Title: In Dreams
Date: March 18, 2001
Author: JayEm
Email: Jay_Em5@yahoo.com
Status: Complete
Rating: PG13
Category: Slash
Disclaimer: Characters belong to each other ~ but MGM has dibs.
Spoilers: Beneath the Surface
Summary: Dreams are funny things....
Notes: Another birthday fic for Lori, bless her. This is the first bunny to
hop into my brain in ages while I've been trying to be a good girl and work
on the big gen fic. Not part of Ali's and Phee's first kiss challenge, but
it rather fits that category...

In Dreams
By JayEm

I dreamed about mining...

Sure I did.

About mining a certain set of tonsils by way of two very tempting lips belonging to a man I barely knew and hardly liked while awake. I may have remembered feelings about ‘Thera’, but the pure ache I felt concerning ‘Carlin’ was a completely different variety of emotion.

In my dreams he was hot and passionate and my body would wake trembling with the need to touch his smooth skin, ease that frown of concern between his eyes and make him smile. I remembered him smiling, and I knew I’d never seen him do it in that underground slave pit. I remembered his eyes conveying so much emotion, looking at me in love and concern, looking lost, looking cold.... but always looking at me. I could almost remember the feel of him, sobbing against my arm in pain that brought me upright and had me heading toward his cot down the next row before I even realized it.
I dreamed of days in sunshine, with green trees all around. ‘Carlin’ wearing some goofy hat that should have looked silly on him, but didn’t. I remembered fear in those eyes, and strength, and sadness in cold and wet places.

I think it was those dreams that convinced me he must have been telling the truth, that we didn’t belong in that place.

We’ve been back less than a week, all of us exhausted, malnourished, and aching from weeks of working in that underground complex as reprogrammed slaves to the citizens of the dome. Daniel’s lip is almost healed, I’m still not so sure I didn’t do that to him, though he says I didn’t.

Administrator Calder almost succeeded in making us disappear - from ourselves as well as the SGC and Earth - almost made us believe we were strangers to each other and happy to bow down to the system we were ‘honored to serve.’ Calder didn’t count on Daniel though.

Even under the influence of Carlin’s rough-edged personality, Daniel was still asking questions and dreaming bits of truth that finally sunk in with all of us.

He said he dreamed about the Stargate.

And me.

Just the thought has me grinning even as I glance around the cafeteria to see if anyone noticed. Not that it matters. Hell, we’ve just come back from the dead - so to speak - a little silly grin isn’t going to raise many eyebrows.

Dreams are funny things. Unlocking secrets we hide even from ourselves. I’d always felt pretty damn close to Daniel, a closeness I never question since it came so easy. I think a part of me knew I needed a friend like him. Or, closer to truth, I needed Daniel as a friend. No substitutes need apply. As if there ever could be a substitute for Daniel, he’s one of a kind and I’m so damn glad of it. Don’t think the world, or I, could handle it if there were.

Anyway, secrets. I’m good at hiding them. Years of training and survival instinct have made me that way. Exactly four years of repression taught me to hide the biggest secret of all....

I love Daniel.

Always have, even when it was hidden under layers of confused friendship that never seemed to want to stay inside lines I’d always thought of as socially acceptable. Not that I’m a prude or anything, but like I’ve said before - I like women. Still do. Just... I like Daniel more.

Most.

Best.

Truly, madly, deeply and all the other clichéd lines in the songs I’ve heard all my life and only barely began to believe with Sara. Wasn’t her fault. Time was against us for the very beginning, time to talk, time to love, time to just be together without the great wall of duty between us. My fault, just like Charlie was my fault. A stupid accident one moment of clear thought could have prevented if I hadn’t been so damn exhausted from the job. I’ve never forgiven myself, probably never will. Like I told Daniel his first night back from Abydos - sometimes I can forget.

And those times let me believe I can be happy again.

With Daniel.

Fraiser’s springing us tonight. I’m way past ready to get out of this mountain, to go home. I’ve asked Daniel to stay over, told him I was still feeling out of sorts and made him promise not to tell the Doc. So he’s coming over thinking I need a babysitter, and I have nefarious plans of the seduction kind.

Got to take it easy though, take it slow.

God knows, it took me long enough to finally clue in on this undercurrent running between us, last thing I want to do is spook him.

I think I’m sure he feels the same way. I think. I can’t be wrong about this; he has to feel it too. Part of me believes he’s been feeling it almost from the beginning, part of me - the part that so recently screwed up so royally - isn’t so sure I haven’t already blown any chance I ever had to hell and gone on the strength of a recent admission that was supposed to have stayed in one room but seems to have taken on a life of its own. I care more than I should. Hell, I care about all my team more than I should and if Hammond weren’t the kick-ass commander he is SG1 would have been split up a long time ago.
We work - when we aren’t ripping each other’s hearts out - and even then we still do. It’s the passion that makes us the best, makes go that extra distance, see that extra option, and has saved our collective butts too many times to count.

We hit the roughest kind of patch after I got back from Edora, things got all jumbled up and we still haven’t quite got them straightened out. But we will. Carter’s made her wishes plain, I’m the Colonel and she’s the Major and never the twain shall meet - and I have to admit I’m damn glad she’s been way smarter than me about it all.

Especially after those dreams.

We’re big kids now, and we don’t need to play games.

Well, maybe some games. Like ‘pin down the archaeologist and see if he pouts’. Daniel pouts so nicely. And when he does I learn a lot about what’s going on behind his eyes if he’s playing ‘let’s not look at Jack so he can’t read my mind’.

This could be fun.

~*~

Oh, God, we are *so* playing ‘not look.’ He’s getting very intimately acquainted with my wallpaper - I think I’m jealous. I ask him something, he looks over my shoulder; I duck to one side to try to meet his eyes and he starts it over the other shoulder.
Slow down and give me a clue here, Daniel. Guess it’s time to do some pinning.

“So, Daniel...?”

Left shoulder look, questioning eyebrow.

“About those dreams we had....”

Right shoulder look and - there it is - a huge thoughtful pout.

Pool of water, my ass.

“Wha - what about them, Jack?”

Evasive maneuvers, too. This could get interesting.

I shrug the right shoulder, long as he’s looking that way I might as well give him something to see besides the architecture.

“Just wondering if there was more to it than what you told us back there?”

Humongous pout and a pull on his beer. He may not like beer much, but even he has to admit it has certain diversionary qualities that can come in handy when you’re avoiding a subject. He’s handling that bottle like a pro.

“Not...really...”

Oh, I so own your ass now, Daniel. Figuratively speaking - hopefully literally comes later.
I decide a little direct action might be in order at this point and get up to sit sideways facing him on the couch, letting my arm sort of rest along the back just above his shoulder.

“Then what? Really?”

He shrugs the shoulder next to my hand, bringing the two immovable objects into contact with a surge of irresistible force I can feel right down my toes.

Holy shit....

He meets my eyes then...and I know.

Not alone in this, not any more. Still...need to take it slow. I’m sure, just need to make him believe it.

I let my hand trace the bones beneath my hand, feels good.

“Jack...?”

His voice is both question and answer, but I need to hear him say it almost as much as I know he needs to hear it from me.

Leaning in just a bit to skirt the edges of his personal space, close enough to test my welcome, far enough away to back up off if he needs me to, I swallow hard and jump on in.

“I dreamed about you.”

His eyes start to slide off to my shoulder region, but he stops himself. I suddenly find myself looking truth in the eye and sighing at what I find. He does feel it, he is afraid, he did hear the rumors, and he got used to the idea that anything happening between the two of us was no longer a possibility in his projected future. Damn.

How the hell can I fix this?

Does he even want me to try?

He licks his lips nervously, and his shoulder is trembling where I’m still rubbing at it.

“Jack, I...”

I stop the rubbing and move my hand safely back onto the furniture. “Daniel, please...there’s so much I need to....”

He shakes his head then, putting his beer bottle down on the coffee table before shifting around on the couch to put his hand on top of mine. “Jack, I...dreamed about you, too.”
I’m still winding up for my big apology slash seduction slash shameless begging so I almost miss his quiet admission. Takes a couple eternal heartbeats but it finally sinks in.

“You did?” Okay, I admit it, I’m grinning like a fool now.

Must be a good look for me, because he’s smiling too - Daniel doesn’t grin much, not yet anyway; that’s number 22 on my agenda for the rest of our lives. Now that I can start thinking there’s going to be one of those. I want it to be ‘our’...big O, big U, big R.

“Yeah....wasn’t the first time...”

Oh, now that had to be hard. It strikes me it isn’t fair for him to be the only one putting things out on the table this way. It was my seduction plan after all.

I let my hand slide around his and take his fingers between mine, interlacing my bigger, broader - I admit it - older and rougher fingers slide in between his. He’s got great hands, I’d say almost delicate if he hadn’t so recently popped me in the face with them. Looks are definitely deceiving where Daniel’s concerned. Hidden talents out his cute little wazoo, that’s my Daniel.

Or is he? My Daniel, I mean?

“Do you want it to be the last time?” Crap, that wasn’t what I meant to say. “I mean - I don’t want to be. I mean....”

Well, fuck, Jack, what do you mean?

I realize he’s shaking, this time with soft laughter, and figure what the hell? If he’s not running yet...

I kiss him.

Just a tentative hello to start, he is the A-number one meeter and greeter of the galaxy after all. He replies in kind, soft hello, feeling out the territory, and Jesus does he know how to feel it out. I feel pretty welcome so I notch it up a bit to the ‘how the hell are you stage’ and he lets me know he’s doing pretty damn well, thanks so much for asking.

Oh, yeah, real communication going on here now.

Before long we’re doing a full body press, with arms and tongues, and I’m wondering when we’re going to hit the ‘do you put out on the first date or not’ stage. He kind of settles that for me by backing off, sort of, with a last brush of his lips against mine.

“Jack....are you sure?”

Well, hello....

He wants it, wants me, but he’s still not sure of me. Can’t say as I can blame him.
“Daniel, I may not be sure about a lot of things anymore, but I love you. That’s a non-negotiable fact.”

He’s smiling at me, his lips bright and full from my kisses, and I can see him weighing the reality against the hurt of the past few months...and letting it go. His smile brightens and his hand wanders up to stroke my cheek, causing more of those sparks I’m really looking forward to getting used to. Daniel’s always been a pretty sensual guy, very tactile, I just never imagined how much he could communicate in a single touch.

Love, trust, reassurance, desire....it’s all there. It’s all mine. Just like I’m his. No more doubts, no more questions, just a world of mutual discovery stretching ahead of us in a swell of hope and love that brings tears to my eyes.

“God, I love you....” I’m whispering it like I’ve just discovered the meaning of life, guess I have, and it’s him. Him and me and everything the two of us together can make of it.

And isn’t that one hell of a discovery to make out of dreams?

Dreams really are funny things.

*fin*