"Hey, Danny." Sliding his arms around Daniel's tee-shirted chest, Jack rubbed his chin gently on top of the seated man's head. "You haven't clicked anything for at least two minutes. Whazzup?"

Daniel, gaze still fixed on the information on his screen, nudged his skull against Jack's jaw, laughing softly. "I'm putting you on a television diet. I think you're suffering from an excess of popular culture."

"Just doing my duty by our out-of-town teammate, Daniel." Jack infused his voice with every iota of unctuous martyrdom at his command. "Best way there is for Teal'c to familiarize himself with what life is like here on our lovely planet."

Daniel tilted his head back, favoring Jack with an indulgent grimace. "He's had, what, four years now? I really think he's grown beyond the need to learn from bad television commercials."

"Never get too much of that. Or certain other television learning experiences I could mention—and none of them are on the Discovery Channel. But you're dodging the question." Tightening his hold, Jack perused the image on the screen. "People search?"

"Mmmm." Daniel's attention was refocused on the results of his search.

"Someone you know?"

"Someone I used to know."

"Ah… so… whazzup?"

Daniel's head shifted again to butt against Jack's chin. Jack could see the smiling curve of the mouth he loved, despite the bizarre angle.

"I… well…" Long fingers pried Jack's hands away from their possessive hold, and Daniel swiveled his chair, capturing Jack's lips with a soft kiss.

"Someone I think I want to get to know again. C'mon…" He stood, tugging Jack to his feet, and navigated them both to the couch.

Jack obligingly allowed himself to be tucked into the corner of the sofa, a couple of pillows softening the hard edge behind his back. Then he happily opened his arms, accepting the burden of Daniel's curled body nestled against him. His hand slid gently down, stroking the denim stretched smoothly over Daniel's hip. Soft, old jeans; they molded perfectly to Daniel's long legs.

"Ah, nice. I'm guessing we're setting up for 'true confessions,' here?"

"Mmmhmmm…" Daniel's lips were temporarily occupied with activity which precluded coherent speech. "Sort of."

"Okay, so let's have it. What terrible guilty secrets have you been hiding from me?"

Daniel thumped Jack's chest sharply. "Nothing terrible! I'm not the one with the 'I'd tell but I'd have to shoot you' past!"

Jack grinned and pulled Daniel's body close, urging his head down onto his own chest. He snuffled happily in the long, tousled hair, enjoying the feel of a hand stroking his belly. "So, 'fess up, Doctor Jackson."

For a moment, Daniel lay quietly, his breath warm against Jack's neck.

"I've been… umm… Damn, this shouldn't be so difficult! You know something about the state my life had gotten itself into by the time Katherine recruited me, right?"

"Oh, yeah. Life in two suitcases sort of thing. Abandoned in the rain."

He felt Daniel's mouth twist in wry amusement. "That's just about it. Things had been on a pretty steep slide for a year or so before. My… unusual… theories, and my stubborn insistence that I was right and everyone else was wrong shot my credibility to hell." His petting hand slid around Jack's waist, tightening the press of their bodies. "And in the academic world, reputation is everything. I lost my fellowship, my job, all of my grants, any chance of a permanent position, let alone tenure, at any respectable university."

Jack could feel the tension coiling in the other man's body. Gently, he rubbed the thigh under his hand.

"Well, we know who was right, don't we."

A rueful chuckle vibrated against his clavicle. "Oh, yes. Right, but still disgraced. But that… I've really come to terms with that. But…"

He hesitated. Jack made an encouraging sound, nudging with his jaw. "But?"

"I don't quite know how to explain this. They expected so much from me. I'd been the one everybody predicted would shine. Then when everything went so wrong, I… I just couldn't…"

"Couldn't what? Just who is the 'they' we're talking about, Danny?"

Daniel sat up, fixing his solemn, uncertain gaze on Jack's face.

"Jack, I've been alone pretty much since my folks died. Too many different homes, too many school bullies and hecklers. I… um… I had a pretty miserable teen experience." The glitter of self-deprecating amusement in his eyes dared Jack to go mushy and sympathetic. No commiseration invited, thank you very much.

Jack quirked a grin at him. "Little lost wallflower, huh?"

Daniel's lips pursed, and Jack collected another thump. "Something like that. Uncounted Jack O'Neills working hard to make my life a misery. Anyway, I was pretty lonely."

He turned to gaze out at the evening-shadowed lawn, mouth softening to a reminiscent smile.

"Except for two years. Terrific years."

"Yeah?"

He turned back to smile into Jack's face. "Yeah." A quick kiss graced Jack's lips. "Terrific. It was while I was getting my first doctorate. I lived in a house with a couple of other students. The house was owned by Jason's mother. She was… she was wonderful." The brilliance of his smile attested his sincerity. "They were all wonderful. I loved living there; I loved all three of them. After we separated, we kept in pretty close touch; tried to get together every so often. But when… ummm…"

"When things went down the tubes?"

"Ah, yeah. When things went down the tubes… This is hard to explain. I was sure I was right! But I was taking a hell of a lot of abuse. I was being harangued from all sides. As sure as I was, I was also pretty… pretty humiliated. Ashamed of being such a pariah."

Jack remained silent, but kept up his gentle stroking.

Daniel's blue eyes dropped to contemplate a small hole in the chest of Jack's tee shirt. One long finger teased at the unraveling knit of the shirt, then slithered through to tickle the hairy skin underneath.

"Hey, I like this shirt. No damage, you!"

With a mutinous pout, Daniel pulled his finger out, then bent his head to lick, then kiss the small bit of exposed skin.

"Anyway, I just… just stopped contacting them. Stopped answering letters or phone calls. While I still had a functioning telephone, that is." His mouth twisted in disgust. "I know it doesn't make sense, but I just… I just couldn't expose my downfall to those people who thought such wonderful things about me. I kind of did the same to Sarah and Dr. Jordan, but I never cared as much about any of them as I did Jason, Ian and Beth."

He shook his head slowly. "So stupid. They would have supported me; would have made it all so much less agonizing. But I just crawled into my trusty old shell and cut them off. Eventually, they stopped calling."

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Finally, Jack cleared his throat.

"Sooo, you've just gone looking for them, right?"

"Yep. I think that's Jason's current email address sitting on that screen. Just have to get the guts to reconnect."

He cuddled more securely against Jack, smiling as arms tightened around him.

"'s funny… As awful as my… experience… on 423 was, it was a pretty effective catharsis. It's actually made me face up to and straighten out a lot of neglected aspects of my life." A kiss against Jack's throat. "Like you…" whispered against his skin.

"Oh, yeah. You better go write that email while I'm still marginally willing to let you get up. A few more minutes of this and old Jason is going to have to wait another twenty-four hours!"

Daniel laughed and sat up, then stood and stretched. Jack's eyes were inexorably drawn to the two inches of smooth tummy exposed by this activity.

"Ah, yes. Hurry, Daniel. Your window of opportunity is shrinking by the second."

This earned him another kiss. Then Daniel stood, firmed his chin, threw his shoulders back and marched back to the computer.

<<<<<>>>>>

To: BowNStringsToGo@Hess.Irish.uk

From: DaBoss@chipster.com

Subject: You'll never guess!

You're still coming for the holidays, right? Don't poop out on me, Ian, because I've got the Holiday Surprise of the New Millenium for you. Guess who crept out of the electronic woodwork? Would the addy ArchaeoBoy@Colo.Earth.com tweak any brain cells for you? It's alive! And I'm working hard to get it here for a week or so. So add your strangely accented voice to mine and get the boy on a plane, OK?

Oh, BTW, keep your British yap shut re. Ma, willya? She's getting way too mellow--surprises are good for the nerves LOL! He's gonna be my Xmas present.

Rubbing hands in plot-heaven frenzy—Jas.

----

Jason N. Enright

64K should be enough for anybody. –Bill the idiot Gates

<<<<<>>>>>

To: DaBoss@chipster.com

From: BowNStringsToGo@Hess.Irish.uk

Subject: Re: You'll never guess!

Holy crap! You never?!

Thank gawd the lad's apparently in one piece.

Wouldn't miss the event for anything. I've convinced *my* lads that they need a holiday—don't need to play any of those lucrative Xmas and (especially) NY gigs everybody and his bloody brother has been dangling in front of our greedy beaks. Why do folks automatically think of Irish bands for NY, anyway? Should we be insulted?

Any rate, I'd drop the lot of them for the chance to see Daniel again. Damn, I've missed him.

What's in it for me if I keep my gob shut re. MaBeth, anyway? Got her addy right here in front of me. Gonna spill the beans any second now unless I'm offered adequate incentive to keep it shut ;^)

*Really* looking forward to the trip. Great news—Ian

Ian Conrad, Master Fiddler

http://www.Hess.Irish.uk/

To book Hess, Engagements@Hess.Irish.uk

<<<<<>>>>>

To: DaBoss@chipster.com, BowNStringsToGo@Hess.Irish.uk

From: ArchaeoBoy@Colo.Earth.com

Subject: Re. Get Your Butt Over Here

I don't know a way to say this that conveys how powerfully sincere I am, but I'm so glad you're willing to forgive me dropping out of sight. We can talk about all of this stuff when I see you—and yes, I'll come. How could I not, after the email-bombing you two have been committing? You're lucky I don't contact your ISPs. And Beth will be there, too, won't she?

Just one thing… Do you mind if I bring a friend along? He's kind of part of the stuff I want to talk to you about. Also my security blanket LOL! (can you hear the nervous shake in that laugh?)

Missed you all more than I can say—Daniel.

*Daniel Jackson

*If knowledge can create problems, it is not through ignorance that we can solve them. [Isaac Asimov]

<<<<<>>>>>

To: ArchaeoBoy@Colo.Earth.com

From: DaBoss@chipster.com

Subject: Re. Get Your Butt Over Here

Yeah! Gotcha! Can't wait to see you, Daniel.

And sure, bring your friend. Am I sensing something behind that word, here? Has the citadel at last fallen ;^) ?

Looking forward to seeing whether the hair has reached your waist yet—Jas

----

Jason N. Enright

64K should be enough for anybody. –Bill the idiot Gates

<<<<<>>>>>

He could feel the fine tremors running through Daniel's body—equal parts anticipation and trepidation. The small beachfront house looked harmless, though it screamed 'money.'

"Looks like your Jason has done pretty well for himself."

Daniel nodded tightly. "Nice place."

Jack waited another patient minute, then nudged his shoulder against the stiff body next to him. "C'mon, Danny. Thirty seconds and it's all over. You'll survive."

Daniel flashed a little smile his way, then turned his gaze back to the polished door. He drew a deep breath, then strode determinedly down the path, up the four steps and across the wide porch. As he lifted his hand to the knocker, the door was flung open.

Jack, tight on his heels, recoiled as a storm of noise and humanity flowed out of the house and engulfed his archaeologist.

"He's back from the bloody dead! About damn time…"

"What the hell are you doing lurking out on the street, MummyBrain…"

"C'mon, c'mon, get your arse inside…"

"Wasting time having a panic attack when we could be bludgeoning the truth out of you…"

Only two voices—one rich and strongly accented, the other light, tenor and very Californian—but they produced enough racket for a mob.

"Hey!" Jack's shout hung in the sudden silence. He continued more moderately. "I take it we're at the right place?"

Two delighted grins and a pair of happily stunned blue eyes answered him.

"You bet," California replied. "Come on in. You must be Daniel's… friend."

Not for a moment releasing their hold on Daniel's arms, the two men managed to grab on to Jack and navigate all four of them into the warm light of the house's front hallway.

Released, Jack arched an eyebrow at California. "Jason, I presume?"

The man turned his attention away from Daniel, grinning happily. "Guilty." He thrust his free hand toward Jack. The other was still firmly wrapped around Daniel's right bicep.

"Jack O'Neill. I'm with him." Gripping the other man's hand, Jack tilted his head toward his currently speechless partner. "He'll find his tongue any minute now."

"Oh, God, Jack. I'm sorry." Daniel's voice was tight with emotion. "This is Jason Enright. And this…" He tugged the other man forward. "…This is Ian Conrad. Guys, this… well, this is Jack."

Conrad quirked a teasing grin at Jack. "Jaaack, is it?"

"Ian!" Daniel shook his arm free of Jason's grip and lightly slapped Ian's cheek twice. "Behave. I'll explain, but you have to be good."

Green eyes glinted with pure mischief. "I dunno, Daniel. He's available, I'm on the lookout."

Jack backed up against the now closed door. "Danny, should I have brought a gun?"

"No! Uh… not available." Red swept over Daniel's cheeks. He ducked his gaze toward the floor, mouth twitching with a tiny, complacent smile. "Not available." The repetition was soft and firm. Looking up through his lashes, he exchanged an apologetic glance with Jack. He mouthed, 'Sorry.'

Jack replied with a rueful smile. They'd deal. Daniel's brilliant responding grin sent a wave of warmth right through him. Oh, yeah. They'd deal. Daniel loved these people, obviously trusted them.

Daniel tilted his head up and drank in the sight of his two old friends. His happy expression shifted to wicked mischief as he reached up to rub the bare skin on top of Jason's head.

"Oh, dear. What happened here?"

The Californian grimaced. "Ah, the tyranny of genetics! I see you're not having that problem. Though it hasn't made much progress toward your butt!"

Jack let his gaze flick fondly over the soft hair that drifted just past the top of Daniel's collar. He was glad Daniel's return to the fold hadn't included the complete sacrifice of the long, silky locks.

Daniel reached toward Ian, fingers tugging at a copper-red coil. "Looks like Ian's taken over that ambition. Wow. Pretty overwhelming."

Ian chuckled and shook his long mane of vivid curls. "Hey, part of the image, Daniel, part of the image. It's me trade-mark."

Jason laughed. "No lie. You seen the cover of his latest CD? All over red curls. I think he's been dying it, myself, but he won't admit it."

Ian recoiled in horror. "Not a chance, Mate! Pure blasphemy! That'd be a scandal I'd never recover from!"

Laughing, Jason ushered them out of the foyer. "Ah, the public life. All vanity and sham."

Daniel and Jack paused and gaped as they stepped into a large, dimly lit area. The entire ocean-facing wall of the room was glass—floor to very high ceiling window panels that showed the marine panorama, vivid with the color, light and shadow of twilight.

"Wow." Jack shook his head in wonder. "I could stand to live with this view."

Jason smiled. "I really love it. One of the best parts of making enough money to afford the extortionate cost of this place." He moved into the room and turned up the lights. "Sit, guys. Someone has a hell of a lot of talking to do…"

<<<<<>>>>>

And talk they had. Not just Daniel, but the other two men as well. They'd kicked off their shoes, settled themselves in chairs and on the floor, and let loose. For well over an hour, they'd sat and shared years of experience. Jack just lounged back in a sinfully comfortable chair, watched the other three as they talked themselves hoarse, and soaked in the happiness of his lover. He was alert for any slips regarding security issues, but Daniel had managed to flirt around the edges of sensitive subjects, telling enough to satisfy his friends without ever going over the line. Jack had also learned a lot about said lover and his less-than-usual journey through the hallowed halls of academia.

Finally, with a sigh, Jason turned an apologetic face toward the stranger in their midst. "Sorry, Jack. Just… making up for a lot of lost time. Sorry we've been ignoring you."

Jack grinned at him. "No problem, Jason. I'm getting enough on Daniel to keep him under control for the rest of his natural life."

"Jaa…ack!"

"Daaaa… niel!" He laughed at the rolled eyes. "What, you don't really expect me to keep all this stuff to myself, do you? I doubt any of the rest of the cultural staff managed quite that unique an approach to a panty raid! Heidepriem will love it."

Daniel's face flamed red as his two friends collapsed in laughter. "It wasn't… I didn't… It was a total accident!"

"Yeah? Well, what say we look up some of those ladies and ask their opinion?"

"The horrible truth is, it was an accident!" Laughing helplessly, Ian had flopped flat on his back on the floor. "I guarantee Daniel was a hell of a lot more mortified than any of those snooty sorority bitches!"

"Ian!"

"Truth! Swear it!"

Daniel's mutinous pout softened to exasperated acceptance. "Well… maybe. But I never thought it would do that !"

Jason stood and stretched. "Does anyone wonder why the only department on campus that wasn't eager to recruit you was Chem?" Shaking his head, he moved toward the kitchen. "Anyone want anything from the fridge?"

Daniel lifted his bottle. "More water?"

"Gotcha. Another beer, Jack?"

Jack nodded, then leaned over to poke Daniel in the shoulder.

"So, Danny… you were how old?"

Daniel's cheeks reddened again. "Eighteen."

Ian hooted from the floor. "Twelve going on forty, more like!

Daniel deliberately upended his nearly empty water bottle over the prone man's stomach, provoking a laughing wrestling match which ended, much to Ian's surprise, with Daniel pinning his British friend face down on the carpet.

"Bloody hell, Daniel! You must have been tossing about some pretty mean bits of rubble! Get off me, Neandertal!"

Laughing, Daniel sat back, allowing the other man to sit up.

Ian eyed Jack speculatively. "Sooo, Daniel, you been having to fight off the bullies again?"

Daniel bopped him with the plastic bottle. "Jack does not bully me. I just have a bit more… active life than I did before I met him."

"And we're still waiting to hear about that little event," Jason said, handing Jack his beer and sinking into the partner to Jack's chair. "Give, Daniel. Or do we have to wait until Ma gets here? You could never keep anything from her, if you recall."

Jack caught Daniel's eyes, arching his brows. Daniel tilted his head, thinking.

"Well…"

Jason interrupted him gently. "Maybe first…" He met Jack's eyes somberly. "Which service?"

Jack smiled at the Californian. "Air Force."

"Colonel," Daniel added, a trace of pride coloring the soft word.

"Okay, so that means… no asking, no telling. And pretty high stakes."

"That's not totally an issue here, as I doubt either of you has ties to the Air Force. But…"

"Discretion, as they say." Ian's apparently perpetual grin flickered Jack's way. "Just a bit of interrogation…"

Jack smirked. "You can try. The best have tried ."

"Jaa…aack!"

Jack stretched his leg out and hooked his stocking-covered foot under Daniel's armpit, tugging the younger man toward his chair. Obligingly, Daniel scooted over and settled between Jack's knees, back braced against the chair.

Running his fingers rhythmically through soft hair, Jack favored the other two men with a challenging glare.

"Mine," he said firmly. "Permanently."

"No bullying." The light voice was stern.

"Never. Unless he needs it."

"Jack!"

"Well, you have to admit that sometimes you need it, Danny."

"No I don't!"

"Yes, you do."

"Don't."

"Do."

"Don't!"

"Ah ah ah ah! Ernest's Pl… Place? Hadante? Aris Boch? Appendix?"

"Jack! I didn't…"

Noticing two face-splitting grins, the partners trailed off into silence.

"Uh… no bullying." Jack ignored the sulky rumble from between his knees.

"You'll take care of him." It wasn't a question. Ian's expression had sobered. Jack met his eyes, equally serious.

"Nothing in the universe is more important to me."

"Jack." Daniel leaned his head against Jack's thigh, voice quiet and content.

"Nothing, Daniel."

Three grins warmed him, one twisted up from under his caressing hand.

"So, I'd say that was definitely enough asked and told!" Jason leaned forward to tug a strand of Daniel's hair.

"Uh, Daniel? Air Force?"

Daniel arched an eyebrow at him. "Um, Jason… C.E.O.?"

Jason laughed. "Touché. I'm guessing that we've both taken a few unexpected turns."

"Not I! Still drawin' and fiddlin'. And I'm guessing that…" Ian lifted a finger to draw attention to the sounds from outside the house. "… is MaBeth."

Jason lifted his head to listen for a moment, then grinned maniacally and grabbed Daniel's hand.

"C'mon, ArchaeoBoy. Christmas present time…" He jumped to his feet and headed for the door, dragging a stumbling Daniel behind him.

Jack and Ian exchanged bemused glances, then stood to follow.

Jason was leaning against the door, peeking out through the peephole. He turned and grabbed Daniel by the shoulders, manhandling him up against the wall beside the door, then clapping his left hand tightly over the archaeologist's mouth. A stern glare stilled Daniel's wriggles.

Having quelled the incipient rebellion in his captive, he used his free hand to fling the door open, revealing a tiny, rather plump woman burdened with what appeared to be several dozen parcels and string handled bags.

"Jason, Sweetie! And Ian! Happy hol…" The small woman's exuberant greeting was stilled by Jason's raised, restraining hand.

"Hold on, Ma!"

"Jason? Are you all right?" Concern drained some of the joy out of her face. "What's…?"

"Tell me, Ma. You seen your doctor lately? Up to date on all those tests?"

"Of course, Sweetie. You know I…"

"'Cause I'd hate to bring on a heart attack or something."

Her bright eyes narrowed. "Jason Nathaniel Enright, just what are you up to?"

His mock-stern face relaxed into a gentle smile. "'Cause I've got one hell of a Christmas present for you, Ma."

The hand muzzling Daniel slipped down to tug his shoulder, pulling the captive around to face the door.

The woman on the porch dropped her burdens, screaming, "Angel!" Then she and Daniel were wrapped around each other, babbling and frankly tearful. Jason and Ian slapped hands and watched indulgently, then dragged Jack out to retrieve the scattered parcels.

<<<<<>>>>>

"So, Ian…" Jack took a sip from his beer. They could hear the exuberant laughter and conversation from the kitchen as the other three organized food. "Jason's 'Sweetie,' Daniel's 'Angel.' Just what does she call you?"

For a moment, Ian's ruddy cheeks nearly matched his hair. "Nothing, Mate. Just…"

"Baby?" Beth's voice rang from the kitchen. "Want to sweep for empties?"

Jack couldn't stop the grin. "Baby?"

"Oh, lord. One could hope, you know. They say memory fades as the years pass."

"Better gather those empties, Baby, or she'll be in here to paddle your britches."

Ian shot him a mock-venomous glare, then started gathering up various empty bottles.

Relenting, Jack wrapped his fingers around a half dozen bottlenecks and followed the other man into the kitchen. They found Daniel and Jason hopping to Beth's orders, assembling a variety of trays of munchies and finger foods. Jack found himself swept into the activity, slicing, arranging, and nibbling. When Beth's sharp eyes were looking the other way.

"Well, this lot should be enough to feed us until next week." Beth gathered up two laden trays and headed for the big room. "Jack, Darling, grab that tray of cheese, would you?"

Jack froze, feeling all six eyes—two hazel, two green, two brilliant blue—spearing his back. He turned slowly to face the other three men. They were fighting laughter, teeth clamped on various parts of their respective mouths. Daniel released his lower lip long enough to mouth, "Darling?" in Jack's direction, then collapsed against the counter, overcome by explosive chuckles. Faced with his surrender, the other two capitulated, and Jack was treated to the sight of three grown men leaning on each other, helpless with mirth.

"W…Welcome to the f…family, Darling," Jason gasped between howls.

"That's Colonel Darling, Sweetie," Jack snarled. "And you'll get yours. Better watch your back, Beach Boy."

Daniel erupted into fresh giggles, leaning his forehead against Jason's heaving back. "Darling. God, Jack. When's our next b…briefing?"

"Not a chance, Angel . The General ever hears about this and you're toast. You and your little artifacts, too."

"Boys?" Beth had already ferried a mountain of food into the living room. "What's keeping you?"

Daniel staggered to his feet, elbowing Jack in the ribs. "C'mon," he urged, still stifling giggles. "She's inexorable."

Grabbing his assigned platter, Jack followed. "So, Danny… You always do what she tells you?"

"Oh, yeah!" Ian's mirth-colored voice preempted Daniel's reply. " Everybody does what MaBeth tells 'em to. Not that she's a tyrant, you understand…"

"… she just looks at you with that face , and you suddenly find yourself doing things you swore you'd never try," Daniel finished.

"Maybe I should get some pointers."

"Jack! I do what you tell me to!"

"Right."

"I do! Well, most of the time. At least… unless you're being an idiot."

"Or unless you don't want to."

"Which comes to pretty much the same thing."

"Daniel!"

Jason and Ian were laughing again.

"Same old Daniel!" Jason said. "Looks like a timid little kitten, then digs his teensy claws in and won't budge."

"Classic immovable object," Ian added.

<<<<<>>>>>>

"So, Daniel…" Leaning across from his nest back in that wonderful chair, Jack snagged another dill spear, tapping the top of Daniel's head as he passed. "Just how did you end up part of this merry commune?"

Daniel smiled up at Beth, sitting beside Jason on the sofa. "I got shanghaied."

"Hey! I resent that!" Jason threw a cracker at Daniel's head.

Beth reached down and stroked Daniel's cheek. "Oh, we just took him in off the street."

"Hey, so did we!" Jack tousled Daniel's hair as they all laughed. Beth sat back and snaked her arm around Jason's waist He shifted closer, obviously enjoying his mother's affectionate embrace.

"Ma sent me out to collect strays," he said, winking at Daniel and Ian, sitting Indian-style by Daniel's feet..

Beth laughed and used her conveniently placed palm to swat his rump. "Behave, child! You may be twice my size, but I can still wallop your behind!" She settled more comfortably into the soft cushions. "When Jason started graduate school at UCLA, I was living in this big, old house—tons of room, and just the two of us. So I told him to pick out a couple of other students he thought we'd enjoy having live with us. First he dragged Ian in, then a couple of days later, Daniel. I've never asked him how he chose, but we had two great years. Never regretted it for a second." She smiled at her three boys. "Couldn't love them more if I'd gone through the nine months of misery for each of them."

Jack laughed. "I thought pregnancy was supposed to be wonderful! My wife certainly claimed to love it."

"Don't you believe a word of it. I swear I was showing the second that little wriggler assaulted that egg. Lost track of my feet for months ! All hype and propaganda, I tell you. Now motherhood —that's completely different." Her indulgent smile brought a sweep of color to Jason's cheeks. "I love motherhood. Which makes these two…" she patted the heads of the two men on the floor, "… an absolutely perfect acquisition. All the good stuff without the APB on the toes."

Jack smiled warmly at her as the other three men hooted with laughter. He had a feeling that Daniel had needed her kind of love.

"We were a motley, but highly motivated group, I can tell you." Jason was shaking his head. "I was set to revolutionize the political system of the entire country, if not the world as a whole; Daniel was the brilliant star of the Egyptology department, and Ian… well, Ian was just doing Ian's thing."

"Drawin' and fiddlin'," Ian explained smugly. "Just drawin' and fiddlin'."

"Somehow, my revolutionary path got diverted. I've become the enemy!" Jason's self-directed horror elicited renewed laughter. "Who would have thought it would be Daniel who ended up trying to overcome the inertia of the Evil Establishment?"

"Hey!"

"Now Daniel… You have to admit that you'd have been a real long shot. Back in those days, you could hardly look anyone in the eye, let alone tilt your lance at giant windmills."

"Ah… except in things archaeological, Jas." Ian quirked an amused eyebrow at Daniel. "Shy as a bird—except when it came to that stuff. Then he was fearless."

"Excuse me… I'm in the room, here!" Daniel booted Ian with bare toes. "I was not shy as a bird!"

"Oh, Angel. You were." Beth's smile was infinitely affectionate. "Bashful as a kitten, hiding behind all that hair. I think you were here for two days before I actually heard your voice."

"Unlike a certain Brit I could mention," Jason added. "Mouthy sonofabitch, he was! Full of himself."

Ian grinned toothily, bobbing his brows up and down a couple of times. Jack quirked a questioning eyebrow, and Jason reached out a stocking-clad foot to toe Ian in the chest.

"Oh, he was already famous. Came over here with his British snoot in the air to study at the Art Institute, but he was already traveling all over the British Isles, playing the fiddle with his 'lads.'"

"Professional?"

"Since I was twelve, actually. The fiddle is kind of a family vocation. Between the fiddlin' and the art, I manage to get by just fine."

Jason hooted. "Oh, yeah! He could probably buy this state!"

Sniffing, Ian tossed his head. "Who'd want it?"

Amid the laughter, Jack took his turn nudging Ian with his own foot. "So, you're an Irish fiddler, right? Don't sound very Irish to me."

Pure mischief sparked in green eyes. "Sure, and I can do the patter with the best of 'em." The brogue dripped from the words. "But actually, I'm a London lad. Me da was born in Dublin, but Mum is pure London. Just because I fiddle doesn't mean I have to actually be Irish."

Jason snickered. "And there's the name…"

"Button it, boyo! I did it all legal, you know!"

Daniel's sly little voice slithered through the noise. "John. He was born John."

Ian launched himself at Daniel, fingers diving for ticklish ribs. "Bloody hell! That information's covered by the Official Secrets Act! They actually let you play with military stuff, loose mouth?"

Trapped between Jack's legs, Daniel made an easy target. He batted at Ian's tormenting hands, wriggling and laughing helplessly. "Nononono! Quit, bastard!"

"Oh, not just loose, filthy as well." Panting, Ian flopped over onto his back. "MaBeth'll wash that mouth out, you watch."

Shaking his head in mock disgust, Jason leaned over to grab Ian's belt, heaving him back into a sitting position. "MaBeth in a mood could give any of us a run for the potty-mouth title, Limey. And you give Daniel too much shit, and Jack here's liable to seriously inhibit your fiddling prospects for the immediate future."

Jack growled obligingly, baring his teeth at Ian's flushed face. "Hands off, Red. I know at least seven hundred ways to break fingers."

Face twisting in apparent horror, Ian tucked his hands firmly under his armpits. "What a thug! Daniel, you don't want him. You'd better come back to London with me. I can find you work in a second."

"And that reminds me…" Beth sat up, eagerness brightening her dark eyes. "Where's my music?"

Jack was instantly aware of the tension in the body between his knees.

"Yeah, Daniel." Ian grabbed Daniel's right foot and shook it. "Where's your guitar?"

"Uh…"

Daniel's head ducked; his arms crept up to wrap tightly around his chest.

"Daniel?" Ian crouched up beside him, hand gripping a tense shoulder as he attempted to meet evasive blue eyes.

"I… I don't play any more."

Stunned silence gripped the others for a long moment.

"Not play?" Beth sounded horrified. "But Angel…"

Jason slid down to join Daniel and Ian on the floor. "Tell, Daniel."

Daniel drew in a deep breath, then tilted his head back in Jack's lap, gaze firmly fixed on the high ceiling.

"I haven't played for… about five years now."

He winced at Beth's small pained exclamation.

"You know how things were going. I ex… explained about not keeping in touch. But I… There wasn't… Damn!" He squeezed his eyes shut. When he continued, his voice was a whisper. "I just couldn't play any more."

Jason rubbed his shoulder gently. "I know what this is." Incongruously, a grin was fighting to spread across his face. "Hang on…"

He heaved himself to his feet and ran up the stairs in the darkened corner of the room. Jack leaned forward to gently rub Daniel's shoulders, listening to the bumping and banging from the loft bedroom. Finally, Jason reappeared at the top of the stairs, a large, dark, distinctively shaped object in his hands.

Jack tightened his fingers on Daniel's shoulders, caressing the side of his neck with his thumb. He felt Daniel's already tense body start to quiver.

"Jason…" Daniel whispered, eyes glued to the guitar case. Abruptly, he jerked free of Jack's hold and shot to his feet. "Oh, God. I don't…"

"Of course you couldn't play, Daniel. You needed this."

Jason shoved the ravaged snack plates and bowls aside to clear a space on the top of the big sideboard, then set the case down and fiddled with the combination lock.

Lifting the lid, he turned and beckoned to Daniel. "C'mon, buddy. She's waiting."

He stepped back and waited. For a moment, Daniel stood frozen. Then he stepped up to the case, reached in and tenderly lifted the guitar from its protective nest. Gently, slowly, he caressed the polished wood, ran his finger over the delicate mother of pearl inlay, touched the strings.

"I… I thought I'd never see it again," he whispered.

"You sold it. Couldn't believe it when I spotted it in Terrill's."

Daniel nodded. "I… God, it broke my heart. But it finally got down to keeping it, or actually eating and paying another month's rent."

Jack watched his partner, mesmerized. As Daniel turned the instrument to inspect the back, Jack caught the glint of light on the inlay. The head was decorated with the letters "D J." Daniel's guitar. Customized.

So how come he'd never suspected this aspect of his archaeologist's life? Actually, he did recall a battered guitar case among the few belongings he'd taken into custody during those months Daniel had lived off-world. But he'd never even seen whatever was inside the case. Had never thought about it; it had seemed such a normal sort of thing for a man Daniel's age to have.

Daniel's eyes were glistening with unshed tears, his fingers still sliding over the lovely instrument. Ian abruptly shook himself and jumped to his feet.

"So, then, Jas. Leave Daniel to rebond with the Magic Guitar." He gestured grandly toward the back of the house. "Let us tune !"

They disappeared into a back room, emerging almost immediately with full hands.

Ian grabbed a tall stool from the bar counter, plopping it down in the middle of the lounge. Jason looped the strap of a dreadnaught-sized six-string folk guitar around his neck; Ian tucked a well-used fiddle under his chin, and for a few moments, the room resounded with the discordant racket of string instruments being tortured into tune. Belatedly, Daniel sat himself on the stool and began flicking his long fingers over the strings of his guitar, sounding harmonics, carefully adjusting the pegs.

"It's pretty well tuned."

"I've been working on tightening it up ever since you got in touch. Been pretty excited about springing it on you."

Daniel graced him with a radiant smile, then turned his attention back to the guitar.

Jack leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The guitar had a wonderful sound… clear, light, brilliant. And oddly treble.

"Hey, Danny…" Daniel's gaze lifted to meet his. Jack's throat tightened at the vivid happiness in those blue eyes. "The tuning on that…"

"It's high-strung. Tuned a fourth higher than normal."

"Yeah," Ian interjected. "So watch yourself when he's tuning that baby. Those strings go, and it's 'kapow!' High velocity projectile!"

Daniel grinned at the irrepressible fiddler. "I'll make sure I aim somewhere productive."

"Oh, right. So… we ready."

Daniel drew a long, shaky breath. "Ready. Be kind. Remember… it's been a while."

"So I might finally get the upper hand. Right, then!"

Ian was a brilliant fiddler. The vivid, energetic strains vibrated through the spacious room, shivering and leaping, sending slithers of exhilaration down Jack's spine. He played with his entire body, knees flexing, narrow hips twisting, head tossing with the action of the driving melody. The soft lights of the room glinted off his bright, bouncing curls and flying bow. Jason was far less flamboyant, but his sturdy rhythm guitar provided strong, unobtrusive support and a subtle base line.

But Daniel… Jack was mesmerized by the flickering of those elegant, beautiful fingers, crawling and leaping up and down the guitar's delicate neck, plucking and caressing the taut strings. He realized quickly that he was listening to a duet… a conjunction of two superb musicians. The fiddle and the guitar alternately dueled and intertwined, teased and taunted. He could tell that Daniel was a bit rusty. Initially, he concentrated fiercely, fingers occasionally stalling or stumbling. But as they played, he gradually relaxed, and the hesitations vanished. Finally, he closed his eyes, tilted his head back and just lost himself in the music. Jack was enchanted all over again. He was obviously never going to plumb the full depths of the man who shared his life.

Finally, achingly, the fiddle delivered a triumphant flourish, and they were finished. Vestiges of the wondrous music seemed to ghost in the high corners of the room as they took several seconds to relish the echoes of the experience. Then Daniel's head dropped forward onto his chest, his shoulders heaving with emotion.

Jack glanced to the side, smiling at the joyful tears running down Beth's round cheeks. He understood. Magic.

Movement from Ian drew his attention back to the three musicians. The fiddler leaned forward and propped his head against the top of Daniel's.

"Daniel, me old mate… You ever, ever pull a runner like that again, and I swear I'll hunt you to the ends of the Earth!"

A watery chuckle emerged from beneath their butted heads. "Strange as it may seem, that might not be far enough. But I promise… promise I'll never do it again." He pulled back and looked up into Ian's green eyes. "I thought I'd walled it all away… that I'd taught myself not to miss it. God, was I wrong."

"Good. So… let's try this one…"

And they played again. And again. In a dozen different styles. All vibrant, all amazing. Jack and Beth sat as silently as they could, leaving the three musicians to play their game.

At one point, Jack leaned over and quietly asked, "How long can they keep this up?"

Beth smiled indulgently "They used to go on for hours. Tonight, however, I imagine they'll play until Daniel realizes what his fingers are going to feel like in the morning."

Jack winced in empathy and turned back to the music.

They played for nearly an hour, moving seemingly with one mind from tune to tune, playing with each other, teasing, challenging. They faced each other as they played, forming a three point circle, sharing, cooperating, reveling in each others' efforts. Jack had never seen music used this way—like a game, a joyous meeting of three personalities. Somehow it seemed the perfect avocation for his serious, highly focused archaeologist. He'd always realized that, whatever Daniel chose to do, he would do with every bit of himself. It felt right that he would have chased this love with as much dedication as he'd lavished on his artifacts and words. And on Jack, when the opportunity offered.

Once again, the fiddle signaled the close of a tune; the two guitars collaborated on a flourishing cadence, and silence rang through the room.

"Uh… I think I'm about finished…" Daniel stared down at his left hand. Each slender fingertip was graced with small streaks of blood

"Bloody hell, Daniel! Why the devil didn't you stop sooner!"

Daniel's happy grin was answer enough.

"All right, trouble. I can take care of that. Sit…"

Ian snatched a small bottle out of his fiddle case.

"You are about to pay the piper, old son. You're definitely gonna regret playing those fingers bloody!"

"Yowch!" Daniel yelped as Ian spread a clear, viscous liquid from the bottle onto the bloody fingertips.

"Other hand," Ian demanded.

Rather reluctantly, Daniel offered his also-bloody picking hand for treatment. He yipped again as the stuff stung his abraded skin.

"Right, then. Blow on 'em for a minute. That'll dry fast—acts like a sort of bandage. It'll keep the nasties out and let you use the fingers. For a bloody genius, you're a moron, Mate. No more of that."

Daniel favored him with a mischievous smile. "Thanks, Nanny." His eyes dropped to the guitar in his lap. Much as he had when Jason had presented it to him, he stroked the lovely instrument. His mouth twisted with regret. With a deep breath, he picked it up and held it out to his friend.

"Thanks so much, Jason."

Jason, who'd just stowed his own guitar back in its case, whipped his hands behind his back. "Not a chance, MummyBrain. Last time I checked, my initials weren't 'DJ,' so I can't keep it. You're going to have to take it back to Colorado with you."

Daniel caught his lower lip between his teeth, still offering the guitar. "But…"

"No 'but' Daniel. When I bought that guitar, I made a call to Katsuo. He made me promise that I'd never let it go until I could put it back in your hands. And who knows what revenge that old Japanese wizard will deliver if I let him down. If you have to, call it a Christmas present. And a gratitude offering—for finally, finally getting back in touch."

Daniel's eyes dropped to the polished wood in his hands. A smile trembled on his lips. "I… Thank you. Thank you."

Ian shook his head, wrapping an arm around Daniel's shoulders. "We're getting really sloppy, here. Put your baby away and grab those meat roll things. Man does not live by music alone, and all that wrigglin' about has used up all that nourishment we consumed; let's eat some more!"

Laughter greeted his salaciously eager tone. Daniel carefully placed his guitar back into its case, and picked up the requisite platter. He slid the contents of two other half-consumed plates onto the available space, then drifted back to his earlier nest between Jack's feet. Ian and Jason had already settled in their places on floor and sofa. Ian had somehow conjured up a large pad of paper and a half dozen pencils.

As Daniel settled against his chair, Jack leaned over to snatch some of the goodies from the tray, taking advantage of the opportunity to rub his cheek against Daniel's hair and whisper softly in his ear, "Wow. Incredible."

Daniel tilted his head into the caress and smiled, cheeks pinking slightly.

Jack straightened and popped a cream-cheese-and-meat roll into his mouth. As he swallowed the delicious morsel, he turned to Beth. "So… how did all this…" he gestured toward the now-empty stool, still sitting in the middle of the room, "… get started."

"Oh, God." Daniel ducked his head between his knees.

Ian and Jason were laughing again. "'Oh, God' is right. She loves to tell this story, Jack, so settle in."

Beth gently slapped her son's arm. "It's a great story. Of course I love to tell it."

She wriggled into the cushions, obviously settling for a stay. "Well, you remember I told you that Jason brought Ian home first. He's a good, conscientious boy…" Ian groaned. His hands were busy with the pencils and pad of paper.

"Quiet, child. You are . A good, conscientious boy who practiced diligently every evening."

"Lord, you should have heard my lads when I told them I was planning those two years in America. Doom and gloom. They were sure I'd come back having forgotten which side of the bow hits the strings. And that they'd be out their nice, cushy income supplements."

"What did they do…" Jack fished for a tactful way to ask the question. "…uh… while you were…"

"'Foolin' around across the pond? Despite their whingin', they're all gainfully employed. I'd never have left them if they'd depended on what we earned making music." His eyes flicked up from the page. "They were fine. It's just a hell of a lot more fun pickin'. fiddlin' and drummin' than drawing house plans, innit?" The irrepressible grin lit his face. "And we'd been together for eight years. They were just afraid I'd discover I wanted the art instead of the music. Silly gits." He shook his head affectionately, then turned his eyes back toward his drawing.

Beth cleared her throat pointedly. "Anyway… Ian practiced for a couple of hours each night. Two days after he came to us, Jason dragged Daniel through the door. Oh, my. Such a little mouse!"

Daniel groaned into his knees.

"You just wouldn't believe, looking at him now. Skinny, long shaggy hair, big heavy-rimmed glasses, and clothes that looked like they'd been worn for years by someone twice his size. And he would hardly look at you."

"Beth!" Daniel's voice was small and pleading.

"True, Daniel. You know it's true. And shy … Bashful as a kitten."

"Here…" Jason stood and moved to snatch a framed photograph from the built-in bookcases that lined one wall of the room. "You don't believe her—check this out."

"Oh, no!" Daniel's head snapped up, and he tried to intercept the picture as Jason handed it to Jack.

Jack laughed and dodged Daniel's groping hand. "Got it. Oh my God…" He stared in utter delight at the image. The three young men pictured were obviously his current companions. The photographer—he assumed Beth—had captured them in a candid moment. They were clustered against a wooden railing, the ocean behind them. Jason's dark hair covered his entire head, and was long enough to tie back in a ponytail. He was wearing cutoffs and a sleeveless shirt, and showing off a nicely muscular body—apparently somewhat sacrificed in the intervening years. Ian's fiery curls were at least ten inches shorter than the current version, clustering and flying around his grinning face as he challenged the camera. His tall, rangy body had since filled out with muscle, but he looked very much the same.

Then there was Daniel. Jack shook his head in wonder. He knew all three of them were about the same height—about six feet tall. But Daniel managed somehow to look smaller. He'd forgotten—he'd seen Daniel do that shrinking trick a lot in their early years of partnership. He didn't do it any more. In the picture, his head was ducked, eyes peeping up at the camera from behind sheltering glasses and a fringe of shaggy fair hair. He'd been blonder then, and his hair looked like it had never seen the attentions of a real barber. Down past his shoulders, uneven and windblown. And the clothing did look like it had come from the Salvation Army. For all Jack knew, it had. He knew, in a vague sort of way, that the younger Daniel had never had much money.

But beyond the shabbiness and the obvious timidity, Jack saw the sweet, hesitant little smile. A smile that told him how much these people had meant to Daniel, how happy he'd been in their company.

Jack stared at the telling image for a long moment, gradually becoming aware of the anxious blue eyes fixed on his face. He dragged his gaze away from the picture to meet those eyes, and felt his grin soften to a gentle smile. His free hand crept of its own accord to stroke silken hair.

"Haven't changed a bit," he teased softly.

"Jack!" The anxiety had faded, replaced by an answering mischief. "At least I cut the hair."

"At least." Jack handed the photograph back to Jason, exchanging a meaningful look. He was sure he'd find a scan of that picture in his In Box when he got home. "Beth, you should have seen the way he had the hair a year or so ago. Whew! I used to give him grief about non-military hair. Definitely a salutary lesson in 'be careful what you ask for.'"

"I got sick of your carping. You can be very annoying, Jack!"

"Hah! Worked, didn't it?" Jack thought for a moment. "'Course, soon as you cut it, I wanted it back."

Amid the general laughter, Jason prodded Jack's shoulder and winked at him. So, there'd be an exchange of scans.

"So…" Beth returned to her story. "Jason dragged Daniel and his belongings into the house. One suitcase, four boxes—all books—and two guitar cases. Never thought twice about the guitars. All college boys, and most of the girls, have them. We installed him in the room across from Ian, and settled in to get acquainted. Not easy, I can tell you. He was like a little ghost around the place. Hardly said a word, ate like a bird, spent most of his time at home up in his room with his books. I thought for a bit that Jason'd made a mistake with him. However…"

She grinned as she stretched the word out. "However, things got interesting on the evening of his second day with us. Jason and I were sitting downstairs, listening to Ian practice up in his room. That was lovely—we hadn't had the face to ask him to do it down where we could watch, but we were working up to it. He was fiddling away at one of those jigs, and we gradually became aware of this lovely, delicate backdrop to the fiddle. Apparently, Ian did as well, because he suddenly stopped playing. And the echo stopped as well. He started up again and after a couple of moments, there it was again. Fairy echoes."

Ian quirked his brows, never looking up from his page. "Damnedest thing. Kind of like seeing shadows out of the corner of your eye, you know? Vanishes as soon as you turn to catch it."

Daniel's head was down on his knees again. Jack could see the flush on his cheeks. He'd obviously had to listen to this story before.

"After two or three rounds of this chase, the fiddle stopped again. We heard a crash as Ian shoved his door open, and another as he dealt with Daniel's. Then Ian came charging down the stairs, dragging poor Daniel behind him." Another groan emerged from between Jack's feet. "Ian had his fiddle and bow in one hand, and Daniel's collar in the other. Daniel was white as a ghost, clutching that lovely guitar in his arms and looking like he was about to face a firing squad, poor baby."

She patted Daniel's bowed head tenderly.

"Now, Angel… you know it's all true."

He lifted his flaming face and smiled ruefully up at her. "Right. There's true, and then there's true."

Ian snorted. "Then there's gospel. Might as well face up to it, Mate. Every word… gospel."

Beth grinned, ruffling Daniel's hair affectionately. " Anyway ," she continued pointedly, "Ian hauled him into the room, shoved him down on one of the counter stools, shook his finger in his face, and ordered, 'Play!' Then he tucked up his fiddle and started in."

Jason, grinning like a demon, loudly crunched a carrot stick. "Daniel was a hoot—sitting there with his eyes round as dinner plates and his mouth hanging open. I've noticed you haven't broken him of that habit."

Daniel flashed Jason a venomous look, then turned his attention back toward the floor. He'd developed a focused interest in Jack's black dress socks, and Jack could feel little tugs and twitches as long fingers explored.

"He didn't move for at least thirty seconds." Beth was stroking Daniel's head gently. "Just sat there hugging his guitar. Then his fingers started twitching."

"Did not!" A breath of chilly air informed Jack that his right sock had succumbed to pressure.

"Oh, yes they did. Twitching. You couldn't have stopped yourself if we'd had a gun to your head, Angel. Then he started to play. Just softly at first, just chords and arpeggios. But by the end of the second repetition, he was improvising around the melody. By the time Ian was finished, they were playing in tandem. Then Jason brought out his guitar, and the rest, as they say, was inevitable."

Ian lowered his drawing tablet into his lap. "I've gotta tell you, Jack, I've never seen anything like it. Played with a lot of guitarists in my life, but never met another one like Daniel." His tone was dead serious. He sought Daniel's eyes with his own, attesting to his sincerity. "If I could get you to record with me, Daniel, we'd both clean up."

The high color in Daniel's face abruptly drained away. "Ah… no. Sorry."

"Yeah, I know. Same old story?"

Daniel nodded apologetically.

"So…" Beth derailed the dip toward seriousness. "For the next two years, we had music every night."

Ian's laughter erupted. "My lads were fair stunned when I got back to England. They figured they'd have to teach me the business all over again. I was a pretty fair fiddler before I came here. But when I went home I was five times the musician I'd ever been. All Daniel's fault. He used to bring music and recordings home with him from the library over at the University. Different fiddling styles, classical for God's sake. Stuff I'd never heard and never been interested in."

With a tug that exposed Jack's other foot, Daniel finally sat up. "None of us had much money. That was before Ian got famous. So we improvised."

"Yeah—a lot of the stuff we played earlier tonight was Cape Breton style—something I'd never heard before I came here, incidentally. It's a Canadian form—amazingly complex and very difficult. Really jazzed up my fiddling, I can tell you. Traditional Cape Breton combines fiddle with a piano. But we didn't have one. So Daniel and Jason did their best to do the piano parts on the guitar. Ended up with something pretty unique."

Daniel tilted his head and flashed Ian a smile. "And how you could have spent your whole life playing a fiddle and never paid attention to the world's violinists I still can't figure."

"Rub it in, boy, rub it in. I learned, right?"

"Eventually."

Ian grabbed Daniel's bare left foot and ran his callused fingertip the length of the sole, making his victim yelp and writhe.

"Watch yourself, Mate. You're in a peculiarly vulnerable position just there." Ian yelped himself as Daniel grabbed him around the middle and rolled them both over onto the floor. As earlier, Ian found himself firmly positioned on the bottom.

Jason watched the two men wrestling and giggling on the floor, shaking his head in mock dismay. "Disgraceful what these arty types get up to, isn't it?"

Grinning, Jack reached forward to retrieve his archaeologist. "That's enough, kiddies. No fighting."

Panting with laughter, Ian remained flat on his back. "God, what a lot of fun we had. Damned if I didn't end up taking violin at bloody University! Learned things about my instrument I'd never suspected. We challenged and teased each other until we were all doing things we'd never thought we could do." A shade of reminiscent sorrow touched his voice. "A pretty magical time. Turned me from a journeyman fiddler to a master, I tell you. The rest of my band has never met Daniel, but they make burnt offerings in his name every morning at down."

"Ian!" Daniel's cheeks were flaming again.

"True, Daniel. Well, in principle at least." Still on his back, he brought his hands together prayerfully. "You're the patron saint of Hess."

All but Daniel burst into laughter at the tones of reverent worship.

<<<<<>>>>>

Jack polished the last of the glasses and set it back in the cupboard over Beth's head.

"Last one, Beth. Anything else you need?"

The two of them had volunteered to do cleanup duty, shooing the three younger men out onto the deck to reminisce and rebuild old ties. Beth had been performing a not-so-subtle interrogation as they washed and wiped.

She pulled open the fridge and grabbed a couple of beers.

"Nope. Come on… let's settle down and chat while the boys are still occupied."

Obediently, Jack followed her back into the lounge. Most of the interior lights had been doused, and through the windows they could see the three heads silhouetted against the moonlit ocean. The view was breathtaking, even in the dark.

"So, Jack… Is Daniel happy?"

Startled, he almost choked on the mouthful of beer he was swallowing.

"Ah… Yeah, I think he is."

"He seems… bigger. Much more confident than when I knew him. But… there are a lot of shadows in those eyes, Jack."

He leaned back in the soft chair, eyes fixed on the ceiling. "Yes, there are. I won't lie to you, Beth. He's been through a lot of bad times. And some of them were my fault. A lot of the rest of them probably wouldn't have happened if he hadn't been with me." He rolled his head to face her. "And no, I'm not going to give you any details. Some of them you can talk to him about; some definitely come under the protection of 'Top Secret,' and he knows better than to talk about what he shouldn't."

He saw the determined speculation in her face. Sitting up straight, he reached out to take her hand.

"Beth, I know you love him. And they said something earlier about him doing whatever you tell him to do. But if you care about his future happiness, and his ability to find fulfillment, you won't tease him to tell you things he's sworn not to reveal. You could do a lot of damage in the name of comfort. So please be careful. Don't make him choose between doing what you want and having the life he's built for himself."

With a slight grimace, she squeezed his hand. "All right. It's hard, but I can control this mother thing. Just… make me believe that staying with you, doing whatever it is he's doing, is the best thing for him."

He shook his head. "Can't really do that. Maybe he can, but I can't. There are days when I wish he'd never left the academic world, despite the crappy way they were treating him. But I'm selfish. I want him with me. I know he gets hurt; I know he's suffered some terrible losses. But I could never willingly give him up. You want to be convinced, talk to him."

She stared into his face for a moment, then smiled. "Oh, I don't think I'll need to do that."

Jack felt his own face heat. "Ah… Can I assume that we've just received your blessing?"

"Conditionally." She laughed at his chagrined face. "I'll be watching you, now that he's let me back in. You take care of my Angel, or you'll discover the real meaning of the word 'Mother.'"

"Believe me, that's a lesson I don't need to learn. One of these days, you'll have to meet my mom. Something tells me you'd get along just fine."

She laughed again and pulled her hand out from under his to pat him gently.

"I'd be delighted. It seems to me she's raised a fine son."

Jack wriggled uncomfortably, thinking guiltily about some of the things that had been part of his life before he'd met Daniel. He could hardly blame them on his mother, but…

"Beth… Something Ian said puzzled me."

Smiling at the obvious dodge, she quirked an eyebrow at him.

"About recording. He said he'd like to record with Daniel. But you all seemed to agree that they'd never do it."

"Ah, yes." She shook her head a bit sadly. "Daniel is a marvelous musician, but he can't perform. Just can't do it."

"You mean he doesn't like the stage stuff?"

"I mean he can't , Jack. Not that he doesn't like to, or that he won't. I used to sing at local coffee houses, and once I bullied Daniel into playing for me. They were right, you see. I can get him to do whatever I really want him to. That was a mistake I never made again."

"He played badly?"

"Oh, no. I don't think he's capable of playing badly. He played beautifully. But he sat through the entire set with his eyes closed and his head down. And he spent the half hour before we performed on his knees in front of the toilet."

"Yeesh!"

"Exactly. Taught me a painful lesson about using my influence indiscriminately. Come here… let me show you something…"

She stood and beckoned Jack to follow as she walked over to the sideboard where Daniel's unlocked guitar case still sat.

"You'll have to get him to tell you about this guitar some day. It was a gift—specially made for him by a Japanese gentleman named Katsuo. Look here…"

She turned on the floor lamp beside the sideboard, then lifted the lid of the case. Inside the top, up at the head end, was a polished brass plate. Squinting and leaning close, Jack read, For Daniel. Even a Private Artist Deserves the Finest of Brushes. The words were followed by the same three Japanese characters that were burned into the pale wood of the body of the guitar.

Beth's index finger slid over the delicate symbols. "Ka-tsu-o," she murmured.

Private artist. Jack felt his throat tighten. Oh, yeah. That was Daniel, in so many ways.

<<<<<>>>>>

Their leave-taking was noisy and tearful. Five people could manage a lot of hugging, especially when one of them was a long-lost and much-beloved adopted family member.

"Enough, already!" Jack yelled, laughing. "We're gonna be back tomorrow. I promise I won't spirit him off during the night, okay?" He gently pried Daniel out of Beth's surprisingly strong hold.

"Promise, Angel. You'll come first thing in the morning. Come for breakfast. Come and wake us up. We won't mind."

Daniel laughed damply. "Jason might have something to say about that."

Jack pulled Daniel back against his chest, rubbing his cheek against soft hair. "You can relax, Jason. I won't let him out before, oh, about six tomorrow."

Jason emitted a theatrical groan. "Hey, us business moguls get to sleep late. It's one of the perks!"

"Actually, that was an empty threat. It takes a crowbar and a quart of coffee to get him out of bed before nine."

"Jack!"

Amid the laughter, Daniel collected a final kiss from Beth. He reached out to grasp Ian's and Jason's hands. Then Jack finally managed to maneuver him out the door and into the ocean-scented darkness.

They didn't speak as they unlocked the rental, stowed the precious guitar carefully in the back, and slid through their doors. Jack glanced at the man in the passenger seat, then smiled gently and leaned across.

"Oh, Daniel. I can't take you anywhere, can I," he said softly, wiping the moisture off tear-streaked cheeks.

"S… sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for. They are one hell of a bunch."

A watery chuckle signaled Daniel's agreement. "Oh, God. It was just like… we just fell right back together. I thought it would be so much harder."

"Love is love, Danny. The real thing lasts."

A vivid smile rewarded him. Daniel's hand gently stroked his cheek. "Yes. It does."

The promise in those bright blue eyes sent Jack's fingers fumbling eagerly for the ignition key. 'Oh, yeah. So it does.'

<<<<<<>>>>>>

Jack tilted his head back, luxuriating in the pounding of the water. Gotta love hotels with good water pressure and massage heads in the shower.

He grinned into the stream, enjoying the weird feeling of the water pouching out his cheeks and beating on his teeth. God, what a day. He was anticipating tomorrow with Daniel's friends with an enthusiasm he hadn't felt for a long time. Great people. Wonderful people who had the terrific taste to love his Daniel.

Speaking of which… He twisted the handles to cut off the water, reaching blindly for the towel he'd hung on the rack beside the shower. His great day wasn't over yet. Better not drag his feet—dessert was still on the table.

As he briskly toweled himself dry, he became aware of the sounds creeping past the bathroom door. Daniel was playing his guitar. But it wasn't the same… no driving rhythm or leaping fountains of exuberance. This was delicate and transparent. Ethereal and utterly lovely.

For a moment, Jack simply stood and listened. Then he wrapped a dry towel around his waist and flicked the bathroom lights off. Slowly, carefully, he opened the door into the bedroom.

He slipped silently out into the darkness of the room, and caught his breath in delight. Daniel was sitting cross-legged in the middle of one of the beds, chest bare, lower body covered by soft, fuzzy pajamas. His eyes were closed, his head tilted back as his fingers caressed the strings of the guitar. The only light in the room came through the sheer curtains on the windows behind him. The soft backlight limned his cheek, lit his hair with a gentle radiance. It glistened along the refractive inlay on the guitar's neck and teased along wrists, fingers and the elegant toes of one foot. The curve of his leg bore a faint halo—night's glow diffused through the fuzz of flannel.

Jack knew he'd never seen anything so beautiful.

He stood silent and motionless until the sweet sounds trailed away and Daniel opened his eyes. As he realized Jack had been watching, his mouth softened into a sweet, welcoming smile. The serene happiness illuminating Daniel's face was a revelation.

Jack returned the smile, then moved slowly to sit on the bed.

"Damn, that was really pretty. Not the same as what you guys were playing."

Daniel leaned across to slip the instrument into the open case waiting on the other bed, then turned back into Jack's arms.

"Mmmm." He nuzzled into Jack's neck, then settled his head in his favorite spot on Jack's left shoulder. "That's what Beth calls 'Daniel's music.' I never played fiddle music until I met Ian."

Jack rubbed his cheek against Daniel's head. "Daniel's music?"

Daniel lifted his head and grinned mischievously. "Yes. It isn't, though. Actually, that was Turlough O'Carolan's music."

Jack elevated his brows, tilting his head in confusion.

Daniel laughed gently. "O'Carolan. The last of the great Irish bards."

Still confused, Jack shook his head back and forth.

"Harpist, Jack. O'Carolan was a famous harpist. Actually, he's the source of the traditional legend of the 'blind Irish harpist.'"

"Ah… was he? Blind, I mean? And I hate to point this out, but you don't play the harp. Or at least I don't think you play the harp. After today, I'd believe almost anything you told me you could do."

The grin softened to tenderness, and Daniel leaned close to kiss him. "Yes. He was blind. And I did notice this wasn't a harp. That's why I started playing high-strung… I got fascinated by the old harp music. So I transcribed some of it for the guitar. But it never sounded right until I started retuning the strings."

"Oh." Jack thought a moment. "Come to think of it, I forgot to ask about that. Kind of got distracted somewhere." He snuffled in Daniel's hair for a couple of seconds. "And that reminds me. Another thing I forgot to ask. What about the other guitar?"

Daniel's brow furrowed in momentary confusion. "Wh…? Oh! You mean…" he cuddled closer, running his tongue along the angle of Jack's jaw. "That's my dad's old Martin. Almost the only thing of his I have." He nestled again into his favorite nook. "Haven't the faintest idea how it managed to stay with me during those first couple of years. That's the guitar I taught myself on." His hand stroked gently across Jack's bare chest. "Was a good guitar once. Unfortunately, deserts and a lot of outdoor exposure don't do much for a guitar. It was already in pretty bad shape when my dad died. I… I don't play it. Couldn't, after I had to give up the Katsuo. But I'd never get rid of it." Daniel's hand drifted down toward the towel girdling Jack's hips.

Jack deflected the hand by twining his own fingers with Daniel's.

"Danny, talk to me about the guitar."

Daniel obviously knew Jack was no longer talking about his father's guitar. His gaze dropped to their clasped hands. "God, Jack. It's so special." A smile flickered across his lips. "Some day I'll tell you about Katsuo, but for now… well, he made it for me when I was fifteen. I'd met him about two years earlier. I used to come into his shop and just look at the guitars. Eventually, he asked if I'd like to play one. I'd never had my hands on a good instrument before. It was… I… Well, I was kind of bowled over. Anyway, when the time came for me to… move on, he gave me that guitar. I can't… There just aren't words to tell you how much it meant to me. How much it still does."

He lifted his head to meet Jack's eyes. "Selling it was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do in my life. I'd done everything else I could think of. My reputation was in tatters, I didn't have a penny… it was like the final fall into the abyss. Selling that guitar meant that I'd reached the end; there was nowhere else for me to go. That was like losing the last piece of the me that had a future. About two months later, Katherine rescued me from that rainy curb."

Jack's brow furrowed, and he stroked his free hand over Daniel's cheek. "The last piece. Damn."

A smile lit Daniel's face. "Was, Jack. For five years, you've been helping me gather up all the pieces I'd lost, and a few bright, shiny new ones as well. I think tonight I found the last missing part of my puzzle."

He pulled his hand free and returned to his previous stroking, cuddling close to bring as much of his body as possible into contact with Jack's skin. Jack indulged in a bit of stroking of his own as he felt long, meticulous fingers begin to investigate the towel around his waist. He was definitely cluing in to the fact that his archaeologist had other things besides guitars on his mind. "Ummm. Whatchadoin', Danny?"

A moist giggle blew against his shoulder. "You need a map, old man?"

Jack laughed, wrapped his arms around his lover's warm body, and rolled them both down onto the mattress. "Old man? Dear me, I do believe Dr. Jackson is in need of some retraining. He seems to have forgotten who's in charge here."

Daniel writhed happily under Jack's body, pulling the towel from between them and flinging it onto the floor. "Oh, yeah. Show me, tough guy. Leave bruises… I'll have something to show to Beth tomorrow."

Jack froze. "You wouldn't."

Pure devilry sparkled up at him. "You willing to risk it?"

Jack pulled back. "Nope. So you're celibate tonight, smart mouth. You take a stand, there's consequences!"

"Jack!" Daniel laughed, grabbing his arm. "Don't leave me!"

"You promise to behave?" Jack's fingers were busy with the tie on Daniel's pajamas.

"Swear it." Daniel arched his hips off the bed so Jack could tug the flannel down his long legs. "No tattling."

Relenting, Jack eased his weight back over Daniel's body, indulging in kissing that luscious mouth.

"Mmmm, Daniel…" Kiss.

"Hmm?" Lick.

"Those pieces." Kiss nibble kiss. "What about…" Kiss. "… me… 'm I one of those pieces?"

Daniel's hands cradled Jack's head, stilling his affectionate attentions. "Oh, yes. The best… the very best of them." Mischief glinted in his eyes as his thumbs tenderly caressed the outer corners of Jack's eyes. "You have such nice in-and-out bits."

Jack laughed and turned his head to nibble on a finger. "Naughty boy."

A wriggle and a smug smile testified to Daniel's acceptance of his inner naughtiness. "These days, whenever possible."

Jack laughed out loud. "God, Danny. We have released the essential child, haven't we?"

Daniel's wriggles were assuming a purposeful rhythm.

"MmmHmm. Uh, Jack…?" He was panting, and treating Jack to the through-the-eyelashes business.

"Yes, Daniel?"

"Since we're releasing inner children…" He hesitated. Jack could feel tension building in the body underneath his. The pants were graduating to gasps.

"Come on, Danny. What do you want?

"Well…" Gasp. "I thought maybe…" Pant pant. "How do you feel about…" Gasp. "early Christmas presents?"

Jack's own excitement level was quickly catching up with his partner's.

"Mmmmm? Love presents…" Pant. "Any time…"

"So…" Daniel abruptly wrapped his legs around Jack's hips and arched upward. "Want one?"

Jack froze, teeth stilled in mid-nibble. There was no doubt what Daniel was offering. Jack felt a shiver of apprehension crawl down his spine. They'd done pretty much everything else, faced all of their shared demons in the months since that disastrous mission to 423. But not this. He'd figured Daniel would probably never be able to love this way.

"Danny? I don't have to…"

"I do, Jack. I… I've been thinking…"

"Bad idea. Daniel, we've been doing great. You don't need to do this."

"Yes yes yes I do!"

Jack could feel the tension singing through Daniel's body.

"Daniel, don't. Don't do this for me. I'll never forgive you if you let me hurt you."

"Won't, Jack…"

"Danny, you're thrumming like one of those guitar strings. I can feel how calm you're not about this!"

"Okay, so I'm scared. In fact, I'm so nervous, and so damned excited that if you don't do something about it now you're going to have to explain to the hotel just why they're having to scrape me off the walls!"

Laughing, Jack gently stroked along Daniel's flanks. "Daniel… love… I just don't think you're ready. How many short months ago was it you freaked out when I touched your backside? Give it more time."

"Jaaa…aaack! Do I have to beg?" Daniel pushed his obviously very aroused body upward against Jack. "Please!"

Jack stared down at the sweat-streaked face, gazing into hazy, desperate eyes. And knew he was utterly incapable of refusing this man anything.

Smiling gently, he nodded. "Okay. But we do this my way. Slow and easy. Careful and tender. Right?"

Daniel's vigorous nod made him laugh. "Down, boy. Let's take a bit of the edge off, all right? And I need to find something slick…"

Daniel slid one hand under the pillows and pulled out a white tube. Jack felt his jaw drop, then shook his head, laughing.

"Trust you, Danny." He kissed a flushed cheek as he accepted the tube. "But for the moment, we have other events on the agenda."

Brushing his lips gently against Daniel's, he crouched up, soothing tenderly as the other man murmured an objection.

"Not going anywhere, Danny. I'm right here." Jack kept his left hand intertwined with Daniel's right, and let the other stroke slowly down his lover's sweat-slick body. It swept across the finely muscled chest, teasing each nipple as it passed, then continued down to fondle the quivering stomach. Drifting lower, his fingers carded softly through wiry pubic curls, then rubbed inner thighs and trailed through the creases at the tops of Daniel's long legs. Daniel's body shivered and writhed under the tender attention; soft, eager sounds escaped from his gasping lips. His hips jerked upward as the exploring fingers cupped and carefully massaged his testes.

"Right here…" Jack whispered as he lowered his mouth to take the head of Daniel's erect penis between his lips. The startled cry he earned sent a wave of heat through his own body. Licking and suckling, he pampered the quivering organ, his right hand continuing its mesmerizing attentions.

As he felt Daniel approaching his breaking point, Jack favored a creamy inner thigh with one final loving stroke, then fumbled for the tube of lubricant. Clumsily, he removed the cap one-handed and squeezed a liberal amount out onto his shaking fingers, then tossed the tube aside—close enough to be easily retrieved, but far enough away to avoid messy accidents.

Squeezing his hand to spread the gel over his fingers, he returned the hand to its previous duty—caressing and stroking heated skin.

He lifted his mouth from Daniel's jerking penis and licked and nibbled gently along the smooth skin of his tummy.

"Okay, Danny. Stay with me a bit here. Listen to me, sweetheart," he mumbled against the heated body. "Gonna be all right, here. Gonna be terrific." It didn't matter what he said. Just needed to keep Daniel's attention on the pleasure.

Slowly, carefully, his right hand slid between Daniel's legs and under his body, ring finger and pinky stroking rhythmically through the crack between his buttocks.

"Here I come, love. Just old Jack. Just me."

Daniel gasped harshly, body jerking violently as Jack's slick fingertip entered him. Crooning meaningless nonsense, Jack returned his attention to the slightly wilted cock, and once again licked and suckled, carefully moving that invading index finger in matching rhythm. Daniel's head tossed, his body writhing with mounting excitement.

Abruptly, with an incoherent cry, Daniel arched off the bed, body quaking in orgasm. Jack released Daniel's spasming penis, tightening his grip on his lover's trembling hand and transferring his lips to a sweaty, heaving chest. Murmuring softly, he licked and kissed, tonguing a nipple, nipping the sharp ridge of a collarbone. He gently eased his finger free from its hot, clasping nest, wiping it surreptitiously on the edge of the sheet, then sweeping long, tender strokes along moist flanks.

Finally, he stretched his own body along the length of Daniel's, capturing a panting mouth, breathing in the warm puffs of gasping breath as he dropped small, soft kisses on those perfect lips. As Daniel's breathing gradually steadied, Jack deepened the kisses, teasing Daniel's slowly responding tongue, stroking his own along smooth teeth.

"Jack…" whispered longingly. "Jack, I wanted…"

Jack firmly kissed the pout from Daniel's lips.

"I know. Shhh…" He rubbed noses, then kissed again. "We're not done, Danny." Deliberately, he rubbed his own still hard erection against Daniel's hip. "But…" His hands gently kneaded pliant muscle. "… We need you relaxed. You relaxed?"

"Mmmmm…" Daniel's eyes drifted shut, mouth curving in a sated little smile. "… Mmmmyeaaah. Relaxed."

Laughing softly, Jack wrapped his arms and legs around the other man's body and rolled them gently over, luxuriating in the weigh of the beloved body over his. Daniel's lax head dropped onto his own shoulder… Jack's own favorite place for it. Jack's stroking, petting hands continued to rove over heated skin. He tangled his feet with Daniel's, nudging and teasing, bare toe to bare toe and sensitive arch.

He felt the warmth of a panting laugh against his shoulder. "Tickles…"

Jack smiled and ran his left hand through Daniel's sweat-spiked hair, rubbing his scalp soothingly.

"So… ready for the next act?"

"Yeah… okay." Daniel's body tightened slightly. "Ready."

"Shhh. Calm and relaxed, Danny. I really need you to stay relaxed for me." He allowed his left hand to return to its soothing massage, and was rewarded by the loosening of muscles in the back under his palm. His right hand reached again for the tube of lubricant, then began to stroke and pet silky buttocks, teasing through the crack between.

"Upping the ante, here. Stay with me, stay calm. Listen to my voice…"

Carefully, he again slipped his index finger past the tight rings guarding the most private part of Daniel's body. Daniel's panting harshened for a moment, but as Jack stroked gently and continued his litany of comfort, the breathing evened out and calmed. Stroking, petting, crooning… Daniel's body began to subtly rock to the rhythm of Jack's hand.

"Bit more, now. Relaxed, loose." Talk, doesn't matter what, just talk.

A second slick finger joined the first. For a moment, Daniel tensed, grunting softly.

"Love you, love you so much. Stay relaxed for me, Danny." After a few seconds, the tightness drained from Daniel's body, then the movement resumed—gentle rocking, rocking in an ancient rhythm. Daniel gradually began nuzzling and licking Jack's chest, tugging on the wiry hair, mouthing and nipping an available nipple.

Jack was very aware that he couldn't continue this much longer if he was going to make it to the main event. Daniel's blind pampering was bringing Jack's own little soldier to ramrod attention.

"Be with me, Danny. Getting a bit tougher now, but we're okay. We're just fine."

A third finger joined the internal massage.

"Jack!" This time the grunt was clearly the result of pain. Jack felt Daniel's muscles lock up in shock, and stilled his hand's movement.

"It's all right, just fine. Wait it out. Relax, relax." Jack's left hand was back in Daniel's hair, rubbing, caressing. "Stay here with me, buddy. Stay here."

He continued the soft murmurs, waiting out the pain. Gradually, Daniel's body relaxed, and he began to rub his head against Jack's soothing hand.

"Okay?"

A slightly jerky nod. "Okay."

Jack very slowly resumed the movement of his left hand, gently stroking, stroking. And was finally rewarded by the resumption of Daniel's dazed rocking. A few moments of heated communion, then Jack carefully removed his fingers, again wiping them on the sheet.

He swept his hands up Daniel's ribs and over his shoulders, finally cradling and lifting his flushed face.

"Time for the big show, Danny. Last chance to bail."

Daniel managed a tiny shake of his head. "No. Want this, Jack," he whispered.

"All right, here we go." Jack eased out from under Daniel's lax body and grabbed one of the pillows.

"Scoot up, Daniel. Lie on this." He slid the pillow under Daniel's groin, then straddled his long legs, gently massaging the taut bottom. He felt the returning tension in the muscles under his hands.

"Shhh… Remember, relax. Easy."

"No, Jack." Daniel tried to roll over, unable to shift Jack's weight. "Not like this."

Jack gritted his teeth as Daniel's wriggles brushed smooth skin against his nearly painful erection.

"Easy, easy. This way is best… easiest for you."

"No! Jack." There was a touch of panic in the words. Jack shifted off Daniel's thighs, and the other man immediately rolled over.

"Like this, Jack." He reached for Jack, pulling him between his own legs. "Like this." He flexed his spine and lifted his legs to wrap them around Jack's body.

"Danny, this way is harder. It'll hurt more."

"Like this!" Daniel lifted his hips insistently, throwing his head back against the pillows. "Please… I need to see… I need to know it's you!"

Realization burst through Jack's consciousness. "Oooh. All right, Danny. This is just fine." He leaned over to kiss and nip Daniel's lips. "I got it."

Another slather of lubricant on his fingers, and he returned to the careful internal massage, beginning with one finger, graduating quickly to two and then to three. Daniel's adjustment was much faster and more comfortable than the first time. And almost immediately, his cock filled and rose.

At last, at last, Jack decided his lover was as prepared as he could make him. Again, he removed his fingers and anointed them with the slick gel. This time, he used the hand to smear his own penis. He smiled tightly as long, clumsy fingers joined his, hindering more than helping, but welcome nonetheless.

One final licking kiss, then he positioned himself and carefully pushed. Daniel cried out as the head breached the tight rings of muscle. Jack froze, clenching his teeth desperately.

"…wait it out… wait it out…" Daniel's faint, panting words shivered down Jack's spine. He grunted as long fingers dug into the muscles of his thighs.

He locked every muscle in his body, desperately trying to control the urge to thrust into the body he wanted so badly. Slowly, slowly, thank God, Daniel relaxed and pushed slightly down on Jack's cock.

"Okay, love? You all right?"

Daniel's tightly closed eyes opened and gazed up into Jack's. He nodded jerkily, stroking the thighs he'd been abusing ten seconds earlier. "G… good. I'm good."

Jack smiled down into those absurdly trusting eyes. "Sooo… not as good as you're gonna be." He stroked the back of his clean hand down Daniel's sweaty cheek. Could a heart explode from love? "Here we go…"

Jack opened his eyes to the thin light of a rainy December morning. The window sheers drifted slightly as the heater moved the air in the room. He was vaguely aware of certain demands from his bladder and his stomach.

But he was much more acutely conscious of the warm, heavy body draped over his. Of the head nestled on his chest, just where his heartbeat could most easily be sensed. Of the knee between his legs and the arm wrapped possessively around his waist.

God, what Daniel had given him last night. What an amazing gift Daniel was. All Jack's. If he'd ever had any doubts, the offer of the previous evening would have laid them to rest forever.

He slowly became aware of drowsy blue eyes gazing up at him and dragged his hand up to cup a bristled cheek, returning the besotted smile he received.

'Love you, Daniel. My private artist. Love you forever.'