Title: In From the Rain
Author: Brenda
Author Page: Brenda
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Dealing with the events of Beast of Burden
Category: ER; smarm; angst. Slash tag to Beast of Burden.
Spoilers: S5, S3 and S2 spoilers. Specific mention of Gamekeeper, Dead Man Switch, Crystal Skull, Red Sky and Beast of Burden.
Timed out from the zine Pretense II.
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the authors. This story may not be posted anywhere without the consent of the authors.

I sometimes wonder what goes through George's mind as he sits at the head of the table in the Briefing Room listening to our mission reports. What does he think when we come back from a mission that, according to the MALP reports, should have been a peaceful, two-day recon, and we sit here and tell him things like 'we got trapped in a virtual reality and Daniel and I relived some of the worst moments of our lives over and over'; 'we got captured by an intergalactic bounty hunter'; Daniel disappeared while he was looking at a crystal skull'; or 'oh, we just happened to 'gate right through this world's sun, thus condemning the whole planet to destruction.'

I have to hand it to Hammond. He shows remarkable restraint sometimes. I hope this is one of those times. We undertook our last mission to try to rescue Chaka, the Unas who had kidnapped Daniel on a previous mission - and who, of course, Daniel befriended. It turned out that Unas were used as slave labor on the planet we 'gated to. No one was happy to see that, but trying to buy back Chaka was a far cry from being a party to setting an armed uprising in motion. That distinction is not lost on Hammond.

He asks a lot of tough questions, and Daniel gives a lot of equally tough answers. But even though I'm directly across from him, Daniel doesn't look at me once for support. He thinks he's shouldering this one on his own, that whatever happens on that planet is his responsibility. Think again, Doctor Jackson. It may not say colonel anywhere on my uniform, but I really am the one in charge out there. I've said no to Daniel before on missions, and I'm sure I'll say it plenty of times in the future, but I didn't say no this time. I agreed we would try to free Chaka, and I was the one who gave the go-ahead to free the other Unas as well. That makes me just as responsible for whatever happens on that planet.

Watching him look Hammond right in the eye as he delivers his report, it strikes me I never before noticed what a stubborn chin he has. I'm sure it's always been that way, but right now it seems to be his most striking feature. He's still carrying a lot of anger over the way the Unas were treated, but it's more than that. Knowing Daniel, I know he isn't having second thoughts about freeing Chaka or the rest of the Unas, but I do know he's thinking about the fact that Chaka is now leading an armed rebellion, and that lives on both sides will most likely be lost.

It's going to be a long debriefing.

And a longer night...

By the time I get through with my paperwork and go looking for Daniel I find his lab dark and deserted. I stand in the open doorway for a few moments and consider the possibilities. Well, there are really only two: his place or mine. We hadn't made any arrangements to meet at either place, but we usually drift back to mine after a mission, so that's where I'll head first. There is a niggling thought in the back of my mind that Daniel might be holed up back at his place, brooding, but as Bra'tac likes to say, I'll cross that bridge if I come to it.

***

My instincts where Daniel is concerned are usually right, and I pull my truck into the driveway beside his car with a feeling of satisfaction, glad to be home. A cold mist began coming down on the way home, and I hurry into the house, looking forward to something to warm me up...Daniel will do nicely.

The lights are on downstairs, but the upstairs is dark, and a quick search proves the house is definitely empty. Another man might be puzzled by this, but I merely sigh and head for the roof.

He's exactly where I knew he would be, sitting in one corner, legs drawn up, apparently oblivious to the cold mist settling over him like a damp, heavy blanket. I know him so well it scares me sometimes. Still, there are times Daniel can surprise me. Like on the mission when he said he wasn't going to try to talk us out of those stinkin' cages. I hadn't seen that one coming, but I probably should have. Even Daniel has his limits, and even Daniel saw the futility of trying to use reason at that point. There was a time, a long time ago, when he would have tried anyhow. But he's changed. A part of me is glad he's learned to distinguish between the kind of situation where you have a chance of talking your way out and the kind you don't; but another part of me regrets he ever had to learn that lesson. It's not a lesson a peaceful explorer should have to learn.

I drop down beside him, settling my shoulder against his. "It's too wet and too cold to be up here, y'know."

"It wasn't raining when I came up."

With an effort I bite back the phrase 'not enough sense to come in out of the rain.' He seems to sense that because he bumps his knee gently against mine.

"I was just thinking."

"How about thinking inside where it's warm and dry?" Actually, how about not thinking at all? Or better yet, how about me giving you something else to think about altogether?

His sigh creates a little cloud of fog in the night air, and it hangs there for a moment before evaporating. "I guess it is pretty stupid to sit out here in the rain, isn't it?"

"Let's just say...unproductive," I suggest and get to my feet, holding down a hand for him. A moment later I've got his cold hand in mine even though he needs no assistance as he rises effortlessly. We stand there facing each other in the dark as the cold mist becomes an even colder rain. I feel drops slip inside my collar and trickle down my back and suppress a shiver with an effort. If I'm cold, he must be freezing, but he's probably been too lost in thought to notice. The rain dims the light shining from the surrounding houses, and it's too dark for me to see his face clearly, but I've never needed to see Daniel to know exactly where he is. I know every inch of him by touch, and I can sense his mood, which is a mixture of despair and guilt. Still holding onto him, I reach out with my other hand to cup his cold jaw, and after a moment he presses his cheek into my palm. We stand there a moment in silence, then I turn and tug him after me as I head for the steps.

Once inside, I lead him upstairs and point to the bathroom. "Get out of those wet clothes before you catch pneumonia." Usually a statement like that brings rolling eyes and an exasperated "Jaa-ck" at the very least. This time he simply nods and steps into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. I stand for a moment contemplating the closed door, but in the end turn away and head back downstairs. There's a time and a place, and this is neither. Besides, I have a plan.

The shower is off, and I can hear him moving around in the bathroom when I come back upstairs. By the time he walks into the bedroom, a towel around his narrow hips, his hair sticking up in damp spikes, I'm already under the covers, sitting back against the headboard, mug in hand. I see his nose twitch as he walks in and then the little, grateful smile that touches his lips as he sees the mug of hot cocoa on the stand at his side of the bed. The towel puddles around his feet and he slides into bed beside me.

I watch as he picks up the cup and takes a drink, eyes sliding shut in what I can only describe as sheer bliss. I've seen this boy eat candy bars, and it's almost obscene the way he reacts to chocolate. Then he settles the cup carefully back on the stand and turns to me, leans over, and slowly fits his mouth to mine, delivering a long, deep, mind-dissolving kiss with a tongue still coated with melted marshmallow. Chocolate flavored archaeologist. Now, there's a reason to go obscene.

When we finally break apart, both a little breathless, he sinks back against the headboard beside me, his warm skin pressed against mine all the way down the side of my body. "Thank you," he sighs happily, and picks up the cup again, eyes closing as he drinks the dark, rich liquid.

I watch him in amusement, then reach under the covers and pat his bare thigh. "You really are a cheap date," I say in real admiration. "If I'd known you could be had for a cup of cocoa --"

He splutters into his cup and comes up with a white mustache from the melted marshmallow. "Bastard!" he says indignantly, but his eyes are shining and he's laughing. As I watch his laughter turns into a fit of irrepressible giggles, and I barely rescue the cup in time, setting it aside as he collapses against me, whooping for breath. I wrap my arms around him and join in. I'd known he needed this release, but I hadn't realized I needed it too. God, it had been one bitch of a day. It's never fun being caged, chained and tortured; but it's a thousand times worse when the person you love more than anything in the world is going through the same thing, and you're helpless to put a stop to it. All I'd wanted to do for hours was hold him in my arms, reassuring myself he's safe, and that's what I do now, laughing helplessly right along with him.

When our fits of hysteria finally runs their course, we're left wiping our eyes and trying to catch our breath. God, that felt good. Daniel's head is resting against my chest, and he's running a hand up and down all of my bare skin within his reach, his touch leaving a trail of warm electricity behind. I press a kiss into his damp hair, and he squeezes my thigh gently. If I needed a little reassurance that he's safe in my arms, I suppose he did too. He didn't have much fun watching me being tortured either, especially when he was blaming himself for getting us into the mess in the first place.

After a moment he twists around, his eyes a shimmering blue surrounded by damply spiked lashes. The look he gives me is so intense and so filled with feeling I think my heart actually twists in my chest. It shouldn't, I suppose, but it still takes me by surprise when I realize how much I mean to him. "Thank you," he whispers.

I'm caught and held by his gaze, as helpless as a deer caught in headlights. "For what?" I whisper back.

Slipping a hand around to cup the back of my head, he brings me forward until our lips touch. "Everything." By the time he finishes delivering his thanks, I'm the one wearing the sticky marshmallow mustache, and he's licking it off my lip with deliberately provocative flicks of his tongue. I wait until he seems satisfied he's gotten it all, then make my move. A moment later I'm gazing down on a very contented face and two brightly expectant blue eyes. Guess he's just where he wants to be. Makes two of us. "You waiting for an invitation?" he asks, giving me 'that look' from under his lashes. He swears he doesn't know what 'look' I'm talking about, but I know he damn well does because he has reserved that look for me and me alone.

In response I lean down to steal another chocolate-flavored kiss. "Mmmm...taste test," I murmur.

Two eyebrows shoot up. "Oh, really?" He shifts under me, nudging me with something hard and insistent. "For the main course," he says in a perfect French accent, "may I recommend the archaeologist...well done."

"Ohh, I think the archaeologist is going to be very well done," I promise huskily and swoop in.

It's dark now, and I can hear the steady patter of rain against the window and roof. But I'm neither wet nor cold because I've got a living, breathing blanket wrapped around me. I feel Daniel's steady breaths against my chest where he's pressed up against me, but sleep doesn't come for me yet. I just want to lie here for a while and think about my good fortune and the turn my life has taken since I came back from Abydos after that second mission.

I look down at the peaceful face at the man who is responsible for most of my good fortune and realize I'm probably wearing a pretty smug smile right now. And why not? Who has a better right? Doctor Daniel Jackson: brains, beauty, honor and courage all wrapped up in one long-legged head-turning package, and he's all mine. How the hell did I get so lucky? Of course, according to Daniel, he's the lucky one. I'm happy he thinks that. I hope he continues to feel that way for the rest of our lives.

I glide my hand lightly up and down his back, and he stirs against me, muttering something under his breath. My multi-talented linguist can even dream in different languages. I press a kiss into his hair, shushing him, and feel a sleepy nuzzle against my chest. "Why aren't you asleep?"

"Just thinking," I reply, echoing his reply from earlier.

He lifts his head. It's too dark to see his expression, but his mouth is sweet and soft as he unerringly finds my lips. "Time to come in out of the rain, Colonel," he whispers, and tightens his arm around me before settling back down into his favorite sleeping position.

Outside the cold rain beats against the window, but Daniel brought me in from the rain a long time ago. I close my eyes and sleep.

~fin~