Joy's Fiction Stargate SG-1 Slash Fanfiction

Intervals 36

I


~

Dear Daniel,

It’s been five weeks since I last wrote. I’m at home resting; was shot in the leg by Harry. Doesn’t seem that long ago when it was my knee. Used to hurt like hell but now it’s a dull ache. Sort of like missing you does. Except that won’t heal. Jesus, when did I suddenly become this idiot who waxes poetic?

Of course, I blame it on you. And I blame it on the entire fucking universe who has a serious yen for messing with me. Watched a sci-fi show — yeah, I know, but I’m bored and this show turned out to be decent, though I forgot the name. One of the lead characters wondered if the universe was done having its bit of fun with him; whether or not it was time to go pick on someone else. That’s what I’m wondering. Isn’t it time to go pick on someone else?

Just after I’d started grilling my hotdogs, I went in to take a piss. When I came back out, one of the three dogs I had on the grill was gone. I turn around and there’s Harry, sitting on the deck rail, eating the purloined dog and drinking one of my brews. The urge to smack the crap out of him loomed large. Along with it the more refined urge to shoot him. Though I say that all the time, mostly to scare him, I’d never do it. The weasel is worthy of sound thrashing though.

Harry conned me into taking him through the gate to some supposed place with Ancients’ tech but was really some utopian mecca. The tech was real, the mecca wasn’t.

But what surprised me *later* was that Harry can read Ancient. Just when the fuck had that happened? I knew he was a smart guy but not that damned smart. He fell for my bullshit three years ago, you know?

The utopia itself, despite it’s lack of inhabitants, wasn’t bad. In fact, it was pretty damned nice, apart from the paranoid weed Harry and I ate.

I’d gone for a few walks while I was stuck there, hiking at least five miles in every direction, though at the time it was to look for a way out. One place had a waterfall spot that was just fucking gorgeous. It emptied out into a lagoon that was isolated from the large lake that the utopia ‘village’ skirted. At night, the lake was a mirror, reflecting the sunset. It was very pretty there. Serene.

I couldn’t help but wish you were there with me instead of Harry. Water was nice and cool, weather was warm. The lake even had fish. It would’ve been perfect. We could’ve retired there, you and me. And that waterfall would’ve been a good place to share a shower. Plenty of wide-open spaces to roll around. Get you dirty, smelling like sweet grass and damp earth. Get you to spread those thighs. To feel you buck up hard against me…

Where the fuck are you?

============================

Dear Daniel,

I forgot to add something about Harry and I. No, not *that.*

I told him not to die on me (I’d shot him during our paranoid stage, just as he’d shot me). He asked why, not seeing that it would make much difference. Just then one of those cargo ships flew over our position so I told him we were about to be rescued, that’s why he couldn’t die.

It was then, Daniel, that he asked me to leave him there. He’d rather die than spend the rest of his life in prison. Well – duh. A lot of people would, me included. And that’s the reason that I told him, sarcastically of course, that he’d suffered enough. Hell, I even got to shoot him. Told him that, too.

“Twice,” he clarified. Except for that plant making him a fucking loon (and me along with it), he has a pretty decent sense of humor. Still made me wanna smack him, hard, for the way his mind works, but I didn’t. I felt sorry for him.

Okay, okay, I was beginning to actually like him, god help me. It occurred to me that he could have the Tok’ra drop him off somewhere. So, I told him that maybe the Tok’ra could find him a nice planet to live on.

He said, “Thanks, Jack.”

“Sure, Harry,” I told him.

Harry then asked me how I was going to cover for him, and would the Tok’ra lie for me? I told him that the snakes would lie simply because the fuckers still feel incredibly guilty about that cowardly, backstabbing snake, Kanan. Guilt works for me and I’ll continue to use that card until it wears out. I’ll tell our people that Harry died on the moon. From my gun. It’ll work because he almost did. Besides, I’m a very good liar when I have to be, as you well know.

The moment between Harry and myself was good. Nice, even. But then Harry, being Harry, couldn’t leave it there. He had to talk about *you.* Yep, you. And I’ll remember those *two* conversations for the rest of my life.

The first convo was when we were waiting for the ship to land.

“About Daniel Jackson,” he said.

“Harry, just leave it be.”

“Oh, come on, Jack. You can be honest. It’s not like I’m gonna go running to Hammond or the Pentagon and spill, is it?”

I didn’t answer that.

“I’d been watching you, you know,” he said.

I knew. I’d had a lot of time to think about how Harry always knew where I was, when I was alone. “I know,” I told him.

“You know now, or you knew then.”

“You didn’t do half bad, Harry. I only just recently figured it out.”

“Oh. Gonna answer the question?”

“You didn’t ask me a question, Harry.”

“For fuck’s sake, Jack. Were you and Doctor Jackson… you know?”

I wasn’t about to say anything because I just knew that he’d tease me about it. Not like he couldn’t already but I was not confirming squat. “I can’t figure out why you’d be interested in knowing anything about my private life, Harry. As I said before, it’s none of your business. And I don’t mean that in an unkind way.”

Harry was silent for a moment before he said, “Jack, before we never see each other again, there’s something I need to tell you.”

It was then that the Tok’ra showed up and we didn’t get a chance to talk again – like that – until we were safely stowed on ship, and in the cargo hold. I was glad. The tone of his voice warned me that he was going to say something dreadfully important. Not sure I wanted to hear it. Actually, in hindsight, I *know* I didn’t want to hear it.

So we’re on route to the planet and the second convo starts up.

“Are we alone?” he asked.

“Yeah, more or less. No doors but they’re far enough away. Why?”

I knew, though. He was going to tell me that dreadfully important thing that I didn’t want to hear. I had this sneaking suspicion that he wanted to tell me that he had this thing for you.

Everyone fucking does, don’t they? Seriously. They do. Now, from the point of view of a guy’s ego, I’m glad. Makes me feel like I scored big. But on a more secure level, I hated that people had this thing about you. I may not have felt as strongly about it if we’d been *out*, or I may have felt worse. Either way, I did not want to hear that he had a thing for you.

“I need to tell you something.”

“If it’s about Daniel, Harry, I don’t–“

“No, it’s about me. And about my feelings.”

“Again, if it’s about Daniel–“

“You, Jack. It’s you.”

“What?” I asked. I was fucking stunned, as you can imagine.

Harry saw the I’m-not-thrilled look on my face and looked like he wanted to crawl under the floor and die. I know the feeling.

“I didn’t realize it until after I’d heard that you had damned near gotten yourself killed by both Apophis and Replicators.”

I kinda gawped at him. “You mean you were feeling that way about me when you helped me find Carter?” I had this sudden flashback of shoving him against that black van he had – pinning him *with my body* as I took his gun from his jacket. Fuckin’ A.

The thought that he probably got off on that still makes my stomach queasy. He didn’t answer my question, but the look in his eyes made the answer an obvious ‘yes’. “Are you telling me that it wasn’t out of the not-so-simple goodness of your heart that you decided to help me?” I asked him. “That it’s because you have this jones–“

“Don’t say it like that!” he snapped.

“Well, how the hell should I say it?” I asked. Okay, I was upset and I shouldn’t have been, but fuck.

“I don’t know,” he said.

At this point, I was beyond uncomfortable. D’oh! I tried to hide most of it, though. Maybe because I wasn’t going to be seeing him much longer. “I have no idea what to say to that, Harry.” Neither of us did, it seems because we didn’t say anything for a few minutes.

“Did you love him?” he suddenly asked.

What the hell, I remember telling myself. I remember thinking that I wasn’t gonna say shit, but when he asked that, it was like this need to tell *someone* that wasn’t Carter or Teal’c. “Yes, Harry. I did. I still do.”

“Good. Have you found anyone else yet?”

“Oh, for cryin’ out loud,” I said. I did not want to hear that. It just sounded so… wrong… coming from him.

“I’m serious, Jack. I just don’t think he’d want you to pine away for him, that’s all. So… don’t. Find someone, okay?”

“Harry, stop it.”

“Tell me you will. I just wanna know that you’re okay.”

“Harry, you’re going all Scarlet O’Hara on me.”

“Jack, c’mon–“

“Fuckin’ A, Harry. I’ll be fine.” Apparently my sarcasm is a condition. Just keeps coming back no matter what.

“I can spot lies a mile off.”

“Takes one to know one. I’m not ready, Harry. I don’t know when I’ll be ready. And I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you.”

After a Tok’ra came over to tell us we were about to land, Harry whispered, “Just humor me, okay Jack?”

“Fine,” I said, my voice calmer. “I promise to go out and find someone to have sex with. Good enough?”

“Not really, but it’ll do, I suppose.”

I started to get up and Harry grabbed my arm, surprising me with how weak he wasn’t.

“If you expect me to kiss you, Harry, I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you. I’d rather shoot you again.”

“Thanks a lot, Jack.”

“Harry–“

“I didn’t want that anyway.”

“Oh.”

“Just give me your hand, okay?”

I did and he clasped it, thumb over thumb. “You take care of yourself, Jack.”

“You, too, Harry.”

I left him on the ship, assured he’d be taken care of, and after walking away from it, I felt a strange sense of loss that I refuse to dwell on, even now.

I’d gone no more than 500 yards before I was immediately besieged by Carter, Teal’c, and Jonas, thumping me on the back and trying to help me walk as if I hadn’t been doing that already–by myself. Carter looked like shit. Well, actually, she always looks okay, as pretty women tend to, but she had tired circles under her eyes and it was then that I realized that she’d probably pulled another sleepless deal like the time I was trapped on Edora.

“Carter, the minute we get home, it’ll be your turn to go on leave,” I told her. She tried to argue but it was of no use. She recognized the look on my face. No one messes with the look.

So, now, here I am, life’s more or less normal and I’m waiting–again–to get back to work. Things will be just fine if only Carter would quit calling me. I had to resort to drastic measures. So I called up Siler. He wasn’t doing anything so I asked him to go check up on her and get her distracted. That motorcycle probably needs fiddling with.

============================

Dear Daniel,

Been a few days. Leg’s all healed.

Can’t stop thinking — okay, worrying — about Harry. If he’s very lucky, he won’t have gotten himself killed already by the Tok’ra, not before they have a chance to drop kick his butt to the nearest inhabitable planet. Okay, I’m kidding. I am hoping that he stays out of trouble. That wherever he’s gone, it’s a nice place for him.

God, just had a thought. What if Harry became a Tok’ra? No, no, ain’t gonna happen. He can’t stand them any more than I can. But then, I always said I’d never get… blended. With Harry’s penchant for getting himself, and others, into trouble, it could happen. God help them. 

~

End

Joy's Fiction Stargate SG-1 Slash Fanfiction

Joy

writer, artist, veteran, and progressive pain in the asset.

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