Stargate -- "Je Ne Regrette Rien"
slash_100, prompt 010: Years
big damn table
From my September Prompt Me!
dawning_star: SG-1, Jack/Daniel, "After all this time..."
"After everything, do you regret that we opened the 'gate?"
Je Ne Regrette Rien | PG | 908 words | complete
Jack escaped the jabber of small talk and relentless reporters and snuck out onto the balcony. It was cold, with the slightest bite of oncoming snow in the air, but it felt good after the stuffiness of the party. Fifteen years after that first mission-give or take-and the program was going public. He'd never expected revealing a secret would be so much work.
He heard the tapping of Daniel's cane, and his tense shoulders relaxed even more. Daniel had been in Washington for almost a week already, but they'd barely seen each other. "Remind me to shoot whoever decided it was a good idea to do the big reveal in December 2012," he said, leaning on the railing next to Jack and looking out over the snowy grounds. "If one more reporter asks me about the end of the Mayan calendar, I won't be held responsible for my actions."
"Oh, and I thought you, of all people, would think it was funny," Jack said, grinning when Daniel lightly shoved his shoulder. "I’m sure Teal'c would do the honors if you couldn't bear to shoot an old friend." Daniel muttered something that was probably rude and they lapsed into comfortable silence. "How's the leg?" Jack asked after a while.
"About as good as it's going to get," Daniel said with a slight, rueful smile. "The cartilage graft took, but there's nothing they can do about the tendons that tore, and the doctors say that it's likely I'll never be able to get enough muscle mass to fully support my weight." Daniel was barely hanging on when they'd brought him back, again; Jack was glad for even the smallest of favors. "It figures it would be Pegasus that would finally ground me, doesn't it?"
"I always had a bad feeling about that place," Jack said firmly. "I may be paranoid, but I'm rarely wrong."
"Oh, you're definitely paranoid," Daniel said with a laugh. He shifted his weight so he was mere inches away from Jack. He imagined he could feel the heat radiating from his suit-clad shoulder; Daniel had always run hot, much to the chagrin of generations of infirmary staff. "After all this time," Daniel began, startling Jack out of his reverie. "After everything, do you regret that we opened the 'gate?"
Unbidden, years of missions-good and bad-flashed through Jack's mind. All the men and women who had died protecting their planet. The shit they had stirred up as they bumbled around three galaxies. "Nope," he said. "Do you?"
"I used to," Daniel admitted quietly. "But then I realized how much I would have missed out on. And we changed things for the better, I think. How many people can say that?"
"Not nearly enough," Jack said firmly. "I'd probably be dead now, if not for Abydos," he admitted. "If not for you. I don't think even I realized how close I was to eating my gun until I got back and suddenly didn't want to anymore."
Daniel smiled slightly and touched Jack’s hand, a gentle, understanding pressure. "I don't usually believe in serendipity," he began, and Jack nodded. "As crazy as it's all been, I'm glad. For the chances we've had."
Jack turned to look back into the party, leaning back against the railing. There was something else he had to say, but he couldn't look at Daniel when he did. "And the ones we haven't?" he asked.
Despite the cryptic question, Jack was sure Daniel knew exactly what he was talking about. He could almost imagine Daniel's surprised expression; this wasn't something they'd ever talked about before, and it was usually Jack shutting it down. "Bad timing," Daniel said finally, and it was clear he was choosing his words carefully. "I've learned over the years that while just about everything is possible, some things just aren't meant to happen."
"But I think everyone deserves to be happy," Jack countered. From where he was standing, he could see Carter-a General now, and wasn't that scary-standing just a little too close to Mitchell, and Teal'c with a beaming, pregnant Ishta on his arm. He couldn't see her, but he knew Mal Doran was back there somewhere, her most recent eye candy in tow. Jack had to admit it: she made one hell of a cougar, and she had excellent taste.
"Not everyone gets what they deserve," Daniel said, and Jack could probably guess at a few of the people he was thinking of.
"I retired," Jack said suddenly, nervousness clear in his voice. "As of this morning, I'm officially Lieutenant General Jack O'Neill, Retired. And I plan to stay that way. This time," he added.
"I guess congratulations are in order, then," Daniel said. It was a question, really, but one only Jack would have understood.
"I'm tired," Jack said. "Tired of wanting and not having." He turned to face Daniel. "I think we've earned our happily ever after, don't you?"
"Jack?" Daniel said, and the hope in his voice was heartbreaking.
"Yes, Daniel," Jack said, cupping the side of Daniel's face. Distantly, he noticed that the skin under his palm was just starting to roughen with the night's stubble. And then, not caring that he was still in uniform, not caring that the party was less than ten feet and a set of glass doors away, Jack closed the scant few inches between them and they kissed.
Nope, no regrets at all.
Feedback is better than chocolate.
big damn table
From my September Prompt Me!
dawning_star: SG-1, Jack/Daniel, "After all this time..."
"After everything, do you regret that we opened the 'gate?"
Je Ne Regrette Rien | PG | 908 words | complete
Jack escaped the jabber of small talk and relentless reporters and snuck out onto the balcony. It was cold, with the slightest bite of oncoming snow in the air, but it felt good after the stuffiness of the party. Fifteen years after that first mission-give or take-and the program was going public. He'd never expected revealing a secret would be so much work.
He heard the tapping of Daniel's cane, and his tense shoulders relaxed even more. Daniel had been in Washington for almost a week already, but they'd barely seen each other. "Remind me to shoot whoever decided it was a good idea to do the big reveal in December 2012," he said, leaning on the railing next to Jack and looking out over the snowy grounds. "If one more reporter asks me about the end of the Mayan calendar, I won't be held responsible for my actions."
"Oh, and I thought you, of all people, would think it was funny," Jack said, grinning when Daniel lightly shoved his shoulder. "I’m sure Teal'c would do the honors if you couldn't bear to shoot an old friend." Daniel muttered something that was probably rude and they lapsed into comfortable silence. "How's the leg?" Jack asked after a while.
"About as good as it's going to get," Daniel said with a slight, rueful smile. "The cartilage graft took, but there's nothing they can do about the tendons that tore, and the doctors say that it's likely I'll never be able to get enough muscle mass to fully support my weight." Daniel was barely hanging on when they'd brought him back, again; Jack was glad for even the smallest of favors. "It figures it would be Pegasus that would finally ground me, doesn't it?"
"I always had a bad feeling about that place," Jack said firmly. "I may be paranoid, but I'm rarely wrong."
"Oh, you're definitely paranoid," Daniel said with a laugh. He shifted his weight so he was mere inches away from Jack. He imagined he could feel the heat radiating from his suit-clad shoulder; Daniel had always run hot, much to the chagrin of generations of infirmary staff. "After all this time," Daniel began, startling Jack out of his reverie. "After everything, do you regret that we opened the 'gate?"
Unbidden, years of missions-good and bad-flashed through Jack's mind. All the men and women who had died protecting their planet. The shit they had stirred up as they bumbled around three galaxies. "Nope," he said. "Do you?"
"I used to," Daniel admitted quietly. "But then I realized how much I would have missed out on. And we changed things for the better, I think. How many people can say that?"
"Not nearly enough," Jack said firmly. "I'd probably be dead now, if not for Abydos," he admitted. "If not for you. I don't think even I realized how close I was to eating my gun until I got back and suddenly didn't want to anymore."
Daniel smiled slightly and touched Jack’s hand, a gentle, understanding pressure. "I don't usually believe in serendipity," he began, and Jack nodded. "As crazy as it's all been, I'm glad. For the chances we've had."
Jack turned to look back into the party, leaning back against the railing. There was something else he had to say, but he couldn't look at Daniel when he did. "And the ones we haven't?" he asked.
Despite the cryptic question, Jack was sure Daniel knew exactly what he was talking about. He could almost imagine Daniel's surprised expression; this wasn't something they'd ever talked about before, and it was usually Jack shutting it down. "Bad timing," Daniel said finally, and it was clear he was choosing his words carefully. "I've learned over the years that while just about everything is possible, some things just aren't meant to happen."
"But I think everyone deserves to be happy," Jack countered. From where he was standing, he could see Carter-a General now, and wasn't that scary-standing just a little too close to Mitchell, and Teal'c with a beaming, pregnant Ishta on his arm. He couldn't see her, but he knew Mal Doran was back there somewhere, her most recent eye candy in tow. Jack had to admit it: she made one hell of a cougar, and she had excellent taste.
"Not everyone gets what they deserve," Daniel said, and Jack could probably guess at a few of the people he was thinking of.
"I retired," Jack said suddenly, nervousness clear in his voice. "As of this morning, I'm officially Lieutenant General Jack O'Neill, Retired. And I plan to stay that way. This time," he added.
"I guess congratulations are in order, then," Daniel said. It was a question, really, but one only Jack would have understood.
"I'm tired," Jack said. "Tired of wanting and not having." He turned to face Daniel. "I think we've earned our happily ever after, don't you?"
"Jack?" Daniel said, and the hope in his voice was heartbreaking.
"Yes, Daniel," Jack said, cupping the side of Daniel's face. Distantly, he noticed that the skin under his palm was just starting to roughen with the night's stubble. And then, not caring that he was still in uniform, not caring that the party was less than ten feet and a set of glass doors away, Jack closed the scant few inches between them and they kissed.
Nope, no regrets at all.
Feedback is better than chocolate.