Title: On a Tangent
Author: Brenda
Author Page: Brenda
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Dealing with the after-effects of Tangent
Category: ER; smarm; angst.  Slash tag to Tangent.
Spoilers: Set after S4 episode, Tangent. Specific mention of First Ones, Small Victories, Shades of Grey and Crystal Skull
Timed out from the zine, Pretense I.
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 can't get warm. I don't care how many damned blankets Fraiser wraps around me I can't get rid of the permafrost that has seeped into my bones. The only thing that has come anywhere close to warming me was the look on Daniel's face when he saw I was alive.

I sigh and shut my eyes, feeling a tingle of heat spreading through me at the memory. The very thought of it relaxes my tensed muscles, takes the edge off the chill that has sought out every part of my body and eases the tremors that periodically shoot through me. That's better. That's all I need to do: remember the look on his face and in his eyes when he rushed over to me on Jacob's ship and yanked that mask off me. My own private version of global warming.

"Colonel?"

I blink my eyes open and find Fraiser standing in front of me once again, radiating her own brand of concern. "Are you all right?"

I'm better than all right, Doc. Because I've got a sure-fire cure for what ails me. In an hour I'm going to be home, in bed, with a relieved-but-worried-out-of-his-mind archaeologist wrapped around me. My own living, breathing blanket. I shrug the infirmary blankets off and swing around so I'm perched on the edge of the bed, ready to stand. "I'm fine, Doc. Ready to go home and have a hot shower." Go on, I dare her, tell me I can't. Try telling me you're keeping me overnight. I'll just sit back and watch you deal with Daniel. He's just out of my field of vision over there along the wall, but I can see the tips of his boots if I turn my head just so. Those boots haven't been still since I was brought in here. They've been bouncing, pacing, tapping, scuffing, and thumping Fraiser's nice, clean infirmary walls, probably leaving little marks behind. And...they're making their way over here right now.

"Janet?" Daniel comes to a halt beside the bed, arms wrapped firmly around his chest as he lets his eyes flick from me to Fraiser and back again. "Is he okay? Teal'c's already gone."

"Teal'c has a goa'uld larvae to help him recover," Fraiser reminds him dryly.

Ah, but I've got an archaeologist. I give Daniel a long look from under my lashes - just to prove I can do it too - and he quickly looks down, biting his lip, but not before I see the bit of color I brought to his cheeks.

"I feel fine," I tell her firmly. "I'm just a little…cold. I can take care of that at home." Boy, can I ever.

Fraiser taps her pen against the chart, obviously reluctant to let me go without a fight but unable to come up with a good reason to keep me. "Your vitals are back to normal," she allows somewhat grudgingly. "So there's really no reason to --"

"See you around, Doc. It's been a pleasure as always." I'm on my feet and heading for the door before she can finish, Daniel glued to my side. We don't say anything as we stride down the corridor, heading for the elevator to take us topside. I'm cold and tired and still a little wired from my too-damned-near-death experience in that glider, but I can almost feel the anxiety and nervous tension radiating off Daniel in waves. He had a long time to think about what was happening to me out there in space. A long time to think about the possibility it may not have a happy ending. Damn. I briefly consider hauling him into a convenient storage closet for a quick, reassuring grope but dismiss the idea almost immediately. I know what we both need, and it's not a quick grope.

I start shivering as soon as we hit the night air. It's not that cold, but cool enough to set me off again. I feel fingers wrap themselves firmly around my arm and I'm practically propelled across the parking lot to my truck. Before I know it I'm settled in the passenger seat, Daniel is tearing out of the parking lot, and the heat is on full blast. Oh god that feels good. It takes a while to permeate my chilled bones, but when it finally does I sigh in relief and finally turn to look at Daniel. His profile is set in a tight mask, and his shoulders and spine are stiff with tension. I want to put a hand on his thigh and give him a little pat, but at the rate of speed he's driving I don’t think we'd survive the plunge off the road.

I settle for a soft, "Hey."

Some of the stiffness drains from his shoulders. "Hey," he replies, his voice equally soft. I’m happy to feel the truck slow down a bit, and he takes his eyes off the road long enough to give me a quick, assessing look. "Are you warm enough?"

"I'm fine." Now that I have his attention and we're traveling at a more reasonable rate of speed I do move my hand to his thigh and rub little soothing circles. I feel his muscles begin to relax under my touch and keep my hand there the whole drive home.

***

Home. I almost groan in relief. Again I'm hustled inside and am up the stairs and in the bathroom before my frozen brain realizes it. I can admit now what I wouldn't admit to Fraiser. I'm damned cold. I was okay in the truck with the heat on full blast, but as soon as I left that hot cocoon of air - Daniel must have sweated clear through his clothes - I started shivering again. I blink a little dazedly and realize the bathroom is filling with steam. Blessed, blessed steam. Gentle hands are efficiently pulling my clothes off, maneuvering my leaden limbs. "I'm going to get you under the shower, Jack." Daniel's breath is hot in my ear. "And I’m going to get you something hot to drink and get the bed ready.

Before I can say, 'Thank you' or 'Stay' or 'Fuck me senseless,' I'm under a gushing spray of hot water. I almost cry in relief. Oh god. Hot, hot, hot. More, more, more. I tilt my head, letting it hit me in the face, then turn around and get a hot blast on my shoulders, and then turn back again so it can hit me full force in the chest. Oh yes! I feel like a snowman melting in the sun. The cold seeps slowly from my bones, washing down the drain.

I have no idea how long I stand under the hot spray, but I finally feel recovered enough to reach out and turn the spigot to stop it. Almost immediately the shower curtain is pushed aside and I feel myself wrapped in a big, fluffy - warm! - towel. Even better, I'm wrapped in a warm - naked - archaeologist. I simply stand there, warm for the first time in what feels like days, drained, glowing, skin red from the time I spent under the hot water, while he wraps me in the towel, carefully patting every wet inch of me dry. I didn't get to be a colonel in the USAF by being a passive sort of guy, but right now I'm quite happy to be passive and submissive and let Daniel take charge. Somewhere along the way my eyes have drifted shut, and I feel a gentle kiss on my lids. "Bed," is a seductive whisper in my ear, and I willingly allow him to bundle me off to the bedroom. Take me, I'm yours.

The sheets are heated. God bless America he dragged out the electric blanket which we never use because we use each other, and toasted the sheets. I moan my appreciation as he slides me into the warm bed, then grab his arm before he thinks he's going anywhere. I realize I needn't have worried because he's in bed with me like a flash, wrapping strong arms and long legs around me, a living, breathing Daniel Jackson blanket.

The temptation to lose myself in this cocoon of warmth is almost overpowering; I'm finally warm, and thanks to that extended hot shower my muscles are like jelly. But I can feel the tension thrumming through Daniel with each breath. Even if I weren't so attuned to the guy I can practically read his mind at times, the hot poker insistently nudging my thigh would give me a clue. He's nuzzling my neck, and his hands are wandering over my upper body, taking inventory…fingers, arms, nipples, chest hair - all here, Danny. Gently I capture his head and hold it still. The raw need in his eyes almost takes my breath away.

"Come on, Daniel," I whisper and wriggle suggestively against him in case he doesn't get the message. I don't have to worry about that. Message received and understood. In the next moment he's on me, swooping down to take my mouth in a fierce, searing kiss. When he finally releases me we're both gasping for breath, but then he's back for more, the want and need still raging through him. He's thrusting against me, and our cocks clash, then find that perfect, driving rhythm that this time is a little more urgent, the desperation fueled by a need for reassurance.

I love to watch him when he's like this. I don't mean the desperation - god, I'd do anything to take those shadows from his eyes - but this edge of wildness that touches him sometimes. I can drive him wild by teasing him, but there's a part of me that loves it when he takes charge, when he sets the pace and drives us hell-bent for a climax that tears us apart. And, yes, there's a part of me that is struck dumb with wonder that this guy loves me so much that losing me would tear him up like this.

A wave of protectiveness washes through me and I wrap my arms around him tightly as he thrusts faster and faster, harder and harder. I come up to meet him, urging him on, whispering things to him that come from a part of me only he has ever touched. I feel organism rip through him, hear his choked sob muffled in my neck, and a moment later I follow, my exhausted, recovering body not quite up to the sharp, almost painful climax that tore through him. He collapses onto my chest, then tries to roll off so he doesn't squash me. I allow it, but only because I wrap my arms and legs around him and follow him to his side. His face is buried in my neck and I can both hear and feel his uneven gasps for breath. He's shaking harder than I was when I got out of that damned glider, and I run my hands down his arm, his back, his thighs, calming him, loving the feel of his sweat-slickened skin, drawing in the scent of him.

Eventually his breathing evens out, and I feel his hands sliding gently over my ribs. I pull back just a little and he raises his head from its haven. The shadows aren't quite gone, but they aren't as deep, I see with relief. His eyes are a little heavy, and his face has that sweet, dopey look it gets after we've made love. I drop a kiss between his eyes. "Better?" I murmur.

He sighs deeply. "Yeah. I needed that."

"So did I," I assure him.

His eyes are locked to my face, and his fingers keep gliding over my skin, taking inventory again. "I thought..." His voice cracks and he blinks hard a few times, then lowers his eyes. "I was afraid..."

"I know." Firmly, but gently, I press his head back down so it's tucked under my chin. "But it didn't happen. I'm fine."

I feel him draw in a deep, shaky breath, then smile as a wet tongue begins a lazy exploration of my neck. "I know. But it was close."

"Yes, it was," I agree quietly. "But we've done close before, and we'll probably do it again."

The one thing we've always been with each other in our relationship is honest, and with our jobs we've also tried to be realistic, but I realize this might be a little too much honesty too soon. He stiffens in my arms, and I hear a muttered word that most definitely isn't English. "What was that?" I ask mildly.

"I said..." He lifts his head, and I get a good, close-up look at a pair of stormy blue eyes. "Some days I wish you were anything but a colonel in the US fucking Air Force," he says distinctly, each word bitten off with precision.

I regard him calmly, unsurprised by the outburst, and begin slowly combing my fingers through his hair. This comes up occasionally, but is reserved only for those times when I'm thoughtless enough to get myself into some kind of danger without taking him along for the ride. There was a spectacular and never-to-be-forgotten little blow-up after the undercover ops I did for Thor and the Tollan, and another, even worse, after the submarine incident with those damned replicators. "I know," I tell him quietly, gently coaxing short tufts of brown hair in all directions. He just looks so darned cute this way.

The storm in his eyes intensifies. "I'm serious, Jack."

I sigh. "I know you are, Daniel, but the fact is, I am a colonel in the US fucking Air Force. Besides..." I slip my hand behind his head and bring him closer so I can nuzzle the side of his mouth. "You don't have to be a soldier to have close calls. Such as...getting yourself kidnapped by an Unas, or having your brain melted by a ribbon device, or getting knocked out of phase by a crystal skull, or getting zapped to an alternate reality or --"

"Okay, okay, I get the message," he interrupts hastily. Yeah, I thought he might. The fact is, I use the same argument every time this comes up, and every time it works. Daniel is the smartest guy I know, and I've seen him bury other smart people with a few well-chosen words. But his brain kind of goes into shut-down mode when it comes to the aftermath of these kinds of close calls. He doesn't think; he feels. Again, when I remember this is all for me, it kind of takes my breath away.

He pulls back and gives me a long look. I know how scared he was; believe me, I've been there, done that, bought enough tee-shirts to open a store. But we do what we do, and since neither one of us would change that for anything, we have to move past the bad times and be grateful we're here, alive - and together. Like this.

A soft sigh escapes his lips, brushing my skin like a touch of velvet, and he leans in, fits his lips to mine, and... Oh, sweet...

When I'm allowed to breathe again I find myself staring into a pair of soft, deeply contented blue eyes. "Just for the record," he whispers, "I wouldn't have you be anything else...flyboy."

"And I wouldn't have you be anything else..." I place a kiss on each eyelid. "Geekboy."

I hear a sputter of laughter as he once again wraps himself around me, pressing my head down to rest against his chest. "Are you warm now?" he murmurs, sliding a hand up and down my back.

"Never been warmer," I assure him. Never been happier. My eyes drift shut as Daniel's hand continues its slow, steady caress. I feel a kiss pressed against my temple, and I fall asleep, surrounded by warmth and Daniel.

~fin~