December 3

CRIME:

Sentinel - Jim/Blair

Title: In Solemn Stillness
Author: Lyrastar
Fandom: The Sentinel
Pairing: Jim/Blair
Rating: NC-17
Contact: Lyrastarwatcher at yahoo dot com or www.geocities.com/lyrastarwatcher
Disclaimer: Petfly. You know the rest.
Betas: Nitwicks, Sara, Vicki and Kata, and who all helped in different ways. Thank you all so much.
Summary: This is sort of a sequel to last year's vignette "The Midnight Clear" at www.geocities.com/lyrastarwatcher/midnight done for those who wanted a happier ending. It's just a PWP, so I don't think it's necessary to read the prequel first.
Notes: For the Slash Advent Calendar at http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm

IN SOLEMN STILLNESS

The kiss is everything you have imagined. Jim's body is hard and insistent, just the way everyone else believes him to be. His lips are soft and yield to you, just the way you alone now know him to be.

He fingers your hair and electricity crackles straight down from your scalp and threatens to rend you clean in two. You have posed as his guide through heightened sensation you knew nothing of; now--at last--you think that you must be experiencing it a bit.

No one's caress has ever moved you like this. You have never felt so much before.

You stretch on your tip-toes and tilt you head back so he kisses you more deeply still. You let him probe as far down you as he can. A little voice tells you that this is unwise, but you tune it out. You have needed this too badly for too long.


***


The kiss is more than you have imagined. You have experienced much through your heightened senses, but never anything like this. It is the way Blair opens himself to you. Nothing, absolutely nothing is held back, just the way you have always known him to be.

There is a promise in his eyes that speaks to your soul and not merely to your vision. You hear his soft sigh; it is a benediction, not a concession. It astonishes you that he can want you this much; you are not in this alone.

You clamp your body down from inanely early climax. You hug him hard and kiss him more deeply still. You had no idea how badly you needed this. He has always been more attuned to your needs than you are to yourself, so while his advance may have startled you, it was nonetheless not a surprise.


***


You hadn't meant to seduce him, honest. You just came up to his room to talk. But one thing led to another and now you are lost together everything about you aches for him.

That first kiss was the kiss of death--and of life. It killed the silence and the facade and the unspoken pact that festered between you; they are dead and gone. Now there is only you and him and what you both want, and what you want is him.

With one hand you undo your jeans and let them fall. That message should be clear enough. Just in case, Little Blair pops his head straight through the fly of your briefs and aims itself straight for Jim.

You press against him and rub yourself along his body. You are burning up and don't know quite what to do. The only thing you know for sure is that you don't want this to ever stop.


***


Like a dim light in the distance, reality invades and you recognize that light for the speeding locomotive that it is. It is either going to crush you both, or take you on the ride of your lives. You wish you knew which it would be, but it doesn't really matter; you couldn't stop it either way.

Blair is so alive beneath your hands, and so utterly focused on you. If you hadn't learned to love him already, you are certain that you would have right now. His cock is crammed against your crotch and it seems so right and natural you only wish you had dropped your jeans as well.

"Are we really going to do this?" you hear yourself ask. It's a stupid question. You're fondling his chest and likely leaving love marks on his neck as you move.

The answer is so obvious a blind man could see it.

"I hope so, man. I love you. I want you every way there is," you hear him say.

The confirmation is almost too much to bear. You moan into his neck and rip your shirt off over your head. You must be nearer to him--nearer and nearer still.


***


Jim's shirt slides off and underneath he is beautiful. You've seen him before, but up close where you can touch him, it holds new meaning. You slide your hand over the rich ripples of heat and down his waistband until he moans something into your mouth. His muscles tense and you know his strength, his weight, his bulk. You want to lie down and have him crush you with his weight until every inch of you is plastered to him and you don't want him to ever let you up again.

You hear your own voice say, "Jim, touch me, please." His hand slides inside your shorts and, sweet god, he does!

At his touch, you know you are either going to come or die. You resolve to do neither until you've been naked and pressed against him and have known his love. He strokes your shaft and brushes a thumb over the head and you are not at all sure you will make it to the bed.

You push him down. Thankfully, he knows better than to resist.


***

You settle him in beside you, on your bed, among your sheets. Crimeny, Blair is actually in your bed! The clouds of blue and yellow stripes don't seem so empty now.

More out of need than intent, you keep your hand on his member. He writhes at your every move. He tries to tug at your jeans, but his fingers are clumsy. That's not like him at all. With your left hand you undo the fly. As you do, he lunges for your nipple. The contact is so intense it alarms you. It takes the reflex reaction of every skill he's taught you not to zone.

He suckles you with a fervor you've only seen in the jungle, the desperation of a man grasping at life.

"Sandburg, Sandburg." You slide your hands up and hold his head between them. "Easy there, Chief. I'm not going anywhere. We have time."

He turns those eyes upon you and you simply melt.

"I'm on fire, man. I need this." His fire leaps at you and you release him to move freely. This time when he bites your nipple you stay almost sane. You reach out blindly for him. You have to have him closer.


***

Jim kneads his fingers into your chest and you shudder at the contact. You are so swollen within his hand that you swear you are going to burst. You want to beg him to move, to make you feel him, to make you come, but you don't want this to end so soon.

Instead you reach for him.

You hold him in your hand, so ripe and needy just for you. You stroke his shaft, hard and hungry just like yours and the temptation is too much. You rub your cocks together and sheer pleasure explodes inside your brain. You move mindlessly against him. It has the feel of home.

***

Silk on silk. Stone to stone. If you tried for ten years you couldn't describe the feel of Blair's cock against your cock, Blair's lust against your lust, Blair and you finally and completely together.

You hold your cocks together and move carefully, as if the moment was so precious and delicate it might shatter. Soon you lose the ability to think of caution or sensibility, or anything except the need for greater friction.

You hold your cocks together, Blair's and yours, finally side by side, now as together in desire as you two have been in everything else. You thrust into your hands and against his body. You force your cocks up against your bellies, but soon even that isn't enough. Every neuron in your head screams out for more.

In frantic desperation, you speak into his ear. To your shock, he goes down between your legs and guides you to his mouth.


***

Jim rips away from your mouth and whispers, "Blair, I need you now."

You go willingly between his legs.

You place your mouth over his length. You blow a tentative puff of breath around his skin. You know he will feel it as a caress. His fingers tangle in your hair, the fervor of his rampant desperation made manifest by every twist and pull and tug. It hurts a little, but not as much as failing to give Jim what he wants.

He chokes your name. The naked need turns you inside out.

You swallow him to the hilt.

"Jim, Jim!" Blair has you by the shoulders. "Don't zone, man. Turn it down a little."

You concentrate and steady yourself. You use his voice, his hands, his face--you use all of him to lead you back to the here and now. For a guide, sometimes he makes absolutely no sense. "Sandburg, have you ever tried to turn down a blow-job?"

"Do you want to be awake for this or not?"

Point taken. "Yes."

"Good, because I want to hear what you scream when I make you come." He slides his lips back down.

"I don't scream," you say as the rhythm begins to build.

Blair pauses. "We'll see about that." Then he takes you in again.

You turn your senses down a little--just in the nick of time.


***


You hold Jim's ass with one hand and suck him hard; the first ooze graces your tongue. It excites you even more to taste what it is that you do to him and you increase the tempo of your mouth. Your other hand upon your own sex is moving insanely fast as if slaved to some mindless metronome of lust.

This is going to be over far too soon.

He's so thick that he's choking you now, but you don't stop. It never even occurs to you to stop.

The dearth of oxygen makes you dizzy. You are almost floating now in some unreal time and place.

You speed your tongue to end the aching, but he is stronger than you--physically at least. He pulls his body back and waits.

"What are you doing?" You can't believe he stopped you now. You can't believe he could.

"I want to fuck you," he says, and smiles.


***

"I want to fuck you." The thought escapes your lips before you can stop it. You check his face for horror, but instead he is laughing at you.

He shakes his head and his hair falls awry. He looks so young and innocent when he laughs. "I can't believe you said that, man. If only I could tell H and Rafe."

Blair rolls over with a smile. He passes you something. Uncle Ernest's All Natural Cactus Gel--with aloe and other organic emollients. It smells like last year's silage and is the color of dead algae in a stagnant pond and you have never been so excited to see a tube of anything before in your life. You slather it on and swear you'll put old Uncle Ernest at the top of your Christmas card list for this.


***


You bury your head in a pillow. You don't want to see or hear. You want your entire brain focused on the act of him within you. You want to feel it as intensely as he does. It vaguely bothers you that you will never experience the world as fully as he, but you are about to fully experience Jim.

It seems a fair enough trade.

With one hand you hold your dick. You soothe it, tell it that it won't have long to wait. With the other you press the pillow against your face. You can't really breathe; you don't really want to. You want the hypoxia to intoxicate you again.


***

You pause for a moment and admire him. Blair is so beautiful. You wonder why it took you so long to see him that way. All those abilities, yet you've been so blind. The curves of his neck, his back, the milky hue of his skin, the darker swell of the back of his sac where it bulges between his thighs all make your senses sing.

His gentleness, his compassion, the openness of his soul--those are the most beautiful of all. You wonder if you would have come to appreciate the body before you appreciated the mind and you decide it is a pointless question; you have the both of them now.

Blair-body, mind, and soul--is bent over and waiting for you to fuck him.


***


The guys told you that you had to be 'prepared' for penetration. Well, heck, what do you call the last three years if not foreplay? You think back to the biofeedback mantra the Zuni taught you. You relax your body, your muscles, and your mind. He inserts a finger inside of you and it's like a silk thread to a drowning man. Everything inside you screams for more.

"Do it now, man! I'm dying here; I can't wait."

With a groan and a passing flash of pain, he is inside you. Your mind reels and your body is blasted somewhere almost ethereal. You press your dick between the mattress and your hand; you work yourself and center all your thoughts and all your heart on Jim.


***

You bury yourself inside of him, and you know that nothing will ever be the same again. Your whole being is your dick and your dick is happily inside of him. You are no longer two, but one.

Mindlessly, your body moves with his. There are no longer five senses, only one--the incredible feel of Blair, and you in him. You can't see, you can't hear, you can't smell; you can only feel. You'd be happy to stay that way forever.

You thrust your hips and work on holding back, or forever will be a very short time indeed.


***


You arch your back and press your ass to meet him. He falls against your back and wraps his arms under your shoulders. He surrounds you, holds you, and protects you with his body. You have scoured the planet for truths, but nothing has ever felt as right and true as this.

He makes little noises in your ear. The pitch rises so as to be unrecognizable as Jim. It doesn't take a shaman to know what that sound means.

"Oh, no," you say. "This is perfect! Jim, whatever you do, don't come now!"

But he does. And it's wonderful. And at the sound he makes, so do you.


***

He is a part of you now; his smell, his taste, his soul. You have claimed him. He has given himself to you. The power makes you dizzy and you clutch his body more tightly for support. He is so soft, so tight, and so, so sweet.

He is the world's most perfect fuck.

Somewhere a glimmer of shame stabs your brain. He is your best friend, your guide. You can't use him like this, but hell, it feels so good! As the pressure builds within you, reality dawns. You are about to blow your load within your best friend. Stop now, Jim. Stop while you still can.

He moves beneath you--writhes beneath you. The sensation brings you even closer still. Pull out now, you think, but he is so tight and hot--just one more thrust and then you'll quit. One more. One more. Oh shit, you're right there! You make yourself stop, pull back. You don't make it out. God, he feels so good. Maybe just one more time--

Blair moans at the interruption. The fervor in his voice is like Spanish Fly. "This is perfect! Jim, whatever you do, don't come now!"

Then it's over. The dam breaks and the floodwaters roll. As you lay against his back recovering you think, dammit, you could have held on longer, if only he hadn't said those words.


***


Jim's face is sweet, like a child at rest in perfect peace. With just your lips, you nibble at his arm. You taste musk and sweat and Jim. You think it makes you high.

He pulls you tight against him. He is drained--sated--and no longer wants your body, only you.

You know that feeling well. You used to wonder: Is it love or only lust, and how will I know for sure? Here in this post-coital intimacy you have your answer, and it is a beautiful thing indeed.

You snuggle up against his muscles and treat your fingers to his sweaty chest. Okay, lust isn't such a bad thing either. You are so lucky to have found both.


***


You can count every heartbeat of his. You can feel them ease and slow in your embrace. You have sensed so many things--Blair has shown you how to sense so many things--why did it take so long for him to show you this? The sensation is indescribable; it does not fit any of the standard five. You would trade all the rest to keep this one: Blair, his heartbeat happy against your heartbeat, and all that that realization does to you.

You say the words so softly, only a sentinel should hear.

"I love you too, man," he murmurs into your neck.

"How the hell did you do that? Do you read lips?" You tug playfully at his hair.

"I read Jim," he says.

You count your blessings one more time.


***


In a way you'd like to go to sleep. This moment is so perfect, you'd like to drift away into it and stay there through the night.

In another way, you want to stay awake and treasure the feel of Jim holding you for as long as you possibly can.

Tonight it seems that there are no bad options.



***


You stroke his curls back and away from his face and think of all the times you've wanted to do just that. One time some girl asked you what was your favorite part of sex. You didn't tell her, because you thought it sounded too gay. Truth be told, this is your favorite part, both sated, both happy, both wanting nothing more than what you have.

Does this make you gay, you wonder? You suppose so, and you wonder why you ever cared. If being gay feels this good, then for Pete's sake, bring out the pansies. You'll open a garden center if that's what it takes to stay with him.

You think of all the things you wanted to do to him--for him--with him. Like watching his penis step by step as it rose and burgeoned to perfection. You wanted to suck his toes, lick his feet, and worship even the most humble part of him. You wanted him to rim you. You wanted to feel him buck helplessly under your body as you rimmed him into oblivion. You wanted to explore every part of him, to fuck his abs, his hands, his thighs, and the coarse hair underneath his arms.

A million obscene scenarios have filled your head as you lay in this same bed alone. It would take years to fulfill everything you have envisioned.

You pull him tightly against you and decide that perhaps that isn't such a bad thing.


***

"Are you worried?" you ask him.

"Yeah," he says. Somehow you expected the famous Ellison Evasion.

"So am I," you say. The captain has cut you a lot of slack on policy over the years, but gender completely aside--couples not riding together is a strict safety rule. Neither of you expected to have that one broken for you.

If you had, it would hardly have taken you this long to end up here together.

Police work is so much a part of what he is and what you have become together, that you can't imagine being split up on the job now. You never imagined yourself as a cop, but you want nothing more than to stay his partner. Only now when you balance on the edge of losing that do you realize how much it means.

"So what do we do?" you ask. You curl in tighter against his body. You will not accept that this was a mistake.

"What we always do, Chief, our jobs. As long as we do that well, no one can criticize anything. It'll be okay. You'll see."

You press your face into his chest and he soothes your shoulders with his hand. The Maori have an incantation they believe can stop time in its tracks. You wish you'd paid more attention. "Jim, have you ever felt that something was too perfect to be true? That it couldn't possibly last?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

He kisses your forehead. "Well, once, if you count right now."

END

SCIENCE FICTION

Stargate SG-1 - Jack/Daniel

Art by Ev vy "Jack and Daniel"

SCIENCE FICTION

Star Trek - The Next Generation - Picard/Q

Author: kira-nerys
Title: We’ve Come A Long Way…
Codes: NC17, slash
Date: December 3, 2004
Pairing: P/Q
Series: TNG
Summary: Picard makes the first move.
Part of the Slash Advent Calendar of 2004. http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Author’s note: This story was started a long time ago, for the PiQuante! Fest which never hit it off. So here it is,, I hope you’ll enjoy it. I suppose you could say that this story is set between Generations and First Contact.
Feedback: Please - at kira at kardasi dot com.
Disclaimer: Picard, Q, the Enterprise et al, are not my property. They all belong to Viacom and Paramount. No profit is being made from this, just some pleasure, hopefully, and no infringement upon existing copyright is intended.
Betas: Many thanks to Tiggy Malvern for the beta. It’s just the way I like it. Quick and thorough!

We've Come A Long Way...

by kira-nerys

Picard awoke and stretched luxuriously in his bed. Knowing that he didn’t have to get up for another couple of hours was a unusual treat. Christmas in space was hardly different from any other day, except for the fact that there would be parties all over the ship and some delicious foods to be eaten. Picard yawned and sighed. He was happy on Enterprise, but it was often business as usual on the holidays and sometimes – like now – he missed that family connection with a pain he hadn’t expected. Thinking of his family in France, knowing they were all gone now, everyone except Robert’s wife, Marie, was more difficult during the holidays. The comfortable feeling he’d awoken with dissipated at that rememberance.

Sighing, he looked through the window right above his bed. Stars flashed by and the bedroom was quiet. Glancing over at the chronometer, he was grateful that he didn't have to get up for another couple of hours. That was probably the largest difference between Christmas and normal days on the Enterprise. Barring unforseen dangers, many of the crew would be allowed to take days off or to sleep in. The rest would have to wait until New Year’s. Feeling drowsy, Picard waited for sleep to claim him again, but thoughts intervened. He had dreamt something, something far more pleasant than the loss of his family. What was it?

A deep voice seemed to whisper at the edges of his consciousness, and memories of a courtroom that had been such an abhorrent experience over eight years ago came unbidden to his mind. He remembered the crowd screaming, and the condescending tone in Q's voice. But the memory transformed slowly, into the last time he'd been in that same courtroom . This time, it had been quiet – he and Q its only occupants. It had seemed almost intimate, and there had been a different, affectionate tone in Q's voice.

He'd been thinking about Q a lot lately. Picard told himself he should be grateful for every minute that the Enterprise and its crew – and he – were left alone by the fickle entity, but he wasn't. He felt impatient, as though there was something important left unfinished between them, and this feeling only seemed to grow stronger for each day that passed.

He remembered the last time he’d met Q. How the entity had leaned over him before he left, warm breath brushing his ear. Q had withdrawn with an almost flirtatious smile on his lips and Q’s final words had held promise rather than threat to Picard. "I'll be watching you...and if you're very lucky, I'll drop in to say hello from time to time. "

That was a long time ago now, and as far as Picard could tell, Q hadn’t dropped in once. He’d never imagined feeling so disappointed at that fact.

"Preoccupied, Mon Capitain?" A teasing voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Q!" Picard couldn't hold the surprise and irritation away. He felt as though he'd been caught red-handed doing something that he shouldn't. An unpleasant flush warmed his cheeks. Was Q reading his mind? He wouldn’t put that past the entity.

"My, my, did I interrupt something private?" Q's smile widened and he tilted his head to the side as his eyes raked Picard's body. Suddenly his silk pajamas felt terribly inadequate. "How quaint."

"You didn't interrupt me," Picard said. "You simply startled me. I'll never get used to you just popping in and out as it pleases you."

"Why, mon capitain, do you want me to pop in more often?” Q smiled, but then seemed to rethink his comment. “I think not – I wouldn't want you to grow bored with me – not that that is very likely to happen."

Picard frowned and bit back an acerbic reply. For the first time since he got to know Q, Picard didn't want him to leave. The admission, even if it was only to himself, made Picard feel horribly exposed.

"Well, since you are here, what do you want?" Picard rose from his bed and pulled on a robe. He might as well get up. He wouldn't sleep any more this morning.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Q said. "What if I dropped in because I'm bored, and want company? Even your pathetic attempts at conversation are more interesting than those of the members of the Continuum."

Picard grunted at the dubious compliment and, suddenly the idea came to him. If Q was really bored, and had only sought him out to talk, why not give him something stimulating to think about? Picard resisted the smile that threatened. This was the perfect opportunity to tell Q the truth. Something hot coiled in Picard’s belly at the thought, but… it was time. He had been having trouble concentrating on his duties long enough.

"Bored, Q?" Picard said. He extended his hand in an invitation towards his navy blue couch. "If that's true, why don't you have a seat?"

Q looked at him suspiciously. "What did you do? Did you have that pompous chief engineer of yours install an artificial black hole in the sofa? Will it swallow me up so you'll never have to lay your eyes on my handsome face again?"

Picard laughed and again surprised himself by doing so. Right now, Q’s presence was … refreshing, rather than annoying. Perhaps that was simply because he’d finally admitted the truth to himself?

"Hardly, Q. Your presence in my life is far too ... interesting … for me to want to get rid of you permanently."

"Oh, really?" Q's voice held only contempt now, and he refused to sit down, instead standing a mere meter away from Picard with his arms firmly crossed over his chest. Picard ignored him and sat on the easy chair across from the couch. "That does it. Something has to be wrong. You are never nice to me. Did the Founders replace you with a shape-shifter?" Despite his misgivings, Q finally sat on the edge of the couch. When nothing untoward happened, he slid back further and made himself comfortable.

Picard sighed and conceded that Q probably had a point. He was acting differently, but truth be told, if he wanted to change their relationship, this was as good a time as any other to start....

"Q ..." Picard hesitated.

Q leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on the glass table, his brown eyes boring deep into Picard's. "What is it, Jean-Luc?" The voice was soft and alluring, and Picard shook his head.

"Nothing."

What had he been thinking? His brain must be shutting down completely. Or perhaps Q was playing some game with him? Perhaps he was exercising mind control? Picard frowned and looked the entity straight in the eye. No, that probably wasn’t it. Q would most likely consider that an empty victory, and that would certainly bore him. Q didn’t look bored. He looked curious and slightly… suspicious.

"Nothing? I don't believe you, Jean-Luc. Those eyes of yours were so sincere and so concerned. I'm sure you were going to tell me something incredibly interesting." Q's voice held just a little bit of contempt. "As interesting as your human life gets, I suppose. So what's going on? Did you finally propose to that dreary redhead in Sickbay? Are you trying to tell me that you and Beverly are going to repeat the mistake I showed you in the future?"

"No, Q," Picard said, thoughtfully, wondering why Q even mentioned Beverly. He realized he now had a golden opportunity to ask a few questions that had been on his mind ever since the time-travel … incident … had happened. "Why did you throw a marriage between us into the mix? We both know that the future I experienced is not going to take place. You only fabricated it on orders from the Continuum, to test me yet again. So, why Beverly?"

Q stared at his fingernails and sighed. Then his gaze landed on Picard's lips as he said: "Why not? I had to make your future believable or the test would have been useless."

Picard tried to ignore that look, but his lips tingled as though Q had in fact touched them – kissed him even. Arousal stirred and he rose from the easy chair to distract himself from the sensation.

"But why Beverly? And why did you make our marriage fail?"

"Come now, Jean-Luc. Even you must admit that it’s obvious that had it been real, a marriage between you two would have failed miserably!" Q said, pacing irritably across the room eyeing the couch suspiciously. "She pampers you like you were a child. Oh, dear. She would get on your nerves in a week, not to mention after so many years!"

"So you showed me this out of compassion?" Picard snorted. He was suspecting a quite different reason that made his gut tense up.

"I do have a heart, you know!" Q glared at him with a truly offended look on his face.

"I never doubted it." Picard said and drew a finger across his lips thoughtfully. He drew a deep breath and looked out the window above his bed, thus turning his back to Q so he could think straight. "So, you did it because you didn't want me to make that mistake? Or was there some other reason?"

"It's fun to watch you squirm," Q said and smiled with satisfaction.

Picard turned suddenly, and held the entity's gaze while he walked to stand behind him. Q started to turn around, as though threatened by not being able to see Picard.

"No, stand still, Q. Please." Picard said.

And to his surprise, Q remained unmoving. "Now, what?"

"What about this, Q?" Picard moved close enough to allow his breath to tickle Q's ear as he spoke. It was a bit awkward, since he was shorter, but the effect appeared to be exactly the same on Q as it had been on him..

Q shivered, and turned around. "What about it?" he said.

“Was this the reason you put Beverly in the mix, to make sure I knew it could never really work?”

Q’s voice was suddenly harsh. "I told you – it's fun to make you squirm. I don’t need any other reason, Picard."

"So, it's 'Picard' now, is it?" Picard said. "You always call me Jean-Luc."

"Or Johnny, or captain, or Mon capitain, or whatever." Q tried to sound bored and indifferent, looking down at his nails as though there was a speck of dirt underneath them, but Picard could see Q's hands trembling. As though suddenly noticing, Q folded his hands behind his back and glared at him.

"You seem awfully defensive, Q," Picard said softly.

"I'm not, I'm just bored."

"I don't think so," Picard protested, and could hardly believe what he planned to do, but his gut reaction told him to follow his instincts. Doing so had served him well throughout his career in Starfleet. Why should instinct fail him now?

Reaching up to the entity’s dark hair, he buried his fingers into the silken strands, and Q’s eyes grew big. “Jean-Luc, what are you doing?” he squeaked. Picard couldn’t help smiling at the terrified look on the entity’s face. But he didn’t snap out of existence with a flash. Picard took that as a good sign and leaned forward and upward, pulling Q’s head closer. Then he whispered huskily. “I’m kissing you. Do you mind?”

Q’s reaction was not quite what Picard had expected, or wanted. “Yes, I mind!” he said and stepped back, almost making Picard lose his balance. Q looked suspiciously at him. “You’re playing with my feelings, Jean-Luc,” he said petulantly. “That is cruel.”

Picard couldn’t help laughing, even though he was disappointed that Q had pulled away. He’d really been looking forward to that kiss, so much so, in fact, that he was tingling all over, and his cock was growing hard. “First of all, my dear Q, I am not playing with your feelings. It’s not really my modus operandi, as you well know by now. But even if I were, you shouldn’t talk.”

Q turned his head away, suddenly looking strangely ashamed. “I am sorry,” he said softly.

“You are?” Picard hesitated, before he stepped closer to the entity again. “What would you say if I proposed that you and I put everything that has happened in the past behind us and explore this new thing that’s evolved between us?”

Q didn’t reply at once, but Picard took that as another good sign and put his hands on the entity’s arms, caressing them. Q was trembling violently.

“What is it?” Picard asked.

“I have watched humans engage in sexual intercourse a million times – a billion times even!” He paused. “I’ve even done it myself a few times.

“But …?” Picard prompted and Q shot him an irritable glare.

“But,” he continued. “I have never cared about any of my partners. Now I don’t know what to do,” the omnipotent entity admitted with more than just a tinge of annoyance in his voice.

Picard swallowed. In essence, what Q was telling him was that he was special. He wasn’t just any human. “My, my, Q, are you trying to tell me you care?”

Q didn’t reply to that. He only straightened his back and met Picard’s gaze stubbornly. The chocolate brown eyes were deep, endless, and for the first time, Picard had the feeling he could see Q’s true self, with no charades, no mirages, and no deception. He felt awed at that, and a little afraid. There was some kind of responsibility connected with this … this openness. Q was suddenly fragile, and whatever he did next would tip the balance. If he didn’t do this right, Q would turn back to his petulant, uncaring and dangerous self. Who knew what would happen then? Perhaps he would wreak havoc with the universe, unraveling the fabric of time. Or maybe he would call off Christmas?

Picard felt as though he was balancing on a knife’s edge, carrying an egg. It was a sensation he had experienced many times in his line of work, and he reacted the same way he always did. He took command of the situation and made sure everyone knew he was honest, competent and that he cared deeply about what he was going to do.

His hands moved from the entity’s arms, and Picard could still feel the trembling through the fabric of the red uniform. “It’s all right, Q,” Picard whispered. “You can trust me. You’ve always been able to trust me. You know that.”

Then he pushed his fingers back into that luxurious brown hair, revelling at the silky feeling, and pulled Q’s unresisting head closer, before he pressed his lips against Q’s and kissed him. The kiss made everything explode between them. Years of pent-up desire that Picard hadn’t even known that he’d felt was suddenly unleashed.

“Q,” he groaned and the kiss deepened. Warm, hungry and eager. Q’s strong arms wound around Picard’s waist and pulled him closer, their bodies melting together. Q was just as hard as he was, and that made Picard moan again, almost forgetting where he was, and he didn’t really care.

With a snap of his fingers, Q moved them both to another time, another place. Picard started and pulled away.

“Relax, Mon capitain,” Q said huskily and his grip around Picard’s waist tensed slightly, the large hands moving soothingly across Picard’s back, making the silk of his pajamas and robe glide sensually aganst his skin. Picard shivered as Q continued. “We are still on the Enterprise, and if anyone wants you, you’ll be there quick as another snap of my fingers, I promise.”

Promise? Had Q ever promised him anything before, besides trouble? Yes, Picard realized, he had, and he did always keep his promises – often in some odd, incomprehensible fashion. But rememebering this, Picard relaxed, and followed Q’s lead toward the beautiful four-poster bed. Picard’s quarters now reminded him of some oldfashioned mansion during the festive season, decorated with muted colors and heavy fabrics. The windows went from floor to ceiling in the half-circular room and the heavy draperies were made of a dark red velvet. They were pulled apart to let the moonlight in and it shone on the large bed, which Q pulled him toward. In the corner there was a large Christmas-tree, decorated with exquisit crystal-balls, glitter and real candles. The candles spread a soft glow around the room, making the bed look incredibly inviting.

“Red silk?” Picard said and lifted an eyebrow at Q.

“Only the best for you, Jean-Luc,” Q whispered and pulled him back into his arms, moving backwards toward the bed. Picard smiled mischievously and pushed the entity down on the luxurious sheets. His face was a study in shadows and light and the candles made it look vulnerable and hungry at the same time. Q bounced lightly on the bed, and groaned when Picard followed to straddle him, rubbing his ass wickedly over Q’s erection. Picard’s insides surged with a strong sense of power when he saw Q’s eyes fall shut and the entity thrust helplessly against his buttocks.

“Do you like that, Q?” Picard whispered.

“Yes, Jean-Luc, I do,” Q admitted. He lifted his hands to snap his fingers.

“No,” Picard said and grabbed his hand. “None of that. Not without asking me first. What were you planning to do?”

“Get rid of our clothes,” Q said. “They’re in the way.”

“So impatient,” Picard chuckled. “No, the clothes stay on as long as I say so.”

“You’re bossy in bed, did anyone ever tell you that?” Q wondered and frowned at him.

“Yes, one or two of my previous lovers have mentioned it,” Picard said and smiled. Then he turned serious. “Honestly, Q, you need to relax and enjoy the ride. The journey is more important than the destination, didn’t anyone ever teach you that?”

“No.”

“Then I will teach you,” Picard said and proceeded to pull down the zipper in the back of Q’s uniform jacket. Admittedly, getting him out of a Starfleet uniform was a little tricky, and not quite as sensual as Picard would have liked, but then again, the reward was worth it. Revealing Q’s golden skin underneath, the heavy muscles and the powerful chest was more than reward enough.

“You are beautiful, Q,” Picard whispered. He’d never truly realized it before, or perhaps he had simply not admitted it to himself, but Q was very attractive. His lips were full and kissable and the heavy-lidded eyes were a warm, coffee brown color and they met Picard’s gaze without hesitation. There was curiosity and anticipation there, but none of the usual condescension or superiority. Picard lifted his hand and put it against Q’s chin in a caress. It was stubbled and Picard shivered slightly, wondering if Q did that consciously or how he could appear so utterly human.

“Don’t look at me like I’m a specimen in a petri dish, Jean-Luc,” Q said softly.

“I don’t. I mean. I won’t. I’m just … curious about you, that’s all,” Picard admitted. “There is so much I don’t know about you, Q. Things I have never wanted to know before, but now find myself hungry for.”

“What do you want to ask?” Q asked, suddenly a bit wary.

“So many things. Like your stubble here. Is it just something you do for detail? To make your human body more real?” Picard could have kicked himself, but still couldn’t help himself or the questions that came to his mind. He was an explorer, and curiosity was a big part of who he was.

“No, Jean-Luc. Right now, I am just as human as you. Feel my heart beat.” Q grabbed Picard’s hand and put it against his chest. “Feel that? Feel the rhythm? The warmth of my skin, the sweat?”

“Yes.” Q’s heart was indeed beating there, in his chest, right where the human heart should be. And it was beating fast, and his body smelled of the sort of clean sweat that signalled arousal.

“Let’s talk later,” Picard said, trying not to think about all the questions that were gathering in his mind, thoughts about why Q looked the way he did. Why had he chosen that particular appearance? What did he look like when he was in his normal form? What …?

“Sssh!” Q said, pulling Picard’s head down for another kiss. “Later.”

“Later,” Picard echoed and fell into the kiss, all questions suddenly forgotten. He had a job to do, and he was going to do it – well. He was going to show Q what it was like to make love with a little bit of patience. He dragged his hands slowly, lovingly over Q’s muscular chest, down to the abdomen, where a string of hair grew wider before disappearing beneath the black uniform trousers. “So, Q,” he whispered. “What are you wearing underneath?” The springy hairs tickled Picard’s palms and he licked his lips at the thought of what he might soon see.

Q lifted an eyebrow, and suddenly Picard knew that whatever he was about to find, it would either be something outrageous or something outrageously sexy. He couldn’t wait to find out whether he was about to laugh himself sick or if he were about to lose his breath in arousal. He kissed a path down Q’s abdomen, allowing his fingers to follow, making little detours toward the nipples. That caused Q to moan and throw his head back. Picard smiled and moved further down, his hands eventually ending up on the fly, opening the button slowly and pushing the zipper down.

He didn’t look immediately, but dragged his nose against Q’s smooth, flat stomach. He allowed himself to taste the saltiness of that satiny skin that smelled so good, and tasted even better. How come he had never noticed how nice Q smelled before?

“Mm,” he moaned and pulled the trousers down Q’s hips, and the entity helped by lifting off the bed a little. But there was nothing outrageous there. No underwear with dancing bananas on them and no black leather thong that would threaten to make Picard choke. There was just Q, and a nest of curls centering around his normal sized, uncut, but very aroused, cock.

Q obviously knew him better than he thought, Picard realized. “Beautiful,” he breathed. “You are just beautiful.” Nothing could have turned him on more than seeing Q like this, naked, vulnerable and so enticing.

Pulling down Q’s pants completely and throwing them on the floor, Picard watched the entity in the flickering light from the candles. All nude, he really was gorgeous, and Q made no attempt to either flaunt himself or shy away. He just lay there, aroused and waiting to see what Picard would do next. Perhaps Q realized that even though Picard really wanted this – really, really wanted this – he was also a little intimidated and it was good to have control, or at least to believe that he had some control over the situation. If Q wanted to hurt him, there was nothing Picard could do about it, and that leant a dangerous sensation to the experience, but at the same time, he felt incredibly safe. Q had saved his life on many occasions, and Picard didn’t believe he would truly put him – or even his crew – in danger. Not anymore.

“Beautiful,” Picard repeated and reached out to caress the smooth skin of Q’s flawless cock. The arousal sparked through his own body at the touch. The cock leapt in his hands and Q gasped. It was as if Q’s body harbored an electrical current that bounced between them when they touched. Picard moaned.

“Jean-Luc,” Q said huskily.

“Yes?”

“Let me see you. Please.” Q’s voice was low and barely recognizable and Picard gasped at the heat that met him when he looked up. Slowly, he pulled the sash of the robe and shrugged it off his shoulders. It pooled behind him in a rush of light, cool silk that brushed against his feet where he was sitting, with his legs folded underneath him.

“Too many clothes,” Q said impatiently. “May I?”

Picard knew instantly that Q simply wanted to remove all the clothes with a snap of his fingers, but he didn’t want that.

“No,” Picard said. “No, wait.”

Q sighed impatiently, but there was a spark of something in his eyes. Respect? Curiosity? Something. Something that indicated that he liked Picard’s answer after all.

“Feel this,” Picard said, grabbing hold of Q’s large, square hand and put it on his thigh, where the silky pajamas touched his skin. He moved their entwined hands across the silk. “Do you feel it?”

“Yes,” Q whispered. “It feels really good.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Picard said and moaned as Q’s hand slid further up, brushing his cock lightly. The light touch sent jolts of pleasure through him and his cock jumped, becoming even harder.

Picard swallowed. “See, there are some benefits to keeping your clothes on, for just a little while.”

“You may have a point,” Q conceded. “But I really want to see you … naked.”

So Picard pushed himself off the bed, letting the robe slide to the floor as he moved. Then he pulled the shirt over his head, baring his gray-haired chest, wondering suddenly what Q really saw in him. He was an old man, would not live much longer, at least not in the eyes of an immortal being such as Q.

“Perfect,” Q whispered. “So perfect.”

Then Q moved, sitting up and leaning toward Picard where he was standing by the edge of the bed. Q’s reached out until his hand rested on Picard’s chest. “Your body is beautiful, Picard,” he reassured. “But what I like most about you is your mind. You never cease to surprise me with your strength and resiliance. That’s why I… want to be here, why I want you.”

Picard’s breath caught at the touch of Q’s hand against his abdomen. It was warm and soft, and so close to where he burned. He swallowed and threw his pajama shirt to the floor next to the robe. Q’s words and his voice, the voice that could be so taunting and so humiliating, now purred with sensuality and promise. Picard knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Q meant what he said. When the hand moved further down, gripping him through the silk pajama shorts, Picard swallowed hard and closed his eyes against the vision. Seeing Q’s hand resting there on his groin would make him come. It felt … “Oh!” he moaned. Q withdrew his hand as though aware of how close he came from that touch alone.

“What can I be to you, Q?” Picard whispered. “I could die tomorrow, or a year from now.”

“Sssh!” Q said and put a finger over his lips. “No more talking, remember? I want to see you now.”

Picard gave in and took off his pants, finally standing naked before Q. The entity’s eyes widened and looked at him with awe, as though he had never seen anything so beautiful in his life. It was uncomfortable and Picard felt undeserving of that gaze. For the first time in many years, he felt the blush of embarrassment creep up on his cheeks, and he wanted to hide. How could Q think he was that beautiful? Q had seen so much, so many indescribable things, so many beautiful worlds and beings….

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder….” Q whispered and pulled Picard down onto the bed. Then they kissed again and the embarrasment died away, leaving only hunger and desire. “You are beautiful, Picard. You chest is muscular and defined, your ass is to die for and I could fantasize about those legs wrapped around my waist a century or more.”

Those words and the touch of his skin against Q’s naked body made Picard groan. Their kisses became urgent. Their tongues entwined, danced and tasted each other’s warm, wet and eager lips, and Picard drowned in sensation. Q tasted as though he had been drinking something, whiskey or cognac perhaps. Or maybe it was just the taste of Q himself that was so intoxicating?

Their bodies rubbed together, sliding deliciously on the silken sheets and the sound of Christmas songs could be heard in the background. Picard knew he would never forget this moment, with Q’s cock against his, rubbing, sliding and making him harder and hotter with each move. He would always remember this when he heard ‘White Christmas’ from now on. He chuckled slightly and gasped as Q’s hand moved from his shoulders in between them, grabbing both their cocks, sliding deliciously over his glans once, twice, then down along his shaft. Short nails dragged against the vein on the underside, cupping his testicles gently, rolling them and making them pull closer to his body. Picard hissed. Then the thumb was back on the head, spreading the moisture there, faster, underneath where he was so sensitive, where he would….

“Q!” he groaned. “It’s been so long. I won’t last if you touch me like that.”

“You will last,” Q crooned and rubbed his thumb over the head of Picard’s cock over and over again, causing him to gasp and rock his hips helplessly against that delicious caress. It was so good, and he was convinced he was going to lose it any second now. He would come. Soon, soon. Now. But no, the pleasure went on, and on, and on.

“Merde!” he groaned. “So… good!”

It was as if something held him back, as though he was wearing a cock ring or something that wouldn’t let him come, would only allow the sensation to grow and grow until Picard could feel nothing but that exquisite pleasure between his legs. He lived there, he was aware of nothing but Q’s delicious caress that burned, and burned and made him want. He wanted to come, he didn’t want to come. He wanted this to last forever, and ever.

“Jean-Luc,” Q whispered. “You’re so beautiful”. Q was now pushing him down on his back on the silky sheets. Forgotten were all thoughts of having any kind of control over what was going on. He was in Q’s hands, literally and completely. He had nothing to say or do against the onslaught of sensations, againt the ripples of electricity that danced along the shaft of his cock. The hands that moved over his balls and his cock made him squirm and moan.

“Do you feel good, Jean-Luc?” asked the husky, sexy voice. “Do you want to come?”

“Yes … No … Oh! I …” He didn’t know what he wanted. He wanted this pleasure to go on for an eternity, and he couldn’t stand it a second longer. It was torture. It was bliss.

“I can keep you like this forever, Jean-Luc, if you want me to, but all you have to do is ask. Just ask me, Jean-Luc, and I will let you come. Let me see you come!”

“Yes, oh, yes. Let me … let me come,” Picard gasped, pleading and feeling the pleasure grow tighter and tighter, like a wire about to snap – and then it did, allowing the pleasure to bloom inside his belly, spread through his limbs like wildfire setting his entire body aflame once again. So good, so good. Never had anything felt so good. It was a tidal wave and he followed the tsunami, riding its crest until the monster wave of pleasure was nothing more than a memory.

“Q”, he whispered hoarsely a second later, or an eon. He didn’t know. He must have screamed, because his throat was raw and his body was relaxed like after a thorough massage. “That was … that was …?”

“Outstanding? Wonderful? Unlike anything else you’ve ever experienced?” Q whispered. Picard chuckled and nodded. “Yes,” he admitted. “For once you’re not bragging.”

“Of course I am,” Q said and laughed. Then the smile died and he looked into Picard’s eyes pleadingly. “Can I fuck you, Jean-Luc?” he asked. “I so want to fuck you. Would you let me?” Q’s voice was hesitant and hopeful at the same time.

“Would you not do it if I asked you?” Picard said, and regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.

 “I’m sorry,” he said simply when he saw the hurt in Q’s eyes. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. It’s just … you’re so powerful, you could make me want it even if I didn’t.”

“I could never force you to do anything you didn’t want, Jean-Luc. Not because I can’t, but because I won’t,” Q said and pulled away. His cock was now softening and Picard instantly felt guilty and disappointed. Mostly disappointed, because there was nothing he wanted more than to feel Q’s body inside his own, or to be inside Q. That would come, later. But right now … “Q,” he said firmly. “I do trust you.”

“Do you? Do you really?” Q said, and sat back on the bed beside him, the brown eyes scrutinizing Picard. “Because if you don’t. We cannot do this. Not ever again.”

“But I do want you, Q. Come back here and fuck me.”

Picard could see the entity shiver at his words, and the cock was already beginning to fill up with blood again. “Was it something I said, Q?” he asked and grinned.

“Anything you say, Jean-Luc. Everything you say. Your voice … it’s an elecric shock to my system,” Q gasped.

Picard smiled. Q wasn’t the first lover who had ever said something like that to him. But it was the first time he’d heard it from someone whose voice had the same effect on him.

“I foresee a lot of talking in our mutual bed, Q,” Picard murmured. “I can see you talking to me, with that beautiful voice of yours, making me hard just by telling me how much you want me.”

Predictably, Q moaned and moved back up on the bed. Picard leaned back on the mountain of pillows, pushing them away. Fucking on his back, a pillow would be more useful under his hips than his head. He pulled one of the fluffy items down and pushed it underneath his hips.

“Lubrication?” he said questioningly. “You have to prepare me.”

“I could….” Q lifted his hand and was about to snap his fingers.

“No,” Picard said. “No cheating.”

“Well, if I can’t use my powers, there will be no fucking,” Q explained impatiently. “There is no lubricant in the room. I didn’t plan that far ahead. I simply thought….”

Picard laughed. “All right! You may snap the lubricant into being, but you put it on, manually! Hands on, Q!”

“Picky, picky,” Q tsk-ed but did as Picard wanted, snapped his fingers and a small jar of transparent liquid appeared on the bed beside them. “This is Slick Love from Risa,” Q explained as he opened the lid. “It is made of a substance from a tree that grows only on their planet. It doesn’t dry and it’s completely odorless, so they add the scent of Risean lilacs to it.”

“Mon Dieu, Q!” Picard laughed. He could honestly not remember when he’d laughed so much last. “You mean my buttocks are going to smell like lilacs.”

“Mais oui, mon capitain!” Q said, seriously. “Not only is it the best lubricant in the universe, but it’s smell is also an aphrodisiac, so close your mouth, don’t talk, lie back on the bed and enjoy.”

Now who was in control? Picard thought ruefully, but did as Q ordered. Then the laughter died away, because Q’s blunt index finger brushing his entrance made the sparks fly instantly. His cock rose slowly from its nest of curls, but the arousal was quick as lightning, enveloping his body immediately. He groaned, and Q gasped. “Gorgeous, Jean-Luc,” he murmured. “Show me how much you like this. Show me, tell me …”

“Oh,” Picard moaned. When he was younger he’d never been much of a talker in bed, but he’d had to adapt, learning very quickly that his voice was one of his best assets during sexual encounters. Now his mind fought to remember what to say, what to do – how to let Q know how much he was enjoying the touches in his most intimate of places.

“I… “ he gasped. “Oh fuck, Q, I don’t know what to say. My mind is blank. You do that to me. I can’t think when you do that to me. It’s so good, what you do – oh!” Picard moaned again, helplessly, as Q pushed deeper with his finger, coating Picard’s insides with the slick gel. “I can’t even imagine what it will feel like when you fuck me, Q… not when it feels so good – already. I can’t… oh, fuck!” He groaned, losing his train of thought once more, as Q’s fingertip brushed and pressed lightly against his prostate. Again, he could feel that light pressure against the base of his cock, keeping him from coming too soon. It wasn’t yet necessary. He was no longer a teenager and had come only moments before, and still … god only knew what Q did to him. He felt young, energetic and so aroused.

Q leaned over him, Picard could feel it and he opened his eyes slowly. Their gazes met in the most intimate of moments. As Q positioned himself, and helped his cock into Picard’s slick, well-prepared orifice, they kept looking at each other. It was so intense, that Picard wanted to blink, but he couldn’t, wouldn’t lose this moment, wouldn’t back away from the incredible intimacy of it.

“Q!” he groaned and the entity gasped as he slid all the way inside. That’s when he lost Q’s gaze, when the world turned into a complete blur, and all coherent thought disappeared. Picard could no longer keep his eyes open. He no longer saw Q’s fiery eyes, the flickering candles in the Christmas tree or the thick drapes by the windows. He barely felt the silk sheets glide against his overheated body. All he could sense was the hard, driving length of Q’s cock pumping into him, slowly at first, agonizingly slowly, then faster, at just the right angle, just the right pace and….

“Ah, Mon Dieu!” he groaned. He lost the language he used every day and slipped into the language of his childhood. “C’est merveilleux!”

“That’s it, Jean-Luc,” Q gasped. “Yes, that’s it, that’s it.”

And then the world exploded into a million pieces of light and passion. Pleasure ripped violently through him once more and Picard wondered how it was possible to feel so good, and not be dead. He’d never understood it before. It had never felt so good, but now he knew why they called it ‘Le petit mort’.

Coming back to himself again was more difficult this time. He felt as though he’d lost himself somewhere, and had trouble finding his way back.

“We’ve come a long way, haven’t we, mon capitain?” Q managed to groan before he slid out and fell to the side, exhausted. Picard couldn’t help smiling as Q blinked against the candles in the tree and yawned.

“Indeed we have, Q, “ he said and curiosity began to rear its head again now that he was no longer so aroused that his brain could not function. “Now, about my questions, Q,” Picard began, but he was instantly met by a snore.

“Yes,” he chuckled. “We have certainly come a long way if I managed to wear you out….”

But there would be another day, and Q would answer his questions, or else….

END

SCIENCE FICTION

Stargate SG1 - Jack/Daniel

Author: Ev vy
Title: Christmas is a State of Mind
Rating: PG
Pairing: Jack/Daniel
Summary: It always happens to SG-1. Around Christmas they get stuck off-world.
Show: Stargate SG-1
Date of publication: December 3
Disclaimer: The characters and the idea of the universe definitely not mine. Just playing with them, no harm intended. The plot and the idea mine, all mine.
Feedback address: ev_vy@interia.pl
Advertisement: Part of the Slash Advent Calendar of 2004 at http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Note: The longest thing I've ever written. Not your usual Christmas, but that's SG-1.
Beta: The best, the lovliest and the ever patient Kres. I owe her so much that I'll have to sell myself. All remaining mistakes only mine.

 

Christmas is a State of Mind

When the wormhole swished and disengaged behind them, Jack first made sure he had his balance on the slippery footsteps. Then he looked around, covering the three-sixty with one glance, and turned to his 2IC.

"Carter, tell me again, how often does it rain here?"

Maybe it was the rain dripping from her nose, but he had the impression Carter looked slightly uneasy.

"Well, actually, sir, it doesn't really stop. The level of precipitation is very high, and the planet has no discernible vegetation, at least not in the MALP's range--"

"Ack, enough. In short, lots of mud and no trees. Okay. Daniel, tell me again, why are we here?"

"We…ow…We think we can find information on the Lost City on this planet, Jack. As I have told you a few times already."

"I see. Teal'c, tell me again, what are the chances of finding anything valuable in all this mud?"

"Negligible, O'Neill."

"Right. So, anyone mind telling me what exactly are we doing here?"

"Our job, sir."

Their boots sunk deep in the mud which squelched unpleasantly as they trudged towards the dark shapes whose images the MALP had transmitted just before it had been struck by a lightning. Jack thought it should have been enough to call this mission a bust, but both Daniel and Carter had wheedled the General into letting them investigate. All in all, Jack thought it could turn out to be beneficial as they might even get downtime for Christmas.

"Any plans for the holidays?" Jack asked when the rain subsided enough, so he didn’t have to shout over the incessant fizzle.

Carter beamed. "Yes, sir. Dad's coming to visit Mark. Under fortunate circumstances, I'm going to join them."

"Swell! Pete going to meet his in-laws?"

Daniel sniggered and tried to hide it by wiping his glasses for the umpteenth time. Jack reached and plucked the glasses from Daniel’s hand and put them in his own pocket. Daniel looked at him through narrowed eyes, but said nothing.

"Teal'c? What about you, big guy?" Jack asked, falling in step with Teal'c and watching Daniel whisper something to Carter who whispered back.

"I have no plans for the holidays, O'Neill. I find the custom most perplexing and I have no intention of behaving in such an irrational manner I have observed among the Tau'ri. I hope, however, to visit master Bra'tac and Rya’c."

"We're likely to get downtime for Christmas," Daniel said from behind Jack. "What about you, Jack. Any plans?"

"Oh," Jack waved a hand, "the usual. A big green tree, lots of lights, a whopping big turkey swimming in cranberry sauce.” He smirked over his shoulder at Daniel. "A candle on the window sill, a glass of eggnog in hand and that's it.".

Daniel gave him another narrow-eyed stare. "Do you at least know what's the origin of leaving a lit candle in the window?" he asked. "Too many people follow Christmas customs having no understanding of them. They repeat the same patterns each year not realising the real significance of...."

"Which is probably an extremely fascinating subject, Daniel, but here, we're almost at our destination."

They were in the close vicinity of the shapes that were supposed to be ruins the MALP had picked up before. Jack handed Daniel his glasses and Daniel's expression was a clear indicator that the place wasn’t exactly what he'd expected.

The ruins looked a bit like those houses built against a mountainside where Abydonians had lived in their previous life, only these were destroyed by the rain and the mud. The mountain itself reminded Jack a bit of the Ayers Rock. Not very high, flattish at the top.

"We should investigate the ruins at a closer range, sir," Carter said, looking back and forth between him and Daniel.

"Okay, people. Carter, Teal'c, you go left. Daniel with me, we go right. Report every half hour."

At the foot of the mountain, they separated. Carter and Teal'c were off immediately, while Daniel just stood staring at the remains. "The climate must have changed," he said finally. "The natives wouldn't have built this kind of dwellings if they had been aware of the mudslides. It looks like the houses were built of sun-dried brick, over many years. Then rains began and people moved away. Either before the landslides began, or after."

Jack stood beside him. "Do you think you will find anything here?"

"I don't think so, Jack. If there is anything to find, it has been buried deep under the mud."

Jack's radio crackled. "Sir, be careful. There are thigh-deep holes in the ground hidden under the mud."

"Fall into one, Carter?" Jack asked, waggling his eyebrows at Daniel.

"Indeed, O'Neill. It was quite difficult to extract Major Carter out of the hollow."

"Thanks, Carter. We'll be careful."

"Okay. Carter out."

Jack patted his P-90. "Let's move, Daniel. Maybe you'll get your early Christmas gift."

They walked slowly, feeling the ground with their feet, but they didn't manage to avoid the holes and Daniel found himself burrowed waist-deep in one. Jack couldn't hide his grin.

"Quit laughing and give me a hand, Jack."

"Yeah, yeah." Jack dumped his backpack and reached out to Daniel. He strained his muscles and pulled, but Daniel was heavy with his own weight and the mud, and it was impossible to move him even an inch.

Jack straightened up and reached for his radio. "I'll call for Teal'c. I don't think I can you pull you up myself."

Daniel's eyes became incredibly big.  "Jack... I think there's something here. Something's moving against my leg."

Jack dug his heels into the mud and pulled, his fingers clutched tightly around Daniel's wrists. He managed to drag Daniel up a few inches, but he lost his footing and had to let go. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed Daniel's wrists again and hauled him out of the hole.. They both fell down, Daniel on top of Jack. As Daniel scrambled to his feet, Jack saw a giant slug stuck to Daniel's boot.

"Now that's yucky.” Jack crouched and peered closer at the slug. "Looks like a giant leech. Or a remora."

"A remora?" Daniel looked away, wincing.

"Oh, you know. That fish or something that sticks to the belly of a shark."

"I know what a remora is, Jack."

"Yeah, I'm sure you do. I get National Geographic Channel, too. By the way," Jack gestured towards the leech, "don't you want to get it off?"

Daniel threw him a sceptical look. "And how do you propose I do that?"

"I don't know.” Jack shrugged. "I thought you did."

Daniel froze. "Well... No, Jack, I don't."

Jack leaned to grab the slug. He pulled, but it didn't give way. He stared at the slug, then at Daniel. "Well, I think we’ll have to cut it off."

A few moments later, Jack threw the slug away and inspected the hole it managed to make in Daniel's boot. "It has teeth," he commented.

Daniel looked at the slug and then at Jack. "So, it's either carnivorous or parasitic. Either way, it has to feed on something."

"Animals? People?"

"Both, I suppose. It might not have been a climate change in the end." Daniel's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Jack, it makes sense. Just think about it. It was dry and people moved here. They built their houses. Then the rain started. Maybe they thought they could wait it out, but it was raining constantly. Rain, mudslides and the slugs forced them to move. The slugs are so well adapted to this weather that they probably hibernated when it was dry. They fed on people and domestic animals. It's probable that this planet still has inhabitants."

"Daniel, I don't want to burst your bubble, but they might have left through the Gate."

"Maybe, but we should look for other dwellings, more removed--"

"Sir, it's Carter," Jack's radio said. "We're fine, but we haven't found anything interesting."

"Neither have we. But be extra cautious. There are some kind of giant leeches in those holes. One ate through Daniel's boot."

"We will be, sir."

"And look for any kinds of human activity. Daniel says that there still can be people on this planet."

"Yes, sir. Carter out."

"We won't look for any more dwellings today, Daniel. We're going back home. You can draw a request to Hammond for another mission."

"Jack..."

"No, Daniel. It's cold, wet, and it's Christmas in less than two days. And I still need to buy that tree."

The rain had intensified, and the visibility had gotten much worse. Jack's mood coincided with the rain, and he counted minutes until the next radio-in. Daniel had tried to climb up the mountain to get to the higher-located remains, but each time he had slid down so he gave up.

Jack fell into a shallow hole, just up to his knees and Daniel immediately grabbed his hand to get him out. Jack wanted to say something, but Daniel continued on, even when there were no more ruins. It seemed that the mountain did remind the Ayers Rock, and they were slowly going around it.

Suddenly, Daniel stopped and Jack bumped into him. He didn't hurry to move away, and it was Daniel who finally stepped back. "There seems to be a cave up there, Jack."

Jack squinted his eyes against the rain and looked where Daniel pointed with his finger. There was an opening in the mountainside and a path leading to it that looked like carved steps. The mud and soil were washed away, and only solid rock remained.

Jack keyed the radio. "Carter, how far away from us do you think you are?"

There was a pause. "I'm not sure, sir. But it shouldn't be more than half an hour."

"Good. There are stairs carved in the mountainside. When you get to them, climb up. We'll be waiting upstairs."

"You've found something, sir?" Carter sounded a bit more excited that during the previous radio-in.

"We might have. We don’t know yet, but we'll meet you there. O'Neill out. Let's go, Daniel."

They climbed up slowly. The steps were slippery, but there were places where they could hold with their hands, and Jack was very grateful for them.

They were halfway up when Carter's panicked voice broke through the rain. "Sir, we need help! Teal'c fell into one of those holes but it's much deeper and he's sinking in!"

"We're coming down, Carter! Can you see us?"

"No, sir! Please, hurry up! I don't think I can hold him for much longer."

"We're going. O'Neill out!"

Climbing down was much more difficult and they were taking much longer to do it, and Jack mostly concentrated on not falling down.

"Jack?"

"Don't talk, Daniel. We have no time."

Long minutes later they got to the bottom of the stairs and ran. It took a few even longer minutes to locate Carter and Teal'c. They both plunged to the ground and caught Teal'c's clothes. His face was barely above the surface of the mud. They pulled, but the mud didn't give.

"O'Neill."

Jack nodded. "Carter, Daniel, I'm holding Teal'c. Get up, grab my legs and pull."

A few moments later, they managed to pull Teal'c up, so that his neck was visible.

"Carter, sit on my legs. Daniel, get the rope and try to put it under his arms."

Carter's weight on his legs and Teal'c's weight on his arms were a strain, and it wasn't the first time Jack thought he should finally quit. Daniel tied the rope and Carter moved to help him. Jack's felt his legs even more.

"Teal'c, I'm going to let you go. And then we'll all haul you out."

"Yes, O'Neill. I don't doubt you will."

Teal'c was shivering when they finally managed to haul him up, and there were a couple of slugs stuck to his arms, legs and torso. Jack drew his knife and started to cut them off. Carter joined him and soon they could see bleeding holes in Teal'c's uniform.

"Okay, help me put up a tent. I'll get him warm and you both will go back to the Gate to get help!"

Carter and Daniel left most of their gear behind. Jack took all four sleeping bags and blankets. He zipped two sleeping bags together and laid the other two and the blankets over.

"T, let's get you out of these clothes first."

"I believe I can do it myself, O'Neill."

"I know, but together we'll do it faster."

When Teal'c was only in his briefs, Jack pulled a blanket over his shoulders. He got the medical kit and started to clean Teal'c's wounds. They weren't deep, but their edges were irregular and the skin was eaten out. When all were cleaned and bandaged, Jack helped Teal'c to get in the sleeping bag.

He thought of getting beside Teal'c immediately, but they both needed something warm. He got the burner working and put on the water from his canteen. Hot coffee wasn't Teal'c favourite beverage but it was all they had. Teal'c was putting on a brave face, which was actually the only one he had, but the cold and the blood loss were already showing their impact and Jack had to help him sit up.

They sipped the coffee and Jack wished he had something stronger. It would get them both warm quickly, and it would be easier to keep warm together.

Jack stripped to his boxers and clambered in next to Teal'c. "Okay, big man. Let's get you all cosy." He spooned against Teal'c back and tried not to think how cold Teal'c's skin was. The sleeping bags were getting warm too slowly for Jack's liking, and he almost cursed Carter and Daniel for insisting on this mission. But it hadn't been their fault -- Jack hadn't seen the danger either.

Jack's radio buzzed waking him up. "Jack, we're screwed."

"Daniel? Carter?"

"Sir, we're on our way back. Gate and the surrounding area are in a slight depression. The water washed down the mud and soil. There's no way we can reach the DHD or the Stargate."

"Did you report to Hammond?"

"No, sir. I think they couldn't get a lock."

"What the hell happened? It's only been a few hours!"

"There's a river nearby, Jack. It must have overflowed."

"How long will it take you to get here?"

"About half an hour. We tried to radio you in earlier, but the rain is disturbing the waves. It was really pouring down, Jack."

"Sir, we'll have to hide in that cave."

"Teal'c is too weak to climb up."

"I am not, O'Neill."

"We'll think about it when you get your asses over here. O'Neill out."

Teal'c's skin was warm, but he was faintly grey under the brown and the wasn't a good sign in Jack's book.

"T, can you sit up on your own?"

"I cannot, O'Neill. I believe those creatures must have injected a muscle relaxant into my bloodstream."

"Damn! Why haven't you said so earlier?"

"It would not have made a difference."

"Oh, for..."

Jack scrambled out of the sleeping bag and pulled on his wet pants and an almost dry t-shirt. He put on his poncho and left of the tent. He was grateful for the zipper being a few good inches from the floor of the tent. The level of the mud was higher and Jack could see a couple of slugs moving around. It was slowly getting dark, the rain turned to light drizzle and the cold seeped into Jack's bones and into the tent.

When he went back into the tent, Teal'c was dozing. Jack shook him.

"I'm making coffee, T-man. And you're not going back to sleep."

"I am not fond of coffee, O'Neill."

"I know, but we have to keep your blood pressure up. Doctor Jack's orders."

Teal’c inclined his head, which might have even indicated amusement. "Very well, Doctor Jack."

Jack helped Teal'c to drink his coffee and fed him a power-bar. He then slid back into the sleeping bag. He lay in the dark with his back against Teal'c's, thinking that the whole picture was wrong, the planet was wrong, and they all should be back on earth preparing for whatever they had in plans for Christmas.

"Teal'c? Are you asleep?"

"Not any longer, O'Neill."

"Got to keep you awake. Do you celebrate any holidays on Chula'c?"

"Indeed, we do."

"Well, that's succinct. Care to elaborate? You have anything like Christmas, perhaps?"

"We do not, O'Neill. We do however have other holidays that may interest you. I do not think that human sacrifice is common in the Tau'ri rituals..." He couldn't see but he could almost hearTeal'c smiling. That bastard.

"Okay, let's not talk about your holidays then. How are you feeling?"

"I can move my extremities."

"That's good. I'll help you to turn to your back. You can't stay in the same position all the time."

Jack tried to make Tealc' as comfortable as possible, but he supposed it didn't matter much. He felt pressure on his bladder and realised that Teal'c soon might be in a similar need. He'd have to wait until Daniel and Carter arrived, because there was no way Jack could haul Teal'c out of the tent on his own. He put on his boots and poncho only and went out into the rain to relieve himself.

Teal'c started humming and Jack was about to ask him what the song was about, but then he heard Daniel's voice on the radio and he hurried back in.

"Daniel?"

"Jack, can you see our torches?"

He stuck his head out of the tent and saw two rays of light moving in the darkness.

"Yeah. I can see them. I'll light you a candle."

Jack was already fully dressed when the very wet and muddy Daniel and Carter finally got to the tent.

"Sir, we have to wait it out." Carter sounded tired.

"Yes, we do. But not here. You get into the tent, rest and get warm. I'm going to get our gear to that cave and then we'll carry Teal'c."

"Jack-"

"No other options, Daniel. I'm going. I've repacked your backpacks, and all you have to carry up will be the tent and the sleeping gear."

Carter and Daniel were too tired to argue with him.

He finally set off, thinking it was good he couldn't see what was immediately around his feet, and he hoped he walked fast enough for the slugs to miss him. He wished he had a stick to check his way for the holes, but he didn't have one and the less he thought about it the better.

When he reached the stairs, he was already tired. Climbing up took him much longer than he expected by the pace they had previously set with Daniel. When he got to the top, all Jack wanted to do was to fall face down and never get up again.

The cave was dry, not very large and there were markings on the walls. Something rustled in the dark fissures, and Jack hoped these were some harmless, little critters that didn't feed on other warm-blooded beings. He could deal with rats, bats, but not with any blood-suckers.

He shed his backpack, all the weapons and set out on his way back. There would be time to rest and now he was sure that if he sat down he would be able to get up again.

The torch he had tied at the top of the tent was still alight, and he quickened his pace to finish the last leg as quickly as possible. Ha almost fell into one of those damn holes, but once he felt that he had no ground to step on, he yanked his leg back and he fell onto his side. He scrambled to his feet and checked that none of the slugs managed to stick to him.

All three of them were asleep when Jack finally got to the tent.

"Wake up, campers!"

Daniel looked at him with bleary eyes, but Carter and Tealc' were immediately alert. Well, as alert as they could be under the circumstances.

"We're changing lodgings to something less cosy, but definitely drier. Carter, Daniel, get dressed. You'll help me to dress Teal'c and you'll tie him to my back. You'll pull down the tent, pack the blankets and follow me."

"Jack, you can't carry Teal'c up the mountain."

"And who else is going to do it? Carter? You?"

"Why not me?" Daniel was still fumbling with his glasses.

"Because I'm the one giving orders here.  Let's get to work, kids."

"O'Neill."

"Don't thank me yet, Teal'c."

"I had no intention of doing so. I merely want to suggest that Daniel Jackson and Major Carter tie us back to back."

Teal'c's weight was more than Jack had anticipated and his knees almost gave way. With desperate effort, he straightened up and didn't look at Daniel or Carter to avoid the doubt that had to be on their faces.

"As soon as you round everything up, follow me. You'll provide back-up."

Rain had mercifully stopped, but the slugs were more visible in the torchlight. One thing Jack was grateful for was that they weren't snakes. Teal'c's boots dragged in the mud and slowed Jack down, but he trudged on and urged Daniel to hurry up.

Jack started climbing, and with each slow step Teal'c was getting heavier. Jack almost slipped once and he almost closed his eyes and let go, but he heard Daniel's voice.

"Jack, I'm right behind you. Keep going."

Jack would have answered, but he didn't want to waste his breath when he was so short of it. Hopefully his heart wouldn't give up on him now if hadn't done it before when he had almost expected it to.

Finally, he had to take a short break. "I'm stopping."

"Jack, I'm going to put Teal'c's legs on my shoulders."

"No, you won't."

"Yes, I will."

"Sir," Carter chimed in. "You should let Daniel help you."

"Indeed."

Jack was breathing heavily and willing his heart to slow down. Dark blotches danced in front of his eyes and he blinked a few times. If that could get rid of them. "All right. Just hurry up."

The weight lessened, but they had to synchronise their moves, and that was getting increasingly difficult, as sweat was pouring into Jack's eyes and all he could think of was the pain in his muscles.

He didn't know how much time had passed until they got to the top. Daniel and Carter had muttered some reassuring words, but he wasn't even sure if they were directed at him. He had grunted an answer few times, but he supposed he'd done it in the wrong places.

In the end, he didn't know how he found himself sitting in the cave, leaning against he wall, and Daniel was massaging his knees. Teal'c was already wrapped in Carter, blankets and sleeping bags. The smell of standard issue MREs was a clear sign they had already eaten, and Daniel was now pushing a hot cup of perfectly bad coffee into his hand.

"Daniel?"

"You passed out, Jack."

"How's Teal'c?"

"Better. He's sleeping."

"Why aren't you?"

"You need to eat something." Daniel took a power-bar out of his pocket and tore the wrapping.

"Thanks." Jack bit into the bar and only then he felt how empty his stomach was. He had to slow down or the food would quickly find its way back up.

"I'll help you undress and get in the sleeping bag," Daniel said. "We have to keep everything in the backpacks; there are rats in this cave." He paused and tilted his head. "Or they look like rats and they aren't afraid of us. They tried to get to our supplies, but they didn't chew through the fabric."

"You don't suppose they'll try to feed on us?"

"I don't think so, Jack. But I think they like those slugs."

Jack grinned. "You're pulling my leg."

"No, I'm not. I found some remains. Sam said they're likely to wait until it's drier and catch those that didn't manage to dig deep into the ground and got stuck on the surface."

"We're not that different from those slugs. We're meat. One of us has to keep watch."

"I'll take the first one."

"Sorry, Jack, already taken." Daniel's expression was smug.

"Wake me for the second, then."

Daniel nodded, but he didn’t say anything.

Jack batted Daniel's hands away and undressed on his own. The sleeping bag was cold inside, but it would get warm soon.

He was woken by Daniel sliding into the sleeping bag. He felt his cold body pressing against his and shivered.

"Jack? Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to wake you..."

"You were supposed to."

"Sam has taken the second shift. Go back to sleep. Here,” Daniel chuckled softly and spooned against Jack. "I hope you don't mind, but I think I've frozen some bits off."

Carter snorted in the dark. "Just don't tell us which bits, Daniel. That would be TMI."

Jack felt slightly awkward when Daniel sneaked his hand around Jack's torso. His heart beat faster and he knew Daniel could feel it. Especially when Daniel took Jack's hand and squeezed it. On an impulse, before Daniel let go, Jack squeezed back and didn't let go.

"Thanks for the candle, Jack," Daniel whispered into his ear.

~*~

Jack woke with a start, and Daniel was no longer in the sleeping bag. He glanced at Teal'c who was sitting propped against a wall and feeding the resident rat lookalikes with a crumbled power-bar.

Jack opened his mouth, but Teal'c was first. "I know, O'Neill, but Major Carter is hopeful. It has not been raining since last night."

"How are you?"

"Considerably well. I can move my arms, but my legs are still immobile."

"That's great, big guy. Daniel and Carter?"

"I'm here, Jack."

Jack turned to see Daniel who was busily copying the markings on the wall to his notebook. Trust the man to find a writing in the most unlikely place.

"And where's Carter?"

"I'm here, sir." Carter entered the cave, cutting off the sunlight. "It's amazing, but the change in weather has been incredibly abrupt, and it has been getting considerably warmer and drier over the last couple of hours. I've been taking samples of the soil, it seems that it's rich in minerals and we should send here a team of geologists."

"Carter, slow down. What about the Gate?"

"Well, sir, I think we have to wait until the ground dries and then try to dig up the Gate and the DHD."

"How long will it take?"

"I'm not sure, sir. But I don't think the mud is dry and stable enough yet. I suppose we should wait a day or two, provided that it doesn't rain."

"The slugs?"

"Hidden deep."

"Good. Daniel, what about those daubs?"

Daniel glanced up from his notebook. "They're not exactly paintings nor iconographic symbols. I think it's a kind of language, but I haven't nailed it yet. The origins seem to be Sumerian, but so far I haven't been able to decipher anything."

"You've got your early Christmas present then," Jack smiled. "Two days to stare at the daubs to your heart's content."

Daniel just gave him a look, and went back to his notes.

"Coffee, sir?" Carter was putting on water.

"Yeah. Make a double for Daniel there. Teal'c?"

"O'Neill. No more of this vile beverage. I incline towards water."

"Sure you do." Jack cracked a grin. He stood up and stretched feeling every muscle in his body. They all hurt like hell. "Let’s grab some breakfast. We’ll check on the Gate later. Carter, you go with me. We'll let the old guy rest and the geek guy work."

"Yes, sir."

At the bottom of the stairs Jack thought that it was much more difficult to come down today than to climb up yesterday. The thought of the long walk to the Gate was painful itself, but Jack couldn't let his muscles stiffen.

"Lead the way, Carter."

They walked briskly, or at least as briskly as the conditions allowed them to. Neither of them wanted to risk what happened to Teal'c, and the sun of this planet seemed to be in zenith. Jack didn't mind really, everything was better than the rain.

Carter was silent; she seemed a bit tired still, and Jack was grateful as he didn't feel like talking at all. He wanted to go back home, get a glass of good alcohol, or a whole bottle, come to think of it, drink as much of it as he could and then do a fair imitation of a sea anemone.

He really wanted to have a tree at home, to decorate it, prepare a nice meal and pretend that he could have real Christmas. He wasn't kidding about the candle, he'd light it and probably wait in vain. Sara would probably call with Christmas wishes, Cassie maybe too if she remembered.

"Carter? How do you usually spend Christmas?" he asked surprising himself, but then found that he really wanted to know.

She smiled, glancing over her shoulder. "Well, sir, I usually work."

"You don't visit your family?"

"Yes. If I have a chance. But they've been scarce in the recent years."

"What presents did you buy this year?"

"Well, I have gifts for the team, for General Hammond, Janet, Cassie, my dad, Mark, his wife and his two kids."

"You had a list?"

"Yes, sir." She gave him a wide-eyed look. "How did you know?"

He just smirked. "And let me guess, you already had them bought long before Christmas."

"Yes, sir." Carter beamed at him. "I like to be prepared."

"But I asked you what you bought."

"Oh, I won't tell. Will you, sir?"

"No, Carter, I won't."

"You must have rubbed off on me, sir."

"I must've."

They were silent again.

"Any special traditions?" he asked after a prolonging while.

"No, sir. Just plain American Christmas. I remember mom had a surprise for us each year, but later--"

Carter looked away and Jack winced. He managed to make room in his mouth for his boot.

"I'm sorry, sir," she said after a while.

"Nothing to be sorry about, Carter. Let's hurry up."

They were silent until they reached the Gate. It protruded about two thirds over the level of the mud the surface of which had already dried. Jack thought they should get as close as possible and remove the top layer for the mud to dry deeper.

Carter apparently thought the same as she started checking the depth of the mud. Thigh-deep she couldn’t go any further. "Sir, I'm going to put one of our ponchos over the mud and crawl over it. I'm going to tie a rope around my ankles and you'll have to keep hold of it."

"You think we could get the Gate going if we dialled the DHD?"

"I don't know, sir. The SGC didn't get a lock although the mud wasn't thick enough to stop the Gate from moving."

"Maybe the DHD has to be working properly."

Carter opened her eyes wide. "It might be possible. When Felger infected the system with his virus, no one could get a lock because it spread through the DHDs. In this case, we definitely need to uncover the DHD, for either side to connect."

"Then let's get to work. The sooner we finish the sooner we can explore the area on the other side of the Gate."

Both of them had mud in all possible places when Carter finished removing the top layer. She'd finished when it had become clear that the mud was flowing into the whole faster than she had been able to remove it. She hoped the hole would hold and the next day they'd be able to dig deeper.

They both lay for a while in the mud, resting and warming up in the sun. Jack found himself missing the snow and imagined his truck snowed completely under. Just a big drift of snow. But the Security Forces would keep it black and gleaming, probably under Hammond's orders who'd want Jack and his team back home safely. Poor guy.

"Sir, I think Daniel was right, there must be a river out there. It overflowed and flooded the gate."

Jack looked over at her. "Well, at least we can get clean and replenish our water supplies. I wonder if there are fish in this river."

"If I'd accepted your invitation to fishing in Minnesota, I might be even able to help you, sir." Carter smirked at him.

"You'd have only gotten bored, eaten by mosquitoes. Teal'c wasn't convincing enough?"

Carter's smile faltered a little, but it came back with full force. "He was, sir. Succinctly so."

"There you go." Jack got up, stretching. "Okay, Carter. Point me towards that river and keep in radio contact while I'll try to catch some dinner."

The river wasn't that far away, and Jack didn't even have to traverse too much mud to get there. The makeshift fishing-rod had no real rod even, but the fish hadn't apparently tasted standard issue power-bars because they kept taking the bait like mad. When Carter came back, Jack had a nice stack of fish at his side.

She smiled as she approached him. "I'm impressed, sir."

Jack grinned. "Some people fast on Christmas Eve, so we can almost feel at home."

The way back was definitely quicker as Jack didn't feel too tired when they reached the top of the stairs. Daniel still had his nose in his notebook but he was nibbling at a power-bar. Teal'c was meditating, but he opened one eye to acknowledge he heard them return.

Jack waggled a fish in front of Daniel, who looked up, startled. He squinted at the fish and gave Jack a sly smile."To think I didn't believe you'd actually caught one fish in your whole life."

Jack feigned offence. "I'm hurt, Daniel. You're not getting dinner."

"I'll ask Sam to share." Daniel was now grinning unrepentantly.

"Carter, Daniel equals no fish tonight. That's an order."

"Daniel Jackson may partake of my portion."

"Et tu, Teal’c? No one listens to me any longer," Jack grumbled under his nose and chose the biggest fish to scale and bone it.

Carter sat at Daniel's back and watched him. "That's icky," she finally said, grimacing.

Jack looked up, hands full of fish, scales and guts. "Never done it before, Carter?"

"Dad tried to teach me but he gave up when I puked all over the fish."

"Any other pleasant memories from your childhood? When did you stop believing in Santa, Carter?"

"I don't remember exactly, sir," Carter said, sitting opposite Jack and leaning against the wall. "I think I was about seven. Mom took me to the mall, I saw all the Santas. There were a few of them and I was completely disillusioned. I couldn't believe that there was in fact the real one."

Jack nodded knowingly. "What about you, Daniel?"

Daniel didn't even look up from the notebook. "I'm working, Jack."

"Oh, come on, don't spoil the mood. When did you stop believing in Santa?"

"I think I never believed in one." Daniel peered closely at the wall and then, with a critical expression, at his writing.

"Never?" Carter turned to look at Daniel over her shoulder.

Daniel scribbled some more. Then he sighed and put down the pen.

"My parents didn't believe in this sort of... nonsense," he said tightly. "And later, how could I believe if they weren't there? My foster parents were great, but not convincing enough."

Jack looked up to see Daniel's slumping shoulders and at this very moment he decided he was going to drag Daniel to his home; they were going to buy a big, green tree sticky with resin, decorate it, eat the turkey and drink some homemade eggnog. Probably with more nog than egg.

"Oh, come on, Daniel. How can you not believe in a guy with a fake beard and cushion-stuffed belly?" Carter asked.

"I fail to understand why adults get so excited expecting this Santa to come," Teal’c added from under the far wall.

Carter sniggered and Daniel laughed out loud. Jack gave them a look.

"T, if you aren't there, you won't understand. That's the idea of Christmas spirit. How's your spirit, by the way?"

"Better, O'Neill." To illustrate his point, Teal'c got up and stretched. "I believe I will take a walk."

Jack spread another fish on the makeover rack. "Don't be long, dinner's almost ready."

"I shall be back soon."

When the fish were frying, Jack looked at his team and it occurred to him that he was lucky to be here with them. He thought they should meet up on Boxing Day, but he wasn't even sure they'd be back on earth by that time. He turned over the fish and caught Daniel staring at him.

He stared back and Daniel didn’t look away. Daniel’s look was intense, and Jack wanted to say something, to respond to that look, maybe ask if Daniel...

But then Carter said she was hungry, so Jack broke the eye contact and started giving out their portions. With their bellies full they sipped at their coffee, and no one said anything until Teal'c asked, "Will you tell me more of your customs?"

"What would you like to know?"

"We could share some nice memories from our childhoods, sir."

"I suppose so." Jack shrugged. "Okay. So on Christmas Eve -- that is today, T -- my parents would take me to the Midnight Mass. They were Catholic, so we attended the Mass every year. When I was a small kid, I  would just fall asleep and wake up on the next morning. When I was older, my parents bribed me with a promise that I could open one present when we'd come back home if I didn't drop off. The bribe worked, needless to say."

"Your parents had an unusual way of bringing you up," Daniel commented with a smile.

"They sure did, my folks! What about you, Carter?"

"Mark always argued with me who was going to decorate the tree and put the angel on the top. My parents always tried to be just so we alternated and each year we tried to convince mom and dad that last year it was the other one that put the angel on the treetop and this year it was definitely my turn. My parents couldn't agree who did put it there, and one of us always ended up crying. But mom wanted to make up for it and prepared a sweet desert that I still love. Egg-yolk, sugar and cocoa mixed together. Yummy!"

She paused, took a deeper breath and continued, "But it wasn't the same later, when my mother died. Dad was devastated and I tried to make him happy. He tried to make me happy, and Mark fell out of the equation along the way."

Teal'c inclined his head in apology. "I am sorry, Major Carter, that my request have stirred unhappy memories."

"They're not unhappy, Teal'c. They simply are." Her smile was reassuring. But more to herself, Jack thought.

Daniel put his hand around Carter's shoulders and hugged her briefly. She leaned into the touch and laid her head against him.

"Your turn, Daniel," he said, turning his attention from Daniel's arm to his face.

"Jack..."

"Daniel. Go on. Amuse Teal'c."

Daniel sighed disapprovingly. He shifted against Carter and quietly said, "When I was about ten and got finally settled with my foster family, they decided to get me something every child dreams of."

Jack interrupted with a smile. "A dog! Wise people."

"Yes, Jack." Daniel stared somewhere above Jack's shoulder. He spoke up a little, "I opened the squealing box and took out the fluffiest dog in existence. Which promptly peed on me. I wasn't discouraged though, and I hugged the furball, squeezed it, and was the happiest child ever until I started sneezing like mad and broke out in a rash. Turned out I was allergic to dogs too. We ended up in hospital, but my foster parents never uttered a single complaint and the dog led a happy life with our neighbours."

Daniel ended with a huge grin directed at him, and Jack thought that he wanted to hear more stories from Daniel's childhood, because he wanted to know if Daniel had been happy. If Daniel had ever been as happy as he'd been on Abydos.

Carter started humming and Jack recognised The First Noel and joined in singing. Carter switched to singing too, and she could really sing so Jack just tuned to her and was able to save all their ears. He couldn't sing on his own, but at singing in chorus he wasn't bad.

They sang Silent Night and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and even Jingle Bells which Daniel sang with them, and not for the first time Jack noticed that Daniel had a very nice voice. He rarely listened to what Daniel was saying, but he did listen to how Daniel was saying it. He knew very cadence in Daniel's voice and exactly when to start actually listening, because Daniel was going to say something important. He didn't know Carter's voice that well. Nor Teal'c's.

Later, when the fire was out, they all lay down and soon Jack could hear three steady breaths, but he couldn't sleep. Lying in his own sleeping bag, he missed the feel of Daniel's body next to him. It was warm, but not comfortably so, and Jack wanted it to be cold, with huge drifts of snow. He would push Daniel into the snow, shoved the snow behind Daniel's collar and watch him sputter helplessly. And then, they would both burst out laughing, because it would feel so damn good.

He shook off the images and sneaked out of the cave and sat at the top step. He thought he could hear breathing and faint rustling of the rat-creatures, but it was more what he expected to hear, because the night was eerily quiet.

When Jack heard a rustle in the cave, he didn't turn. The critters were probably trying to nibble at something. Or someone. He smiled to his thoughts. The rustle got louder and than he heard bare feet on the stone floor. The sound stopped and Jack turned to check who had been making it. Against the dark opening of the cave there was a darker shade who turned out to be Daniel. Daniel who sat next to him and Jack felt the rough fabric of a blanket against his thigh.

The night was colder outside than inside and Jack shivered. Daniel wriggled and Jack felt him put the blanket over both their backs. The silence was being broken only by their breathing. The planet sounded dead, but they all knew better than that.

"Thanks for the candle, Jack."

"You're welcome."

Daniel's shoulder bumped against his, and Jack didn't move away. They sat like this until Daniel's head fell on Jack's shoulder. Jack thought they should get back inside and lie down, but he still sat there and found Daniel's hand in the dark and held it. It was warm and callused. In different places than Jack's hand though. It was a hand of someone who held a pen or a brush in his hand more often than a gun. Jack traced the calluses with fingers, but stopped when Daniel moved.

"Let's go inside," Daniel said , but he didn't move an inch and he didn't take his hand away.

So they sat for a while longer. Jack listened to Daniel's steady breathing and smiled when he felt it against his neck when Daniel wiggled. Jack's butt was slowly getting numb, but he wasn't going to complain.

End.

FANTASY

Smallville - Clark/Lex

Title: Wishful Thinking
Author: HYPERFocused
Fandom:Smallville
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Rating: R
A/N: For the Slash Advent Calendar. Vague spoilers for Bound. 2500 words.


It was Christmas, and Clark had been back from his first semester at Met U for a week now. Clark hoped for an uneventful holiday, with no need to rescue anyone, or have a big fight with anyone that he’d later regret.. And by “anyone”, he meant Lex, who had made himself scarce since Clark’s entrance into Metropolis life.

Sure, he’d sent a great “welcome to Met U” package, but he hadn’t come to visit Clark in his dorm. The package was a testament to how well Lex knew him, with everything from Clark’s favorite junk food, to DVDs that weren’t supposed to be out yet, to a list of the best hangouts near campus to an impeccable fake I.D. The card had a post-it note attached that read “I was hoping I’d be the one to corrupt you, but that’s probably not such a good idea, considering your feelings about me and the company I keep.” Ouch.

Clark’s feelings about Lex’s company had been an unfair mix of righteous indignation, and flat out jealousy. If he was honest with himself, it was mostly the latter. A few months at college, surrounded by a wider variety of people than he’d known in Smallville, and he discovered how insulated and prejudiced his upbringing had made him.

He longed to make things up with Lex. They’d been squabbling so much that last year. He hated it, and knew it was mostly his fault. He’d been such a dick to Lex, blaming him for things Lex couldn’t control, and making the stuff he could seem worse than it was. How was who Lex had dated -- or even had sex with -- any of his business. It’s not like Lex was dating him. Clark just wanted him to be. He’d thought that once he was off to college, he could be more honest with Lex. Tell him how he felt, and maybe even tell him everything. He’d be an adult then, free to make his own decisions.

But he’d burned his bridges so thoroughly, he wasn’t sure Lex would want him as a friend again, much less anything more. He just wished he could go back and fix things somehow. Still, he was glad to be back in Smallville, and happy to be spending time with his Mom and Dad.

He was also glad for the time to catch up with old friends. Pete was staying at his dad’s new apartment -- still resentful that it was a LexCorp subsidiary, but even he had to admit the place was nice, and the rent reasonable. Sure, Clark saw him at school, but they really ran in different circles. Pete had made new friends after he’d moved away from Smallville, and he spent a lot of time with them. Clark wondered how much of that was because being around him made Pete uncomfortable.

Chloe was back, too, from Columbia. He’d really missed her, and was surprised when she’d elected to go so far away to school. He couldn’t blame her for wanting to get away from some unpleasant memories, though. If she had known as much about him as Pete did, he could have zipped over to go see her once in awhile, but Chloe didn’t know his secret.

Once, in a real fit of freshman woes, he had done just that, feeling lonely, and wanting to see her bright familiar grin. Watching her walk out of class, full bookbag on one shoulder, talking animatedly to some guy with orange dreadlocks, just made him miss her more. He didn’t approach her, just sped back home again. He’d called Lois, and they got together for coffee, but it wasn’t the same.

Knowing she would make enough to feed an army, Clark had asked his mom if it would be all right, then invited everyone over for cookies and pie after their dinners. They would probably want to spend the first part of the holiday with their own families, but no one could resist his mom’s baking. Chloe and Gabe, Lois and the General, Lana and Jason, and Pete had all said yes. It would almost be like things used to be.

He just wished Lex could come, but no, he hadn’t even answered Clark’s calls. Clark didn’t even know officially if he was in town, except he’d gone by the mansion, and spied him through the walls. Lex hated Christmas, and Clark just wished he could fix that for him. But he couldn’t, if Lex wouldn’t even talk to him.

But there wasn’t time to worry about that now. He had to help his mom set up for dinner, and carry all the food to the table. He’d even made the candied sweet potatoes himself, using his heat vision to toast the marshmallow topping. It was going to be delicious.

His dad said a prayer thanking God that they were all “safe, healthy, and together,” and then began to carve the bird. As he sliced into it, Clark began feeling -- oddly. It was a good thing he had super-speed, or he’d never have made it to the bathroom on time. Now he knew how Pete felt after his fraternity initiation.

He’d never considered the need to x-ray his mother’s turkey before he dug in to the crispy, juicy leg she’d saved just for him, but in retrospect he should have. Once he was done visiting the slightly cracked blue and white tile floor, he edged back towards the dining room, making sure to keep his distance from the table, and gave the evil bird an X-ray. Just as he suspected, there were tiny flecks of glowing green all over the bird. So much for buying local organic poultry. They should have gone with Butterball. Why anyone would want to use Kryptonite on a turkey he had no idea, but Clark doubted it had happened by accident.

Come to think of it, Grant Organics, Smallville’s newest turkey farm had come on the scene rather suddenly, and become hugely popular in a ridiculously short span of time. Chloe and Pete and their families were having Grant’s turkey as well, even though Pete’s family usually had ham, and Gabe liked to order the ready made kits from the grocery store. He did well making leftover turkey casseroles, but wasn’t so good with cooking the whole bird.

Clark had only eaten one bite, and now he was sick. His first Christmas home since starting his freshman year at Metropolis University, and he was spending it curled up on his bed, feeling all too human, but wishing he was human enough to die. It was completely baffling, because of course Clark didn’t get sick, and if a solid Kryptonite bullet hadn’t quite done the trick, Clark doubted that Kryptonite laced turkey would either.

He was pretty sure he’d gotten it all out of his system, and just needed to lie down for a while to get his energy back up. He’d be fine by the time his company came. If not, he could fake it. Only Pete would realize how weird it was that he wasn’t up to snuff, and he’d never say anything.

His mom popped her head in. “Sweetie, I’m so sorry. We had no idea.”

“I know, Mom. It’s okay. I’ll be fine. At least now I know what it’s like to throw up.”

“That really isn’t something I anticipated you needing to know, honey.”

“Well, if I ever have to write about a flu outbreak, or a frat party...” Clark smiled weakly.

“I guess you are starting to feel better. You’re already cracking jokes.”

“Yeah, I’ll be all right. Did dad get rid of the turkey? ‘Cause you know, it’s probably safe for you guys. And I know how much you like making wishes on the wishbone.”

“The only thing I wish for is that you and your father are happy and safe, and I’ve already got that. Your dad threw it away. There’s plenty of other food.”

“I’m sorry, Mom. I ruin everything.” She shook her head. Clark sat up and leaned into his mother’s welcome hug. She always knew how to make him feel better.

“No you don’t. You know that. Hey, I got sick on Christmas once when I was a little girl. All over the snow in my back yard, in front of my friends. Speaking of which, yours will be here soon. Do you think you feel well enough now to come back to dinner?”

Clark nodded. He felt fine now, physically. But knowing there was some new Krypto thing out there made him worry. At least nothing weird seemed to be happening with his parents. He hoped the same would be true for his friends.

By the time the doorbell rang an hour later, he knew he wasn’t so lucky. First, it was Pete. At least it was supposed to be Pete. But the young man who appeared at his door was at least six inches taller than his friend. He seemed the same otherwise, but he could almost look Clark in the eye. The supermodel on his arm was a giveaway too. Clark vaguely recalled seeing her on Pete’s dorm wall.

“What the... Pete, did you have a sudden growth spurt? And who’s your new girlfriend?” Clark asked as they walked in.

“It was the weirdest thing. I’d just finished eating, and my brother and I were splitting the wishbone. Suddenly there she was. Isn’t she great? Her name’s Anneka.” He put his arm around her, giving her a little kiss.

“Yes, I remember her from your closet door. Well, come on in.” They’d figure it all out later. He just hoped she wouldn’t try to kill them all.

Chloe and Lois and their fathers arrived next. Accompanying them was an older blonde woman with Chloe’s smile, and a brunette of about the same age. Clark could see her resemblance to Lois. The thing was, Chloe’s mom had left when she was a little girl, and Lois’s mother was dead. This was getting weirder and weirder.

Still, there didn’t seem to be anything to do but invite them all in, and go get the folding chairs. “You all had turkey, too, didn’t you?” He asked, as he led them to their seats.

“Yeah. It was great. Have you met our mothers?” Chloe said, pushing past him in her haste to get to the table. She loved his mother’s sugar cookies almost as much as he loved pie.

“No, I haven’t. It’s nice to meet you both.” Clark aimed for friendliness, but he was pretty freaked out.

Finally, Lana and Jason appeared. Clark wondered what oddness they would bring with them, but they seemed fine. It wasn’t until their conversation had gone on for an hour that the doorbell rang another time, and Lana’s parents took two more seats, digging into the pie and talking with his parents like they hadn’t been killed years ago.

It looked like everybody but him had gotten their holiday wishes. No, wait. Maybe that wasn’t true. The unmistakable sound of a Porsche pulling onto the farm’s driveway made him perk up in wonder.

“Am I too late?” Lex asked, smiling at Clark like he hadn’t done in months.

“Of course not, Lex. You’re always welcome.” Clark took the bottle of wine he’d brought, and told Lex to pick a seat. He was thrilled when Lex chose the one next to him, but knew it meant Lex wasn’t really there. Glad even for the image of Lex, he vowed to enjoy the evening to the fullest.

The conversation was lagging a little when Lex whispered “I’ve got something else for you, outside.” Clark excused himself, and followed Lex out to his car.

He barely had time to ask “What is it?” before Lex pushed him back against the metal door, and kissed him. Clark could feel Lex’s erection pressed against him, and kissed back with equal fervor.

“I’ve wanted to do this ever since I’ve known you, Clark.” Lex told him, as he ran a hand down Clark’s pants, palming the cloth covered cock and slowly unzipping him. Lex’s fingers wrapped around him felt better than Clark ever imagined. He knew it couldn’t be real. For once, he thanked God for Kryptonite, by name, in fact when he came all over Lex’s hand and into the snow. He scuffed the ground to cover it.

“Then why were you ignoring me?” Clark wondered, once he got his senses back online. “I know I was a jerk to you, but God, I was so jealous. I’m sorry, Lex. I wish I could make everything all right between us.”

“Why do you think I’m here, Clark? I want that too. I’ve missed you.”

“You’re not. I’m imagining you. Or you’re imagining me. It’s some kind of meteor rock turkey trick.” Clark didn’t want to think about it logically. He didn’t think the bite of turkey he’d had would affect him the same way, considering how sick it had made him, but maybe he was wrong. But if Lex had wished for this too, then maybe he wasn’t mad at Clark any more. Clark didn’t know what to believe.

Lex looked at him like he was nuts. “If you say so. I’ll agree with anything if it gets you to kiss me again, and maybe do a little more.”

“Anything, Lex.” Clark was on his knees before Lex could say what he wanted. He almost expected Lex to disappear while he was sucking him, but he didn’t. He felt real, and the way he moaned as he came down Clark’s throat felt real as well.

“I’ve wanted to do that forever,” Clark admitted, as Lex pulled him up into his arms.

“I could tell.” Lex kissed him. “But we should probably go in. I’m not quite as cold resistant as you. Besides, they’ll start to ask questions soon. I want to keep this private, for now. Special.”

When they walked back into the house, everyone was still there, eating the last bits of their pie slices and cookies. Then they each excused themselves. When they came back from the bathroom, their unexpected guests faded away. Clark expected to hear shocked protests, but everyone acted unconcerned but happy. Chloe and Lois’s mothers went first, then Pete went back to normal, the supermodel presumably going back to her pin-up. Finally the Langs disappeared.

Expecting the worst, Clark couldn’t bear to look towards Lex’s empty chair. Then he heard a voice. “Is that what you were talking about, Clark? All those people disappearing? And who were they, anyway?”

Clark looked up, amazed. Lex was real. He was still there, and Clark hadn’t blown his chances. Some wishes did come true.

“You didn’t have turkey for dinner, did you Lex?”

“Oh no, Clark. We always have goose for Christmas. Why?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll explain it all to you later,” Clark told him, beaming. Then he offered Lex the last slice of pie.

END

BOOKS

Harry Potter - Harry/Ron

Author: CaliaDragon
Title: Waking Up
Date: December 3
Fandom: Harry Potter/Book
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Rating: PG 13
Summary: Ron awakens to his lover and thinks of how they got to this point.
Disclaimer: Not mine, just the situation
Feedback address: caliadragon1@myself.com
Advertisement: Part of the SAC-2004 at:
http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Note: This is obviously slash, there is mentions of violence, but is mostly fluffy stuff.
Beta: Edi the Wonderful

WAKING UP

Harry lay on his side half-asleep and dreaming of a warm body cuddled against his own. He murmured softly in his sleep and turned to press fully against the tantalizing heat. A soft laugh whispered across his face and he smiled dreamily, whispering one name, “Ron.” He tucked his head beneath the larger man’s body and hummed happily, as arms infolded him.

“Are you awake, Love?” Ron asked amused by his lover’s re