TITLE: Let the Sun Go Down
E-MAIL: eli @ popullus.net
RATING: PG-13
POSTED: Nov. 9, 2004
NOTES: Written for Tafkar. It was supposed to help cheer her up. It...kinda had other ideas.
DISCLAIMER: Read
Very. Fucking. Bad. That about sums up the afternoon.
Without putting his bare hands down, not even in the strip of shade arcing across him, Jack shifts slightly on the long slabs of rock that make up the stairs that always seem to be leading up to stargates. Except this stargate is different, because it's never, ever going to open again. At least not until they die probably, since the universe would enjoy a joke like that.
"My ass is baking. Toasting."
"You could stop sitting on the stairs," comes the muffled suggestion.
"Ah, yes." Jack doesn't bother opening his eyes to see Daniel's expression. "But then not only would I be grilling, but there would be sand, everywhere."
"Would you stop talking in cooking terms? Please?"
Jack smirks, then runs his tongue over the wet, bloody cracks that reopen on his lips. "You've got terms for being roasted alive that don't involve cooking, spit 'em out."
An impatient sigh rushes up to him. "Try thinking about cool things, Jack. Cold ones, even."
"Ice would take one look at this hell planet, Daniel, and evaporate." Jack resists the need to wipe at his eyes. Proving his point, sweat disappears before it fully exists, sucked up by the greedy sun just a little too close overhead. But that doesn't stop it from sticking around long enough to sting in the corners of his eyes. He might as well be covered in sand.
"I'm not complaining about the heat, you'll notice."
At that, Jack sits up to scowl at the man curled against the base of the stone, as much of his body as possible squeezed into the darker spot provided down there that might actually be near a bearable temperature. Left out in the sun along with his legs, Daniel's head is down, letting his hat take the brunt of the punnishing heat.
"And how many of your years have you not lived in a desert?" Jack asks.
"Quite a few, actually."
Jack's scowl turns into a worried frown as Daniel's hand sneaks from under his jacket just long enough to tug the collar, a move that already looks like habit, damn it.
"Most of them, recently," Daniel continues, "which isn't helping matters, believe me."
"Thirty more minutes," Jack announces.
Daniel's head comes up, his face reddened despite its protected position in the last hour and his mouth open.
Jack shrugs. "They don't call, we don't get a way around this busted DHD, and we'll get moving, find some shelter."
He doesn't think about the "try to" part of that sentence, and he can't see Daniel's eyes behind the sunglasses. But Daniel closes his mouth and nods before ducking his head again.
Fifteen minutes out of eternity later, Jack's trying not to simply slide down the last two steps and huddle with Daniel -- they've already established a one-yard "it's too fucking hot" buffer zone -- when Daniel stirs again, and reveals a small, tilted smile.
"What?" Jack immediately asks.
The smile grows. "Just thinking, Sam's going to say it serves us right."
Jack thinks about that, then shakes his head. "She's not usually that sadistic." He pauses, examining that smile, then, "What'd you do?"
"Nothing," Daniel protests mildly. "But you..." he laughs softly, "I should see if we still have that tape."
"What tape?" Jack asks. Rather patiently, he thinks, since he's not throwing any of the loose rocks nearby at Daniel's head.
"You remember when the Ancients messed with your head?"
"Which time?" Jack mutters, then waves off the comment. "Yeah, yeah, big head-sucking hands. What of it?"
"Well..." Daniel squirms, turning just enough to fully look up at Jack. "You don't actually remember much of that, do you?"
"I got my head messed with, I stopped making sense, Thor's buddies fixed me up. Sweet guys."
"Yeah, there was a little more in there than that," Daniel says with a considering frown that doesn't in any way erase that damn smile.
Sure there was more, there always is, but most of it's fuzzy and faint. Except... "I...had to draw...a DHD's guts," Jack pulls out of...somewhere. Huh.
Daniel nods, and starts to lick his lips, an automatic gesture that stops mid-swipe. Slowly, he brings his fingers up to touch his mouth, swallows. Jack catches himself mimicking the action, feels his stick-dry tongue too large in his throat, and refuses to think about getting out that last canteen.
Like he knows, Daniel gives him a rueful smile. "Not yet," he says softly, and Jack nods, motioning him to continue.
"Do you remember why you had to..." Daniel shakes his head, and Jack snorts, because Daniel's not going to say it, "...draw what you did?"
With a deep sigh, Jack closes his eyes and works on sliding all the memories under that label back out of the corner where he'd shoved them. "There was a broken DHD..."
An encouraging, "Yes..."
"...and a golden retriever..."
An annoyed, but still amused, "Noooo..."
Gotcha. Another fuzzy memory, but this one can be blamed on the MALP. "They got stuck on a planet where they were getting cooked."
"Yes!"
Jack opens his eyes and frowns down at Daniel. "We're not on the same planet, right?"
Eyebrows pop up above the sunglasses, almost hitting the hat brim. "Uh, no. No. Hammond took that one out." The eyebrows scrunch back down in a frown. "I'm pretty sure. And we've only got one sun."
"Right." When they get back, he'll still be having a talk with Hammond about the MALPs' blind spot when it comes to really hot planets with really dead DHDs. "The way I see it, this serves you right," Jack says, pinning Daniel with a thrusting finger. "I, as has been pointed out, had my own problems at the time."
"I couldn't leave you there without any way to communicate!" Daniel protests.
Jack reaches down and pats him on the hat. "We'll see how well that sells to Carter."
Daniel shakes the hand off his head, and through the dark lenses Jack can feel the glare that goes with the disgruntled twist of Daniel's mouth.
"Yes, thank you, Daniel, for attempting to lighten the mood," Daniel mutters, sarcasm on high as he curls back into the shrinking spot of shade. "You're welcome, Jack, any time."
Jack does smile. Then he checks his watch.
Five more minutes.
**
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