~Sappho (trans. Mary Barnard)

The moment I slid between the covers, the cool sheets reminded me how tired I was. The soothing feeling of a comfortable bed tried to lull me to sleep, but I couldn't. Nervousness kept me from dropping off. I stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling, waiting. My hands ran over the mattress, the physical contact reminding me of reality.

I was in Jack O'Neill's bed.

I knew it was so, but the concept didn't want to settle in my mind. The novelty of this experience sent a shiver down my spine. The suddenness of it sent a shiver of a completely different frisson. There was nothing ambitious planned for us that night. I wore boxers and a shirt, clothes that Jack gave me since my stay was definitely impromptu. He even put out a set for himself before I grabbed the proffered clothes in a mad dash for the shower.

"Stay the night?"

"Jack, I..."

"I know, this is sudden. No funny stuff, I promise. Contrary to my image, I'm not into the 'get laid the first night' school of relationships."

"Funny stuff?"

"Well, if you're taking offense to my sense of humor - "

"Everyone does."

"Hey! Okay, very funny, smart ass. No, just you and me."

"Good. I, uh, hope you don't mind taking this slowly?"

"Nope, don't mind at all. As long as I have you, I'm fine with it."

I wasn't ready for jumping into the deep end, so to speak. I was a novice to these waters. Our relationship needed to deepen to that intimate level, first. I needed to adjust to this development before we did anything else. But lying in his bed, I could understand how nervous Sha're was the first time I really saw her. Well, technically, all of her. I wouldn't have the guts to lower my clothes in front of someone, even if duty demanded it. Especially if duty demanded it. Poor Jack, to have such a repressed new lover.

Fantasies are one thing, but realizing this fantasy in particular would be another story.

Jack seemed confident, and I still say he seduced me. That week in particular had left us with our nerves shot from a very stressful mission. Negotiations had gone wrong, and we very nearly lost Jack. The miracle of it was that we came from it almost intact. Sam had scratches, and Jack was bruised. I tried to keep my cool throughout, especially with Teal'c's help, but once Jack was safe, I must have let something slip. He invited me over, and my unrequited love suddenly became something a whole lot more.

He kissed me when we were sitting on the couch. A long and lingering brush against my lips. It left me breathless.

"Daniel?"

"Uh... yeah?"

"You okay?"

"Sure... Jack, you kissed me."

"Your observational skills are amazing. Did you like it?"

"Yeah. I did. For a more detailed analysis, uh, if you want it, I'd say you're an eight."

"Only?"

"Lots of room for improvement."

"Now that is corny."

"Thanks. Jack? Why did you kiss me?"

"Because... I wanted to say thanks for everything you've done."

"What?"

"You know, being there for me. Talking that big whacko out of getting a new trophy for his head collection. That stuff."

"Oh."

"And... it was my way of saying... you know."

"Oh. Oh! Me, too."

"So you and me..."

"Together?"

"Yeah. Problem?"

"No. No problem. Actually, no problem at all. If you're sure..."

"Oh, yeah."

"Do it again?"

"I like the way you think."

I touched my lips, remembering how it felt. His lips were so gentle. The heat and taste of him were thrilling. The very idea I would be getting a lot more sent a shock down my spine that curled my toes.

Jack's bed was firm, but not so hard as to be uncomfortable. It probably had springs to support his poor aching back. I guessed the left side was his, since the nightstand was covered with his things. I could see newspapers, a mug, the lamp, an actual book and the alarm clock; similar things were spread over my own bedside table. My preference was for the right side, and my glasses already occupied the surface. This was almost feeling like home.

I could hear him in the shower, taking his time. He was singing, what sounded like an opera. The words were mangled, but I didn't mind as I listened. He didn't have that bad of a voice. He didn't sing a lot in the showers on base, though I remembered one post-mission cleanup where he and an oddly exuberant Teal'c partook in a singing match. Two songs of different styles, not to mention worlds, trying to drown each other out. It was more than I could handle, but the cheer on Jack's face gave me the patience to withstand the aural assault.

The shower stopped with what sounded like an operatic climax. While not an enormous fan of the genre, I remember how pleased I was when I discovered Jack's tastes in music. To most people, it would have been a surprise. Jack tends to hide his real self behind a mask of illusion. Depending on the person and the instance, they might see the hard-ass colonel I first met, or the idiot savant that tends to play too often. My Jack is neither of these.

I grinned, staring up at the ceiling. My Jack. I really liked the way that sounded. Sure, it sounded a little territorial, but I remembered how much I liked it when Sha're called me "my Danyel." She had such a sweet way of saying it, and I still miss it. I guess I adopted the habit, but I really liked the way that sounded. In past relationships, I'd never used an endearment like that. I sensed I really wouldn't be making an exception for Jack. He wouldn't be the type who appreciates them - although he liberally gives me a new one at least once a week. "My Jack" would be the best I could get.

My Jack appeared in the doorway, already in his boxers. His hair was still damp, spiked even more than usual. I turned on my side so I could face the door. I watched as he slipped into his t-shirt. I'd seen his bare chest before, but never did I imagine that I'd be viewing it in this kind of a context. I wondered what it would be like to explore it with my fingers. With an almost disappointed sigh, my eyes followed the shirt's descent. He must have heard, because he glanced at me.

"What?" he asked. The smile on his face edged up a notch. I guess he liked what he saw, and what that sigh implied.

"I'm deciding if I like you better with or without the shirt," I told him. I didn't want to hide this type of truth from my soon-to-be lover. Besides, if I said it was nothing, he'd just pry until I told him anyway. I also felt like fading into the mattress from embarrassment. My face felt like it was flaming.

"Oh, yeah? What did you decide?" He sounded amused, and decidedly so. I knew him well enough to hear the tiny tone of shyness, though I also knew he'd deny it to the point of death.

"Shirt off," I mumbled, and there went the blush, deepening in hue and heat. If it wasn't obvious before, he couldn't have missed it then.

"Cool. I'll remember that. You know what I really like?" he asked, casual as though having small talk in the bedroom was a common occurrence in his house. I hoped it wasn't, though. When I shrugged as a response, he grinned. "The whole thing about you in my bed. Oh, and shirtless, but that's a given."

"You're a lecherous old man, Jack O'Neill."

"And you're exactly where I want you, Daniel Jackson."

While the banter was starting to put me at ease, as far as the entire situation went, this last comment brought the discomfort back. I shifted in the bed, then sat up. "Jack, I was serious earlier. I'm not ready for -"

"Relax. I said it wasn't a problem, remember?" He set himself on the edge of the bed and gave me an easy smile, one I remembered from times past. It was a smile especially common in the early days of SG-1 when things strange and uncomfortable to me would be carefully introduced by Jack. "I just want you to get comfortable. I'm not ready for any action just yet, either. Lecherous old man be damned, I'm tired! We lecherous old men have no stamina after a mission like ours today."

"Then come to bed," I invited, patting the empty space. The only thing worse than lecherous Jack is bitchy Jack, and I didn't want to inflict that on anyone, least of all myself.

He lay down. I stayed where I was. We regarded each other awkwardly for a few moments before he let out a great breath of air.

"Sleep?"

I nodded. "Good idea."

The bed moved as Jack reached for the lamp. I slid back under the covers. I snuggled against the pillow, thinking about how unlikely this was when I first met Jack. That Jack O'Neill seemed happier to watch me dragged off into the sunset by a mastadge than to pay any attention to me as a person. At least that much had changed in the intervening years. Now, he'd be playing hero and lunging for the reins. A definite romantic in the making, my Jack.

Arms snaked around me once the lights were out. They startled me, but I settled down quickly. I started to pull Jack toward me, but his voice whispered in my ear.

"Easy. Let me hold you." His voice made me shiver, and this time for an entirely new reason. He was the man I could trust with my life off-world. My friend and sometimes confidante. This tone was different, and new. This tone belonged to the man I could trust with my heart, and who seemed to be offering me his own in return.

I stopped moving. His arms tightened slightly, and he snuggled close. The position felt awkward, so I rolled within the embrace to my side. Jack sighed as he came closer. He spooned himself behind me, one hand resting on my waist.

"Comfortable?" he murmured against my shoulder. I could feel the warmth of his breath against my shoulder. I pressed back, the curves of my body fitting into corresponding ones in his.

"Yeah." How could I not be? Safe and warm were other adjectives coming to mind. I reached for his hand, bringing it from my waist to tuck it against my chest. "Jack? This is a good start."

A puff of air tickled my ear as Jack laughed. "Don't tempt me, Daniel. Go to sleep."

I relaxed, but I let sleep wait. I could feel the heat of his body against my back, and the soft presence of his hand on my chest. I listened to his breathing, what I used to do at night on Abydos with Sha're. I heard the rhythm of his breaths slow, and his body growing lax. He felt like a blanket, and I felt secure in his grip.

I smiled in the darkness. I was in Jack O'Neill's bed. The reality of it was finally hitting home. The novelty of our first night would never wear off, and the comfort of this bed promised many more nights to come. I loved him, and as slow as the progress might be, I already couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

*fin*