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Special Terminology: TDY = 'Temporary DutY' Roughly …to be sent away from you assigned duty station to do something else for however long they want you to go there and do it.
Disclaimer: As for the rest, Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the
property of Stargate Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret
Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes
only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended.
Note: This story is the private possession of the author and can
not be copied or archived without her express permission. Downloaded for
private use is considered acceptable.
Daniel shook the snow off the OD green parka before pushing his way through the front door at O’Neill's house.
// Probably one of the few really useful pieces of gear they've ever issued.//
Reaching back with a foot, he kicked the door shut. Without bothering to locate the switch he made his way down the darkened hall, more by memory than any other sense, to deposit the pitifully small sack of groceries on Jack's kitchen table.
// 'Our' table. //
He corrected himself, a contented smile drifting ghost-like across full lips No matter how many times his lover and confidant told him that it made no difference who's place they were staying at - that it was "home" for the both of them - to Daniel, this would always be 'Jack's house'. And his safe haven from the unforgiving world outside.
It had been a long two and a half weeks with Jack gone. One of the many joys of being a part of the "Special Operations" community: the on going training - going to it yourself or being sent to teach it to others. It was the Colonel's turn to pass on some of his brutally learned knowledge to the less experienced of this special 'Warrior's Brotherhood'. And now he was TDY for a month to Ft. Richardson, Alaska; a member of the training cadre to the Multi-Service Arctic Survival Course.
// God, Jack, less than two more weeks 'till you're back. It may be 'half way' over for you up there, but it's been an eternity here. With still an eternity left to go. //
The young man sighed. With their CO gone, the General had put SG-1 on Stand Down until the team was back up to strength, so there was little for Daniel to do to keep his mind off the encircling loneliness. He buried himself chin deep in reports and analysis, but that only blunted the feelings for so long before the longing came back with a vengeance. Sam and Teal'c had gone out as 'augmentees' to another SG team on a couple of short missions, but the 'down time' was beginning to take it's toll on them as well.
// Too much of a 'good thing'.//
The house was quiet, the deepening snow outside contributing it's part in muting the sounds of people and traffic; deepening the cave-like isolation. Even the common noises of grocery bags, and cans being handled and put in their own places echoed uncommonly loud in the still house. He rapidly finished storing the few purchases. After months of shopping with two in mind, the sack's contents was pitifully small. Even with the both of them on 24/7 call, it provided a comfort to Daniel to know that there would always be food available whenever they made it home. A domesticity that surprised him at times, but one he'd come to enjoy.
Down to the last item in the bag, and with nothing left to provide a distraction from the emptiness, the silence at last became too great.
// I've got to do something … this place feels 'way too deserted.//
Leaving a package of pasta abandoned on the counter, he stepped down into the living room and headed for the CD player running through the disc collection in his mind… trying to come up with something that wouldn't add a new depth to his quiet depression.
Everything in the assortment was his, Jack's or theirs.
Any of it could and, in his present state of loneliness, would stir up
longings. Kneeling in front of the packed racks of disks, he began to
sort things into some vague form of categories. "Bound to be Depressing".
"Romantic, therefore Depressing." "Soundtracks, backgrounds for
discussions, probably Depressing." "I *can't* believe either one of
us would *ever* listen to this! Why is it even here?".
Stuffed in alongside one of the jewel cases was an CD wrapped in
one of those pre-made gift 'envelopes'. And by the looks of it, hurriedly
stuffed in the back of the stack in the hopes of being soon forgotten.
He turned it over in his hands a couple of times before opening the tab.
A small card fell out.
"Hope you two enjoy it. Marry Christmas! Sam"
// Okay, one mystery solved. But why would Jack want to hide this ...? //
The answer revealed itself as he removed the plastic case from the
package. Too easily, in fact. ' "Rarities, B-Sides and Other Stuff" by
Sarah McLaughlin.' He chuckled. Jack must have sneaked a quick peek,
not recognized the artist and been freaked out by the title or something.
He ditched it so he wouldn't have to show it to his intimate or thank Sam.
// Yep… That's my Jack. Subtle as a train wreck. //
A peaceful smile caressed firelight softened skin as he loaded the
CD into the sound system. A delicate voice began wafting it's way gently
around the room: it's lightness displacing the solitary dark.
The solace of the music began to settle itself over Daniel's shoulders
like a warm, comforting pair of arms. He rose from his crouch and laid
the clear case on a speaker's top, his hand coming to rest on top of it
for a moment in quiet repose.
// Thank you, Sam. //
With the music's company, he performed the evening ritual: piling
tinder and kindling onto the fireplace grate; starting the fire that
has always aided man in making the dark times bearable. Slowly,
lengths of wood were fed to the tiny flames until the fire had taken
on it's own life. Lifting two split logs from the top of the nearby
stack, he laid them in among the blaze, trusting the fire would accept
them as their own. The ruddy glow added emotional warmth to the room
in complement with it's actually heat.
He took a moment to light an old oil lamp standing patient vigil on
the side table next to Jack's overstuffed chair by the hearth. It's
tarnished base had been discovered during a thrift shop expedition with
Janet one weekend. She had helped him restore the gleaming metal and
locate a new wick and chimney. He had presented it to Jack later the next
day. The two spent that evening and on into the night wrapped in each
other's embrace; napping in the lamp's warm glow.
A pair of tall pillar candles that lived on each end of the coffee
table completed the room's lighting and added their part to push back the
emptiness. The mute, deepening snow outside became less foreboding as his
own secure haven took hold.
Dinner prep was quick. With only one person, things were rarely more
complex that a sandwich … perhaps an occasional can of soup. There seemed
no reason to cook anything, really … with no one there to share it with.
Dietary duties done he grabbed plate and coffee cup heading for the
plump chair. Placing dinner on the side table, he turned back to the
wooden box resting beneath the mail slot - checking to see if anything
requiring immediate attention had come in since he'd last looked.
// Let's see… Utility bill. This month's "Anthropology Journal" -
Well, they finally got the forwarding address right, I see. Letter
from my optometrist - ditto. Cable TV bill. Letter from Jack.
Phone bill. A beg letter from 'The World Wide Fund for…..' //
"Shit!!" Startled, the wad of mail tumbled from his grip to scatter
on the carpet. Dropping to his knees he fumbled the long, battered
envelope from the disheveled heap of paper.
// A letter from Jack! My God. He actually wrote a letter! //
The evening meal was well and truly forgotten as he settled in
the chair, tearing into the envelope. Two badly folded pieces of
stationary stuffed roughly inside became the most precious things
he had ever seen and he handled them with a touch and reverence
usually reserved for a fragile alien artifact. Actually, with Jack,
anything in writing was priceless - his hatred for reports and such
being all too well known.
The crinkle of the flimsy paper blended with the fire's crackling
as the message from his lover unfolded in his trembling hands.
// He wrote me. //
His heart and soul were dancing in time to the now energetic rhythm
flowing from the CD.
// He wrote me! //
With forefinger firmly reseating his glasses, he leaned his body
closer to the oil lamp flickering on the table next to him, elbow propping
him on the chair's arm. The lamp's gentle radiance transfused the rough
paper with a parchment-like glow, making this moment all the more intiment
for him. Deep azure eyes drank in the words that lay stretched out darkly
before him.
"Jackson,"
// Well … that was certainly an imaginative start… //
"Don't know when this'll get to you. I might even beat it back.
Wanted you to let folks know that the training cycle is progressing
along nicely and I haven't shot anybody… yet. Though not for lack
of wanting to. God, I hate to think I was ever this dumb and cocky,
ya know what I mean? And I plan on finding out who put my name in the
hat for this. And break their hat. For starters. Being 'shipped off'
for something like this sucks. Especially in the middle of the friggin'
winter."
// Oh! I wanna be around to watch that! //
"My little corner of the universe here is cold. Period. And that may be
it's only redeeming factor. Makes me realize all over again why I joined
the Air Force. Looking at 3 weeks of bunkering down in the snow and slush
looks 'way too much like the Marines to me. Think I'll recommend
Makepeace if the folks here are looking for another instructor some
time in the future. I'm *sure* he'd enjoy it ... not."
// Humm ….. Not! //
"We'll be in a desolate spot, out in the tulies somewhere - not like
anybody back there would know anything about that - but they're keeping
me busy and that helps move the time along. If I've gotta be stuck in
the snow and ice, though, I'd rather be back at base. Things and people
there. Even the sky here's clouded over most of the time. Can't see a
thing. Even if I could, got no one else to show stuff to. Probably one
of the loneliest spots on the planet."
// Wish I *could* be there to see the 'sky' on your planet. //
"I'll sign off now so I can get it in the mail sack before we head
off into the outback. Let the folks in the 'duty section' know
they're not rid of me yet. I'm not planning turning anyone loose
on their own. You guys get into enough trouble when you *have*
adult supervision."
// And *you're* the supervision? {Snort!} Right. //
"Be back in three. See you then. And pretend you're working at
'Motel 6' and leave the lamp on so I can find my way back.
O'Neill"
His eyes rested on Jack's scrawled signature for a moment, before
finding themselves drifting up to rest on an earlier line.
"Probably one of the loneliest spots on the planet."
// No Jack. I don't think so. //
Holding the letter for another minute before letting the weight of
his own hands carry it onto his lap, Daniel tried to reason with himself
that these two pieces of paper probably went through a couple of different
hands in their trip between Jack and here… that others may have read this
and Jack had to be circumspect to a fault. Understanding didn't change
the feelings he was having right then… the 'knee-jerk' reaction of wishing
his lover had been able to write more. To write just to him and him alone.
// If he just could have found a way to say "I miss you, Danny" - it
wouldn't hurt so much. I know he's coming home to me. I *know* it. But
God, I'm still so empty at times like this.//
He huddled in melancholy stillness, feet tucked beneath him, looking
into the dancing flames of the fire: aware only of how selfish he was
being, how self-centered; becoming more and more disgusted with himself
for allowing it. The change of tempo and mood in the opening bars of the
next song sent tendrils drifting toward him: tugging gently at him,
tickling his hearing, trying to draw his focus. He let his attention
drift toward the music.
"The lamp is burning low upon my table top
"If I could only have you near
The soft anguish of the words settled in his chest, bringing a tightness
to wrap itself about his heart. Could anyone understand how forlorn and
emptied he felt right now? His head dropped back to rest against the
topmost edge of the chair as if the moisture gathering under closed lids
made it too heavy to hold it upright. He wanted to turn his soul away
from the torment of the melody but the feelings it stirred held him:
encouraged him to stay in the 'here and now'. To stop thinking only
with his fear: to let go and start trusting his feelings.
And his heart.
"The smoke is rising in the shadows over head
"If I could know within my heart
// Between the lines. Oh, Daniel, you great bloody fool.
Did you ever think to actually try to 'read' between the lines?//
His eyes and memory replayed the letter line for line; word for word.
And there it was… every feeling, every want, every desire his lover had
for him. How much he missed 'him' - 'his Daniel'. Buried in between
the lines so plainly that a school child could have seen it.
Now he could see it. Now he could hear it … hear it speaking to him.
Jack's lonely words reaching across the snow covered miles to let his
lover know how much he was missed. Letting him know that he wasn't alone
... that Jack was still there for him. And coming home because of him.
"The fire is dying, my lamp is growing dim
"If I could only have you near
The knot of fear gripping his chest melted away like snow in the
sunlight. Threatening tears were finally made free to slowly roll
down his soft cheeks and into the tawny hair that hung firelight gilded
framing his face. Gentle droplets trickling now in happiness; not in fear.
Daniel remained in the enfolding peacefulness of that stuffed chair for
the rest of the night: letting it enfold him; drinking in his lover's
musky scent with each slow breath until, finally, slipping beyond into
sleep as dawn began to bring new life to the sky.
He slept and rested well, knowing that his partner, his lover, the
other half of his soul, loved him no matter the miles that lay between
them.
And that the glow of the lamp would be there in the window to guide
him home
"If I could only have you near
And to be once again with you."
*** end ***
Snow is softly falling.
The air - still - in the silence of my room
I hear your voice softly calling."
To breath a sigh or two,
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
On this winter's night with you."
My glass is almost empty.
I read again between the lines upon each page
The words of love you send me."
That you were lonely too,
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
On this winter's night with you."
The shades of night are lifting.
Morning light steals across my window pane
Where webs of snow are drifting."
To breath of sigh or two,
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
On this winter's night with you."
To breath of sigh or two,
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
On this winter's night with you.
CLASSIFIED MISSION BRIEFINGS
RETURN TO SGC
OFF BASE
