Jack was not a happy camper. He was in his office, on base, on a Saturday morning doing paperwork. True, it was his own fault, he should have completed the yearly appraisals at the end of last week and now they were late so he'd had to come in at the weekend and get them done.
They shouldn't be hard to write should they? After all they were for his team; the team he knew inside out. That was all well and good when you were out in the field and you knew damn well each and every one of them would give their all for you, just as you would for them. But how the hell could you expect the pencil pushers back in Washington to understand that? No, it had to be put down all nice and proper, in triple, dry as dust and telling nothing of the reality.
He had already spent two hours crossing the T's and dotting the I's for Carter and Teal'c; they had been difficult enough, but now he was trying to write Daniel's.
Now as far as Jack O'Neill was concerned Daniel Jackson had to be about the best thing in the SGC, but he could hardly put that down in the report. Not very military.
Right, let's get this organised. Concise overview of attributes and deficiencies in position with the team.
Jack smiled to himself, how the hell did he answer that one? The place wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for Daniel, but that kind of truth didn't sit well with the top brass. Let's see, on a simpler day to day basis. Daniel had been on SG1 for over three years now, how had he performed during the last twelve months?
Exceptionally, of course, as usual. He had uncovered more artefacts, translated more writings in more languages than most people even knew existed. He had helped to arrange more alliances, more trade negotiations and unfortunately he had fought off more Goa'uld, Jaffa and any other bad guys who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or as he would say, we were in the wrong place at the wrong time. He had been injured, captured, tortured, lost and had died at least once. In other words, normal SG1 activities. He had not always been happy, too many times he had uncovered some wonderful archaeological find that he could happily spend years working on only to have to walk away. But he knew that, and he coped. Not always quietly I have to admit. But that is Daniel.
Perhaps he was a little better at following orders than he used to be. Perhaps. When it suited him. He'd still try to cajole, manipulate, beg to get his own way, or on a really bad day he'd bat his eyelashes. I'd be toast! He would need to stay a minute longer, an hour longer, just another day please? Or he'd look at me over his glasses as he asked to just let him write down that last line, take that last picture, copy that last glyph?
He was quite something in his role as ambassador, interpreter, point of contact, or that wonderful word he used once, plenipotentiary. Isn't that a wonderful word? Imagine Daniel saying that. Oooh, it sends shivers up my spine.
Oh, yes quite the negotiator was Dr. Daniel Jackson. He still tried to get the witch-doctor not to sacrifice him by explaining the concept of humanity.
He would calmly face down the tribal elder with just an upturned open hand and an even more open face.
He smoothly arranged an alliance while smiling at the chief's daughter, not quite understanding why we then had to run for the hills.
Yes, he was getting better.
Better at making Jack feel truly alive each and every day.
The last twelve months had been quite spectacular for one Colonel Jack O'Neill. But it wasn't something he could put in any report. He smiled at that notion. He seemed to smile more and more these days and there was one reason. The same reason he felt more at peace, the same reason he spent sleepless nights worrying, breaking out in a cold sweat when a nightmare came too close to his innermost fears.
Daniel. He loved Daniel Jackson.
And the miracle was that Daniel Jackson loved him.
It has been just about a year since they had got together. It was actually their first anniversary in two weeks, must plan something special.
If I was to do an appraisal for his twelve months as my partner it would be as conflicting as the one for SG1.
He made me glad to be alive just so I can love, and be loved by, him. That doesn't mean we don't have good days and bad days. Oh no, we have spectacular rows, that has never changed and never will. We're both too strong willed, too independent but it doesn't lessen our love.
No, definitely we have good days and bad days.
Some days we'd return home following a really disastrous mission and we'd hardly get inside the door before we'd start. One would blame the other for some stupid act, some indiscretion or other. Tempers flared, voices rose and then we'd attack each other, wrestling onto the floor, or the couch, or if we manage to get that far, the bed.
Clothes go, sometimes not all of them just enough to touch and feel each other. Daniel would grab my face and kiss me so hard my lips would bruise. He'd force his tongue inside and we'd battle over who got control. Usually Daniel won on days like that. He could be bad when he wanted. He'd shove up my shirt and lave and bite my nipples, till I'd be squirming and moaning, then he'd yank down my pants and boxers and go down on me. He'd take me in whole and with consummate skill suck me off till I was dry. Then when I'd still be drifting he'd roll me over. I'd be so relaxed he'd just take me, hard and fast without any more preparation. He'd never hurt me, he just fucked me into the mattress.
Oh, yes when Danny was bad, he was really baaad.
Then there are the other days. The good days. We'd come home after a successful mission, mellow and content. We'd have a good meal, a good wine, a few candles and sit with desert on the sofa. We'd cuddle and kiss and sometimes we would stay on the sofa too comfortable to move but mostly we would go to the bedroom. I would like the drapes open with no other light. The shadows and shifting light would set the mood.
We would always begin with simple touch, drifting of fingers across skin, lips and tongue following. Then the kisses would raise the passion even more. Tongues caressing and searching, learning to know every inch, every mark, every scar, every swirl patterning the skin. Eventually I would reach the prize and take Daniel's cock into my mouth and lick, nip and suck till he was no longer even able to moan. Then he would come in my mouth and I would swallow the essence of my love.
I would retrieve the lube from wherever it was hidden and gently prepare both him and me. I would raise his legs over my shoulders so I could watch his face and he could watch mine as I made love to him. I would slide in slow, a little at a time, not because I needed to but because it was good, so good. Daniel would rise to meet my thrusts and we would set a steady rhythm, brushing his prostate whenever I rotated my hips just so. He would be mumbling then in one language or another, didn't matter I knew what he was saying. I'd say it too, in English. Then all words would go, to be replaced by gasps and moans and sometimes a whimper. I would speed up and hit his prostate each time then, till we were both lost as I came deep inside. We would both call each other's name before we sank into blissful oblivion for a few seconds before we wrapped our arms around each other and murmured words of love.
That was good, so good.
Daniel most definitely had good days and bad days.
Just like we did on SG1. But while Daniel passed his appraisal with flying colours it definitely was not something Jack could put in the reporT.
|Genres:||Established Relationship, Romance|
|Summary:||It's time for the yearly Appraisals and Jack appraises Daniel
Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to my Beta, Gateroller!