between us, without being able to gauge his reaction, to see how much of this he wants to hear?

"Don't make me shout what I have to say to you through the door, Daniel. Let me in," I demand, and I can hear the impatience in every word. A noise from inside catches my attention, the sound of heavy furniture being moved. Why, that sneaky little bastard, he's barricading himself in! I begin to thump my shoulder against the door, trying to bust the lock before Daniel can complete his plan.

"Danny," I shout. "For Christ's sake, I have to tell you something. Open this God-damned door and talk to me. I'm not angry, Daniel, I'm not angry with you! Please, you have to listen to me!" The cessation of sounds from within leads me to the conclusion I'm too late.

"Christ, Daniel, I'm trying to tell you something here," I say in a more reasonable tone, my hands flat against the door and my head lowered. My arm is beginning to throb now the assault is over. "Daniel, what you said, I'm not angry, not by a mile. In fact... fuck it, Daniel, please open the door, I'm trying to tell you that I love you."

I don't know if he can hear me or not. But I start to talk like I never have before. I tell him what he means to me. I tell him how I had never even hoped that he might see me the way I see him. How I had no clue of his feelings for me and how brave he was to tell me. I talk about Edora and how I missed him so badly that I let another person share my bed as I dreamed of him. I talk about that damn princess who convinced Daniel that he had feelings for her, how I never thought for one minute that he had truly given up on us. I talk about why I was unable to greet him first, when I returned to Abydos to fetch him, seeing him again had me rattled and I was trying to ignore why. And I talk about how I feel each time I think I've lost him.

That was how I first knew he was more to me than just a teammate - when Nem took him. The wake was held here and I killed Hammond's car, unable to express the depth of my feelings of loss. George tried to give me the "hard to lose a man in your command" line, but I knew it was much more than that. I knew it when I had to leave him on Klorel's ship, when Ma'chello swapped bodies with him, and when he disappeared while staring into that damn glass skull. I knew it when Chaka took him, when I almost killed him trying to save the Enkarans and when I found him on the wrong side of his balcony railing addicted to the Goa'uld pleasure palace.

And each time in the aftermath of the fierce joy of having him back, I've promised myself that one day I'll tell him what he means to me. When the fight is done and we've earned our rest, I've sworn to tell him what's in my heart. But that time's never come; always another mission, always a rescue to make or an ally to find. I've put it off. I've buried it deep. I've suppressed it and hidden it away and told myself it's for the best.

It's not.

It's all just excuses.

It's really late now: I have not heard a noise from in there for an age. Exhausted by my emotional confession, I lay down on the floor, my throat sore from talking, and my back against the door. He has to come out sometime; we have to return to P9R 753 tomorrow. We can talk in the car on the drive to the mountain - like a captive audience! Maybe I'll have to tell him this all over again, maybe he won't want to hear it, but at least it is straight in my mind at last. He loves me. I love him.

Between us, we can work this out.

Daniel

My head jerks up as I hear another car approach. Nope, still not Jack. Maybe I should just go inside and face the music, but it's not just me. Jack would be in big trouble for losing me. I pull up the collar on the jacket I borrowed from Jack's closet and put my hands under my arms to warm them. I lean back against the tree I have been propping up. Wrapped in the scent of Jack I close my eyes and let my mind drift - imagine it is his arms around me, his warmth that sustains me, and his strength that supports me.

Another car, not him. I burrow further into the padding, so I can't be seen.

I know it's Jack's truck even before I can see it. Christ, I can tell he's angry just by the way he's driving. Stepping out from the trees, I raise a hand and wave at him. He steers into the side of the road and just for one second I wonder if he is going to run me down, but he stops inches from my sneakers... his sneakers - had to borrow those too. He puts the truck into park and looks at me through the windshield. His jaw is set, his lips thin and grim, but in his eyes... it's not anger; it looks like sorrow. I look back at him for a moment than slowly move round to the passenger side and open the door. The blast of warm air washes over my frozen face. He doesn't look at me, so I climb in and shut out the cold. He makes no move to drive the two-fifty yards to the first checkpoint, he just keeps gripping the steering wheel, flexing his hands rhythmically and staring forward. I take comfort in the fact that he hasn't tried to hit me yet.

"Walk all the way?" he asks finally.

"Half way, found a cab eventually," I reply. What must we look like? Both staring straight ahead, body language shrieking our discomfort. I know I look like I slept in my clothes. I did for a few hours, before I came to my senses and remembered I could get out of Jack's bedroom window to avoid the inevitable fight - even if just for a while. I sneak a look at Jack. He looks bad, confused, tired and disappointed. I did that. If possible I feel a little worse than I did before.

As I surreptitiously watch him, I see him draw in a deep breath and square his shoulders. Here it comes.

"Daniel..." he begins.

"... we need to talk," I finish for him. He turns to look at me for the first time. I give him a tight smile. "I know, Jack. We will talk, I promise, but not now. Let's just get this mission over with. Please?"

"But there are things I need to tell you," he persists.

Yeah, I know and most of them end in "off". "Jack, please," I ask dropping my face into my icy hands. "Not now." His silence unnerves me and I look up at him. His eyes are boring into me, testing, asking, pushing. Finally he nods and puts the truck into drive.

The trip from there to the infirmary is made in silence. I tell him I'll meet him in the briefing but he looks at his boots before muttering, "I better stay in case Janet asks you any questions about..." He tails off and digs his hands in his pockets.

"Oh!" I say stupidly as the truth dawns on me.

As Janet checks me over, my eyes keep catching Jack's, then his, like mine will skitter away to look anywhere but at each other for a minute or two before returning inexorably to the other's face for the process to begin again. Janet catches one of these exchanges and looks between us suspiciously before signing me as fit to travel and wishing us luck.

"Why did you run off like that?" Jack asks finally as we are waiting alone in the Briefing Room. He's sitting, scratching at the grain of the wood of the table with his nails. He doesn't look at me and if I'd been anywhere else in the room than sitting opposite, I probably would not have heard him.

"I was afraid," I reply honestly, as if I could do anything else, matching his tone.

"Of me?" he queries. His nail stops scraping for a moment until I reply.

"Of your reaction."

"You don't have a very high opinion of me, do you?" he continues, his nail once again worrying at the desk.

"I think the problem is that I do," I immediately respond. "Jack, we were going to talk about this later," I gently remind him.

"Yeah, I know, but if I told you that my reaction is not what you think..."

"I would say that you were a good friend and better than I deserved." Does this mean Jack can live with this? Can stand to still have me around? That I can keep his friendship? God, that would be too much to hope for surely? I try not to get my hopes up too high.

Jack lifts his eyes from the table and brings his warm gaze to bear on me. "Daniel, what I'm trying to tell you..."

"Morning, Sir," Sam smiles, still trying to patch up yesterday's stickiness. The smile she turns on me is distinctly less enthusiastic. "Hi, Daniel."

I murmur a subdued greeting as she takes her seat at the table. I look back to Jack. He entwines his fingers and taps his fist on the wood and lets out an explosive breath.

"Carter," he acknowledges but he's still looking at me. Sam is obviously aware that she has walked into something and reacts with poorly disguised relief when Teal'c and General Hammond walk in a moment later.

Jack

The joy that floods through me when I see Daniel step out from the trees just outside the base perimeter feels almost familiar. It seems like I'm always waiting for him to turn up from some crisis or another! I don't know whether to grin like a loon or chew his head off. He lifts his hand and waves to me! Waves! Like I have not been scanning every inch of the journey here looking for him! I stop right in front of him.

Suddenly, seeing him like this in the cold light of day has my guts constricting and an invisible hand lodged around my throat. All my certainty last night, all the words I found to tell him evaporate in the presence of that pale, pinched, blinking face. Every opening line I thought of on the drive here is gone in an instant and I just stare stupidly at him. I hear him open the door and the frigid air swirls briefly around me.

Tell him, O'Neill. Tell him. He's right here; you can reach out and touch him. Tell him about the reason he has brought into your sorry life. Tell him about the happiness you never thought to feel again. Tell him how terrified you were when you woke up and there was no answer to your knocks. What went through your mind when you went to the bedroom window and found him gone.

Just tell him you love him, damn it.

"Walk all the way?" Fuck! Twenty odd years of conditioning are too much for my cowardly heart to overcome. I know that I love this man with every fibre of my body, every atom that is me. How hard can it be to tell him so? Who is last on my mind at night and first in the morning? Who do I watch sleep at night under stars I don't recognise? Whose smile marks the success or failure of each mission for me? Whose name is on my lips when I wake trembling from dreams of him? Who do I want to give the rest of my days to?

"Daniel..." I reply to my internal monologue and it takes me a second to realise, he's talking to me. I look at him, he looks like shit and I've never loved him more than now. In my borrowed clothes, frozen half to death, needing a shave, a shower and a good night's sleep, my heart sings at the sight of him. If only it could sing loud enough for him to hear it!

"But there are things I need to tell you." If only I could get the damn words out.

The next couple of hours pass in a blur of briefings, medicals and I know I am just going through the motions. We are never alone for a moment other than that painful minute in the Briefing Room until now, in the locker room. Daniel is facing his locker shrugging on his jacket. He's tense and distant; I have no idea what is going on in that complex brain of his. Carter and Teal'c have slunk off to the armoury ahead of us. It's easy to see something is wrong with the team dynamic.

I know he said we would talk later, but I can't leave it alone, I pretend to organise my pack, although I've done it twice already. Daniel has his back to me.

"I have been in the military for a long time," I say quietly and without looking up, and I sense the sudden stillness in him. "Long enough to know that there are things you can talk about and things you don't touch."

He starts to dress again.

"And I thought, long enough to know what kind of a man I am."

His hands fly, zips, snaps, stuffing items in his open pack.

"But it turns out that I was wrong, Daniel. I thought I was a brave man, an honest man..."

His locker bangs shut and he almost runs from the room, leaving me to figure this out alone.

"... but as it turns out I'm a coward, Daniel," I whisper to his retreating footsteps.

Daniel

Waiting in the gate room for Jack is an unpleasant novelty. I can't remember it ever happening before. No one has been talking to me unless they have to all morning, worried about what horrors might tumble from my mouth next. Sam and Teal'c are watching me. They know something is up but are too polite to ask. They probably think we've had another fight. Strichland and his 2IC seem oblivious to the tension.

When Jack walks in, I quietly let out the breath I seem to have been holding since I walked out on him in the locker room. He greets us all and signals that they can start dialling. I watch the chevrons clunk into place and hear the build-up as the wormhole establishes. The wave sweeps down the ramp before settling into its perfect circle and I briefly wonder if stepping in the way of that tide of energy wouldn't just be a whole lot easier than trying to explain myself to Jack. He nods that we are to move out and lets Strichland and Mills take point. Sam takes up a position beside me, but Jack pointedly ignores the empty space next to Teal'c and in some confusion Sam moves up the ramp to fill the gap leaving Jack and I shoulder-to-shoulder as we step into the event horizon.

We step onto P9R 753 in synch physically, if not spiritually, and Jack takes his natural place at the front. He is so assured, so confident he makes me look like a total idiot as I struggle with the clips on my pack. Sam smiles sympathetically and helps me position the stupid plastic fasteners. Jack has already gained a significant lead with his long, swift stride and I have to jog to close the gap with Sam close behind me, bringing up the rear.

Jack remains silent on the walk to Apesh, the Cadith capital, other than to give orders, with none of his usual inane comments or easy teasing. Teal'c attempts once or twice to engage Jack or me in conversation, his uncharacteristic behaviour symbolic of the depth of the team's unease. Our SG-14 escort are also edgy and unnerved by the time we enter the city. If one of us doesn't fold soon I may have to start shouting just to provoke a reaction.

Thankfully, I spot our hosts coming towards us and press in front to meet them.

"Petrocles," I say, relieved. "This is Colonel Strichland and Major Mills." The solemn Cadith greets the new members of our delegation with the grave politeness of his people and invites us to the Palace of Justice where the negotiations are to take place. As we walk, I engage Darus, Petrocles' aide, and fire a list of questions at him.

"Tell me, do my people have to enter into these negotiations at the same time?"

"It is customary, Dr. Jackson, why do you ask?"

I notice Jack has moved up beside me and is matching my pace but pretending not to listen. The drug has taken full effect and I am anxious to be given the antidote," I explain bluntly.

Darus smiles gently - I don't believe humour goes beyond this small gesture here, at least not with visitors.

"You have found it ... with difficulty, to speak in this truthful manner?" Darus asks softly.

I hear Jack's muffled snort but keep my attention on the Cadith. "I have found it difficult, Darus. I had not realised the implications of accepting this procedure fully, it has made me somewhat blunt and I have offended people I care about," I tell him.

His smile becomes sympathetic. "I will request that your part of the... questions be completed today. Your other delegates can be seen when their devices have become active."

"Thank you," I breathe. Jack is looking at me with an unreadable look on his face - I believe he's thinking, I could be wrong - I don't have much experience of that expression.

Petrocles has taken Mills and Strichland to meet the physician responsible for the tagging, leaving SG-1 alone as Darus has left to prepare a chamber for my negotiations.

"Carter, Teal'c have a look around. Major, see if you can find Strichland's friend and ask about the tagging technology. Radio in every fifteen, okay?" Jack tells them.

As my teammates disappear, the feeling of panic at being alone with Jack returns. I don't know how this situation between us can get any worse, but if there is a way he'll find it. I try to allow the serenity of our surroundings soothe me.

The palace has a garden in the centre of the building, reminiscent of classical Roman architecture. There are gravel paths and trees I don't recognise, smothered in white and lilac blossom, scenting the air with a delicate sweetness. But my efforts are in vain.

"So, Daniel, any other choice information you want to impart before you clam up again?" Jack enquires, taking a seat in the sunshine.

"Think this is funny, Jack?" I ask quietly.

"No, Daniel, not funny at all," he replies and his expression seems to confirm this. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Would it matter if I said no?" I retort, more sharply than I intended. He turns his eyes on me and he looks pained by my response. After a minute he looks away and I feel like an asshole - how does he do that? "What do you want to know, Jack?" I ask his bowed head when I have checked that we are alone.

"How long?" he says.

If I hadn't been expecting it, I would have had to ask him to repeat it, his voice is pitched so low. "Months, Jack. Months of denying it, months of ignoring it, months of covering it up," I tell him.

He lifts his head to look at me but his hands still hang loosely between his knees. "Why?"

"Christ, it's not like I welcomed it, Jack! I have run through all the possible outcomes of this... they're not pretty," I reply.

"No, Daniel, why me?"

"Because you are the best person I know, Jack. You're everything to me," I tell him, my embarrassment catching up only after my words are out. "I never thought to love anyone again after Sha'uri but I couldn't stop it. Every day it would be a little stronger, it took me a while to recognise what it was and when I did it was too late. I would do anything for you, Jack! God! When I thought we had lost you on Edora..." I clamp my hand across my mouth to stop the torrent of words that threaten to overwhelm us both. Jack's face is pale and his beautiful eyes are full of sadness.

"Like when Nem took you..." he whispers, his gaze unfocussed, seeing beyond the gardens.

"Wha...?" I gulp stupidly.

Jack comes back to himself and stands up to bring himself toe to toe with me. "Daniel," he begins, his voice thick, emotions playing across his face, but seemingly lost for words.

"Jack?" I ask. He shakes his head, but doesn't look away. "Jack, what is it?"

He seems to be struggling; he raises a hand towards me, then drops it again as he seems to fold in on himself and he steps back. "Nothing... it's nothing," he mutters.

At that point Darus speaks my name and I turn to signal my readiness, before I turn back quickly to Jack. The sun chooses that moment to pass behind a cloud and the chill in the absence of its benevolent rays feels like a metaphor for the future of our friendship. Jack makes no move towards me, he doesn't even look up and I turn once more to Darus and follow him from the garden.

Jack

I was this close!

My head was full of his words, their sweetness like a gentle hand on my heart. I thought I would be able to tell him, when his honesty had given the gift of this precious knowledge. But I couldn't - despite his bravery in speaking when he could have stayed silent, I couldn't reply. In his eyes I see the cost of his words, each one offered up in hope and each one deflected by my mute cowardice. With every moment of my silence I watch that hope fade from his gaze, despair and shame insidiously filling the gap where it was, until I have to look away.

Just last night this seemed so simple, so painless. A declaration from me was all it would have taken to bring this amazing man within my reach. A declaration I could give him from a safe distance, with a door, a chest and from the state of my bed, I guess a couple of pillows between us. But with the daylight came the fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of humiliation, fear of discovery - all the things that kept Daniel quiet all this time and which a simple mission has ripped from him.

My heart knows the truth but its honesty is stifled by the cowardice of twenty-four years of not asking and not telling, a lifetime of macho posturing and bolstering my alpha male persona. Ironic really that all the ribbons on my dress blues stand as a testament to my courage in the field, while in this matter of the heart, courage seems to be something I don't possess. So, welcome to the rest of your life Jack O'Neill - you have your remaining years to slowly torment yourself with the pointlessness of might-have-been.

I numbly follow Daniel and the Cadith guy into an airy chamber similar to the one we left yesterday when we were two different people. The same tables arranged in a square pattern, the same wall hangings, the same high windows, same sunlight through them, with only a day in between. A day is all it took to have Daniel look so emotionally battered and to have the best part of me die before drawing breath. We lower ourselves into the indicated places and a woman comes and verifies that Daniel's tag is indeed clear.

I try to empty my mind of the miserable fog that seems to dull every sensation but pain. I know it is my job to monitor Daniel's responses and I make the request that the questions and answers are posed entirely in English to which they agree without comment. I wait as SG-14, Sam and Teal'c take their places and then we are off, no preamble, and no niceties.

I have never heard such impassionate dialogue; even SGC budget meetings are more heartfelt. The Cadith ask a question, Daniel answers, over and over. Questions about political intent, questions about social developments and Daniel calmly and confidently responds to each one. You have to admire the professionalism of the guy. Even though his heart is spread across the wall outside, not even cold yet, he never falters. I listen to each question posed and I can see that Strichland and Carter are also poised to object should the need arise, but it doesn't.

And then it's over. The Cadith are rising from their seats exchanging smiles and nods with each other and with us. Daniel and I sit for a moment longer, not talking, not looking, then he abruptly pushes back his chair and strides over to the medical girl. I watch as she nods and Daniel turns his head to look over his shoulder and locks eyes with me as the tag is removed and the antidote administered. He doesn't flinch and his regard holds a blatant challenge. His message is obvious - his part in this is played and now it is up to me how we move forward - if we move forward.

Once again, it's me who looks away.

Daniel

I didn't expect to feel anything after the antidote - how can you feel lies grow? But strangely I'm aware of my reticence returning and all my familiar hiding places come back into focus like the tide coming in to cover a beach. I welcome the sensation as I think I have said more in twenty-four hours that a lifetime will take to sort out. Who knows what damage I could wreak with sixty days of truth?

Darus comes to ask me if I am well, his smile gently amused at the speed at which I sought out Milla the physician. I assure him I'm relieved and return to my seat next to Jack. I feel so exhausted, even my teeth feel tired! My head aches and my eyes feel gritty. All I want to do is go home. I need my apartment, my books, my fish: I need the evidence of my life around me to ground me, to stop me flying apart. I pray that I can make it back there without incident because I fear that the wrong word will shatter me into a million pieces, like glass.

Petrocles is calling the meeting to order again and is inviting our candidate to take his place to be tagged.

"Please," he says, "our negotiations are proceeding so well, if you would like to come and have your implant installed we can complete formalities." He politely looks to where the two members of SG-14 are sitting and, with a rueful smile, Strichland gets to his feet and approaches Milla, who smiles back and asks him if he understands the implications of this action. The colonel says he does and inwardly I have to laugh. I hope for his sake he does and I resolve to have a quiet word with him on the walk back to the Stargate. Milla takes a tag from the prepared tray and steps up to Strichland.

"Wait," Jack says firmly. Sam and Teal'c are instantly on alert, searching for what has caused this interruption from Jack. I can't believe that Jack is going to do this again; it took some fast-talking last time to smooth things over with our hosts. If he gives us a repeat performance of "Mental Retardation - the results of Cadith marriage practices" we may not be able to recover from it, and the last twenty-four hours of my life will have been for nothing.

Jack rises from his seat and joins Strichland.

"I would like the tag to be implanted in me," Jack says quickly.

"Sir?" Sam asks, her face a picture of disbelief.

"Jack?" Strichland exclaims. Jack turns to SG-14's CO and speaks to him very quietly for a minute or so. Colonel Strichland finally nods and steps back. He walks over to Mills and retakes his seat.

"Colonel Strichland will be remaining in my former position as observer and I will be our candidate for this procedure if you have no objections," Jack announces, almost diplomatically.

"But one day ago, you were almost violent in your reaction to the suggestion. What has happened to change your mind?" Petrocles asks mildly.

"I have learned that there are more frightening things than the truth," Jack replies simply, and despite a short silence provided for him to elaborate, he says no more, but steps in front of Milla, turns down his jacket collar and looks away as she presses the little bronze disc onto his neck.

Jack

As I feel the cold of the tag touch my skin, it takes every ounce of willpower I have not to knock it away and run. This has to be the most stupid thing I have ever done - and I'm talking about a lengthy history of stupid things here.

I deliberately don't look at Daniel although I can guess the expression on his face - like I said you don't often see a speechless linguist. I thank the Cadith and apologise for the change in plans. I agree that we will return in twenty-four hours, in light of the quick response the drug had in Daniel and move towards the door.

"Sir?" Carter asks, "I'd like to stay with SG-14, Milla has offered to show me around their lab facilities."

"I will remain with Major Carter," Teal'c adds. Carter looks so hopeful and I can't face a fight right now, so I nod my approval.

"You are of course welcome to stay also," Darus invites.

"Thank you, but I would like to get used to this mind doohicky on my own turf," I tell him and walk outside, but not before I hear Daniel translate my words to the confused Cadith.

I walk at a normal pace to allow Daniel to say his goodbyes and catch me up, but when I know he's at my shoulder I speed up deliberately to avoid the questions I know are coming. I don't want him to ask them until I've worked out the answers myself.

The city gives way to well-tended fields and after twenty minutes I can see the hill on which the stargate stands. My pause to survey our distance from the gate gives Daniel the chance he has been waiting for and he plants himself firmly in my path and in my personal space.

"What are you doing?" he asks, an angry frown on his tired face.

"My job," I growl back at him.

"Which aspect of your job description does this come under, Jack?" he enquires, the smug little shit.

"Contacting alien races, procuring information which might be of assistance in the struggle against outside aggressors?" I venture.

"Why did you take the tag, Jack?" he asks bitterly. I can tell he's angry at our verbal sparing; usually this kind of thing is his favourite game.

"I figured a dose of the truth would be good for me," I reply, attempting to step around him, but he moves to deflect me.

"Jack," he says quietly. I look into his face and am surprised to see that his eyes betray that he's scared.

"Daniel, you were brave enough to go through this, the least I can do is accept a tag myself, so I can give you some honest answers to your questions," I tell him.

"Questions?" he asks uncertainly.

"Questions, Daniel - you always have questions." I smile at him and step around him to continue the hike to the stargate.

Daniel

As I step into the General's office, I am aware that Jack has just endured the sharper side of George Hammond. I imagine having Jack return with a tag rather than Colonel Strichland has something to do with the General's frown, but I suspect that Jack has managed to talk his way out of it - again! I wonder what he told him.

"Dr. Jackson, I assume Dr. Fraiser has signed you off?" Hammond asks.

"Yes, sir. I'd like to take this opportunity to apologise for my behaviour yesterday," I start, but the General waves me off.

"As I understand it, you had little or no choice in the matter," he interrupts. "Don't give it another thought." His eyes turn on Jack, who smiles winningly.

"However, that is not to say that I am prepared to go through this again. Jack, can I rely on you to stay in one of the guest rooms or would you rather go home?"

"I'd like to go home, Sir," Jack replies, suddenly serious.

"I can assign you an escort if..." George begins, but Jack immediately breaks in.

"Daniel... Sir. It has to be Daniel. Give him a taste of his own medicine." Jacks words are flippant but the look he shoots me is anything but. He looks worried, almost resigned.

"If Dr. Jackson is amenable then I have no objection," George decides, looking from Jack to me.

And there I am, a response required of me, wanting to say no, but nodding my head in acceptance, unable to make my voice say it. For the first time I miss the ability to speak only truth.

I think I know what Jack is doing. His words on P9R 753 have been rolling through my head all through Janet's exam, through shucking my pack and handing off my gun to the armoury and on the long walk to the General's office. Honest answers he said. I think Jack is going to tell me exactly how he feels without the restriction of social niceties - a gut reaction to my revelations, no sugar coating or worrying about each other's feelings. I suppose that is fair, they say honesty is the best policy. And if I could I would tell them both to fuck off and leave me to cry my eyes out for a few days. But I just nod.

So when Jack throws me his keys topside, I climb into the driver's seat without comment and begin the longest drive of my adult life, expecting the other shoe to drop at any moment. But Jack is quiet, his whole body uncharacteristically still. I can't stand it.

"Are you okay?" I finally venture ten minutes away from his place.

"Fine. Thinking," Jack says sharply.

"About?" I press.

"You," he replies, and I catch his eyebrows shooting up. Yeah, Jack! More than you were prepared for? Worried much? "Wow!" he adds.

"Yeah!" I agree and we carry on in silence. I park Jack's truck, we go into the house and for the first time ever I beat Jack to the refrigerator for beer. I pull out a cold bottle and look up to see Jack watching me. I replace the bottle and take two glasses from the shelf and walk into the living room where I pour myself a large whisky - the good one - which I swallow in one. I turn and offer Jack a glass, but he shakes his head. I shrug and pour myself another. Gulping down half, I sit down on the sofa rest my head on the back, take off my glasses and close my eyes.

In my mind's eye, I am twenty-four hours out of time. One day distant from the events of yesterday is too close for comfort, particularly since I have another night of brutal words to live through, his this time, not mine. I see again Jack's stunned face when I blurt out my soul to him; I see his angry frown when I try to avoid him - all too close - too real. I open my eyes to dispel the images and disconcertingly find them still there. Jack has sat down in a chair opposite me. From time to time he frowns or shakes his head, trying to find an edge to grasp so he can hold on to his conscious will. Too bad, buddy, there isn't one. Just open your mouth Jack and go with the flow.

I switch on the lamp beside me, toss down the rest of my whisky, already feeling the fuzzy warmth it instils and lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. I watch him for a while as he struggles with that which he cannot defeat. I'll make it easy for him.

"Let's get this over with shall we?" I begin. Jack miserably looks away from my tired eyes."You were surprised by what I told you." I don't wait for him to agree. "You didn't know I felt this way. You were shocked and..."

"I didn't know that you were gay," he begins at last. A fleeting look of sorrow crosses his face as he gives up his fight for control of his words. I have to admit that his statement takes me aback.

"I'm not," I reply in surprise. "That is I have never been attracted to men before..."

"Not even Paul Davis?" he asks quickly, and I watch as he closes his eyes and mouths "Fuck" silently to himself.

"No!" I yelp. "God, no! I don't know what this thing is that you have with Paul, but..."

"Jealousy," Jack chimes in.

Once again he has me on the ropes and I'm silent for a moment, I can't seem to make any sense of Jack's words. A perfect way to sober up fast, is a surreal conversation with a brutally honest Jack O'Neill.

"Jealous? Of Paul? Why?" I struggle.

"He wants you," Jack breathes. "He's handsome and young and cultured."

"What the fuck do you care who I date?" I shout, more furious with myself for not understanding him than angry at Jack. It's my job to understand, why does this make no sense?

"I care..." Jack whispers and his brown eyes are so wide, he looks terrified but at the same time they are pleading with me to follow him, to catch a... clue.

"Jack?" I ask. Damn I wish I had not downed those whiskies, maybe a clearer head would stop these sudden flashes of hope that have begun to surge through my mind. I can't have heard him right.

"Daniel," he growls back, pushing me, trying to force my hand.

"Tell me," I say simply, falling back in my seat. If I have this wrong it may well be the straw that breaks this camel's back, and the distance between us will reduce the chances of shrapnel hitting Jack when I do fly apart.

"Ask me," he counters quickly, moving to the edge of his seat, seeking to close the space I've just opened up between us.

"Jack, tell me what you mean," I snap at him. His eager, yet terrified face swims before me. If I reach out my hand, I could touch his cheek as I have dreamed of so many times: find out if it is as smooth as I've imagined.

"Ask me the question, Daniel," Jack pleads, his body language telling anyone looking how close he is to the edge.

"What question?" I numbly ask him, subconsciously moving back towards him, perching myself on the edge of the sofa, both of us poised over the coffee table like many chess games before. There's no board this time, but the rules are similar. Think three steps ahead, never let your guard down and don't give it away when you see a winning move coming.

God, help me, I think I see one.

"Do I love you?" he whispers as he rises from his chair and sits down on my side of the table, forcing me to slide back again. His hands are flexing, his knees bumping against mine as he fidgets, waiting for my move.

"You're not disgusted by me?" I gabble.

"No."

"You don't hate me?"

"No." A wry smile with that one.

"Do you have feelings for me?" I ask and he nods over and over, gesturing for me to proceed. I can't help the smile in my heart finding its place on my lips. "Jack, are you in love with me?" I finally blurt. I see my smile reflected on his beautiful face, could it really be this simple?

"Oh, God, yes" he breathes. His hands and legs stop moving and he's still at last. His chocolate eyes bore into mine; our smiles show no sign of dimming. Tentatively I stretch out a hand to span the small gap between us. He doesn't recoil, so I bring it to his cheek in a gentle caress and immediately his hand comes up to cover mine and he leans into my touch. With his other hand he stretches out toward my face, but I intercept it, pull it to my mouth and place a kiss on his palm.

My heart is beating so loud I cannot believe Jack can't hear it. I gently stroke my hand around, through his silver grey hair to the back of his head while I gradually bring his mouth to mine and taste the sweetest kiss of my life. His dry lips are warm and soft and as I feel them smile beneath mine I watch his eyes sparkle in response as neither of us is willing to break eye contact. I draw back from him, releasing his head, my hand dropping to his neck.

"Wow!" I whisper stupidly. Twenty-three languages and a doctorate in Linguistics and the best I can come up with is "Wow"? I lick my lips and relish the taste of him that lingers there. I rally my thoughts and try again. "That was not at all..." I begin

"Weird?" Jack supplies helpfully. "Nope, not weird at all." He looks as surprised as I feel.

"I thought kissing a man... kissing you, might be a little..."

"Yeah... strange," Jack agrees. He lifts both of his hands to my head and guides me back to his sweet mouth. I feel him press tiny kisses along my bottom lip, and then cautiously he trails his tongue along the line of my top lip. Finally I close my eyes and sigh into his kiss, quickly but again softly he sweeps his tongue into my open mouth, then just as gently withdraws, breaking the contact between us. Pressing my lips closed to retain his flavour, I keep my eyes shut as I drop my forehead to his.

"Nice," I say quietly. "Kissing you is nice."

His hands stay locked to the sides of my head, mine on his neck. "Sorry, Daniel, I'm such an emotionally fucked up asshole, I put you through hell, all because I couldn't say it. I wanted to, I swear..."

Jack

Daniel just smiles at me. I must have been some sort of saint in a former life to have this kind of karma land in my lap. Now all I need to do is hold it together and not freak out and ruin this. I have to admit that the kissing was pretty nice all things considered. Of course, I've thought about kissing Daniel before, but I could never imagine how a five o'clock shadow would feel, how it would be different from kissing Sara, or even Carter in that time-loop. Still don't know why I did that, just to see if she could thrill me the way Daniel did I guess. But different it is! When I kiss Daniel, there is a feeling of strength there, a solidity that is a real turn on. I cannot dominate this man, and why would I want to? I kiss, he kisses back: It's real!

I lift my head and search for his soft mouth again, but he leans back, pulling me with him onto the sofa. We land awkwardly, me half lying on Daniel. Laughing, we adjust our positions and start to get serious about the face sucking thing. Daniel's hands are in my hair, on my neck, running down my back and pulling my t-shirt up. Suddenly his strong fingers are on the bare skin of my back and the spasm that shoots to my groin has me groaning into his open mouth.

I kiss a path along his jaw and down his neck. Damn it, this is easy! It is still Daniel, still my best friend, still the guy I admire and trust above all else. What the hell was I waiting for?

"God, Jack" he sighs. "This can't be wrong. It feels so good!"

I try to agree while keeping lip contact with his skin and all I can make is a small squeaky sound. Fuck it, did I just whimper? USAF Colonel to pathetic pile of needy goo in the space of ten kisses? And with a thrill I can't stop right now to savour, I realise I don't care at all! I can whimper, moan and plead - I'm looking forward to that bit - all I want, because this is Daniel and he won't let me fall. I reach up to claim his mouth again but he jerks his head away from mine, and my eyes fly open in surprise to see the smug bastard smiling at me.

"I'm kissing you," he tells me, sliding his lips possessively over mine.

I draw back from his delicious warmth. No way, Jackson! "The hell you are!" I grind out, and use my hands to hold his head while I comprehensively suck all the air from his lungs.

I am becoming increasingly uncomfortable in my snug jeans and in an effort to relieve the pressure I shift onto my hip, bringing my groin into contact with... Oh My God! Suddenly we both still as the realisation that our very impatient and swollen cocks are only separated by a couple of layers of cloth. Slowly I bring my gaze up to his. There is amusement in his eyes and a tentative question, which he poses a moment later with an experimental roll of his hips. The feeling of his dick sweeping across mine has me biting my lip and thinking of icy showers to stop me coming right there and then.

"You okay?" he asks as he assesses my reaction. His blue eyes are almost black with lust, but he is sufficiently in control to make sure that I am not uncomfortable in any way.

" Okay doesn't begin to cover how I am, Daniel," I growl and press my hips forward in an effort to regain that exquisite friction. He swoops in with another kiss and enthusiastically moves his groin to meet up with mine... so enthusiastically in fact that he knocks me off the sofa onto my ass. That's twice in two days! He'll have to pay!

Laughing, he ignores my protests and puts his arms under mine and drags me back up so I am sitting with my back against his broad chest. He has one long leg on either side of my hips and I can feel his cock's warm swell against the small of my back. I slide my shoulders a little so I can lay my head back and nuzzle his jaw. Now I know why Sara used to grouse about the whisker burn, but I kind of like it.

Daniel's hand are tracing patterns on my chest, big sweeping circles, moving down to my abdomen, where he deftly puts his cool hands beneath my shirt again to renew skin contact. He runs his hands across my stomach muscles and up to my nipples, which harden and tingle as his touch glides across them again and again. The circles slowly and deliberately move south and his hands finally still at the waistband of my jeans.

"Still okay?" Daniel asks - his voice thick and low.

"Okay," I whisper, and drop my head back onto his shoulder as he unbuckles my belt and pops the buttons of my Levis. I feel giddy and I am actually shaking. It's okay. This is Daniel. It's Daniel. It's like I have split apart and three personalities are vying for control. One part of me, the horny part, is desperate to feel his hands on me, for the sweet release I crave, while another is screaming to get the fuck out of here as quickly as possible. The third part, and I pray the stronger part, is so awash with the newly realised love between us that it sees this as the most perfect and beautiful expression of our bond.

Daniel, as if sensing the internal struggle is moving oh-so-slowly, not wanting to scare me and prepared to stop at any moment. He pushes my jeans down off my hips and gently traces the outline of my erection with his finger before snagging the waistband of my boxers and releasing my straining dick from the soft cotton confines. He pauses to press reassuring kisses on the pulse points of my neck. Through my shoulders I can feel that he is shivering too and I close my eyes tightly as his gentle hand closes around me for the first time.

His long slender fingers begin to stroke a leisurely pace along the length of me and the shudders really begin to take me. I feel like every muscle in my body is clenched.

"Shhhhhhh," Daniel soothes, turning his head to breathe into my ear. I take huge gulps of air in an effort to comply and slowly my shaking subsides to more manageable levels. He keeps up his easy rhythm on my sensitive cock until our mouths meet in a searing kiss of shared determination - what we lack in experience we more than make up for in enthusiasm and willingness to learn. I feel him swallow nervously.

"Show me?" he asks. I crane my neck to look at him; he looks so out of his depth and somehow so young, chewing his lower lip with nerves. His hand fumbles for mine and, taking it, he places my confused fingers on my groin and realisation dawns in my lust addled mind. I put my hand on his and squeeze his long fingers tighter around my length before picking up where he left off with long, strong strokes, guiding his grip to tug harder and pull further than he had dared before.

His blue eyes are wide in wonder, tracking from my face to our hands entwined on my dick and I lay my head back again as I feel the familiar contraction in my balls build. My eyes are closed, but I know he is watching me and amazingly I'm okay with that too. Part of me can't believe that I'm basically letting Daniel watch me jerk off, but the majority is unruffled at showing Daniel me at my most vulnerable; it's an issue of trust - I get that - and another piece of my broken psyche slots seamlessly into place.

I begin to moan low in my throat with each breath and Daniel takes the initiative, gently moving my hand away and picking up the motion by himself. He rubs the side of his head against mine as I begin to pant faster and faster, my inarticulate groans getting louder. I'm close, so close. His breath gusts across my jaw and he whispers to me, "Jack, let go, I've got you."

For a split second I feel the shock of him speaking the words I had been thinking, then I'm falling, falling, like a long, slow dive. The ocean rushes up to meet me and I'm lost in its rolling waves.

Daniel

I stroke my free hand through Jack's hair and wait for him to come back to me. I have imagined this moment for so long, it has been the stuff of my dreams even before I admitted to myself what I felt for him. Still, I'm unprepared for the overwhelming emotions that swill through me. I try not to think of the women I have lain with in my admittedly rather sparse sex life, but I have never seen anything quite so erotic as Jack in the throws of an orgasm. His personality shines through even in this most primal moment; his release is joyous, life affirming and vocal. I can still feel the waves of happiness radiate from him.

And I know he is a guy, and basically happy to come in any way and as often as he can, but I feel included in a way I never did with Sarah or even with Sha'uri. Their climaxes with me were all for themselves, private and almost jealously guarded. Perhaps I am being unfair. Sha'uri and I slept in a room in her father's house with an animal skin for a door, hardly conducive to screaming each other's names when the moment came. But often after we had made love I would feel alone despite having her warm sleeping presence curled against me. Sarah would get up immediately afterwards and wash the evidence of our lovemaking from her skin.

Maybe the guilt was mine; perhaps I was the one who was guarded and unable to accept what they offered. But with Jack it's different; we are linked by more than words or circumstances, our seemingly opposite characters overlap at so many points after these years of shared experience. What is good for him is good for me and his generosity of spirit carries me along with him.

"What are you thinking?" Jack asks, his voice quiet and controlled once more although the overtones of a sated lover are clear to hear. His soft, intelligent eyes watch me warily as he slides around a little to enable him to see me more clearly. I realise that I still have his softening dick in my hand and his seed on my skin. He seems unconcerned by this ridiculously intimate posture, his head lying relaxed in the crook of my arm, and his gaze assessing me, challenging me to be freaked out by this. I drop a soft kiss on his forehead and gently slide his boxers back over his cock, surreptitiously wiping the semen from my hand and wrist on his jeans - hey I love the man, but this is the first time I've done this!

"I'm thinking about how beautiful you look when you come," I say. Where did that come from? I'm talking like I still had my tag on. Having a thoroughly debauched looking colonel in my lap and knowing I made him look that way seems to have hardwired the truth to my mouth again. Jack looks puzzled.

"Really?" he asks with a sleepy smile, which sets my groin twitching again, having relaxed a little after almost coming myself as I watched Jack climax. He just looked so blissfully abandoned and totally trusting, I don't know how I held it together. My interest has obviously been noted though as Jack arches his back against my erection. I jerk as the friction makes me hiss.

Suddenly he leaps up from my lap and hurries from the room. I can't believe it! I sit there, rather stupidly, running over the last few words of our conversation to see what would have made him take off like that and coming up with nothing, I start to get up to find him.

At that moment he bounds back into the room, drops to the floor in front of me and proceeds to gently wipe the come from my hand with a warm washcloth. As he strokes each finger clean he presses a small kiss to the pads of my finger tips until the whole hand is cleaned to his satisfaction. He takes my index finger into his mouth and gently bites the length of it, all the time holding my gaze. His eyes look positively ravenous and I must look quite shocked to go by the wolfish grin he curls around my finger.

I am keenly aware of where Jack has settled, as it means I can't close my legs to hide the straining fabric over my almost painful cock. Jack glances down as my dick takes on a life of its own and lets my finger slip from his lips. He drops the cloth and, looking briefly up at me for permission, starts to work on the zipper and button that contain my impatient length. His hands on the material make me swell even more and as Jack yanks at my clothing it is with an audible thud that my thick, heavy cock lands on my stomach.

Jack

If someone had told me forty-eight hours ago that I would be on my knees and between Daniel's legs, I would have laughed at them - and then punched them out, obviously. But here I am, doing my best impression of confident, and unable to tear my eyes from Daniel's dick. I mean I have seen it before - you don't shower with a guy for four years without getting a pretty good idea of what his body looks like - but never quite so close up or so... motivated before. It's kind of perfect, sleek and long... very long... in fact how in hell am I going to...? Okay! Okay! Getting ahead of myself and starting to freak.

This seemed like a really good idea when I started - he made my brain leak out of my ears, so the least I could do was to return the compliment, but now I'm not feeling quite so sure. I sit back on my heels and take in the fuller picture. Daniel has one arm thrown up over his eyes, the other rests on his smooth taut stomach. He is looking down at me from under the arm he is hiding behind, his ridiculously long lashes framing wary blue eyes. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes are heavy, and his skin- it's like a pale golden colour when you get up really close. Fuck, he is so hot! He burns like a sun, I know suns, even been through one once - this is hotter! Despite the work out it just received, my cock starts to harden again.

He shifts uncomfortably and the lip chewing has started again. Right, taking too long here. I can do this, this is not at all weird or sick or embarrassing or any of a million other words I can think of to describe this scene. This is Daniel, the man I love, the man who loves me.

"Jack," he whispers. "You don't have to do anything you feel uncomfortable with. I'm happy to just... Faaaaaahhhhhk."

Well what a novel way to silence my archaeologist, who'd have thought? His hand shoots down to my head as I take his twitching dick into my mouth and swirl my tongue round the sensitive head. I seem to have his undivided attention now as I slide my lips from him and start to lick long, slow swipes up the underside of his length. His hand clutches convulsively in my hair and his litany of "Oh Jack" and "Oh God" is very gratifying for a first timer like me. And once again, the weirdest part is that this is not weird at all. Thinking about it is weird, getting ready to do it is strange, but actually doing it? It's the easiest thing in the world. I feel so bold I take him into my mouth again and swallow as far as I can... easy... until Daniel thrusts his hips up to increase the contact between us and almost chokes me. I splutter and release him, leaning back to catch my breath.

"Oh my God, Jack, I'm so sorry, I couldn't help it..." Daniel is babbling and he leans forward to try and help me. Poor Danny, his face is a picture of remorse and embarrassment. Recovering myself, I put a hand on his chest and push him back down. Then pointedly placing my hands on his hips and with a smile I go back to what I was doing. His dick has subsided a bit with the shock of almost choking me, but I run my mouth down him again and he rallies quickly. Within a minute his moans tumble from his lips continuously and I know we are reaching the moment of truth.

I have learned my lesson now; don't think, just do. I close my mouth around him and suck hard, once, twice, and the third is the charm.

Don't think.

He shouts my name.

Don't think.

His come hits the back of my throat, it's hot, bitter and salty and it seems to go on forever.

Don't think.

I swallow reflexively, my hands kneading the soft skin of his hips.

Don't think.

I hang on until his shuddering body slumps back boneless onto the sofa. Slowly I let him slip from my mouth and look up at him.

I think.

I think I have never seen a more perfect sight in my life. He is sweaty and red faced, his breathing is laboured and his eyes are shut. As quickly as my poor complaining knees will allow, I climb up beside him and gather him into my arms. I kiss his relaxed mouth, soft and deep and he sleepily hums into my open lips.

"I love you," I tell him as I let him catch his breath. Now that makes him open his eyes and I see such a depth of devotion revealed in them that my simple declaration seems inadequate and poor by comparison. I crush him to me. "God, Daniel, I love you," I breathe into his hair. The strength of my embrace and the desperation with which I hang on are attempts to get across to him what my limited vocabulary can't. Please understand, Danny, you are so much better at this stuff than I am, if you don't get it this way, you may never know - and I need you to know.

I will the depth of my feeling through my skin and into his and in a heartbeat he is with me, clutching, grasping, clinging on to me as we make this silent promise. I bury my face in his hair and wipe away the tears he knows are in my eyes. I'm never letting go.

Daniel

It's fully dark now outside. I sit on Jack's bed and am once again struck by the paradigm shift of the last twenty-four hours. I can still see where I buried my head only last night, trying to avoid his scornful words and now I'm listening to every noise he makes, waiting for him to return from the shower.

My laptop is open but my mind is wandering and I take in only one word in every four that I read. I career from insane happiness to abject terror at the turn events have taken. We have begun something that has a momentum all of its own, and we have no way of knowing where it will land us. In truth I'd like a day or two to think about it, but this is Jack we're discussing here; reflective pauses are not his forte. And, if I'm honest, the overwhelming desire I have to stick to him like glue might make personal space issues a problem for a while at least!

"You going somewhere?" Jack asks quietly.

Deep in thought, I have missed him leaving the bathroom and from the evidence of his tray of toast and coffee, also his assault on the kitchen. I quickly close my laptop. "No. Why?"

"You got dressed again," Jack smiles, although he looks a little rattled.

"I didn't know if you wanted to... that is I don't want to assume..."

"I do and you didn't," Jack replies with a more confident grin. I blame my lack of verbal acuity on Jack's lack of attire. The towel around his hips really doesn't seem up to the job of preserving his modesty. My eyes sweep across his torso, visually mapping the contours of his body, recognising many of the scars he wears and wondering about others.

He places the tray on the nightstand and snags two of the slices of toast. He throws himself down on the bed, coming to rest on his stomach, his long legs hanging over the edge. Passing one slice to me, he bites into the other.

"Whatcha doin'?" he mumbles, his mouth full of toast.

"Bit of research," I reply - evasive and embarrassed. He eyes me thoughtfully but continues to demolish his snack. We munch in a slightly strained silence until I get up to retrieve our mugs. When I turn back to give Jack his coffee, he is already in the bed, his damp towel flung to the floor. He pats the vacant side and grins triumphantly, but this quickly fades to be replaced by a watchful, nervous gaze.

"Are you sure, Jack?" I feel I have to ask him one more time.

"Very sure, Daniel. And you know it's the truth."

And still I hesitate,.

He holds his hand out and I pass him the mug of coffee. I see from his quick frown that isn't what he expected, but he takes it and swallows a mouthful.

Unable to meet his eye, I begin to pace around the bedroom, picking things up, putting them down again. He waits patiently and I sometimes forget that this side of him exists. His work persona is so... so... big and loud, people overlook that this man was a loving husband and father. He has a tenderness few people would guess at and that I am privileged to be an occasional recipient of.

With my back to him, I pick up a picture of us at a barbecue held here last summer and I talk to the image of Jack with his arm around me, both of us smiling like idiots into the camera.

"I'm scared, Jack," I begin. "I'm afraid this might not be what you truly want. What if they take that tag off you tomorrow and when you look at me again I'm not worth the risk? You could lose your job over this... or worse. What if this doesn't work out and we lose everything we have become to each other? What if you only want me now because of the tag and you're thinking with your heart, not your head? And even if you do still want me, how can we ever keep this a secret and make it work? What if...?"

A hand on my shoulder silences me and makes me jump. Jack gently takes the picture from my hands before turning me around to face him.

"I have been thinking all this stuff too, Daniel," Jack says holding me by the shoulders and looking into my averted face. "I don't have the answers to any of those questions, but I can tell you this; you have been the focus of my life for some time now, not the SGC, not the fight against the Goa'uld. You. All this thing has done is to let me be truthful with myself and stop all the brick-wall bullshit I've been building between us. You are my future, you are what I need to be happy, Daniel. When they get this thing off me tomorrow that will not have changed, only how I deal with it will. I know that to give you up again would be more than I could bear. And I know I won't be able to tell you all this sappy shit again, and I know I will need help with dealing with the issues of being head over heels in love with a six foot, stubborn, genius, double PhD. Don't give up on me already, Danny, I WILL sort it out, it might not be quick, but I will get there."

He's done it again! My mind will not form a coherent sentence and I stand there, round-eyed and with my mouth open. He kisses me swiftly but gently on the lips and saunters back to bed. Rather stupidly, I finish the kiss that Jack began, by which time he is calmly sipping coffee already tucked up. Only at this point does my mind register that Jack has been naked during this heartfelt exchange.

Jack

Daniel drains his coffee in one long pull. His hair is still damp from the shower and he looks so gorgeous barefoot in his jeans and un-tucked shirt. I can't wait to climb into his arms and take up residence for the rest of my life. He takes a deep breath and unbuttons his shirt, pulling it off his strong shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. I feel a stupid smile land itself on my face and try as I might, it won't go.

And it's been spotted.

"Jack..." Daniel whines.

I go for innocent and fail by about 100%.

"What?" I ask, wrestling the grin off and plastering on hurt for a moment. Daniel stalks over to the switch and cuts the lights. In the blue glow from the risen moon I can still make out the shape of my love, shucking his jeans and putting his glasses on the nightstand before his weight dips the bed beside me. I wait until he is settled, and then tentatively stretch out a hand to rest on his chest, hard and warm and so unlike anything I have experienced before.

"I know you are still grinning, Jack," Daniel tells me a little petulantly.

I lean over and kiss him as best I can, with a smile I can't remove. He snakes an arm around my shoulders and I gratefully cuddle up to him. He absentmindedly strokes my shoulders and hair until his soothing hand encounters the tag. For a moment we both still, then he slowly begins to pet me again with long light touches.

"This is gonna be okay, right?" he asks quietly after a while.

"I don't know, Daniel. We'll do our best," I reply with an honesty I would rather have saved for another time. I listen to the beat of his heart settle to a steady, slow rhythm. "Daniel," I whisper when he doesn't follow up my comment.

"Hmmm?" He makes a sleepy soft noise.

"You sleeping now?" I ask, torn between how much I want to explore his beautiful body and how cosy and safe I feel in his arms. He doesn't reply - I guess that solves that problem.

When I wake again, a pair of sparkling eyes startle me, colour leached from them by the night. He doesn't react, just continues to stare, his blinks getting longer and longer as fatigue drags him down again.

"Just checking," he sighs as his eyes close and he drifts away.

Next time he surfaces, he wakes to find me watching him. I can't take my eyes off him as his memory clues him in on why he is in bed with me. The sleepy smile that curls across his lips causes reaction in me I can't find a name for. Nothing comes even close to the peaceful joy I feel.

"You're still here," I whisper to him, awed into lowering my voice. I have been watching him sleep for a little while, trying to come to terms with the rush of feelings that only now in the still hours before dawn, have I found time to examine. I wonder how I could have got through the years I have known this man, keeping all this love that I now recognise, hidden from him. It's a wonder I didn't go insane, bottling all this up.

It is a force of nature, like a flood, raging and heedless but also like a sunrise, gentle, warming and welcome. How can I have done such a good job of lying to myself that I didn't realise how deeply I felt this? Yes, I knew I loved him but it was always in an abstract way, something that could never be anything but happy memories and achingly sweet dreams. But this? This is meaning of life stuff to me. I almost feel pain as my breath hitches in my chest.

"I nearly never had this," I tell Daniel, who is fully awake now and gazing at me in concern.

"I know," he agrees quietly.

"I could have gone my whole life, and never have known what this feels like, Daniel. I would have gone on loving you and letting you get close to me and then pushing you away each time I got freaked out by it. What kind of a man does that make me?"

"It's the drug, Jack. I found that it made the truths in my head louder too. I couldn't hide from myself either."

"Tomorrow, when they take this off, I'll be able to repress all this stuff again? Go back to denying it?"

Daniel hesitates, his eyes lowered, before he nods his head. I catch the glitter of unshed tears webbing his long eyelashes. "For me, once it was out, I didn't want to put it away again - I don't think I have the room to cram all this... emotion back in again anyway. It overwhelmed me. But we need to be able to function in a rational manner and once the tag is gone you will be able to do that again, choose what to tell and what to hide." Daniel still hasn't met my eye and for someone who is lying beside me, he feels about a million miles away right now.

I cup his chin in my hand and turn his head so his eyes lock onto mine.

"Then I'd better tell you now," I say.

And I do.

Daniel

I stare at my hand entwined in Jack's, lying on the pillow between our heads. How similar in size our hands are, his slightly broader and square, mine longer and slimmer, but not smaller, like the other hands I have held in intimate moments. I know Jack has stopped speaking. I should be saying something in response to his words but I just want to let them settle in my heart to keep there forever, before I try to respond. Even after all that happened yesterday, all the surprises and the misunderstandings I had no idea, no clue that Jack had all this within him.

Now I can trust myself to speak, I cannot think of a damn thing to say. I hope I am worthy? Thank you? Why didn't you tell me sooner? I just blink at him, stupidly. What words could I possibly find that would go a tenth of the way to expressing what I feel after his declaration? He watches me, patiently awaiting a response, a small smile playing across his thin lips. Words are not going to do it this time - as hard as that might be for a linguist to admit.

Never taking my eyes away from his, I untangle my hand and raise myself above him, forcing him to lie on his back. I place my hands on either side of his head and settle my weight between his legs then fold my body down on his, inch by delicious inch until we are nose to nose. He sighs in contentment as our bodies adjust to the feel of each other and our libidos get up to speed.

I press a soft kiss on his welcoming mouth. As I stoop for a second touch he parts his lips and tilts his head to give us maximum contact. I slide my tongue slowly and deliberately into his warm mouth, stroking and tasting my way. He groans softly and the gentle vibration snakes straight to my groin. I kiss him harder and stretch and flex my body against his. The hard contours of his belly and shoulders are thrilling to me in a way I had not expected and the rub of the dusting of hair across his chest and down his body excites me still more.

I had expected to need time to adjust to the feel of a man against me. I thought the differences would give me cause to take it slow, but I want to know every inch of his body now, and I hungrily begin to work my way around his perfect form with kisses and licks and tiny bites. Jack begins to arch up beneath me, growling low in his throat as his hands possess my back and my ass. He drags my hips against his hard and the motion brings our newly awakened cocks into a charged contact at which we both cry out. My kisses and nips get harder in response to Jack's unspoken demands and I'm sucking and biting at him harder than I would ever have dared with a female lover. We slide against each other, panting, needy noises coming from both of us. Desperate to increase the contact between us, I grab at Jack's shoulders as I roll off and pull him onto me. It doesn't slow us down one iota. Jack eagerly picks up the pace of our lovemaking, pressing hot kisses on my eyes, lips, neck, anywhere he can reach.

"If we are gonna do this we need..." I growl at him.

"Got it," he hisses back and leaps from the bed with more athleticism than I have seen in many a mission.

I hear crashes and curses from the bathroom and then he is back, his lips crushing mine as he fumbles a container into my hand. With my free hand I grasp the back of his neck and guide him back down onto the bed and position myself between his spread thighs. He looks so fucking sexy, so abandoned and uninhibited; my dick aches at the sight of him. I sit back on my heels and pop the lid open on the container - I guess it's Vaseline. I look up into his heavily lidded eyes.

"Jack," is all I have time to say before he cuts me off.

"Do it, Daniel. I need you, I want this, do it, please," he pants out, his voice thick and low with lust. I'm shaking as I squeeze some of the slippery stuff into my palm, whether from passion or abject terror I'm not sure. I shift to lie beside him and let my nails rake across his tummy and down the inside of his thigh. I swallow his groans as I gently bite at his bottom lip.

"Daniel," he pleads, eyes shut and head thrown back.

"Shhhh, we have to do this slowly or I'll hurt you," I tell him, although every instinct I have tells me to jump on and nail him. He whimpers in accord and I can see him attempt to get his breathing under control. I move a pillow from behind my head and put it under his hips. Now the Vaseline has warmed in my palm, I stroke a light finger from his balls to his spine, making him shudder. Again and again I gently trace this path, feeling the slipperiness from my hand transfer itself to his beautiful ass. Finally I place a finger at his opening and gently slide it past the tight muscle. Christ, but it is hot and tight, there is barely room for one finger, when the website said... okay, calm down.

Jack's jaw is clenched and his hands are fists. I can see he is trying to believe in me; he frowns and bites his lip as he breathes through the shock. Desperate to help him, I do the only thing I can think of and slide my lips down his perfect dick.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh," he sighs, and I feel the resistance against my finger slacken enough to let me slide right into him and slowly back out again. Encouraged by his response I continue to slowly and gently caress the length of him with my mouth as I ease my finger back and forth, preparing him for the next shock. I feel him begin to stiffen again as I press two fingers against him, but me taking him as far as I can into my mouth surprises him enough to let me enter.

"It's okay, Jack, you can trust me," I whisper to him, kissing my way up to his navel.

"I know, it just feels... different," he explains.

"Just give me a chance to show you that this can feel fantastic," I tell him, conveying a confidence I know I should not be feeling. But this seems so right and natural. I know about the mechanics of two men together, and ten minutes on the internet gave me enough ideas to see us through tonight, but even if I had not had that knowledge, I know that Jack and I would have wound up making love and no matter how technically imperfect it would have been, it would still have been beautiful. This is more than what goes where, and who should do what. This is me and Jack, doing what we have been doing, unknowingly, for years - loving each other.

Jack

His voice sounds so calm; it's soothing and almost hypnotic as he speaks words of encouragement to me. I am in a kind of daze. I feel his lips on my body, his breath warm against my skin, his fingers on me and... in me. But all the while I feel detached, floating almost. Don't get me wrong, my body responds in a way I never thought to feel again, such a passion and heat between us, it's like a living thing.

But it is somehow more than our physical connection I feel. Like opening my eyes for the first time, I see that Daniel and I have been moving towards this since first we met. It was as inevitable as the tide coming in and just as powerful. I don't know what would have pushed me into admitting my love for him, maybe, coward that I am, I would have waited for Daniel to make the first move, but I like to think that I would have turned up at his door on the day after my retirement with coffee beans, chocolate and my heart on a platter.

Daniel moves onto his knees between my thighs, his eyes very bright, though the darkness steals the pink flush I know stains his golden tanned skin. I must admit that my thoughts in the shower had me where he is right now, but I am so gone on this man, I don't care how we are together, as long as we are.

He rubs his hands up and down my torso with a touch soft enough to raise goose bumps. As I feel his hot, hard cock find its mark, he starts to rub firm soothing circles on my stomach. Nudging my thighs further apart he takes a deep breath and eases into me. He must have used more Vaseline because as uncomfortable as I feel, I sense the slippery eagerness behind his tender pressure. Suddenly this is all very real and the serene sensations of earlier are replaced abruptly by the more immediate concerns.

"Ohgod! Jack, you have to relax," Daniel pants. I can feel the shaking of his body transmitted into mine. "Breathe with me, Jack?" he asks, his eyes boring into mine as I struggle to stay calm.

Poor Danny. He looks terrified, although he is covering it with a veneer of confidence. Despite him taking the lead, I know he has never done this before either. It is almost as if we are both living this moment on two levels - the freaked out one and the spiritual one. In our eyes and our voices both sides are apparent, only each other's presence keeps us from falling apart and freaking out totally: holding it together for the other.

Daniel begins to breathe audibly. He lays his hands on my stomach and chest. Long, slow measured breaths match his fingers gently stroking and I do my best to imitate him. I shift my weight slightly to give Daniel an easier angle and hook my left leg around his hips, easing him towards me. I am rewarded by a brief, glowing smile for this encouragement.

We breathe in time together, our in and out breaths connecting us. With each exhalation he moves further inside me, deeper, inch by smooth hard inch; so gentle, so demanding, so tender, so relentless. I reach up a hand to his chest where he leans over me and I am unsurprised by the fact that our hearts also beat in unison. He sighs and then smiles brilliantly down at me, a sight so pure I feel a lump form in my throat.

"Oh, God, Jack. That is amazing. Do you feel that? I'm there, Jack. Are you okay?" he whispers. I have so many conflicting reactions to his question; I don't trust myself to speak. I try to give him a reassuring smile, but he's not buying it. "Jack, I'm hurting you?" he asks, tensing in preparation to move away from me. I wrap my arms around him and hook my other leg behind his waist to hold him still.

"Yes, it hurts a little, but it feels good too. Just give me a minute," I reply, running my jaw across his hair. We lie quiet for the space of two-dozen shared heartbeats, then I tense my thighs to lift my ass a little, drawing Daniel in a little further in the process. It is the single most amazing, yet scary feeling having Daniel so intimately connected with me. I feel a physical discomfort as my muscles strain to accommodate him, but I also feel a wonderful sense of fullness and belonging. It's a fulfilment I know I can only find with this man, who knows me - all of me and is not afraid of the darkest parts or burned by the brightest.

He raises his head from my body and searches my face for a clue. I project trust and love at him, feelings he must have received as he tentatively begins to rock his hips, building a delicious friction between my flagging erection and his stomach. Moving his stance slightly, Daniel begins to stroke harder and with more confidence and suddenly at his change of angle, I get a jolt of pleasure that rips from my groin into every nerve in my body and has me gasping in pleasure.

Daniel watches my face with concern, slowing his thrusts.

"No, it's good," I mutter. "Don't stop." Again with the angelic smile and he picks up the pace once again. My dick reawakens after the shock of Daniel's entry and fills so fast my head spins. He studies my gasps and moans and quickly understands that when he strokes in a certain way I see stars. With a sly grin he makes sure he hits the spot more often than he misses it. I am fit to burst and am almost incoherent with desire. Daniel's face and chest are slick with sweat which beads and drips onto my belly and chest in cool, sweet, staccato drops. His head is thrown back and he is biting his full bottom lip.

Suddenly he drops his head down, our eyes meet and I know he is so close. I nod once, quickly as I feel my own wave cresting. Daniel roughly seizes my cock and the mere sight of him holding my dick while buried deep inside me brings down the thunder as we both yell out our completion.

Daniel

Wow!

Jack

Wow!

Daniel

Jack and I exchange uneasy glances as we wait for the ramp to clear from the last mission in. Jack is unnaturally quiet after almost disclosing our day old relationship to the security detail on the gate. Who'd have thought a simple, "Did you see the game last night, Colonel O'Neill?" could have caused so much trouble? Jack had launched into a spirited reply about having better things to do... like me, when I threw myself across the cab, clapping a hand over his mouth and making the guard look at us as if we were insane.

Having safely made it through the medical and mercifully short briefing, Jack is taking no more chances. Strangely enough his silence draws more attention to us than his usual sarcastic wit.

"So, you never told me what you thought of Janet's jacket the other night, Jack," I offer with a small smile. He blinks once or twice, and then returns my gesture with a smile of his own.

"You were right, Daniel, it looked like road kill," he murmurs. He recognises a diversionary tactic when he sees one, but his eyes tell me he appreciates the gesture.

Finally the room is clear except for the normal SF's and us and the gate begins to spell out the address of P9R 753.

"Ready?" I ask in an undertone as the dialling cycle reaches its crescendo. Jack glances at me quickly and registers the layers of meaning in my single word. He nods and leads the way up the ramp.

We both squint into the spring sunshine as we step out of the event horizon and I wave a greeting at the Cadith guardsmen. The gate disengages behind us with its customary whoosh almost drowned out by the explosive sigh from Jack. He rubs a hand over his face and flashes me a wry smile.

"Nearly blew it there, Dannyboy," he mutters. I'm pleased to hear him use that stupid nickname; I've been watching him all morning becoming more and more unsettled. I think I know what is rattling him; ever since we lay in each other's arms in the combined afterglow of our lovemaking and the new dawn's light, he has been running over the outcome of today in his head. He has not said so of course, and if I asked him outright, he would normally say everything was fine. Today he does not have that option.

"Nervous?" I ask him gently.

"Utterly terrified," Jack admits with feeling. "What if I turn back into that asshole I was yesterday?" He doesn't wait for a reply, but starts off in the direction of his fate at a brisk pace.

"We'll deal with it when we get to it, Jack" I say, matching his stride step for step.

"You're not gonna argue? About the asshole thing?" he enquires, quirking an eyebrow at me.

"You said it, and you can only speak the truth."

He smiles at that and we continue along the path, talking of nothing and everything, just like we always used to. God, I've missed him.

I notice Jack's pace is slowing as we approach the city and I adjust mine without comment, unsurprised when he finally grinds to a halt and turns to me. I wait for him to speak, but he reaches a hand behind my neck and pulls me in for a slow, soft, lingering kiss. I open my mouth to reproach him for breaking our "not on missions" rule within the first hour, but he smothers my objections with another kiss, his warm dry lips silencing me in the best way possible.

"I know, Daniel," he sighs, pre-empting my lecture. He takes my face between his hands and looks into my eyes as if seeking to imprint them on his memory. "Whatever I turn into after... . all this, you know this was real, right? All the things I said, they cannot be anything but the truth. So if I find I can't... I mean, if I'm not able to... Shit, I'm so bad at this." He looks away, not relinquishing his grasp on my face. I touch a hand to his cheek and bring his gaze back to mine.

"I know, Jack," I reassure him. "I'll understand."

I thank whatever gods watch over lying lovers that I had my tag removed yesterday. If he blocks me out again after today I'll accept it, hell, I'll even forgive him but I will never understand it. I just pray that the connection I felt to him when we were together last night went both ways and that the strength of it is greater than two decades of military conditioning.

"You might, but I never will," he whispers and pressing one last hard kiss on me, he strides off towards the city leaving me to suck up my last reserves of determination and follow him.

As we reach the gates of the city, I catch him up. I see him glance across at me as I match his pace and he gives a slight nod. We walk the final distance to the palace shoulder to shoulder. If this is anything, it is a partnership of equals. I know when to back off and let him take the lead and I know when my skills mean that I have to take charge, but this is one of the times where we both have a vested interest in proceedings and side by side is the only way to see this one through.

Jack

We walk up the steps of the Palace of Justice still in unison. Years of doing just this, walking in step, suddenly make sense to me. He was right to catch me, a subtle reminder that I am not alone in the upcoming trial and offering his quiet strength. I have leaned on Daniel before now but it was out of necessity. I have gained comfort from his presence before now, but it was given in innocence. This is one of the things I must learn to adjust if we have any hope of a life together. I am not alone anymore. I have this amazing, trusting man to provide balance and reason for my existence. I think I could get used to that.

Daniel has never really been mine to command, not in the way Carter, or even Teal'c, are. I give an order; they comply - sometimes even against their better judgement, but not Daniel. Never Daniel. He questions everything, weighs up each direction and obeys his conscience at all times. Sometimes it drives me wacko; sometimes it's kind of funny to watch. And sometimes it costs us, but I love that he does it. It challenges me, opens me up to other options. I push him, he pushes me right back. There is no passive partner in this... well, I guess it's a relationship, just two different kinds of alpha.

We are sped through the halls to where the rest of the Earth delegation is already waiting. Carter and Teal'c immediately join us and give a quick, no frills report of their stay. A technician comes to confirm the status of my tag and we are back into the twenty questions game. Strichland sits on one side of me and Daniel on the other and despite having my brain picked and being unable to modulate my responses I feel safe - which surprises me. I answer their questions, occasionally asking Daniel to clarify a point for me, which they then verify, by asking me if he was telling the truth.

It's so easy to answer their questions in fact that I am shocked when they stop and invite us to eat with them, the necessary answers having been given. The SGC diplomatic corps swing into action and with all the smiling and hand shaking going on, I am somewhat relieved to find that I have been left behind in this now quiet room.

So much has happened in the last three days, shifting at a fundamental level, my view of the world. And now comes the hardest part of all, finding out if I am tough enough to be the man I want to be and the man that Daniel thinks I am.

Having Daniel reveal his heart was electrifying. Deciding to have my tag fitted was easy and watching his face, as I was able to speak the words that had been whispering to my soul for so long, was the sweetest gift, but now it is payback time. They will remove this damn button on my neck and it will all be down to me to make sure this works and that I can give my love what he needs. Daniel has proved that he can and that he thinks I am worth the sacrifices to be made. I pray that the other O'Neill, the one from forty-eight hours ago, will be as brave.

A slight shuffling jerks my attention back into the room. Daniel is leaning by the door, hands in his pockets, watching me over the top of his glasses. My fingers itch, wanting to slide them back up his nose.

"Hi," he says. "Do you want some food or shall we find someone to...?" He gestures at his neck.

"Let's just get this over with shall we?" I mutter.

"Come on then," Daniel replies and goes to hold out a hand to me. He hastily puts it back in his pocket when he realises his mistake and with an amused twinkle in his eyes he gestures towards the exit with his shoulders.

Daniel

As he brushes past in the doorway, deliberately making contact with me, I am reminded of when he came to get me from Abydos. He pushed past me on his way to get to Skarra and did not acknowledge my presence until he was ready to. I never thought of it until now, I figured it was just Jack putting me in my place, but now I wonder if he was as excited to see me as I was to see him and he did not want to show it. Maybe I'll ask him sometime... or not.

We find Milla at the reception being held in our honour and drag her away from the finger food and music into the privacy of her office. It is a much less impersonal room than others we have seen in the building. There are shelves of electronic slates that pass as books on this planet, potted plants and even pictures on the walls. By the time I have finished looking round the room and look back to Jack, Milla has already removed the tag and is dropping it into a small ceramic dish. She clicks a small device containing the antidote into Jack's neck.

"Oh!" I exclaim rather stupidly.

Jack looks at the slightly bloody pin and prods at it with a finger. "Are these reusable?" he asks.

"Er... no," Milla says with a puzzled frown. "I understood that you were an unwanted candidate"

"Unwilling," I correct her with a small smile. She nods her head in thanks.

"I was," Jack replies and he looks from Milla to me. "But it also ... helped me with a few things." He is still staring directly at me, Milla cannot but recognise that he is talking about me, Jack is being so obvious. I remember the disorientation I felt when my tag was removed and all my barriers slammed back into place. I guess that Jack is busy processing that and not considering that he is giving us away with his looks and words.

"Would it be all right if we waited here until Jack feels better," I ask quickly, trying to draw Milla's attention away from Jack's odd behaviour.

"Are you feeling not well?" she asks him, landing all her regard squarely where I did not intend.

"I'm fine."

"He's fine," we both answer together, doing nothing to allay her suspicions.

"I will return to the reception then. Please come and find me if you need anything," she says. She shoots a small knowing smile in my direction as she leaves the room.

I let out a groan as the door shuts.

"Jack, she knows!" I whine.

"Nah, she suspects," he counters. He moves over to the windows and quickly scans outside before coming to stand in front of me. "Ask me something," he challenges with a lift of his chin. He is deliberately too close to me for this to be entirely insignificant. My heart does a little flip-flop thing, hoping that he has discovered his feelings for me are unchanged.

"Okay, who was the Egyptian god of embalming?" I ask, taken by surprise.

"Ummmmm, don't know, don't care?" Jack replies in a tetchy manner. "Come on, Daniel, a question question!"

"Would you like me to tell you the answer?" I ask innocently.

"Yes, Daniel, please, a lecture on Ancient Egyptian mythological figures is exactly what I need when I am..."

"Does that answer your question?" I interrupt quietly. He stops and makes a "What?" face at me. "You are lying, Jack, you don't want to hear my lecture but you said you did - unnecessarily sarcastically I thought," I tell him.

A smile spreads across his face.

"Ask me another," he demands, childlike but still not backing away.

"Sam's hair?" I ask, all wide-eyed innocence.

"Nice, very natural," he replies with narrowed eyes.

"Janet's jacket?" I press.

"Great fabric, very fashionable. Really suited her," he smiles wickedly.

"Do you love me?" I ask him. The smile on his face fades and I suddenly wish I had not asked him that way. I drop my head to avoid his eyes. He's taking too long to answer and I know I've blown it by pushing him. "Sorry, Jack, that was stupid," I mutter. I turn my face towards the window, fighting to breathe past the lump in my throat.

"Daniel Jackson," Jack says firmly but quietly. "You know that I do."

"I do?" I ask, my mouth dropping open. "Do what?" My heart is flipping and flopping and I can't breathe for a whole new set of reasons.

"Know."

"Know what?"

"That thing you said," he huffs.

"What thing?" I'm starting to enjoy this. I turn back to look at him, all innocence.

"The... love thing," Jack says quickly. And he actually looks embarrassed. Oh, this promises to be fun.

"What, that you love me?" I continue.

"Yes," he agrees gruffly.

"Are you sure, because I can't hear...?"

"Damn it, Daniel! I love you, all right? More than life itself, more than..." Then he gets a look at my smug smile. He tries to look stern, but I can see the amused twinkle in his chocolate eyes.

"Oh, you're good, Daniel," Jack growls at me.

I can't resist. "So you said, last night... several times... shouted it, in fact..."

With a pat on my cheek and a goofy smile plastered across his face, he heads out of the room. I join him and after a brief scuffle at the door I emerge second on our way to join the rest of our team at the reception. He may have got through the door first this time, but my goofy grin is way bigger.

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