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brainofckAnd now for the attack of the post-partum hormones. :)
Title: Naptime
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
muck_a_luck, posting in brainofck
Pairing: Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill
Rating: G
Summary: Jack remembers.
Words: 317
Disclaimer: If anybody is planning a script like this for SG-1, I'm certainly not going to claim any rights to it. However, I'd be delighted to work in a co-writing/consulting/first-reader/advisory-type capacity, with my fee to be negotiated at that time. :D
The Matrix: This one is Parents. The Matrix is located here.
Archive rights: Absolutely none. My journals only.muck_a_luck and brainofck.
His solemn eyes were the darkest slate grey and Jack was drowning in them all over again. After hours of fussing and diapers and worrying they had come to a quiet moment, all of them, Charlie loosely swaddled in a crib blanket, Jack wrapped around him, and Sara pressed up behind and Jack couldn't make his eyes close.
He knew Charlie was just another baby, two weeks old, with a smushed nose and flailing arms. His little mouth was so expressive, making little feed-me faces, his tongue licking in and out, sometimes pursing into little kissy lips, sometimes relaxing into a mysterious sweet smile that was a harbinger of laughter to come.
But the depth of those eyes. Jack was sure that if he only knew how to ask, the answer to every mystery of the universe was hidden somewhere behind those serious, quiet pools of grey.
The jagged edges of sarcophagus withdrawal had been softened by Valium, but Jack knew this was a memory, not a dream. He hadn't thought of Charlie like this in years. In his head, Charlie was always ten years old, and almost always dead.
This was Charlie, alive and tiny and trusting and everything that was good and difficult. This was Jack, reduced from combat veteran, elevated from sometime assassin, just another inexperienced parent facing the wonder of new life and wondering how he ever came to deserve this privilege and responsibility.
Because this was a memory, he knew that the too pointy chin digging into his shoulder and the warm moist breath on his ear should be Sara. But he knew it was Daniel with so much certainty that he didn't even bother to look around, just drew his son into his arms and leaned back into the warm strength of the body behind him.
"He's so beautiful," came the whispered words from the past. But the voice wasn't Sara's.
Title: Naptime
Author:
muck_a_luck, posting in brainofckPairing: Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill
Rating: G
Summary: Jack remembers.
Words: 317
Disclaimer: If anybody is planning a script like this for SG-1, I'm certainly not going to claim any rights to it. However, I'd be delighted to work in a co-writing/consulting/first-reader/advisory-type capacity, with my fee to be negotiated at that time. :D
The Matrix: This one is Parents. The Matrix is located here.
Archive rights: Absolutely none. My journals only.
muck_a_luck and brainofck.His solemn eyes were the darkest slate grey and Jack was drowning in them all over again. After hours of fussing and diapers and worrying they had come to a quiet moment, all of them, Charlie loosely swaddled in a crib blanket, Jack wrapped around him, and Sara pressed up behind and Jack couldn't make his eyes close.
He knew Charlie was just another baby, two weeks old, with a smushed nose and flailing arms. His little mouth was so expressive, making little feed-me faces, his tongue licking in and out, sometimes pursing into little kissy lips, sometimes relaxing into a mysterious sweet smile that was a harbinger of laughter to come.
But the depth of those eyes. Jack was sure that if he only knew how to ask, the answer to every mystery of the universe was hidden somewhere behind those serious, quiet pools of grey.
The jagged edges of sarcophagus withdrawal had been softened by Valium, but Jack knew this was a memory, not a dream. He hadn't thought of Charlie like this in years. In his head, Charlie was always ten years old, and almost always dead.
This was Charlie, alive and tiny and trusting and everything that was good and difficult. This was Jack, reduced from combat veteran, elevated from sometime assassin, just another inexperienced parent facing the wonder of new life and wondering how he ever came to deserve this privilege and responsibility.
Because this was a memory, he knew that the too pointy chin digging into his shoulder and the warm moist breath on his ear should be Sara. But he knew it was Daniel with so much certainty that he didn't even bother to look around, just drew his son into his arms and leaned back into the warm strength of the body behind him.
"He's so beautiful," came the whispered words from the past. But the voice wasn't Sara's.
no subject
Date: 2006-06-12 08:21 am (UTC)