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brainofckTitle: Summer Vacation: The There and Back Ending
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: NC-17
Summary: Jack travels back in time and interrupts the summer vacation of a recently dissertated Daniel Jackson, PhD, PhD.
Content/warnings: French poetry? Is that a warning?
Words: 1432 words
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
Archive rights: Absolutely none. My journals only.muck_a_luck and brainofck
The Matrix: Summer. The Matrix is located here.
Beta:zats_clear
Back to Part 1
P5X-432 never looked so good.
His sudden reappearance drew P-90 and staff weapon to him, but he wasn't waiting around for social pleasantries.
"Okay, kids, we're outta here. Everybody back away from the monument as fast as possible. Daniel, dial the Gate."
He could see the questions in Carter's eyes and the shock on Daniel's face, but they did exactly what he said.
General Hammond was at the bottom of the ramp when they came through.
"Sir, I strongly recommend that no one else be allowed to gate to P5X-432 until we can send remote demolitions in there to destroy that thing.
"What thing?" the general asked in confusion.
"An obelisk in one of the rooms of the complex appears to be similar in origin to Thor's Hammer," Teal'c supplied. "When O'Neill stepped near it, he was apparently teleported away, only to be returned a few moments later. Colonel O'Neill has not yet explained his disappearance."
"Colonel?"
"Sir, trust me, that thing is the most dangerous object we have ever encountered. We need to get rid of it now before anyone else comes in contact with it."
"I'm afraid I need a better explanation than that before I can authorize what you are asking. Thor's Hammer was a great loss."
"Could we?" Jack asked, gesturing up the stairs.
"So you convinced him?" Daniel asked when Jack finally appeared at his truck hours later. Daniel should have either been home by now, or busily doing whatever Daniel did in his lab and office when normal people went home.
"No time-travelling Kinsey. No presidency-wishing Kinsey. No Universe-Converted-to-Christianity-and-I'm-Your-Immortal-and-All-Powerful-Sunday-School-Teacher Kinsey."
"Ew. Yes, I see how the scenarios just get worse and worse the more you think about them," Daniel said, scrunching up his nose. He hopped down from where he was sitting on the hood of Jack's truck.
"We need to talk," said Daniel predictably. Jack knew he should have just stayed in quarters. He sighed and unlocked the doors. Daniel climbed into the passenger seat without invitation.
It was a quiet ride home. Daniel understood Jack's lessons about surveillance. The truck wasn't private. The only place they could assume true privacy was Jack's house, under the protection of Thor's little present.
It was even a relatively quiet arrival. Jack hung up his coat and walked into the kitchen to find them a couple of beers. Daniel went into the living room and stood looking out the window into the mid-morning light. Oh, the joys of working for the SGC. Gate travel and normal circadian rhythms didn't mix.
Jack wondered if he should even drink the beer. He was exhausted. With his adventure to Daniel's twentieth birthday party, Jack hadn't slept in nearly forty-eight hours. His head hurt. His body was starting to protest the lack of sleep. And he still had this 'talk' to get through with Daniel. It was either beer or coffee, and Jack didn't want caffeine in his system right now.
He put Daniel's bottle on the side table, right next to the well-worn copy of Rimbaud's Poesies that had appeared from nowhere. Jack resisted the urge to touch it and feel the heat of sun on sand. Instead, he sat down and settled into the corner of the couch.
Daniel allowed him one swallow of his beer before he started.
"You know, there were a lot of things you could have said to me," Daniel said.
"Like what?" Jack asked.
"Like – Sha'uri? Like – Apophis? Like – oh, just think of a few!" Daniel was suddenly shouting.
Okay. That hadn't been the 'talk' Jack was expecting. What the hell? Did Daniel never listen to the time-travel blahblahblah?!
"Like – Iraq?!" Jack yelled back, surprise and fatigue cracking what was left of his cool. "Like – Charlie?!"
Daniel's mouth fell open, then snapped shut. He looked like someone had hit him.
Jack squeezed his eyes closed and tried to start over.
"Look. There was a little voice in the back of my head I like to call 'Carter' telling me to get my ass out of there as fast as possible before I totally screwed the timeline."
"And yet, you screwed me," Daniel pointed out.
"Yeah," Jack agreed with a sigh, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, staring at his hands. "What was that about?"
Daniel crossed his arms, glaring at him.
"Are you going to try to play some sort of denial game with me now? I think the cat's out of the bag, Jack."
"How do we know this isn't just a result of your wishing it?" Jack asked.
Daniel blinked a few times.
"Was it?" he whispered, clearly horrified.
"I dunno. I've been asking myself the same question."
"But… the nicknames… the constant manhandling… the fond tolerance… the annoying grooming behavior! That couldn't all have been my imagination!"
"Guys can be friends, can't they?!" Jack protested. When Daniel started getting that punched look again, he relented. "Or not? I don't know either. Give me a break Daniel. I was just in bed with you yesterday. You've had years to realize that all you had to do to get me to bend you over was talk dirty to me and then get your tongue in my mouth." He grimaced a little at the coarse sound of it. That wasn't how he felt about it. He tried to gauge Daniel's response, but Daniel had spaced out on him, staring off into the distance.
"Quand ils auront tari leurs chiques, comment agir, ô coeur volé ?"[1] Daniel murmured to himself.
Jack sighed again. He set aside the bottle and stood up. He reached out and touched Daniel's cheek gently. He looked deep into Daniel's hurt blue eyes and went for it.
"It's not like that, Daniel. I'm too tired right now to know why, but I know that it will never be like that. Ever."
Daniel looked stunned. He stared back at him, speechless for a moment.
Then anger and hurt turned to a spark of surprised happiness. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"Really? So a pushy, amateurish seduction and some tongue is all it takes, huh?" Daniel asked, his voice very serious, in contrast with the lurking smirk. He moved closer to Jack, so that their bodies pressed close. He wrapped his arms low around Jack's waist. He leaned in and gently brushed Jack's bottom lip with his mouth.
Epilogue
Daniel sighed. Even on a project as big as this one must be…
"Well, this should read: 'A million years into the sky is Ra, sun god, sealed and buried for all time...' It's not 'door to heaven." Daniel crossed out the word and replaced it, reading, "'…His Stargate.'"
Catherine laughed.
"Well, so why is the military so interested in 5,000 year old Egyptian tablets?" Daniel asked her.
"My report says 10,000."
Daniel turned around to dispute this ridiculous figure with the idiot who had just spoken in behind him.
"Afternoon, Colonel," Lieutenant Kawalski saluted.
Daniel's mouth fell open in shock.
"Um, do I know you?" Catherine asked pointedly.
"I'm Colonel Jack O'Neill from General West's office. I'll be taking over from now on."
Daniel's heart was racing. It was him. Younger. Eyes hard, jaw set, uniform perfect. Not Mac, but Colonel Jack O'Neill.
Mac's – well, Col. O'Neill's, apparently – impact on Daniel's career had been profound. He hadn't let go when he knew he was right. He had fought despite the fact that people refused to believe. Though over the last few years, he had often wondered when things would get as bad as they could possibly get, because he was damned ready for something wonderful to happen in his fucked up life.
Sometimes he had wondered if he were crazy, believing the stranger he had met on the beach, claiming to be from his future. But you couldn't really forget or discount watching someone disappear into thin air in a flash of white light, and Daniel had gone to the roof that evening and found all his gear, exactly as Mac had described.
Now, Daniel looked at this closed, dangerous man, and knew that now was the time, that he was going to save him, and together they were going to save the world, and sometime, in the future, he would see an obelisk to Thor and Col. Jack O'Neill would disappear into the past.
"This figure 10,000 is ludicrous. I mean, Egyptian culture didn't even exist…" Daniel argued quietly to Dr. Shore and tried not to be distracted by thoughts of true love and salvation.
Back to Part 1
Click here for The Multiple Time Loops Ending. (This is the first ending I wrote, which did not fitlokei's request for a happy ending. Stupid brain.)
These are the last lines of a poem that is possibly about a sexual encounter Rimbauld had with a group of sailors when he was in his late teens.
The rest of the poem, by the same translator:
And in the original:
If you're interested, all my stories, in order, from one page. Also, my fiction recommendations.
Author:
muck_a_luck, posting in brainofckPairing: Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Jack travels back in time and interrupts the summer vacation of a recently dissertated Daniel Jackson, PhD, PhD.
Content/warnings: French poetry? Is that a warning?
Words: 1432 words
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
Archive rights: Absolutely none. My journals only.
muck_a_luck and brainofckThe Matrix: Summer. The Matrix is located here.
Beta:
zats_clearBack to Part 1
P5X-432 never looked so good.
His sudden reappearance drew P-90 and staff weapon to him, but he wasn't waiting around for social pleasantries.
"Okay, kids, we're outta here. Everybody back away from the monument as fast as possible. Daniel, dial the Gate."
He could see the questions in Carter's eyes and the shock on Daniel's face, but they did exactly what he said.
General Hammond was at the bottom of the ramp when they came through.
"Sir, I strongly recommend that no one else be allowed to gate to P5X-432 until we can send remote demolitions in there to destroy that thing.
"What thing?" the general asked in confusion.
"An obelisk in one of the rooms of the complex appears to be similar in origin to Thor's Hammer," Teal'c supplied. "When O'Neill stepped near it, he was apparently teleported away, only to be returned a few moments later. Colonel O'Neill has not yet explained his disappearance."
"Colonel?"
"Sir, trust me, that thing is the most dangerous object we have ever encountered. We need to get rid of it now before anyone else comes in contact with it."
"I'm afraid I need a better explanation than that before I can authorize what you are asking. Thor's Hammer was a great loss."
"Could we?" Jack asked, gesturing up the stairs.
"So you convinced him?" Daniel asked when Jack finally appeared at his truck hours later. Daniel should have either been home by now, or busily doing whatever Daniel did in his lab and office when normal people went home.
"No time-travelling Kinsey. No presidency-wishing Kinsey. No Universe-Converted-to-Christianity-and-I'm-Your-Immortal-and-All-Powerful-Sunday-School-Teacher Kinsey."
"Ew. Yes, I see how the scenarios just get worse and worse the more you think about them," Daniel said, scrunching up his nose. He hopped down from where he was sitting on the hood of Jack's truck.
"We need to talk," said Daniel predictably. Jack knew he should have just stayed in quarters. He sighed and unlocked the doors. Daniel climbed into the passenger seat without invitation.
It was a quiet ride home. Daniel understood Jack's lessons about surveillance. The truck wasn't private. The only place they could assume true privacy was Jack's house, under the protection of Thor's little present.
It was even a relatively quiet arrival. Jack hung up his coat and walked into the kitchen to find them a couple of beers. Daniel went into the living room and stood looking out the window into the mid-morning light. Oh, the joys of working for the SGC. Gate travel and normal circadian rhythms didn't mix.
Jack wondered if he should even drink the beer. He was exhausted. With his adventure to Daniel's twentieth birthday party, Jack hadn't slept in nearly forty-eight hours. His head hurt. His body was starting to protest the lack of sleep. And he still had this 'talk' to get through with Daniel. It was either beer or coffee, and Jack didn't want caffeine in his system right now.
He put Daniel's bottle on the side table, right next to the well-worn copy of Rimbaud's Poesies that had appeared from nowhere. Jack resisted the urge to touch it and feel the heat of sun on sand. Instead, he sat down and settled into the corner of the couch.
Daniel allowed him one swallow of his beer before he started.
"You know, there were a lot of things you could have said to me," Daniel said.
"Like what?" Jack asked.
"Like – Sha'uri? Like – Apophis? Like – oh, just think of a few!" Daniel was suddenly shouting.
Okay. That hadn't been the 'talk' Jack was expecting. What the hell? Did Daniel never listen to the time-travel blahblahblah?!
"Like – Iraq?!" Jack yelled back, surprise and fatigue cracking what was left of his cool. "Like – Charlie?!"
Daniel's mouth fell open, then snapped shut. He looked like someone had hit him.
Jack squeezed his eyes closed and tried to start over.
"Look. There was a little voice in the back of my head I like to call 'Carter' telling me to get my ass out of there as fast as possible before I totally screwed the timeline."
"And yet, you screwed me," Daniel pointed out.
"Yeah," Jack agreed with a sigh, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, staring at his hands. "What was that about?"
Daniel crossed his arms, glaring at him.
"Are you going to try to play some sort of denial game with me now? I think the cat's out of the bag, Jack."
"How do we know this isn't just a result of your wishing it?" Jack asked.
Daniel blinked a few times.
"Was it?" he whispered, clearly horrified.
"I dunno. I've been asking myself the same question."
"But… the nicknames… the constant manhandling… the fond tolerance… the annoying grooming behavior! That couldn't all have been my imagination!"
"Guys can be friends, can't they?!" Jack protested. When Daniel started getting that punched look again, he relented. "Or not? I don't know either. Give me a break Daniel. I was just in bed with you yesterday. You've had years to realize that all you had to do to get me to bend you over was talk dirty to me and then get your tongue in my mouth." He grimaced a little at the coarse sound of it. That wasn't how he felt about it. He tried to gauge Daniel's response, but Daniel had spaced out on him, staring off into the distance.
"Quand ils auront tari leurs chiques, comment agir, ô coeur volé ?"[1] Daniel murmured to himself.
Jack sighed again. He set aside the bottle and stood up. He reached out and touched Daniel's cheek gently. He looked deep into Daniel's hurt blue eyes and went for it.
"It's not like that, Daniel. I'm too tired right now to know why, but I know that it will never be like that. Ever."
Daniel looked stunned. He stared back at him, speechless for a moment.
Then anger and hurt turned to a spark of surprised happiness. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"Really? So a pushy, amateurish seduction and some tongue is all it takes, huh?" Daniel asked, his voice very serious, in contrast with the lurking smirk. He moved closer to Jack, so that their bodies pressed close. He wrapped his arms low around Jack's waist. He leaned in and gently brushed Jack's bottom lip with his mouth.
Epilogue
Daniel sighed. Even on a project as big as this one must be…
"Well, this should read: 'A million years into the sky is Ra, sun god, sealed and buried for all time...' It's not 'door to heaven." Daniel crossed out the word and replaced it, reading, "'…His Stargate.'"
Catherine laughed.
"Well, so why is the military so interested in 5,000 year old Egyptian tablets?" Daniel asked her.
"My report says 10,000."
Daniel turned around to dispute this ridiculous figure with the idiot who had just spoken in behind him.
"Afternoon, Colonel," Lieutenant Kawalski saluted.
Daniel's mouth fell open in shock.
"Um, do I know you?" Catherine asked pointedly.
"I'm Colonel Jack O'Neill from General West's office. I'll be taking over from now on."
Daniel's heart was racing. It was him. Younger. Eyes hard, jaw set, uniform perfect. Not Mac, but Colonel Jack O'Neill.
Mac's – well, Col. O'Neill's, apparently – impact on Daniel's career had been profound. He hadn't let go when he knew he was right. He had fought despite the fact that people refused to believe. Though over the last few years, he had often wondered when things would get as bad as they could possibly get, because he was damned ready for something wonderful to happen in his fucked up life.
Sometimes he had wondered if he were crazy, believing the stranger he had met on the beach, claiming to be from his future. But you couldn't really forget or discount watching someone disappear into thin air in a flash of white light, and Daniel had gone to the roof that evening and found all his gear, exactly as Mac had described.
Now, Daniel looked at this closed, dangerous man, and knew that now was the time, that he was going to save him, and together they were going to save the world, and sometime, in the future, he would see an obelisk to Thor and Col. Jack O'Neill would disappear into the past.
"This figure 10,000 is ludicrous. I mean, Egyptian culture didn't even exist…" Daniel argued quietly to Dr. Shore and tried not to be distracted by thoughts of true love and salvation.
Back to Part 1
Click here for The Multiple Time Loops Ending. (This is the first ending I wrote, which did not fit
lokei's request for a happy ending. Stupid brain.) [1] My apologies, more Rimbauld. From "My Stolen Heart." One translation of this I found:
- When their shag is all dried up,
What to do then, my stolen heart?
These are the last lines of a poem that is possibly about a sexual encounter Rimbauld had with a group of sailors when he was in his late teens.
The rest of the poem, by the same translator:
- My sad heart dribbles at the poop,
My heart that's overlaid with shag.
They squirt upon it jets of soup,
My poor heart dribbles at the poop.
Beneath the jeering of the troop
Who burst out laughing every one
My sad heart dribbles at the poop,
My heart that's overlaid with shag.
Cocks straight up and soldier-like,
Their jeering's made it turn obscene.
Graffiti on the rudder can be seen,
Of cocks straight up and soldier-like.
Abracadabra waves,
Pick up my heart and wash it clean.
Cocks straight up and soldier-like,
Their jeering's made it turn obscene.
When their shag is all dried up,
What to do then, my stolen heart?
There will be bacchic belches then
When their shag is all dried up.
I'll start to retch up then
If I've to swallow down my heart.
When their shag is all dried up,
What to do then, my stolen heart?
And in the original:
- Mon triste coeur bave à la poupe,
Mon coeur couvert de caporal :
Ils y lancent des jets de soupe
Mon triste coeur bave à la poupe :
Sous les quolibets de la troupe
Qui pousse un rire général,
Mon triste coeur bave à la poupe,
Mon coeur couvert de caporal.
Ithyphalliques et pioupiesques
Leurs quolibets l'ont dépravé.
Au gouvernail, on voit des fresques
Ithyphalliques et pioupiesques.
O flots abracadabrantesques
Prenez mon coeur, qu'il soit lavé.
Ithyphalliques et pioupiesques
Leurs quolibets l'ont dépravé !
Quand ils auront tari leurs chiques
Comment agir, ô coeur volé ?
Ce seront des hoquets bachiques
Quand ils auront tari leurs chiques
J'aurai des sursauts stomachiques
Moi, si mon coeur est ravalé:
Quand ils auront tari leurs chiques,
Comment agir, ô coeur volé ?
If you're interested, all my stories, in order, from one page. Also, my fiction recommendations.
