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Daniel wandered into the cafeteria for lunch on the Monday after Thanksgiving, lost in thought about the traces of the Furling language that SG-10 had found engraved in some ruins the previous week, and nearly knocked over Walter. He was up on a ladder, draping gold tinsel around the doorway.
"Sorry!" Daniel said, steadying the ladder with both hands.
"Nice catch," Walter said, and kept on stringing.
Daniel, shaken out of his reverie, glanced around the large, humid room. Over the heads of the chatting, uniformed diners, there were lots of snowflakes and tinsel brightening the concrete walls, and, over the serving window, all the reindeer in flight, with Santa in a sleigh.
Dammit, he thought. And I was doing so well avoiding thinking about it.
Since he'd reappeared in human form on P4T-366, he'd tried his best to jam himself back into the life his teammates had been so desperately eager for him to resume. He had, to his great relief, remembered a great deal about that life, but, despite what he'd told Jonas, it was quite likely he hadn't remembered everything. Because how could you even quantify 'everything'? People without Ancient-induced amnesia forgot things all the time. The human memory was famously unreliable. And, there was no way for him to know what he didn't know.
But as he'd told Jack, he'd remembered enough. True, odd new things continued to crop up from time to time, memories that surprised him and had to be accommodated and integrated. One of the most unsettling memories in that category was his apparently longstanding attraction to Jack. Actually 'attraction' was much too inadequate a word. Name it correctly: His unrequited love for Jack.
That had taken him awhile to put into words. He had felt a connection to Jack, Sam and Teal'c immediately, and it had scared him. Something eerie and familiar had washed over him when he caught sight of the team he later learned was Al Reynolds' SG-3 -- a strong sense of recognition and yearning that had blindsided him and was like nothing he had experienced until then on the planet that Jonas had called Vis Uban. After he awakened in the forest there, he had remembered nothing except how to speak, how to get through everyday things like washing, cooking -- simple chores. He knew nothing personal; nothing about himself or his past or his needs or preferences or dreams.
Under those circumstances, it was a shock to feel something so emotional and so strong when he caught sight of the teams from Earth. It unsettled him so much that his first reaction was to try to conceal everything he was feeling from all the uniformed strangers he met that day. He'd gone for the obvious first, asking Sam if they had been together, thinking perhaps that would explain his intense sense of familiarity. When she denied it (and he had no reason, that day or any day since, to doubt her), he'd fallen back on watching and waiting. He'd accepted the connection before he understood any of the details, any of the history.
In the weeks since, although distracted by various crises, battles, and brushes with death, he thought he'd figured it out. Memories returned, with no pattern to their appearance. Sometimes he woke up of a morning effortlessly knowing new things. Sometimes an event or a piece of writing would trigger a flood of information. Sometimes the new information was overwhelming. But that feeling of having returned to the right place had stayed with him. At first, after ruling out a relationship with Sam, he'd thought it was a kind of unconscious homesickness, a yearning toward the people he belonged with. But mostly, he had slowly realized, it was about Jack. He, it seemed, had been missing Jack before he even identified who Jack was. Jack was the strongest anchor he'd yet identified to his life before Ascension. But, the relationship he yearned for, he knew now, was like a door he could never open.
He had learned, as the days went by, why the rules and customs of his old life before Vis Uban had prevented him from speaking to Jack, from feeling him out, and from any of the more obvious forms of flirting. The more he learned and remembered about Jack and about their friendship, the more he understood why he hadn't risked it. And why he never could.
That was part of his desire to avoid Christmas. It wasn't about the fact that he didn't have any family left, or that he wasn't particularly religious. It was that he still felt so unsettled about being alone with the team outside of missions, and especially about being alone with Jack. And the problem was that ever since Thanksgiving, Jack had been happily plotting to get them all to his cabin in Minnesota for the Christmas holiday.
They'd eaten Thanksgiving dinner at Sam's -- 'they' meaning the whole team, plus more. Daniel had tried to beg off, but she'd looked so disappointed that he changed his answer and said 'yes.'
Even Teal'c had stayed Earthside for the occasion, although he usually used the Earth holidays as a chance to leave through the gate and see his own family. On the day, at Sam's comfortable cottage, the four of them were joined by Janet and Cassie, and several of Sam's friends from the Academy. Everyone brought something, Sam made her mother's pumpkin pie, and it should have been comforting. Homey. A renewal of his life with this team.
Somehow, it made Daniel feel lonelier than ever.
Jack made it a point to sit next to him at dinner. Jack seemed happy -- even jovial. Relaxed, telling stories, playing chess with Cassie. Happy to be there.
When Daniel left at the end of the first wave, Jack stayed. Teal'c was staying at his house over the long weekend, and neither of them showed any signs of wanting to leave the party yet. Janet and Cassie hugged Daniel goodbye, Jack hugged him and admonished him for leaving so early, and reminded him about the plan for Christmas. Teal'c clasped his arm and told him he had enjoyed the party very much.
Sam hugged him, last of all, out on the front porch. He'd parked his pool car down the street; he was still staying at the Mountain. He hadn't had time to even begin to think about where he wanted to live, this time.
With her hands still on his shoulders after the hug, Sam said, "Thank you so much for coming. It meant a lot to all of us to get to spend some time with you like this. And it's such a family holiday. We just...." To Daniel's astonishment, she wiped tears from her eyes before going on. "It just means a lot to us all to have you back. I know you were kind of overwhelmed by the crowd today, and I know you're not entirely used to life on Earth yet. So." She nodded and folded her arms. "Thank you."
Daniel shook his head. "I should be thanking you. You've all done so much to make me welcome, even when I was truly floundering and hadn't remembered much of anything. I guess it's just hard for me to believe that you missed me that much, and that me being here was that big a deal. I'm just one person, after all."
Sam reached out and squeezed his arm, hard. "Believe it, Daniel. It's a very big deal. You're like family to me. To all of us. I hope you know that."
"I think I'm getting it," he said, smiling, and giving her another quick hug before turning away.
Family.
Amazing to think that. And yet -- some things that family implied, he could never have. As he drove away from Sam's house, it was all Christmas carols on the radio. He had snapped the music off quickly.
He shook himself out of contemplating Dasher and Dancer and Rudolph on the wall of the cafeteria, and made himself walk through the serving line and fill his tray. He still honestly couldn't believe the reception his team had given him, was still giving him. As he had said to Sam that first day on Vis Uban, sometimes the old Daniel Jackson felt like way too much to live up to. He still didn't really feel like that person. The present was in vivid color, exciting, frightening, and yet somehow it worked for him. He was finding his balance, with the work at least. He loved the work and he clearly had the skills and the capacity to do it. The memories he had regained seemed distant, so far away and hard to connect with the present. He read reports, he heard stories that matched up with his own fragmentary recollections. And yet, things he thought he should remember like they were yesterday -- the first trip through the gate, Sha're, her death, his parents, the attack by Sarah Gardener when she was possessed by Osiris, other devastating or life-changing events -- they were faded in his mind, like last year's leaves.
He would never be the same; he had accepted that. He tried to live in the present and not worry too much about the past. He didn't know if his team would, or could, do the same.
So in short, Jack kept talking about a white Christmas in Minnesota, and Daniel was afraid. Afraid of being stuck there, awkwardly, with no escape for a week or however long the trip would be. Afraid of saying the wrong thing, doing the wrong thing. Of being too much or too little for the three of them. Of disappointing them somehow.
In early December, they were, the four of them, hiking back to the gate on a milk-run of a mission to a very watery planet. They'd discovered some ruins on a beach, with inscriptions in a language that resembled Greek, but the radiant light the MALP had detected turned out to be only an unusually dense and active luminescent algae. Sam collected a sample, Daniel poked around in the ruins for a bit, and they called it a night.
The gate was uphill from the shore, and on the hike back, Jack kept turning to throw ideas over his shoulder.
"So, Christmas. We'll have plenty of time to cook, so I'm thinking instead of a ham, how about a brisket? I've never been that big of a fan of ham anyway."
Daniel made noncommittal noises.
Jack went on, "Teal'c, you'll be happy to know that in the winter, there are no mosquitoes. And I can show you a whole new way to fish -- you get out on the pond, which is frozen two feet thick by the end of December, and cut a hole through the ice."
Carter, who was bringing up the rear this time, called, "Sir, I've been meaning to let you know. Mark is counting on me this year, since I couldn't make it last year, and it looks like Dad will actually have an opportunity to come back to Earth about that time as well."
"Carter! You're really playing the relatives card this year? Just when we've got Daniel back and everything?"
Daniel glanced back. She was smiling. "I know, it seems like a copout. But we had a wonderful Thanksgiving with Daniel. And if I skip another Christmas with Mark's family, I won't even recognize the girls the next time I see them."
"All right. I guess."
"I, too, O'Neill, must excuse myself. Thanksgiving was indeed most enjoyable, but I have allowed too much time to pass since my last visit with Ry'ac. I wish to see how his training with Bra'tac is progressing."
"All right, fine. No brisket for you two. And I'm warning you: Don't expect any leftovers, either, after Daniel and I get through them. Daniel, I saw how you dove into those ribs on 467 last week, at the treaty-signing banquet." Jack looked back, and he was grinning. "It'll be just you and me. And the brisket. Like old times."
"Have I been to the cabin? I don't remember that I ever have."
"I meant 'old times' in the general sense. You know," Jack waved a hand and turned away to give his full attention to negotiating a steep patch in the trail.
"In the general sense," Daniel muttered. This really didn't sound like a good idea at all.
The next day, Jack came into his lab with printout of possible flights. "I hate to fly commercial, but this time of year it's probably our most foolproof way of getting in and out of there without getting stranded because of weather delays. I can rent an SUV in Hibbing; the place is only a two-hour drive from there. And if we drive down to Denver for the flight out, we won't have to change planes."
He leaned over and spread the creases out of the paper, taking over Daniel's blotter, pointing out the best flights on the most convenient dates.
"You have a preference?" he said, after he'd explained the options, and he looked so happy and full of anticipation that Daniel just didn't have the heart to shut him down.
"No; whatever you think would be best is fine. Let me know what I owe you for the ticket."
"I'll just put it on the Visa and you can pay me back whenever. I know where you work," Jack said, patting him on the shoulder and winking on his way out.
"Do I have a preference," Daniel muttered to himself, wondering all over again what he'd gotten himself into. If you only knew the half of it....
^^^^
Jack, as it turned out, was the perfect traveling companion. He was charming, he made conversation, and when Daniel signaled by his brief answers that he didn't want to talk, Jack fell silent without pouting. Also, when he'd picked Daniel up, he'd brought coffee. Their flight was ridiculously early, to give them plenty of time to get to the cabin before dark, so coffee was a necessity on the first leg.
Boarding the plane in Denver, Jack hesitated only long enough to glance into the cockpit without looking suspicious, and seemed to have to consciously settle himself into passenger mode. Daniel could easily imagine that he hated being flown to the same degree that he loved flying.
Jack had brought some kind of small handheld game with earbuds (a 'Gameboy', Daniel's memory surprisingly supplied), which he pulled out when Daniel pulled out a book, and, later in the flight, Daniel noticed him working crosswords on several pages torn out of newspapers and apparently saved up.
Daniel smiled ruefully at that, and went back to his book. He remembered that he had given up on taking the newspaper at home years ago. They stacked up, useful only as kindling. After the new year, he really needed to look into moving out of the Mountain. Putting it off wouldn't make it any easier, and he was getting a little claustrophobic.
For the last hour or so of the flight, Jack dozed, and when his head slipped sideways to rest against Daniel's shoulder, Daniel, hiding conveniently behind his book, closed his eyes and just soaked up the contact for a while. No one would be the wiser, he reasoned.
For the last leg by truck, Daniel expressed no desire to drive, since Jack knew the way blindfolded, presumably. In the slanting afternoon light, Daniel looked out at the snowy scenery with interest, as this was a state he'd never visited before. At least, so he thought.
They stopped at a grocery store and loaded up with food for the week, Jack shopping surely and without searching, and without a list, either. Daniel insisted on paying for the food and Jack graciously conceded.
Daniel found himself dozing as darkness fell and Jack steered the truck along progressively smaller and narrower roads. The bumpiness of the final, unplowed approach woke him.
Jack left the headlights of the truck pointed at the front of the cabin when he got out to unlock the door and then turn on some lights, including a flood on the eaves, aimed at the front yard.
"Motion detector," Jack said, as he tromped back through the snow and opened the back hatch to get the first armful of groceries. "When we're done here I'll switch it over."
"Good idea," Daniel said, stretching, then coming back to take his share of the load. "That way you can see the stars."
"You got it," Jack said, flashing him an unguarded smile that made Daniel pause, heat flooding his body, and then realize he was smiling like a loon in return.
Jack didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary, and he turned toward the house, arms full of paper sacks of food. The wooden porch was broad and a bit saggy. There was a stack of firewood by the door, under a snowy tarp.
Daniel paused inside the front door to look around curiously. The place was obviously old and well used. There was nothing fancy about it at all. The front room was full of broken-in, mismatched, comfortable-looking furniture. The fireplace and exposed chimney looked handmade. There was a sharp chill about the place that spoke of months of disuse. Following the muffled banging of cabinets opening, Daniel found his way to the generously sized kitchen, and to Jack. There were broad counters covered in marbled yellow linoleum, a table and chairs trimmed in chrome straight out of an episode of the Dick Van Dyke show, and a hanging lamp with a pull chain. The refrigerator was propped open, obviously turned off.
Jack said, as he unloaded sacks, "I plug that in during the summer. Since I only get up here three or four times a year, any more, it doesn't make sense to keep it running all the time."
Daniel nodded his understanding and turned back to head for the truck and more grocery sacks. It was the work of only a few more minutes to get everything inside.
Jack unlocked the kitchen door and stepped out onto a deck that extended to overlook the shore of the frozen pond. There was a metal box right outside the door, with a lid that latched, rather like an oversized ice chest, and into this Jack unloaded all the perishables.
"The only problem with this system is that you can't keep eggs very well. Too warm inside, and out here, they freeze. My solution is to have pancakes from a mix for breakfast. Just add milk."
"Works for me," Daniel said, and then he felt it was silly to stand uselessly in the cold, watching Jack put food into the storage box. He went back through the kitchen to the front room, and began bringing in wood from the stack on the porch to lay the fire. There were kindling and newspapers by the hearth already, and a box of wooden matches.
Jack came in to find him with his head in the fireplace, arranging logs on top of kindling.
"Good idea," Jack said, rubbing his hands. They both still had their coats and hats on. He continued, as Daniel sent tiny tongues of flame through his carefully constructed fuel, "There's two bedrooms downstairs, and they both have electric blankets on the beds. The rooms will warm up if we leave the doors open -- the fireplace isn't just for show. Upstairs is a different story."
"Sounds good," Daniel said, sitting back on his heels to admire how his well-laid fire was catching eagerly. He noted the vents all around the fireplace, cleverly designed to send heat into the room from all possible angles.
"I'm going to go get the well pump started. It's got an electric heater too. Once the tank fills, we can kick on the water heater for a shower in the morning."
"Sounds like you've got a system."
Jack grinned at him again -- that same open, relaxed grin of earlier. Again, it took Daniel entirely off his guard. So unlike the guarded, controlled Jack of SG-1 missions. As far as he knew or remembered, at least. "Most of the creature comforts I added. My dad and my grandpa really believed in roughing it. I don't know how my mom stood it. And I don't think my grandmother came up here even once. When I was a boy, there wasn't a bathroom. My dad added that on. We used to wash in the pond in the summer, and heat water on the stove for a spit bath in the winter."
Daniel chuckled, and turned his attention back to the fire. He heard Jack head outside through the kitchen door.
The broad, shallow fireplace with its many vents heated up the immediate area quite quickly, once the well-seasoned logs had caught. By the time Daniel brought in more logs for overnight, and placed them in the deep box to one side of the fireplace, the living room was quite comfortable.
Jack came in the back again, and Daniel heard him stomping the snow off his boots. When he came into the living room, he'd taken off his coat.
"There we go," he said approvingly, sinking into the battered old sofa in front of the fireplace and stretching out his legs. He'd taken his boots off in the kitchen, Daniel noted. "How can I be more tired from sitting around all day, than on a mission where we march five miles to the gate and back?"
"I don't know," Daniel agreed, sinking into the sofa beside Jack, and bending to unlace his own boots. "But I know that is a strange but true fact. And my lower back agrees."
Jack gave a luxurious stretch to his legs and his arms, arching against the sofa back. Daniel watched him, getting comfortable himself.
Sighing in contentment, his gaze on the flames, Jack said, "Thanks for coming, Daniel. I've wanted to get you up here for a long time. This feels really good to me."
Taken aback by the blunt expression of feelings, Daniel was at a loss for words. Finally he said, "Thanks for having me. It's... nice... to get a glimpse of where you came from. Of a place that means so much to you and your family."
Jack shot him a knowing glance. "You're exactly like family to me, you know. It just feels really good that you're here."
So like what Sam had said at Thanksgiving. Daniel, touched, reached out and gripped Jack's shoulder. Then he settled back into the comfortable sofa and let the dancing flames hypnotize him. All around them, the undisturbed quiet of winter stretched for miles. Some things about family he couldn't have -- but this. This was pretty damned good.
^^^^
The days of their holiday, despite Daniel's fears of boredom, fell into a simple, easy rhythm, marked by chores and meals. Coffee in the morning, then breakfast, and cleaning, and prepping food for the day. A hike outside after lunch, with maybe a little fishing through the ice. Jack puttering in the late afternoon, making repairs or improvements. Sometimes Daniel helped him and sometimes he sat by the fire and read.
Daniel lost track of the days. He knew it was Christmas morning only because of Jack's clues. When he woke up that morning, snug under the electric blanket, only the tip of his nose cold, he heard music. Bundled in a couple of layers, he made his way to the kitchen, following the scent of coffee. Jack was nowhere to be seen, but there was an old boom box on the kitchen counter, playing a cassette tape of Christmas standards. As Daniel listened, smiling, Bing Crosby gave way to Elvis. He wondered if it was a mix tape Jack had made himself, some time in the past. There were several brightly wrapped packages on the kitchen table.
So. Christmas.
He helped himself to coffee, and then went back to his room to open his duffel and dig out the packages he himself had wrapped back in Colorado. He brought them into the kitchen and put them at the other end of the table. Not really "presents near the tree", because there was no tree -- indoors, at any rate -- but it would do.
Jack came in the kitchen door, red cheeked and bundled against the cold, and he had the plastic-wrapped, promised brisket in his arms.
"Good morning! Merry Christmas," he said, looking as happy and contented as Daniel had ever seen him.
"Merry Christmas to you," Daniel said, feeling a bit formal. He wasn't a Christian, didn't really feel the holiday, but as a way to share Jack's mood, expressing the greeting was no effort.
"Aha," Jack said, putting the brisket on the counter and catching sight of the presents. "Santa did bring me something other than coal, I see."
"Of course," Daniel said. "You've been a very good boy," and he grinned.
But for Jack, the joke didn't seem to take. He looked suddenly solemn. "I hope so," he said, and turned away quickly to find a knife and cut into the plastic seal around the brisket.
Daniel cleared his throat, unsure what to say, and took another swallow of coffee. Jack filled the awkward moment by beginning to regale Daniel with the instructions for how to roast a beef brisket, and predicting what time later in the day they would be having their Christmas feast.
"So, while you do all that, I should start breakfast," Daniel observed, looking over Jack's shoulder as he slid the meat into the oven.
"I won't say no," Jack said, wiping his hands on a dish towel and going for more coffee himself.
Daniel busied himself with making pancake batter and getting some sausage frying. He swore he'd already gained five or six pounds on this trip, long hikes in the snow no counter to all the rich, delicious food.
"So, breakfast and then presents, yes?" Jack said.
"Sounds good," Daniel answered, his attention on the skillet and the griddle. He would agree to anything Jack said, about the holiday. This was Jack's territory, not his.
For presents, he had gotten Jack a bottle of Irish whiskey, some Croakies for his sunglasses, and a pair of his beloved fingerless gloves. Jack exclaimed happily over it all.
Jack had gotten him a chess set and a generous gift certificate from an online bookstore. Daniel's grin was entirely unforced.
After they washed up the breakfast dishes, Jack proposed a game. While Daniel was setting up the new board, Jack made another pot of coffee, and brought them both a cup with a slug of the Bushmill's, topped with whipped cream.
Daniel protested, "It's barely ten o'clock."
Jack returned, "It's Christmas! And it's just one shot apiece."
"You're just trying to soften me up so you can win that much easier."
"And my evil plot is revealed," Jack laughed.
The first game, and the second, and the third, were hard fought, with neither conceding a quarter.
Jack stretched, and said, "I'm good for another round, but let's take a walk first. Then maybe lunch."
"You're just trying to prolong your gloating period before I kick your ass and even up the score," Daniel retorted. He was down two games to one, and itching for the rematch. After that breakfast, he wasn't hungry yet.
"Ha," Jack said, and got up to find his coat.
Daniel rebuilt the fire and made sure the screen was secure before putting on his own coat.
Outside, he was very glad he'd put on a knitted hat, as well as a muffler. It was dead calm, but extremely cold. He could feel his breaths freezing before he even finished inhaling. He pulled his hat further down over his ears and pushed his muffler up until it was touching his glasses.
Jack seemed entirely happy in his ball cap, with his parka zipped up to his chin. This was his environment, after all. He had to be much more acclimated to the cold than Daniel could ever dream of being.
They set out through the untracked powdery snow around the pond. The woods were absolutely quiet around them. The light was just shading into the blue of afternoon, the gold of morning spent.
Daniel grinned under his muffler as he spotted a male cardinal, flitting low. He pointed, and Jack grinned in answer as he noticed. Daniel jammed his gloved hand back in his pockets and kept trudging, the cardinal having given him the mental equivalent of a warm spot.
When Jack spoke, as they reached the far edge of the pond, it was a surprise in the immense, arching silence. His breath looked like smoke on the still air.
"I want to tell you something, and I don't want you to feel pressured, but I ... I want you to feel completely free to say, 'No, thank you,' and know that it won't change a thing, won't make me upset in any way at all."
Daniel frowned. This was out of left field. What could Jack be talking about? Before he could frame any sort of reply, Jack went on.
"We're due to leave here day after tomorrow, and I hope you won't feel that the rest of the time has to be awkward if you don't like what I'm going to tell you. I really, really, don't want you to feel any pressure."
"Jack..." Daniel began, starting to worry. What was this? Was he off the team, his less-than-adequate military skills finally catching up to him in Jack's estimation? Or, had Jack recognized his inappropriate attraction and was finally calling him on it? What?
Jack wasn't looking at him. As he walked, he was standing as straight as if he were marching in formation, except his hands were in his pockets. He was looking, as far as Daniel could tell, at the tree line. As far into the distance as was possible. His cheeks were a vivid pink. "All right. Enough beating around."
Jack took a deep breath. "I'm in love with you, Daniel. I have been for years. Since way before you ascended. I was an idiot in every sense of the term back then. Not really able to deal with falling for a guy, even though, back before Sara, that had happened to me more than once. And I was not doing a very good job at all of balancing my feelings for you with my job as your CO."
Daniel could not suppress a snort at the idea of Jack commanding him in any way. And yet, he was suspended, knowing he was mentally and emotionally pinned, stuck, riveted, on those words, an eternal moment ago, when Jack had just said, 'I'm in love with you.' He was desperately clawing his way to catching up. He kept walking, robotlike, wanting urgently to hear Jack, to take in his words. His incredibly important words.
Jack continued, as if reading his mind about the snort, "I know; you never felt that; that I had any authority over you. You're not military; I get that. But I was your CO, like it or not, and that meant I shouldn't feel the way I feel. The way I felt. And I didn't do a good job of handling it. And then I let you, die, ascend, whatever."
And Jack stood still, and turned toward him. His expression was intense, yet fearless. A flood of love and concern washed over Daniel. How brave was Jack, to say all this, with no idea how Daniel would react.
"So we got you back. And I thought about it, and I made up my mind I was going to say something. I wasn't going to blow this second chance, you know? So here it is. I love you, Daniel." Jack licked his lips and looked aside for a brief second, betraying uncertainty. He met Daniel's eyes again, as if forcing himself against fear. "How do you feel about me? Could we make this work? And if we can't, if you need us to be friends, team members only, and--"
Daniel was grinning, under his muffler. He couldn't let Jack twist in the wind a moment longer. He pulled his hands out of his pockets, yanked his muffler away from his mouth and put a hand on Jack's shoulder. Without saying a word, he leaned in.
His own mouth was warm; Jack's was cold. The touch of Jack's lips was a shock. Daniel pressed gently, giving Jack time to catch up, in his turn. Because how could Jack know that what he was saying was the best possible present Daniel could receive? Birthday, Christmas, Hanukkah, all the gift-giving holidays around the world, around the galaxy, rolled into one. Jack's arms came around him. Jack moaned, against and into his mouth. Daniel closed his eyes. The kiss lingered, deepened. They were warm; the world outside was cold. The cold didn't matter. One bit. Jack tasted sweet. Daniel let himself explore, let himself savor. How silly that he had judged this impossible. How much time had they wasted; they could have had this years ago. All along.
That didn't matter. They had it now.
Jack leaned back and met Daniel's eyes. "I guess that's a 'yes,' then," he said. He looked stunned.
"That's a 'I love you, Jack, and I have for years,' " Daniel corrected.
"Oh, Jesus," Jack said. They were still holding on to each other, and Jack leaned his forehead against Daniel's. Daniel could feel his hot, damp breath. "What a couple of idiots."
"Not idiots," Daniel said. Skin brushed skin. He could feel the heat coming off Jack's face now. "Just concerned about the rules. And afraid to push. Afraid to ruin what we had. But if we stand here like this, with a warm house a half mile away, we really are idiots."
"Right," Jack said, laughing, and he cuffed Daniel's shoulder, and turned to walk on, once again cutting their path around the pond through untouched snow. Daniel linked their arms. He felt fizzy, like champagne. He felt he might never be cold again.
"So," Jack said, and the relief in his voice was almost a physical thing, "you felt the same way. All this time."
"All this time," Daniel agreed. Their boots made a shushing sound through the dry snow. Jack's stride was just a bit longer. "I had it bad for you all along, actually. And I'm coming to understand that it was a good thing that you never pushed me about these feelings while I was married. That would have been more than I could take. I wasn't actually a paragon of mental health back then."
"I would never have done that," Jack said, his expression serious, and he put his hand over Daniel's where it rested on his elbow. "I respected your marriage, Daniel; I hope you know that."
"I do," Daniel said, and then he chuckled at the double meaning of the phrase, and then they were silent; holding on to each other, walking steadily, until they were back at the cabin.
Suddenly awkward, they pulled apart, Daniel hanging back to let Jack go first up the steps to the deck by the kitchen door, but Jack looked over his shoulder and held out his hand, and Daniel took it. Together, they stomped across the deck to the back door, and finally separated inside to take their boots off. The cabin felt stiflingly warm after the intense cold outdoors. Daniel stepped to the kitchen table to unwind his muffler and toss his gloves on the table. His glasses were fogged, so he took them off too, before unzipping his coat. He felt Jack's hands on his shoulders, and turned. Jack was already down to his henley; his outer clothes on the hook by the door. The yearning, worried look in Jack's eyes made Daniel step in. Resting one hand on the back of Jack's head, twining one arm around his waist, Daniel, emboldened by what had happened outside, put his mouth to Jack's without hesitation.
Jack gasped, and kissed him back, hands tightening on the shoulders of Daniel's parka. The kiss wouldn't end; they were greedy, hungry, tasting each other, warming quickly in the warmth of the room. Daniel felt beads of sweat gather in the small of his back. He began to smile and the smile broke into the kiss. Jack leaned back, still holding him, and smiled too.
Daniel let go to take his coat off and hang it on the back of a chair. He stripped off his sweater, and wiped his glasses on his shirt and put them back on. When he turned, Jack had that frowning look again.
Jack said, "The big thing I'll worry about, going forward, is the secrecy. You'll hate it. You'll let it turn into some kind of rationalization that I'm ashamed of you, or that it means this is something I'm not serious about if I let the rules control my private life."
Daniel sucked in air through his nose. He was giddy, light-headed, the lid coming off of years of what he'd convinced himself was patient resignation but was really, he now saw, a tightly sealed pressure cooker of sheer frustration. He tried to gather his thoughts. Jack's fears deserved an answer. Jack's fears! Jack had no fears.
But from the look on his face, about this, he did.
"That's not what I'll think. I'll be thinking that someday the rules will be different. Someday we won't be a frontline team together. Maybe you'll get promoted. Maybe the program will go public and we'll get reassigned. Maybe the world will end. And until then -- I'm a carpe diem kind of guy, you know. At heart."
"If you say so," Jack said, smiling with half his mouth, and then his hands were on Daniel again, stroking, searching, touching. Daniel pulled him close, and as their torsos pressed together they stilled. Warmth soaked into Daniel from Jack's body, chest, stomach, groin. Jack was hard inside his jeans.
"God, Jack," Daniel said, stunned by the effect holding Jack close had on him, and Jack said, "I know."
They stood there for a time, wrapped tight, feeling each other breathe. Jack pulled away first, but only to lead the way to his bedroom. Daniel paused in the doorway. Jack went to the bed and started unbuttoning his shirt with one hand while he clicked on the electric blanket and turned the covers down with the other. The bed, of course, had been made up that morning with military precision; over in the spare room, Daniel's bed was messily unmade, pillows scrunched together, probably a couple of dirty socks lost at the foot and now wedged between the covers and the mattress. Daniel smiled, and he glanced around the shabby, comfortable room, realizing he had never set foot in here, this whole week. He met Jack's eyes. Jack was down to his obviously tented boxers. He was frowning again.
He came to Daniel and clasped his shoulders. "Second thoughts?" he said, and pressed in for a quick kiss that Daniel understood was meant as reassuring.
Daniel kissed back and said, "Not at all. Just distracted by the room. For a minute." Daniel grinned. Here he was. Alone with Jack. In Jack's bedroom. About to get what he had dreamed about, guiltily fantasized about, for years. Wanting to show Jack just how much he was emphatically not having second thoughts, he wrapped an arm around Jack's neck and pulled him in for another kiss, while reaching down with his free hand to find the shape of Jack's erection through thin cotton.
Jack groaned and clutched at him. Daniel was delighted that he'd apparently preserved the element of surprise. Jack was so warm through the fabric -- warm and big and eager. Daniel kissed his mouth hard, and ran the heel of his hand down Jack's erection, pressing the shaft against his belly, reaching down until his fingers touched the softer swell of Jack's balls. Suddenly impatient for skin, for the bed, for more, for everything, Daniel shifted his weight and pushed, walking Jack backwards to the bed. The kiss broke in a confused slide of wet lips as Jack sat down, an absent hand cupping his own dick, watching Daniel quickly strip. His gaze was hot.
Daniel wasn't sure what had prompted Jack to leave his own boxers on, but Daniel had no hesitation whatsoever about getting rid of his own. As quickly as possible, his own clothes were in a pile at his feet, and he moved to Jack, putting a hand on his shoulder, urging him to lie back, kissing again as he fumbled his glasses off and found the nightstand by luck.
Jack's arms were around him, and Daniel lay on him, full length, and then they were rolling awkwardly, Daniel sliding across Jack's body and turning to his side. Jack faced him.
The room was very chilly. Unwilling to let go, Daniel pushed his way under the covers, finding the electric blanket already getting warm, while still insistently pressing Jack to him. He worked his left hand between them to find Jack's dick again. Daniel gasped as Jack's hand slid down his back, cupping and then squeezing his buttock, long fingers pushing toward the sensitive cleft.
For a moment it was like a battle -- both of them on their sides, pushing in, grappling, holding, squeezing, and then they were kissing again, a relentless, eager push of tongues and lips that took their full attention and made all their other movements cease. Daniel was breathless when the kiss ended. He tugged at Jack's waistband, and released his embrace when Jack grunted in frustration and pulled back.
Freed from the pull of Jack's arms, Daniel relaxed onto his back, watching as Jack finally got rid of the last bit of clothing that was keeping them from skin-to-skin. Daniel reached for Jack's shoulder, and Jack grinned and came to him, and it didn't seem as if Daniel had lost any battle at all when Jack let his weight settle atop him.
Their groins pressing together, they shifted and hitched to get their erections parallel. Jack's face was at his cheek. They were holding each other close again, sealed together, Jack's arm around Daniel's neck.
"Shit," Daniel said, overwhelmed by the full-body sensation of warm skin against his. Jack's skin.
"Yeah," Jack said, a warm breath at his ear. "I could get off just like this. And soon. So... is this what you want? How you want it? Tell me."
"Fuck," Daniel said. They were, perhaps unintentionally, building a rhythm, pushing and rocking against each other. Jack's weight was a delicious anchor, pressing him into the mattress. He opened his thighs a little more, wanting to feel more of Jack's skin against his balls. "I just.. I don't..."
He didn't want just this, just the raw, desperate connection of frottage... He wanted.... something...
Daniel turned his head and kissed Jack's mouth again, urgently, tasting, licking. He held Jack's head while he did, letting the short silky hair slide between his fingers, feeling the big pulse in Jack's neck with the fingertips of one hand. Jack shifted to slide his hands down and under the slight arch of Daniel's lower back, wanting to touch his ass again, but Jack didn't seem to object in the least to Daniel holding his head. If anything, Jack's dick got harder as the kiss went on.
"I want so much," Daniel said, gasping, breaking the kiss. "I want... I don't know if...."
Jack closed his eyes and reached up, letting his chest rest against Daniel's, and took hold of Daniel's head to bring his lips to Daniel's ear again. "What I want is for you to do me. To fuck me. Do you do that?"
Daniel's arms tightened. The sound of Jack's voice, asking for that... Jack, the imperious, impervious colonel. Jack the badass. Jack, wanting him to...
"God, yes," he gasped. "If that's really what...."
"It's really what," Jack said, and Daniel could hear him smiling.
Daniel felt Jack's foot hook around his lower leg, and all of a sudden it was Daniel on top, and Jack was grinning up at him.
Daniel leaned up, getting some of his weight on his hands. His pulse was throbbing in his cock. Talking about this was pushing his arousal higher and higher.
"Um," Daniel said.
Jack cupped his cheek, stroking with his thumb. Daniel's eyes wanted to close at the touch, but he was equally determined to hold Jack's gaze, to immerse himself in the deep emotion he recognized in those dark eyes.
"What," Jack said softly. "Been too long? Not your thing?"
"God, no," Daniel said, shifting his weight and putting his hand over Jack's hand. He was hyper-aware of the length of Jack's body, pressed against him, pressed beneath him, their groins still straining together. He was so turned on, it was hard to speak. "I love it; it's very much my thing. I'm just... amazed at the idea of it being you. And we'll need--"
"Nightstand," Jack interrupted.
Daniel laughed. He squeezed Jack's hand against his cheek and stretched, with a burst of spangly sensation as his cock dragged against Jack's thigh and wiry hair, and managed to get to the nightstand. He opened the drawer and felt around inside. A new tube, and condoms.
Daniel said, "You were a Boy Scout, right?"
Jack chuckled, but his tone was dry. "Actually, no. Too busy with hockey and football."
Daniel chuckled. He clutched what he'd found one-handed, and set the strip of packets and the tube on the bed by Jack's thigh. Then he slid back over Jack, slowly, slowly, and Jack's hands came into his hair as he did. He shivered. He ducked his chin and pressed a kiss to Jack's breastbone, then turned his head to press another kiss to the nearest nipple, and when Jack arched at the touch of his lips, he lingered, kissing again and sucking, then sucking harder when Jack groaned. Daniel smiled. Jack was breathing deeply; Daniel could see his stomach rising and falling in the V of his ribs. He kissed his way down the faint line of hair along Jack's hard stomach, and then curled in on himself, the covers bunching around his ass. Jack's hands came to rest on his shoulders.
He wiggled Jack's legs wider, settling in, easing his weight back. He managed one quick lick to the tip of Jack's cock before he leaned up and back, settling on his heels.
Jack had hissed at that, and moved one hand to cover the end of his shaft as Daniel pulled up.
"Too much?" Daniel said.
"No, no, God, it's just. It's a lot," Jack said, looking up at him. His free hand was absently petting Daniel's thigh. His legs were spread wide, but he looked perfectly comfortable. "I'm pretty worked up, if you hadn't noticed."
Daniel grinned. Still, he felt compelled to check. "You really want to bottom. That's what you want."
"That's what I want," Jack agreed, smiling that quirky half-a-smile. It made Daniel's breath catch in his chest, made him close his eyes. He realized Jack was bending his knees. A hot wave of new arousal swept up Daniel's body, making his cock jump, curling and settling in his belly. He put a hand on Jack's knee, and picked up the lube.
Jack licked his lips as he watched. His hand tightened on Daniel's thigh, and he was touching himself, not jerking or stroking, just lightly running his fingertips over the shaft and the head. Daniel couldn't take his eyes off those familiar fingers.
He had a generous dollop of lube on his fingers, and he leaned up and slid the tube under the pillow. Supported on one hand, he found Jack's mouth again for a quick kiss.
"It's gonna be cold," he warned. The unheated room would have been like ice all morning.
"I like it cold," Jack said against his lips. "I like the contrast."
A sympathetic shiver ran over Daniel. He knelt up again, and held Jack's gaze as he went ahead and applied the cold lube to Jack's ass. He felt the muscle contract at the first touch of cold, and Jack winced in pleasure. At least Daniel assumed it was -- the expression was quite similar to Jack's pain face, but Jack was arching toward him a little. His legs fell further apart.
Daniel pressed gently with two fingers, circling the tight opening, feeling the heat of Jack's body overpower the chill of the lube. Jack was gently holding his own dick now, his hand unmoving. His other hand had loosened its grip on Daniel's leg and was resting there, warm and open. His intent gaze had acquired an inward quality and his breaths were speeding up. Daniel realized he was biting his lip and released it. Jack was so handsome. The pressure of emotion Daniel was feeling was almost unbearable. He could hardly imagine how it would feel in a few minutes.
One finger went in easily, and Jack groaned and arched strongly. His hand clawed at Daniel's leg. "God, Jack," Daniel blurted. He paused a minute, lost in the amazement of how Jack felt on the inside -- so hot and so smooth. That Jack would do this, would want this. Daniel licked his lips.
He moved his fingertip in a gentle circle, exploring, touching, and he could feel the tender channel give around it. Jack groaned again and abruptly took his hand away from his dick and flung that arm out to the side, gripping the sheet. He closed his eyes.
Daniel pulled out, slowly, slowly, and pushed back in with two fingers. The tip of Jack's cock was leaking now, and the shaft had lifted away from his stomach. Jack groaned, and Daniel said his name.
Daniel fucked him slowly, exquisitely slowly, with two fingers, all the way in and all the way out, the lube warm now and sliding easily. He let his gaze roam over Jack's body, noticing the beautiful flush that was spreading over his shoulders and neck, the arch in his spine, and finally Jack moved his hips to meet an inward push of Daniel's fingers. He ground down against Daniel's hand, and so Daniel left his hand there, pushing back instead of pulling out.
"Now," Jack rumbled. "God, now; give it to me."
Jack. The Colonel. Asking to be fucked. Wanting that from Daniel. It made Daniel dizzy. He didn't want to pull his fingers out of that gorgeous, seductive tightness. He reached across his body for the rubbers, awkwardly, and tore into one with his teeth.
At the slight sound, Jack looked up and reached for the packet, effortlessly lifting himself without using his hands. Holding Daniel's gaze, he opened up the rubber and tossed the wrapping aside. He reached for Daniel's erection, but he didn't immediately roll it on.
Instead he took his own time exploring, running careful fingers over the head, making Daniel shiver and clench all the muscles of his legs. It had been a long, long time since he'd felt anyone's touch but his own on his cock, and every nerve ending seemed to be feeling twice as much as normal. Jack stroked his fingertips around the flare, lingering underneath, setting Daniel's skin on fire. Daniel swallowed. Jack glanced up at him, and smiled a little, as if knowing what he was doing to Daniel, what he was making Daniel feel. Daniel couldn't help smiling in return, and turned his hand a little, moving his fingers inside Jack, making Jack wince again and suck in a breath.
"Jesus," Jack said. "You're just -- I thought about this lot, dreamed about it, played it out in my head, but it's just so much..."
"More," Daniel said.
"Yeah. That," Jack said, and then he quit playing and rolled the condom on to Daniel. He lay back, letting one hand stroke down Daniel's thigh, and unerringly found the lube under the pillow.
"You know how cold it'll be," he warned. "But I don't want to wait to warm it up."
"It's okay," Daniel said, a slight hitch in his voice when the chilled lube touched him. Jack twisted his palm, spreading it in one quick gesture. Daniel tried to get his breath. He leaned, grabbing for the spare pillow, and gently, gently pulled his fingers out.
"Wow," was Jack's comment.
They settled the pillow under his hips.
"On your back okay?"
"I never felt there was a wrong way to do this," Jack said pulling one knee back. Daniel, still in half-stunned state at the picture of Jack, lying back, legs open, ready to be penetrated, picked up on his cue and anchored his elbow under Jack's other knee. He shifted his weight slowly, guiding his dick to press against Jack.
"Oh yeah; oh Daniel," Jack said, gripping his arms, and tilting his hips, and Daniel was in, Jack's body tightening around him, and Jack kept urging him on. There was no resistance at all, just a gorgeous hot slide, and Daniel went with it, dropping his head and trying to breathe.
"Let go with your arm," Jack murmured, and his free leg was resting on Daniel's hip now, curving around him. "C'mere."
So Daniel did, lowering himself, curling his hips, and the slight movement that made inside Jack made him moan again. Daniel was pressed against him now, his arms taking some of his weight, and his hips wanted to move, knew how they wanted this to go. Jack was so warm, so alive, moving under him and around him.
"Jack," Daniel choked, and began stroking. Jack held him, and groaned. He was so tight, so hot inside. It was heaven.
It was too much. Daniel squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to slow down, and Jack chuckled and matched him, effortlessly reading him, synching up with Daniel's slowing strokes.
"It's so good," Daniel gasped. "Jack..."
"I know. I know." Jack's arms were around him again, holding him so tightly, and Daniel let all thought go and just felt, moving, straining, feeling enfolded by Jack, engulfed in him. They were sweating now, warm despite the cold room and the fact that they'd shoved the electric blanket away somewhere with the rest of the bedding. Jack smelled so good; his skin and sweat a rich, clean scent. Daniel gasped, and his mouth opened against skin. He tasted. He pressed his face to Jack and found his own hands. He pressed himself up, still moving.
Jack met his gaze. His face was flushed, and he looked lost in it, lost in the sex. His usually piercing, alert gaze was so soft, all the tiny muscles around his eyes relaxed, and when their eyes met, Jack smiled.
"It's so good, Daniel," he said.
"I know... I know.... I'm going come, very soon, and before I do I want to taste you. Can I pull out? So I can put your cock in my mouth?"
Jack said, "God," and his hips bucked and his legs tightened, driving Daniel further into him. Daniel shut his eyes against the unexpected, renewed slide of intense pleasure. Jack said in a strained voice, "You like that? You want me to come like that? Because that would be really really easy at this point."
"Oh, shit," Daniel said, and he put his face in Jack's neck one more time, and then he carefully raised up again, balancing on one hand to hold the edges of the condom, and he let his weight settle back on his knees, and pulled out. Jack's legs came down on either side of him, and he felt Jack's hands in his hair again.
He brushed the knuckles of one hand behind Jack's balls, smoothing and swirling the lube, and lipped Jack's cock into his mouth. Jack groaned.
The taste exploded -- pre-ejaculate, and hot skin and salt. Daniel moaned, and Jack pushed up, starting to fuck Daniel's mouth. Daniel pressed in with his knuckles, moving them gently around and against Jack's warm, loose, slippery asshole as he sucked. He let Jack set the pace and do most of the work of filling his mouth. Jack got even harder, and Daniel heard him swear. He was leaking again, the taste sharper now. Daniel found he was driving his own pelvis against the mattress, wildly stimulated, already so close to the end himself, driven there by the knowledge of Jack's pleasure.
This man. God, how he had wanted this, wanted it hopelessly, sure he would never get it, sure it was forever out of reach. Being here was like free fall. Like floating in an endless ocean.
Jack was moaning, and the pushes of his hips had gotten shorter and harder. Daniel waited, sucking, letting him be the one to move.
Jack cried out his name, and shot, stilling and holding at the top of his stroke, his hip and leg muscles clenched tight. Daniel moved both his hands to cup Jack's hips as he swallowed, feeling the delicious ripple of each ebbing pulse. Jack tasted tart and bitter and thick.
Jack relaxed all at once, his muscles letting go completely, nothing holding him up. His hand slid along Daniel's shoulder. He was still breathing hard, making a little moaning noise on each exhale. In Daniel's mouth, his dick hadn't gone down at all. Daniel shifted a knee, and the way his movement made his mouth slide around Jack's head drew a gasp from Jack. It sounded very much like the "Aht" he used to use to warn Daniel off of something.
Sensitive after, Daniel logged for future reference, and carefully pulled off, smoothly but not abruptly.
"Oh, God," Jack said, and slid his own hand to cover the head of his cock, as if protecting it from more overload of sensation. "Come on," he slurred, haphazardly petting Daniel's head. "Come on, finish, fuck me some more, it's so good..."
"Jack," Daniel said, his dick twitching against the mattress. "You sure?"
"Now, Daniel. Now is good. Come on." Jack lifted his head. He looked wrecked, ravished. He was the most beautiful thing Daniel had ever seen. He tousled Daniel's hair and reached across, bracing himself, and pulled and rolled over. Daniel saw what was coming and raised up out of the way of Jack's legs.
"More lube. Come on," Jack said, and now there was hint of military command in his voice.
Daniel could see the tube, precariously wedged between the nightstand and the mattress. He managed to get it, open it up, and spread some more of the chilly stuff over his condom, all while being extremely distracted by the glorious sight of Jack's firm naked ass, right there in front of him. He managed to brace himself on one fist and lean down.
Jack moaned as Daniel sank into him. Daniel pressed his forehead to Jack's nape. And then Jack clenched around him, and Daniel was gone. He had to move, and he did, stroking in, over and over, on the fine edge of losing all control. His orgasm swept over him in a strong, obliterating wave, and when he came to, he was spread over Jack, breathing hard, still as deep inside as he could get.
"Baby," Jack breathed, and pulled in his arm, collecting Daniel's limp fingers on his way, threading his own through them and folding them together at their side.
Daniel felt tears prickle behind his eyelids. He found he could, with great effort, turn his head enough to free his mouth.
"Love you," he murmured, and Jack squeezed his hand, hard.
They lay there for a long time, long enough for Daniel's feet to get cold and the sweat to dry to a chilly film on his lower back. Jack, he supposed, under his blanket of Daniel, was plenty warm enough. Despite the chill, Daniel was very reluctant to move.
Finally he did, though, worming a hand between them to hold on to the rubber, and carefully rolling aside. Jack was so warm inside. It was hard to let go of that, to pull away. He sat up. Objectively the room was just the same, but it seemed too bright and slightly out of perspective. As if they'd somehow fallen into a new dimension. And the room was blurry, of course. He found his glasses, put them on, and then pulled off his rubber, parking it in a wad of Kleenex on the nightstand for the moment. He glanced over his shoulder. Jack hadn't moved. He was still spread out, lying on his stomach, as still as if he were asleep. Daniel grinned.
He scooched down the bed to find the tangled covers, and smoothed the sheet and the thermal blanket and the electric blanket and the quilt over Jack, who hummed appreciatively but continued to not move a muscle.
Daniel slid under the now-organized bedcovers, beside him, and finally Jack did move, curving his back against Daniel's front, tangling their legs and drawing Daniel's arm around his waist. He sighed, long and contented. Daniel tightened his arm and pressed his lips to Jack's neck. Jack stroked a thumb along his forearm.
The room was still. The house was still. Daniel caught a whiff of the brisket, beginning to fill the kitchen with a delicious, rich scent. Jack had promised it would be ready for an early dinner. Beyond, the forest and the pond were silent too. The light was white through the dusty old curtains beyond the bed. Daniel closed his eyes. He felt so full of happiness. He had no words for this.
Jack said sleepily, "We'll have to finish the chess match, after a while."
Daniel nodded. They did have to even up Daniel's score, after all. He thought about that, sitting before the crackling fire, meeting Jack's dark and beautiful gaze over the board, seeing the white flash of his smile. Happiness surged inside him again, tightening in his chest. He said, "It can be our Christmas tradition."
Jack went still, and seemed to hold his breath.
Daniel went on, a little tentatively, "Chess at the cabin, on Christmas Day. And decadently wallowing in bed all afternoon. And brisket. Every year."
When Jack still didn't speak or react, Daniel said, "That sound good to you?"
Jack took a deep breath. "Too good. Unbelievably good. 'I'd given up on any such thing' good. It's just a little..." And he turned then, rolling inside the circle of Daniel's arms, and he put his warm sticky hand against Daniel's cheek. His heart was in his eyes. "I'm so glad, so damn glad, that I said something. I'm not used to feeling this happy. It's weird."
Daniel had to push the words out around the lump in his throat. "The good kind of weird."
"Definitely the good kind." He drew Daniel's face in and they kissed, tenderly and long. It wasn't the kind of kissing that wanted to lead to round two. It was like a greeting, like a reunion.
Daniel drew back just enough to get another look at the love in Jack's eyes. He didn't think he'd get tired of that expression for a long time. Maybe ever. "I think," he said, "that this is going to go down as my best Christmas ever. I don't think it can be topped."
Jack stroked his cheek. "Not even if I get you a pony instead of a chess set next year?"
"Not even," Daniel said, grinning. His face was starting to hurt from all the smiling. "I just, I finally feel like I've come home. Until now I, did feel like I was back, back where I belong. I felt that as soon as I met you three, before I even knew who you were. But today, I feel like I'm home. Like you're my home."
"Okay, forget the pony. You're right," Jack said, pulling him close again, a catch in his voice. "Best. Christmas. Ever."
Daniel closed his eyes, and held on tight.
End.