Manacles, Boonies, and Bandanas — OH MY,
(or in other words, Bad Fic #2)

by babs, DebA, devra, iiiionly, JoaG and OneofAradia

"Medical emergency!" The tall, lanky, silver-haired leader of Stargate Command's flagship, first contact team, SG-1's Colonel Jonathon "Jack" O'Neill (Authors' Notes: with 2 L's, not only one like that *other* Jack O'Neill, or is that O'Neil?) bellowed. "Danny's been hurt!"

"We found them." Major Samantha (Sam to her friends, of which she has many, though most of the males are now deceased or living at a higher plane of existence) Carter said, with tears glistening in her cornflower blue eyes while her barely-there waterproof mascara did as good a job of keeping her lashes lifted and separated as her WonderBra did for her heaving bosom under her pristine, well-fitted BDUs.

Texan-born and raised, bald-headed General George Hammond, who loves SG-1 the best even though he would tell all the other teams that he doesn't play favorites but we know he does, thundered down the spiral metal staircase into the cavernous Embarkation Room/Gateroom. "Thank God! Thank God! They've been missing for two hours. What took you so long? And where are they?"

As if on cue, the mighty Jaffa warrior Teal'c leapt through the 'Gate as if he'd been standing on a box (Authors' Notes: see Con Virgins' report of the Secaucus NJ 2005 con) ,young archaeologist/linguist Doctor Daniel Jackson cradled in his arms as if he carried an infant. He stopped on the metal ramp, chest and head glistening with sweat (Sam's the only one who perspires), eliciting sighs of admiration, yearning, jealousy, and a whole lot more from all who observed the sight of the dark Adonis standing regally as the 'Gate winked out behind his behind.

Something white and soft brushed by Jack's hip and he looked down to see the Titian tresses (Authors' Notes: the same shade as those of Nancy Drew - and we know for all you younger readers you have no idea who the hell we're talking about) of petite Louisianan-born, bred, and divorced Chief Medical Officer Major Doctor and Major Hottie, according to all the men on base except for Jack, Daniel and Paul Davis, if he's around (Authors' Notes: this is a slash fic after all) Janet Fraiser hobbling towards Teal'c on her stiletto heels that were on sale at the new Target and damn it if they weren't cute, even though they pinched her toes, her professional mask slipping momentarily as she caught sight of the injured archaeologist /slash/ linguist /slash/ anthropologist /slash/ unappreciated hero of the masses in this world and others, although Jack might have something to say about that /slash/ all around good guy, except when he's under the influence of a sarcophagus or a teaching dream of an ascended being.

"What happened?" Janet demanded as she began her immediate assessment, waving her penlight like a beacon in the night. Her heart plummeted as fast as her heel through the metal ramp as she took in the massive injuries of her favorite archaeologist /slash/ patient /slash/ friend /slash/ hottie even though she knew he was already spoken for. Teal'c lowered his arms for Janet to get a better look, even though the sight of her jumping up and down on the ramp had been extremely stimulating to him.

A moan from Daniel captured everyone's attention and a hushed silence fell over the 'Gateroom.


Jack rushed to Daniel's side, well, actually it wasn't his side because he was looking down on the bruised, battered, pale form of his cerulean blue-(Authors' Notes: see box of Crayola crayons for the exact shade - the 96 count box)-eyed beloved. "Danny, Danny, didn't I tell you not to touch?" Jack gently ran his long, shapely, well-manicured fingers over Daniel's still temptingly, attractively manacled, bruised, battered and bloody wrists, realizing this was an inappropriate time to be thinking of Daniel handcuffed to the headboard wearing nothing but a silk bandana blindfold and the ever popular Boonie, along with a dazzlingly white smile.

Daniel tried to raise his head from Teal'c's gleaming, rippling, muscled chest but it flopped back weakly, eliciting a whimper from Teal'c, much as Janet's enthusiastic assessment had caused earlier.

"What? What is it, Danny?" Jack pleaded as he lovingly carded his fingers through Daniel's silky short strands which surprisingly were still as clean and perfectly coiffed as when he'd taken his morning shower earlier that day. For a second, Jack wondered if the cuffs now adorning Daniel's bloody, bruised and battered wrists were the same ones they'd put to good use last evening during their night of debauchery. He should have checked. He'd thought that Daniel had taken care of locking them away. But with Daniel, one never knew.

"Bring him to the infirmary stat! I don't like the look of that dime-sized bruise. Have the crash cart standing by," Janet said in a rapid fire staccato. "We have a life to save. And a very special one at that."

Jack's joy at finding Daniel was overshadowed by the realization that he wouldn't be seeing the silk bandana blindfold, boonie and cuffs for awhile. Dang!

~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~

Four days later, Daniel sat in his office, dejectedly drinking his coffee from a straw in the pot in the middle of his desk. Darn, but these double slings were cumbersome. He'd given up trying to use his hands after the third spilled cup of coffee. Thankfully many volunteers, male and female, had stepped forward to provide caffeine for his addiction. Numerous bags of chocolate walnut cookies and Fifth Avenue bars were scattered on the table, unopened because he couldn't figure out how to open them with his elbows. He'd even contemplated eating a candy bar, wrapper and all, but didn't want to risk having his stomach pumped. He was in enough hot water as it was, which was also why he had to refuse the many offers of hand-feeding which had accompanied the caffeine-laden gifts.

It had been a close call—the dime sized bruise had marred his flawless skin and added another ten pages to his medical file. Daniel couldn't figure out why Janet had insisted on putting both of his arms in slings when only his left wrist had been badly bruised, but his suspicions were aroused when Janet had made sure to hand-feed Daniel each meal while in the infirmary. He'd drawn the line at her supervising him when he went to the bathroom although surprisingly, all the male nurses had volunteered for that duty.

Daniel paused mid-suck as the familiar voice of his adored and adorable older, silver haired, male lover Jack - who was wearing his blue fatigues as opposed to Daniel's green ones which didn't match his blue eyes, and darn he hated not matching but that was what happened when you had both arms in slings and were at the mercy of others - came drifting from the doorway.

He smiled as he heard the instantly recognizable, lyrical lilting, surprisingly soprano, well-trained voice singing a camp tune from his youth (Authors' Notes: Yes, despite all his travails, Daniel had gone to summer camp for poor genius orphans of parents who had been killed by falling coverstones. Although he had always wondered why he was the only child there but hey, that's another story for another time).

"The cutest guy I ever saw," Jack sang, with the lyrics echoing in a multitude of voices from the hall, "was sipping coffee through a straw."

"Oh, Jack." Daniel blushed at the romantic serenade, but his elation at seeing his lover appear during their busy workday quickly turned to worry when he caught the expression on Jack's face as he finished the song.

"I have good and bad news," Jack said. "Doc says the slings can come off by the end of the day if you're good and don't overwork and call her when you need to shower and change, but Hammond's grounded you again because you ignored all our warnings."

"Warnings?" Daniel asked quizzically, his blue eyes widening in innocence.

"Memos, Daniel. Memos. In triplicate. Memos about not touching, breathing, entering temples within five miles' distance of the Stargate, speaking to natives… without clearance from the President."

"But, but, but," Daniel gasped in shock and dismay, his blue eyes becoming impossibly wide.

"But me no buts, Daniel. Do you know how much bail it took for us to get you and Teal'c out of the prison over there?" Jack asked, stepping closer. "And besides, look at how badly you were hurt. Don't you realize what that does to me? Now I have to go. We're going off-world."

"Please, Jack," Daniel pleaded, his cerulean or azure blue eyes filling with crystalline tears. "Don't do this."

"I'm sorry, but I have to go," said the stoic 'though heartbroken inside' Air Force Colonel.

Daniel whipped off his slings. "See, I'm healed!" The souvenir manacles which had been hidden from Jack's eyes made a graceful arc through the air, the light catching the edges just so seconds before they slammed into the coffee pot (Authors' Notes: Amy is so not happy with the amount of coffee being wasted in this fic as she protectively holds her own mug to her heaving bosom). Stunned, Jack stood staring at the coffee-covered manacles. "So that's where they got to."

"I w-w-wanted to surprise you, Jack." Daniel whispered in despair, the tears he'd held at bay for so long finally spilling onto his flawless skin.

Jack knew it was time to make his escape while Daniel was distracted by the coffee trickling across the table.

Daniel looked up moments later to notice he'd been left behind -- again. Knowing he would no longer be able to concentrate without his lover in the same building, he began packing his bottomless duffle bag with various archaeological paraphernalia which required his hands-on expertise. Going home to Lumpy ™ who loved him no matter what. Tears streaming from his eyes, Daniel turned off the lights and left the mess for the cleaning crew.

~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~

Two days later.

The house was in disarray with artifacts scattered from one end to the other. Daniel sat with his head resting dejectedly on the kitchen table, the only clean flat surface left. He was lonely. Not even the lure of various ancient cultures was enough to fill the void.

"I miss Jack," Daniel informed Lumpy™, who was seated directly across from Daniel's well-loved, chipped, coffee-stained mug which read 'Archaeologists do it in the Dirt' which had been lovingly presented by Jack on Daniel's last birthday. He sighed and then paused because, for some strange reason, it sounded as if Lumpy™ had sighed as well.

Since he had risen this morning, after tossing and turning all night long thinking about his off world, silver haired lover, who had better not be sharing a tent with Sam or Teal'c for that matter, Daniel had been unable to shake the feeling he was being watched. Daniel reached for his coffee cup and then froze… had Lumpy™ just moved? His right hoof was now hanging over the side of the table and Daniel was actually going to call it to Lumpy's™ attention, when the phone rang.

"Hello?" he answered, hoping against hope that it was Jack, his silver haired, middle aged, sexy as all get out lover, asking what Daniel wanted for dinner.

Instead of Jack's melodious baritone voice coming through the wires, Daniel heard a just-as-familiar and just as loved dulcet tone. "Mhuirnin?"

"Oh, Rose," Daniel sobbed, the stress of holding back his emotions for forty-eight hours overwhelmed him and he cracked like an egg. "They've left—again," he managed between broken sobs, his magnificent, hairless chest heaving with angst.

"Oh, my, sweetheart… I'll be right over."

Daniel clutched the phone to his ear. "Thank you, Rose. At least you never leave anyone behind."

"That's what moms are for."

~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~

Rose hung up the phone, furious with her errant, silver haired son's total disregard for the best thing in his life. Daniel. Such callousness was not a maternal trait, but one he must have inherited from his father's side.

She speed-dialed the airlines, booked the next available flight, which conveniently was within the hour. She grabbed her prepared bag, hit speed dial two which was the local cab company, grabbed her pocketbook, and waited impatiently for the cab to round the corner. Frustrated at the ten minute drive to the airport, the only conversation she made with Joe, her regular driver, was to put the three figured bill onto her tab.

Thankfully, the plane hit a tailwind and she arrived in Colorado Springs before she left, a fact she would have to discuss with Sam, the blue (corn flower, not cerulean) eyed, blonde astrophysicist and national treasure who had been warned by Rose to keep her hands off Jack. Rose had a sneaking suspicion that Teal'c, the mocha-skinned Hercules, would have something to say about it if Sam so much as looked at Jack. For that matter, so would Janet. She was glad they were keeping things in the family.

Rose hustled through the airport, her purple paisley monstrosity of a pre-packed bag knocking over other patrons with a finesse that would have put OJ Simpson in his old rent-a-car commercials (Authors' Notes: once again we have revealed our age) to shame. Spotting the perfectly drawn rose being held by a quite attractive liveried driver (hey, she was old, not dead), Rose was bustled into the waiting vehicle and whisked away to her son's and his attractive younger lover's humble abode.

Meanwhile back at the SGC, Texan General George Hammond was wracked with guilt as he thought of his favorite civilian (although he told everyone he didn't play favorites, everyone knew Daniel got away with murder when anyone else would have had their ass kicked through the 'Gate) languishing away at home—well not really his home - Jack's home - but don't ask, don't tell, could be a chancy proposition—while the rest of SG-1 was off-world having fun. Quickly deciding on his course of action, Hammond picked up the phone and ordered Chinese and Mexican and Greek and pizza with a plan for a quick stop at Starbucks on the way for Daniel's coffee fix if the food didn't work. With fifteen minutes to spare to pick up every order, George left toot sweet (which means he left right away).

George pulled behind the waxed-to-a-high-gloss shine Avalanche or Thunderbird (Authors' Notes: we couldn't decide which car was in the driveway). As George turned his car off, a liveried car service pulled up to the curb (Authors' Notes: really it's a gutter not a curb but we weren't sure if anyone else would notice). Doing something only another Texan could accomplish, George stepped out of the car laden with bags, boxes and bottles (Authors' Notes: not bottles of beer but soft drinks and water), coffee and a precariously perched bag of chocolate walnut cookies. His eyes automatically were drawn to the very attractive woman who looked like a softer more feminine version of his favorite Air Force colonel who was currently off-world (Authors' Notes: and we don’t mean Sam who is still a major). He took in her shapely figure. Damn, but Jack would look good in a dress.

Rose paused at the edge of the lawn, her eyes riveted on the very attractive gentleman in uniform waiting at the door. She knew he was from Texas based on the way he held the boxes, bags and bottles. Her heart gave a flutter and it wasn't because she'd forgotten to take her heart medicine. Who could this attractive, mysterious man in uniform be? Why hadn't Jack ever introduced them? She hastened up the front walk so she could assist the debonair Texan with the precariously balanced cookie bag - and she recognized the bag as coming from Daniel's favorite bakery so she knew it was filled with chocolate walnut cookies.

"Here let me help you," the mysterious woman said demurely to George. Her delicate fingers with their shell-pink nails on the ends of her dainty hands plucked the bag of chocolate walnut cookies from the top of the pyramid of boxes, bags, and bottles.

"What a relief," George thought.

"Why thank you kindly, ma'am," George said. He wasn't wearing a hat, but if he had been he would have tipped it to her. And even with his hands full he would have been able to do it because he's from Texas.

Rose blushed charmingly and fluttered her eyelashes. Her heart went pitter-patter and she wondered where the violin music was coming from. She longed to be dancing in the mysterious stranger's arms. But alas, they were filled with boxes, bags, and bottles as only a Texan can carry them.

George felt a strange tickling sensation in his belly and he was pretty sure it wasn't gas. Angelic harp music rang in his ears as he beheld the wonder of the warm chocolate, hazelnut, mocha, sepia, mahogany Jack O'Neill-like eyes gazing at him. He'd never realized that Jack's eyes held so many shades found in the 96 color Crayola crayon box he used when coloring with his granddaughters. He had a strange urge to go home and check it out, but before he could do so, the door opened as if by magic, but it was only Daniel who is only magical for Jack, well, and also for Paul Davis and a whole bunch of other folks spread throughout the universe. But that's yet another story for another time.

"Oh, hi Rose. You came," he sobbed.

Rose's heart broke as she took in the disheveled appearance of her favorite archeologist cum (Authors' Notes: and get your minds out of the gutter, we're not that far into the story yet) son-in-law without the ring. Dark circles marred the pale perfection of his gaunt cheeks. By the way his pants hung so low on his hips Rose could tell that the man leaning heavily on the door had lost at least 20 pounds. She mentally rubbed her hands in glee at the prospect of nursing the innocent-looking lost soul before her back to health. Visions of best-selling books and appearances on Oprah flashed through her mind at the thought of the Doctor Daniel Jackson diet—20 pounds overnight, what more could any woman want? Other than the Texan hunk standing beside her.

Armed with suitcase, purse, and bag of chocolate walnut cookies, Rose gingerly gathered poor Daniel into her arms, squeezing gently so she wouldn't bruise or break his ribs. However, the purse perched precariously on her shoulder slithered down her shapely arm and hit Daniel behind the knees, taking them both down into an ungainly heap.

Daniel grimaced from his (Authors' Notes: Surprise Test: he's on his back, is he supine? Or prone? Or do you not really care since Daniel's down for the count) position but soldiered on and looked up at George. "Hello, General Hammond," he sighed. "To what do I owe the honor of this visit?" he asked, trying to untangle himself from Jack's mother. He opened the bag of cookies, his heart breaking into as many pieces as the cookies. "It's just not fair!" He sobbed uncontrollably at the thought of having to eat crumbs, but hey, that was his life. Crumbs instead of the whole enchilada.

George reached down, bypassing Daniel's outstretched hand to help Rose up, impressively shifting his packages to one arm in the hopes of impressing the breath-taking woman . The older woman stood with a grace that belied her age.

"So," George said, ignoring Daniel's pleading eyes, "want to get married?"

"But sir, I'm already spoken for," Daniel replied with an attractive, bi-dimpled, shy, coy flash of blinding, pearly white teeth.

"Sorry, I didn't mean you, son," General Hammond replied as he tore his gaze away from Rose's shapely, surprisingly pert derriere, "I meant this lovely vision standing before me." In a move that Teal'c had spent hours instructing him in, he wagged his eyebrows with great finesse.

"Oh," Daniel replied meekly, struggling to roll onto his side, gasping in pain, as previously snoozing injuries awoke with a vengeance as a result of Rose's klutziness and extremely large purse.

"Use your shoulder, son," Rose replied, her gaze never leaving the Texan hunk who was assisting her. "It'll work better. Or if not," she said, "I'm sure Janet must have given you a healthy supply of pain pills." She stepped stylishly and quite agilely over her son-in-law sans ring's body.

~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~

Hours later.

George stopped kissing the ruby red lips of the woman of his dreams. He looked around the room, his eyes widening. "Do you feel like someone is watching us?"

Rose asked, slightly alarmed. "Do you mean Daniel? I think he's still outside."

George answered, "No, not Daniel, I know he's still outside… I mean something a tad more evil than Daniel."

"You can't possibly mean that cute little Scarlett?"

"No," George replied impatiently. "Something sinister."

They both froze, turned, and caught the glance of a pair of beady brown eyes angrily taking in their disheveled appearance.

"Mom! What the hell are you doing here and why the hell did I have to step over Daniel to get into the house? And, Sir, that's my mother you're manhandling."

At the mention of his name, Daniel dragged himself into the room, whimpering pathetically (Authors' Notes: or "pathetically whimpering"; as we weren't sure which to use, comments on this would be appreciated since our beta just said *trust me* with no explanation. Which led those of us to believe that she had not a friggin' clue. Sorta like why is Daniel in Season 9 now living in an apartment - see previously mentioned con report for further clarification).

In the flurry of embarrassing activity that followed, no one in the room noticed the baleful glare as a tiny stuffed head turned towards them, the inner reflection of evilness escaped from behind the black plastic orbs. Unbeknownst to the Tau'ri in the room, the Goa'uld promised revenge for trapping him within the confines of a spineless fluff-filled, inanimate kek Cron'la-has (Authors' Notes: translation - weak Raven's bitch—it's actually amazing what you can find online)

Plied with pain pills for his aches and Tylenol for his low-grade fever from being outside for hours, and alcohol just for being damned cute when drunk, Daniel leaned crookedly against the wall as he watched Jack pace back and forth as he wagged his finger at his mother and commanding officer.

"Colonel, before you start to yell," Hammond cautioned, "I plan on making an honest woman out of your mother. Even before our lips locked, I asked her to marry me."

Jack turned and vomited into the sink while Daniel sank down onto his haunches, laughing hysterically.

"Okay, that's enough beer for you," Hammond said as he removed the half-empty bottle of beer from Daniel's nerveless fingers.

Tapping the middle of his forehead as if he were hitting the Delete key, Jack mumbled "Delete Delete Delete" as a mantra, trying to force those visuals out of his brain. How was he ever to face this man in a briefing again after catching him with his hand down his mother's blouse? He turned and vomited into the sink again, bringing up yesterday's meal and the previous day's… he has a slow digestion, don't you know?

"Don't worry, you'll have at least 24 hours to plan the wedding," Rose said gently as she wiped Jack's sweaty forehead with her ever-present tissue. "The only thing we ask is that you guys wear those leather kilts I sent you last Christmas."

Jack panicked momentarily, forgetting where he had stashed those wonderful, kinky outfits and whether the chains and whips had left marks on them. He saw the panicked expression on Daniel's face and realized he'd come to the same realization.

"That works," Jack said, mentally calculating how long it would take to run the kilts to the dry cleaners.

Daniel stood and using the countertop for support, he wobbled, paused, wobbled some more and threw his hand to his forehead in a very dramatic fashion and weakly called to his lover, "Jack… I'm fixing to have a falling out spell." (Authors' Notes: for those of you not currently or previously residing in the southern half of the United States, this means Daniel is getting ready to pass out with a great deal of flair. And if you can't tell by the tone of this paragraph, Amy, our Georgia Peach and who was accused of being from 'South London' {see con report}, is currently in control of the laptop).

Jack rushed to Daniel's aid. "Mom, we'll have to finish this conversation tomorrow, Daniel needs his rest. I suggest we all sleep on it." As soon as the sentence left his mouth he regretted it as the unwanted visual of his mother and commanding officer once again assaulted his brain. Dropping Daniel, he raced for the sink, barely making it in time before his stomach rebelled once again.

"Have you mentioned your recurring upset stomach to Janet, dear?" Rose asked, stepping over Daniel to reach Jack, wiping his mouth this time with the ever-present tissue.

"Mo—om," Jack whined, "get a fresh one."

Rose chuckled maternally and patted Jack's cheek (Authors' Notes: the one on his face) while thinking she'd like to get her hands on George's lower one.

Jack realized the only way to keep the rest of his stomach contents in place was to leave the room, so he scooped up the still whimpering Daniel and flung him over his shoulder in the ever popular fireman's carry. He grabbed Lumpy™ as he strode manfully past the counter and tucked him under his arm on the way to his and Daniel's love nest (Authors' Notes: aka their bedroom).

Jack tossed Daniel onto the bed, eliciting a moan that turned into a giggle.

"Oh, you want to have fun," Daniel said, fluttering those beautiful long eyelashes.

"No. I want to know why my mother and my commanding officer have been playing tonsil hockey with one another."

The stony-faced former Special Ops, Air Force Colonel squealed like a girl when the younger, virile, slightly injured, feverish, owner of two or three PhD's linguist /slash/ archaeologist grabbed his national treasures through his acid washed, form-fitting jeans that had been recommended on Queer Eye for the Straight Guy even though he was already queer so he didn't know why he was watching the show for fashion advice since his own sense of style was quite good already.

"Boys just want to have fun," Daniel giggled, holding Jack firmly in place. Thank God for being ambidextrous. "Wow, these jeans are really soft," Daniel said, rubbing his long, agile fingers up and down Jack's leg. "Can your hot rod come out of the garage and play tonight?"

"Ewww, Daniel. Not with my mother in the next room. What kind of a guy do you think I am?" Jack blushed modestly.

"Even if I pump you full of gas?" Daniel asked, squeezing harder.

"Honey, baby, cupcake, stud muffin, angel, sweetpea, there's not enough fuel in the world," Jack sighed. He handed Daniel Lumpy™. "Here, keep yourself entertained."

Daniel's soft, kissable, luscious, biteable and suckable lips formed a regretful moue. "But Jack. I need you."

"Sorry, Dannyboy, Space Monkey, Plant Boy, Love of my life, it just isn't gonna happen tonight."

Daniel reached over into the drawer on the night table and pulled out a bottle of Viagra. "Is this the problem, big guy?" Daniel chortled at his own joke. "Here I come to save the day…" he sang.

Jack grabbed it out of his hands and threw it back in the drawers. "No. That's not the problem. My mom is my problem. My commanding officer is my problem. My mom and my commanding officer doing the horizontal tango is a real big problem."

Daniel grabbed the trash can and pushed it closer to Jack. "Okay. Be like that," he sulked. (Authors' Notes: very attractively, we might add.) "I don't care. I have Lumpy™ and he's always my friend no matter what."

(Authors' Notes: Insert foreboding music here---think people in haunted houses with one door they're told not to open but they run right to it and open it anyway---)

Da da da dum. (Authors' Notes:—we're not too sure if this is the exact way you spell it, but use your imaginations.)

Little did Daniel (Authors' Notes: and the rest of the people suckered into reading this fic) know the strange turn of events about to unfold.

Jack gave both of them a quick kiss on their foreheads, wiping the fuzz from his mouth afterwards. "Sleep tight. Don't let the bedbugs bite." It must have been a strange trick of the light because it appeared as if Lumpy's™ eyes glowed momentarily, just like a Goa'uld's. Jack shook his head. It was probably a hallucination caused by his dehydration from vomiting. (Authors' Notes: our medical beta said this isn't possible, but hey, it's science fiction, and rules were made for breaking. Since the show does it, then so can we. So there.)

Daniel closed his eyes which just as suddenly shot open when something undulated against his shoulder. "Had Jack come back?" he thought with growing ardor while growing harder. For a second he thought he was hallucinating due to dehydration but then he remembered that he hadn't vomited this time around. (Authors' Notes: much to the chagrin of JoaG and devra)

With an impending sense of doom, Daniel realized Jack wasn't that fuzzy even on a good day and before he had a chance to call out in alarm, a soft stuffed paw hoof slammed into his mouth with as much force as a stuffed hoof can. Before he had chance to grab it and throw it off, his arm was forced back and he heard the click of the cuffs as he was manacled to the headboard. Jack was going to be pissed, although the fact that the silk bandana and boonie were still safely under the bed might alleviate some jealousy.

"This can't be true… this can't be happening," Daniel thought. At that point Lumpy™ leaned menacingly into Daniel’s disbelieving face. As the beady, black, plastic eyes glowed, Daniel realized this was not a scenario that boded well for any kind of sex tonight, kinky or otherwise and he was in hot water to boot.

"JACK"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Authors' Notes: our beta says we shouldn't do this in most fics but in this one she encouraged the overuse of exclamation points) Daniel cried out in terror, when the adrenaline rush headed north instead of south. At the sound of Daniel's panicked cry, Lumpy™ quickly collapsed into a boneless heap which wasn't hard to do considering he has no skeletal structure.

Jack rushed in, his eyes widening at the sight of Daniel handcuffed to the headboard. He rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation. "Daniel, I said, not tonight."

"Jack, it was Lumpy™. Lumpy™ attacked me. He's a Goa'uld. I saw his eyes glow!" Daniel's chest heaved with the exertion. Jack lovingly cupped Daniel's sweaty, five o'clock shadow (even though it was only four fifty five), cheek. Gentle, strong fingers stroked the soft as a baby's bottom skin.

"Oh Danny… Danny… Danny. You're on medication. Now close those baby blues and go back to sleep."


"Yes, Daniel?"

"Handcuffs. Remove them, please."

Jack hesitated at the luscious sight spread out before him before he reluctantly did his lover's bidding. Janet was going to kill him. Daniel's wrist was bruised even more. Instead of a dime-sized mark, it had grown to the size of a penny.

"Please take Lumpy™ with you. I'm not comfortable with him in bed any longer."

"Don't be silly, Daniel." Jack placed the once-beloved stuffed animal back in Daniel's arms, closing them around Lumpy's™ hump. "Now kiss and make up."

Daniel clamped his lips together, sealed tight. So tightly there were no lips to be seen. He shook his head vigorously, stifling a weak whimper and frisson of fear. There was no way he could ever sleep again!

Shaking his head at the childish behavior of his much younger lover, Jack went to confront his mother and her new found beau from Texas.

Just as he exited the bedroom door, he was slammed against the opposite wall by something soft and yielding. Why it was Lumpy™! Imagine that!

He looked down to see Lumpy™ flopping around like a stuffed camel without any bones and a Goa'uld inside it. Daniel was right, as he usually was and Jack jumped over the still slithering camel to check on his lover's status horrified that he had left Daniel behind with a Goa'uld. Daniel lay quivering in a heap on the floor like a bowl of cerulean blue Jello, the type that Carter liked, because throwing a stuffed camel with a Goa'uld inside of it, is harder than it looks and sapped all of his remaining strength (Authors' Notes: and we the writers also happen to adore a quivering mass of Daniel.)

"I'm so sorry," Jack exclaimed, bending painfully on forty year old something knees (Authors' Notes: even though we know he's older but for canon's sake we’re going with the forty something lie) scooping the younger man (Authors' Notes: who really *is* a younger man) into his arms. "Please forgive me," Jack sobbed. "Don't worry, Danny, something of the host survives. We'll take Lumpy™ to Cimmeria if we have to!"

Jack propped Daniel's weakened body against the nightstand and pulled out from his underwear drawer that ever handy zat because the drawer was too small for the P-90 plus the weapon was hidden in the kitchen and at the moment he really would rather face the Goa'uld than his mom and future dad. Stealthily, in a move from his younger covert days, Jack silently approached Lumpy™ as he still tried to slither towards the bedroom.

Jack straddled the possessed stuffed camel and pointed the weapon carefully between his legs.

The sound of Daniel's horrified screech was drowned out by the approaching squadron of jets and helicopters. With Lumpy™ pinned between his legs (Authors' Notes: which is just the place the writers *and* Daniel would like to be), Jack watched as the cavalry descended through windows and doors of his once quiet and immaculate house.

All members of the SGC, from the lowly men outside who we see every week patrolling in front of the tunnel entrance, to Teal'c and Carter, and Fraiser, with pen light shining threateningly, Paul *attractive man* Davis, Siler with his handy-dandy wrench, the ever lovely though very strange and extremely annoying Freya accompanied by Jacob /slash/ Selmak, streamed from every nook and cranny, bypassing the enamored woman sitting on top of a familiar-looking man at the kitchen table. A bright flash from the direction of the living room, a cloud of soot and with a hearty "ho ho ho," Thor made an appearance. The crowd broke out in raucous laughter at Thor's "I always wanted to do that."

As Thor brushed the soot from his naked, sexy, sexless body he said, "Stand aside, O'Neill, Daniel Jackson's life is not in danger, only his virtue."

"Huh?" was Jack intelligent reply.

Conversation stopped and all heads turned towards the kitchen and the familiar sound of the beloved man from Texas as he pleaded plaintively, "You don't have to touch, I'm just going to show you my love stick, honey."

"Oh, crap," (Authors' Notes: we really wanted to use "shit" but this may wind up in the Family Section of the SG fanfic awards next year and we need to be really, really careful about language). Jack tightened his ankles around Lumpy's™ neck, threatening him with a wave of his zat. "Move and you're history," he warned, though he really would rather be aiming the zat at the owner of said love stick.

Both Jacob Carter and Daniel screamed at the same time. "Don't shoot."


Collagen-lipped Freya stepped forth and in her melodious, seductive voice stated, "I apologize for Anise. We argued and she left angry, telling me that she was going to be with her Daniel."

Paul Davis and Jack stated simultaneously, "Her Daniel?"

"Anise?" Daniel whispered in a shocked voice, staring at Lumpy™ who suddenly ducked his head between his paws. A high-pitched, whimpering sound came out of Lumpy's™ head (Authors' Notes: considering that Lumpy™ is a stuffed animal, the sound couldn't come out of his mouth since it's sewn shut, which leads us to wonder which end of the camel Anise used to enter him, but that's a story for another day).

"How did that snake get into the—Daniel, did you bring work home with you again?"

A becoming blush slowly spread from the back of Daniel's neck, coloring the tips of his ears and giving his cheeks a rosy, healthy glow which hi-lighted his unblinking, glare-free glasses-clad eyes for a short moment.

Paul Davis' sigh echoed around the room, eliciting a glare from Jack. And Lumpy™.

"Oh for crying out loud. Daniel, how many times have I warned you about bringing home Goa'uld-infested artifacts? You don't know where it's been."

Lumpy™ /slash/ Anise squealed a couple of times.

"Okay, Tok'ra-infected artifacts," Jack corrected. "But a snake's a snake. No offense, Jacob."

The click click of stilettos (bought from the on-line Fredrick's of Hollywood catalogue) heralded the arrival of the SGC's petite (Authors' Notes: we know we've already said that but we figured it needed repeating) chief medical officer. She made such an impressive entrance that the normally laid-back expressionless Selmak threw out a wolf whistle and said, "Damn Frasier... you could put someone's eye out with those heels."

Fraiser leaned down and grabbed the possessed object from between Jack's legs (Authors’ Notes: Lumpy™ we mean). Holding the squirming stuffed Tok’ra'ed toy at arm's length with disgust, she tilted her head at Freya and ordered, "Come with me, honey. I need an assistant with this surgery."

"No! What are you gonna do to Lumpy™?" Daniel whimpered. Jack hurriedly knelt beside his younger, damn good looking and distraught lover, and pulled him into an embrace. Daniel buried his face into Jack's hard, comforting, muscular shoulder.

"Don't look, Danny, don't look," Jack comforted his sobbing, weeping, sniveling, sniffing and downright wimpy lover as Janet and Freya walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind them with a resounding finality.

Daniel broke away from Jack's embrace and crawled over to the door on knees and elbows, taking care not to re-injure his bruised wrists for the third time. The sounds coming from behind the door were terrible to hear, drowning out the just as terrible smooching noises emanating from the kitchen. All in attendance, except for the two in the kitchen, subconsciously leaned away from the bathroom door, identical looks of horror stamped on all their faces.

Even Jack's Herculean strength could not hold Daniel back when the bathroom door finally opened. Avoiding the deadly danger of Fraiser's stiletto heels, Daniel maneuvered himself into the bathroom amidst the stuffing of what was left of Lumpy's™ insides. Daniel's scream of horror was deafening, and all rushed into the miniscule bathroom.

"I'm fine," Freya /slash/ Anise stated as all brushed past her to view the horror of a de-Tok’ra’ed stuffed toy. In unison, all turned aside in revulsion, except Daniel, who scooped the even limper-than normal, stuffingless stuffed animal.

"L... Lumpy," Daniel sobbed brokenheartedly into the limp neck. In a flash of light, Daniel, Lumpy™ and Thor disappeared. Seconds later, the discarded stuffing followed, as an afterthought.

With the Jeopardy theme playing in the back of everyone's minds, they filed out of the narrow confines of the bathroom, overflowing into the kitchen, wondering amongst themselves if they had time to make a pot of coffee or three and grab a quick bite to eat.

With much grumbling and complaining, but done respectfully considering this *was* General Hammond, without comment, they picked up the fallen food items that had been knocked to the floor during the couple's amorous actions.

Jack kept his anger in check as Paul Davis smirkingly referred to Jack as Colonel Jack O'Neill-Hammond. Siler, the ever-prepared Technician and owner of the biggest wrench ever created, extracted from his pocket a digital camera, of which Jack was positive the memory card was going to be filled to capacity by the end of the day and by tomorrow, before the rise of the sun, pics of his mom and the man who sat at the head of the briefing table, would be strewn all over the World Wide Web.

"Sir," Jack hissed, "please, not in front of the people we work with."

Siler moved around the table, snapping away diligently as he re-arranged limbs when they didn't fit in his viewfinder. Just as Jack was preparing to forcibly separate the general from his mother, in another flash of light, the camera disappeared, and Thor, Daniel and Lumpy™ reappeared. Unbeknownst to Jack, Thor planned to put those pictures on the Intergalactic-Wide-Web, aka IWW.

Jack enveloped his stunned lover into his arms, crushing Lumpy™ between their two hot bodies. Full of mirth as Lumpy's™ re-stuffed tail tickled Jack's national treasures through his acid washed, form fitting jeans, "I'm so glad you and Lumpy are all right." Jack whispered into a shell-like lobeless ear. Quickly changing the subject, Jack turned to face the grey, hairless, sexless though sexy Thor. "Hey buddy, how ya been?"

"O'Neill, I am most happy to see you once again," Thor replied and gave a small bow. His heart (or whatever it is that Asgard have) began breaking all over again as he caught sight of the way O'Neill held Daniel Jackson in his arms. Unrequited love was a bitch. Maybe, just maybe, the plan he had in mind would bring Jack rushing into his arms (or whatever it is that Asgard have). "O'Neill, I have a proposition for you."

"Yeah?" Jack asked warily. He didn't trust Thor. Sometimes the alien gave him the strangest looks almost as if he wanted to whisk Jack away to some secret Asgard love nest.

"I have recently been ordained as a minister by the Sexy Lovers' Unite Together IWW website, otherwise know as SLUT.intg, therefore I can unite your mother and General Hammond in everlasting bliss."

"Oh that's wonderful," Rose exclaimed. "Hammy, let's get hitched right away!"

"Anything you want, my dearest," Hammond said with a fond grin.

"Would you like the supersaver or deluxe package?" Thor asked, whisking a notebook out of thin air.

"Oh deluxe," Rose said. "It would be nice to do it this time without a shotgun held to my groom's head."

"Ewwww!" Jack moaned. "Too much information, Mom."

"You mean you never counted back?" Rose retorted. "I didn't think you were that dense. Did you really think you were born five months early?"

"I'm thinking SLUT might be a good acronym," Daniel muttered into Jack's ear.

"Hey, that's my mom you're talking about," Jack said, "but you do have a point."

A blinding flash of light and suddenly without warning they were all standing on the Daniel Jackson (Authors' Notes: Thor's ship, not on Daniel Jackson per se otherwise they'd have broken every bone in his body which not even stiletto heeled Janet Fraiser could have repaired.)

"Wait!" Daniel yelled. Everyone froze, wondering what injury the archaeologist had suffered now. "Um, Rose said she wanted us to wear leather kilts."


"Leather, Jack. Leather," Daniel said, emphasizing each syllable.

"I can clothe you and your young lover, O'Neill," Thor offered. He was sure Daniel Jackson and O'Neill wouldn't be able to find the hidden camera in the dressing room. And if he couldn't have O'Neill in person, at least he could make a satisfactory hologram and clone to be used at a later date.

Five minutes later (or however it is that Asgard keep time—this sentence only makes sense when said with the right inflection—or if said between the hours of 7am and 1100 pm.) Jack and Daniel reappeared shirtless, and in leather kilts, and all those present resisted the urge to peek under said kilts. As if their prayers were heard, an Oma-like breeze wafted through the Daniel Jackson's cabin (the ship not the person) and both of their kilts lifted heavenward, confirming the fact that Daniel was not circumcised. Paul Davis swooned but no one seemed to notice except the people who had been standing behind him as they tripped over his prone body in their rush to get a closer look at the kilt-clad Adonises.

For another scrumptious closer look, Paul Davis used his fake swoon to slither among the legs of the gathering throng, getting within inches of his prize before Fraiser's stiletto heels pinned his hand to the deck.

"Ow," he screamed.

"Ooops, so sorry," the petite, brunette slash redhead apologized. "Though it serves you right, trying to cut ahead," she answered, digging her heel a little deeper into his knuckles.

"My time is valuable," Thor announced. He waved his hand and trumpeters heralded and harpers harped through the Muzak intercom on the ship. Flowers appeared, Daniel sneezed, which again forced his kilt to undulate enticingly around his thighs as the crowd cheered as one.

"Can't you keep it down," Jack hissed, pulling at the back of Daniel's mini kilt.

"Funny, that wasn't your sentiment the other night," Daniel said with a trembling lower lip.

Jack tugged in annoyance at his kilt which, for some odd reason, seemed to be shrinking at an uncomfortably rapid pace. "Can we hurry this along," Jack pleaded, fearing public lewdness among the SGC personnel, as well as a public hard on as he gazed towards his nubile young lover's own shrinking leather apparel. Thoughts of manacles, silk bandanas and boonies rushed through his mind and now throbbing manhood.

"As you wish," Thor sighed.

A floating sausage-like balloon appeared then backtracked, found Daniel and gave her friend a very enthusiastic greeting which caused Daniel to blush and Jack to flush.

"I didn't realize Scarlett could smile," Rose commented as the creature floated languishly above the crowd.

Sam fluffed her hair, leaning over to whisper to Fraiser, who due to her heels could now meet her friend's heaving bosom. (Authors' Notes: due to the fact most of us write slash, the word bosom does not appear too often in our fics. So please excuse our fixation with it here.). "Check out the FF (Authors' Notes: for those of you who aren't familiar with these initials, FF, Amy has informed us, stand for freshly fucked—okay there goes our Family nomination for the SG fanfic awards) look on Scarlett's face."

"Yes," Paul Davis agreed, from his place on the floor. "The lucky thing."

"Okay, the meter's running," Thor said impatiently. "You've only chosen the deluxe package, which means we have fifteen minutes to get this thing over with."

Hammond and Rose rushed up the aisle, with Scar spitting half chewed flower petals at their feet. Daniel followed sedately behind with Lumpy™ tucked under his arm, the stuffed animal's soft fur, rubbing seductively across his freshly shaved chest. A vision of manacles, silk bandanas, boonies and a ménage à deux et demi (Authors' Notes and translation: Menage à 2 ½) flashed through his mind.

Jack watched Daniel's sashaying behind as he followed behind, tugging at the still ever shrinking kilt. Daniel took his place next to Hammond while Jack stood at attention (his body not his prick, that will cum later) next to his mother, glaring at Scarlett who had wound herself around Daniel's ankles and was staring up in awe at Daniel's uncircumcised manhood.

Paul Davis fainted and this time it was for real.

Thor checked the clock hanging on the wall of the Daniel Jackson (ship not person). "Okay. Do you Hammond of Texas and owner of all things great and large take this Tau'ri mother of Jack O'Neill and mother-in-law without a ring of Daniel Jackson to be your mate?"

"Eww," Jack commented, wondering where the nearest garbage pail or sink or air lock was.

Daniel and Jack leaned down simultaneously to check the size of Hammond's shoes, because everyone knows what big feet mean and were thoroughly impressed.

"Mom, you lucky dog, you," Jack said, understanding for the first time exactly what his mother saw in the bald headed man from Texas with the large feet and not so small hands.

"Answer the little grey man," Rose reminded her soon-to-be-bed partner, rubbing her heaving bosom against his arm.

"Of course, I do," Hammond answered, his voice deep and seductive while visions of manacles, silk bandanas and cowboy hats galloped through his brain.

"Do you, Mother of Jack O'Neill—"

"Yes, yes, yes, I do," Rose answered impatiently, wanting to get the owner of the love stick in bed pronto.

"Okay," Thor shrugged, "you may kiss the bride."

"Yee haw!" Hammond yelled before sweeping Rose off her feet and playing a game of tonsil hockey in front of the cheering (minus one) crowd (this is just a bit too much for Jack's psyche to handle).

The kiss was interrupted by Daniel's squawk of surprise as Scar began to spiral her way up his shapely, damn good looking, long, lean, and long (Authors' Notes: I know we said that already but damn those appendages are never ending) legs. Jack stepped forward to lend assistance, but Daniel used Lumpy™ to beat off Scarlett, who flew away in a disappointed huff making raspberry sounds at Daniel and Lumpy™.

The happy couple disappeared in a flash of blinding, white light followed by everyone winking out one by one until only Jack, Daniel, their almost non existent kilts, and Lumpy™ were left.

Thor expectantly stretched out his hand and Jack patted down his now-bare thighs. "May I ask where the hell you expect me to carry a wallet in this thing?"

"I also work on the barter system," Thor said suggestively with a wiggle of nonexistent hips and a waggle of nonexistent eyebrows.

Jack and Daniel looked at each other in dismay. "Oy," Jack said. "Sometimes it doesn't pay to get up in the morning."

"Funny," Daniel replied, "that's not what you said yesterday."

Fade to Black


The End!

Authors' Comments: Cameo appearances by Lumpy™ the Camel and Scar the flying alien. With a special guest appearance by Rose O’Neill. Thank yous to devra for being our camp hostess, her husband for pulling one more wireless card out of his hat, and her neighbors for not calling the cops at the loud raucous bursts of laughter at all hours.

On a serious note, we’d like to dedicate this fic to Darcy, who was with us in spirit although she was better off being safely tucked away across the state. As always, thanks to JoaG for beta’ing this fic, and let’s just say she’s never going to be the same again.


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