28 February

Seven months later

Jack stood in the kitchen, his head down, looking into the sink as he finished up the dishes. He and Daniel had had a good dinner, but there’d been very little small talk.  Daniel had gotten home late due to some big translation project, as usual, and in a few minutes Jack would be going off to bed alone.  Following their usual pattern, Daniel would undoubtedly stay up in the office until he fell asleep at the desk, and then later Jack would have to go in and prod him to get up and come to bed.  It was an all too familiar routine, and Jack was sick of it. He missed Daniel, missed talking to him, missed working with him, missed having him in bed for more than a handful of hours a night.  He missed their companionship.

His loneliness like a bitter taste in his mouth, Jack rinsed off the last handful of silverware and set them into the drainer.  He pulled the drain plug and waited for the water to swirl out so he could rinse the sink of residual suds.  His mind was on autopilot, his thoughts focused only on his situation with Daniel.

“Hey,” called Daniel from the kitchen doorway. “Have I told you how much I love your lasagna?”

He came up behind Jack and slipped his arms around his waist after leaning his cane against the kitchen counter. Those articulate hands started wandering to the tune of happy groans, and Jack felt Daniel’s teeth graze against his shoulder. Disappointment settled into Jack’s heart as he tilted his head back and closed his eyes, knowing exactly what would come next.

“I miss you, Daniel,” he said softly, making no protest as his lover’s hands unfastened his jeans and pushed them down.

“Mmm, you, too,” Daniel responded in a matter-of-fact voice, kissing the back of his neck.

Jack didn’t even try to get involved, just let Daniel touch him and held onto the side of the sink, knowing how his body would react.

Daniel had the lube in his pocket, having taken it from the bedroom drawer.  He slicked up one finger, slipping it into Jack’s ass from behind. He laid the tube on the counter and reached around to Jack’s flaccid cock, squeezing it and whispering soft words of love in Jack’s ear until his body responded as it always did.

Jack leaned on the counter with his elbows now, pushing his hips backward, only half-listening to the encouraging little monologue going on behind him.  His heart wasn’t in this, but Daniel didn’t seem to notice.

For several weeks now, it seemed sex was all they had in common, coming together for nightly interludes that varied in length according to how much time Daniel had to spare in his schedule. 

Every few weeks, whenever he finished up a big project, they’d make love for hours until Jack felt as if he were the luckiest, most adored man on any planet.  But on nights like tonight, when Daniel’s schedule was packed, he’d get a quickie when Daniel was ready for it and maybe another when the alarm clock went off in the morning.  Jack was dismayed at how used that made him feel.

But now, as Daniel’s cock pushed inside him, he felt the disappointment fading, hiding in the rush of ecstasy that his lover always managed to inspire.  It felt so good, being fucked, and Daniel had learned exactly what he liked, where and how to thrust to give Jack the best ride and make him come hard and fast. 

Daniel played him like a grand piano, and it wasn’t long before Jack felt his orgasm uncoiling low in his belly.  He grabbed a dishtowel and held it over the head of his dick, grunting as he came into the cloth.

Then it was Daniel’s turn.  Faster and harder, he thrust into Jack’s ass, growling and whispering, his hands clutching at Jack’s hips, holding on until he slammed in deep, frozen in place as he pulsed and twitched in the depths of Jack’s guts.  He panted against the back of his neck, planting breathless little kisses on his shoulders.

Daniel rested on him for several moments, arms encircling Jack’s waist, sweaty cheek plastered against Jack’s nape, hands gently stroking through the hair on his chest and belly.  Then he drew away, pulling himself out of Jack’s warm body, and planting a brief kiss on the side of his neck.  Daniel snatched a couple of paper towels off the rack and gently cleaned his lover’s backside, helping to pull his pants back up into place before wiping himself and refastening his own.

“Thanks, love,” he murmured as he kissed Jack’s cheek.  “You gonna be up late tonight?”

Turning to face him, Jack’s heart leaped up into his throat at the sight of his beautiful lover, his face still flushed, sweat on his upper lip, eyes glistening with joy and pleasure.  Sated Daniel was something Jack never got tired of seeing.  But he missed him so much, it was a constant ache in his soul.  He had to make a couple of tries before he could make his voice work.  “No, I’ll be going to bed soon. You?”

“Nah, gotta get this translation done ASAP,” Daniel called over his shoulder as he moved steadily away. “Come kiss me goodnight?”

“Sure thing.” Jack looked back down into the sink.  As he examined the froth of soapsuds still clinging to the enamel, he was dully aware that their whole encounter had taken less than ten minutes.  Mechanically he turned on the tap and rinsed out the suds, took the dishcloth and dishtowel with him into the bathroom and dropped them in the laundry bin.

He took off his clothes and got into the shower, closing his eyes and gasping as he let the unheated water run over his face.  In seconds he was shaking from the cold.  It always took longer for the water to warm up in the wintertime after sitting in the frigid pipes beneath the house.

But he knew he was shaking for another reason, too.

He’d been dreaming about it a lot lately. Rough hands clutching at him from behind, yanking at his clothes. Men he couldn’t see hurting him, debasing him, humiliating him. Memories of the physical pain were still bright and sharp, even after all those years, but worst of all was his secret shame, the one thing he’d never told anyone, not even Daniel.  Especially not Daniel.  He carried it around like a knife in his gut, and now, for no reason, it was all coming back to haunt him, a living, waking nightmare.

The water coursed down his face, warmer now, feeling like a shower of the tears he couldn't shed.

That wasn’t exactly true, Jack knew. There was a reason it was all coming back now. He was having penetrative sex with Daniel. Sometimes it hurt at first, especially if Daniel were in a hurry or exceptionally aroused. He didn't hold back when taking Jack, and once Jack's arousal caught up with Daniel's, he wanted that roughness, reveled in feeling Daniel's strength and his passion. Getting it from behind was the only way they did it, since Daniel's disability limited what he could do. He was fucking Jack almost daily now, and every time Daniel entered him, every time Jack came, he thought about that shameful secret, even if only for a few brief seconds.

And hated himself.

He had steadfastly refused to feel sorry for himself, refused to cry.  All that had been a long, long time ago, in another life.  He was different now.  Everything was different, and crying about it wouldn’t help anyway.  He hadn’t done it then and wouldn’t now.  He just needed to get a grip and talk to Daniel about spending more time together, so he wouldn’t feel like such a… kosoo.

That was what they’d called him. One of many names, none of them his own. All of them shameful.

Jack straightened up under the spray. He backed up until the water was hitting him in the chest, so he could open his eyes and stare at the white tiles in the shower stall. Ice was forming in his veins, even while his skin was burning from the now-scalding water. 

The torment was almost constant now, gnawing at his insides, nagging at his consciousness, taunting him every waking moment.  It had been slowly eroding what pleasure he’d found with Daniel, making Jack feel brittle and trapped, like an animal being prodded into a cage.

He wondered about his own sanity, feeling as if he might slide off some slippery edge at any moment.  He needed to do something, but had no clue what action he could take.  More than anything, he just didn’t want to think about it. Somehow the monster seemed smaller, more manageable, as long as he could keep it pushed back in the shadows.  He was terrified that if it ever came out into the light, it might be too much for him to bear.

Numbly, Jack shut off the water and got out. He stared at his reflection in the steamy mirror, grabbing a hand towel and cleaning it off so he could look at himself. His face was still deeply tanned from all the gardening he’d done over the summer and fall.  In stark contrast to it, his hair was nearly all silver now.  It was longer than he’d worn it since he was a teenager, curling down over his nape and hanging over his forehead. He’d grown it out, thinking Daniel might like it longer, but his lover had never seemed to notice.

All Jack could think of as he stared at his hazy reflection was that his hair was now longer than Carter’s.  Longer than a woman’s.

His guts clenched. He started to shake. He reached up to the nape of his neck and stroked his long, wet hair with trembling fingers.

“I’m still a man,” he murmured to his reflection.

He closed his eyes and slipped into the familiar fantasy of fucking Daniel, of thrusting into his strong, willing body, and instantly felt a sense of peace and fulfillment. That was what he needed, to penetrate and dominate, to be a man in their bed.

But Daniel couldn’t give that to him. Daniel was the one in charge there, always the one on top, always the one fucking Jack. It was the way it had to be in order for them to be together, and Jack had willingly given that to the man he loved.  Even now, there were no regrets. 

No real regrets, but a creeping sensation of hysteria whispering against the back of his neck, trailing cold fingers up and down his spine.

Kosoo… kosoo… kosoo.

He dried off, dressed in sweats and a T-shirt and went into the kitchen for a beer. He carried it into the living room, thinking and pacing, stopping by the window to look outside at the snowy yard. When that bottle was empty he went for another, and then another, pacing and thinking, trying desperately to maintain some sense of control.

A six-pack later, he opened the door to the deck and tottered barefoot out into the frozen landscape, where everything was covered up with netting and tarps and mulch, a light dusting of snow on every bush and shrub and tree.  His garden was sleeping, completely hidden beneath the protective covers.

Was that why things had changed between them, he wondered, because Daniel couldn’t see the flowers anymore?

He stumbled back inside the house, his head reeling, his feet numb with cold. He collapsed on the sofa, staring out the windows at the shapeless yard. Some of the plants in pots and containers were wintering in the garage, he remembered through his alcoholic haze.  He went out there and started bringing them in, the most important ones, setting them in the middle of the living room floor and uncovering them.  Many were just the husks of dried leaves sticking up above the potting soil, the bulbs beneath dormant.

Daniel wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t get the message from that. He needed to see bright blooms and green leaves. The color and life were important, and all that was gone now.

Jack picked up the cordless kitchen phone and hunted for the phone book, unable to remember the florist’s number. He walked into the den, only marginally aware of Daniel’s presence, weaving as he made his way to the recliner. With a plop, he sat down in it, picked up the phone book from the bookrack on the floor beside it and started thumbing through the yellow pages, squinting to try to read through his boozy haze.

“Jack?”  Daniel was sitting at the desk, working on his laptop.

“Gotta make a call,” Jack slurred. “Gotta plaiz ‘n order.”

“You’re drunk.”

“So?”  He continued to fumble with the damned phone book, which wasn’t cooperating in the least, nearly sliding out of his lap.

“It’s almost midnight. Who were you gonna call?” Daniel got up and came over to sit near him on the brown leather sofa.

“Hel-Helen.”

“Helen who?”

Jack raised bleary eyes to his partner. “Gotta getcha s’m more flowers, Danny. So you’ll know.”

A gentle smile crinkled the corners of Daniel’s eyes. “I know, Jack.” He stood up, leaning on his cane, and reached over to tug the phone book gently from Jack’s grasp. “Come on, big guy. I think I need to put you to bed.”

“Uh-uh,” Jack protested.  “Gotta call Helen, Dan’l.”

“S’almost midnight, Jack.  Her shop is closed right now.  And anyway, I don’t need flowers to know that you love me, okay?  You don’t have to say the words or write me secret messages anymore.  I know. So come on, and let’s get you to bed, okay?”

“’Kay.” Jack was too tired to protest. He hoisted himself out of the comfy chair, got a precarious hold on his balance, and, with Daniel hanging onto his waist, managed to make it to their bedroom without smashing into a wall or doorjamb.

Daniel guided him into the bathroom and got him started brushing his teeth. “Go pee when you finish, and I’ll turn down the bed,” he ordered gently.

“Mmmm,” agreed Jack mindlessly. A pleasant haze was settling over him, partly from the booze, and partly because Daniel was with him, taking care of him, watching over him. That felt good. That was what he needed.

When he emerged unsteadily from the bathroom, he saw that Daniel was also changing for bed, and that made him smile. “Danny,” he murmured happily, and shuffled over to drape himself on his lover’s shoulders. “Come t’bed w’me?”

“I’ve got work to do, Jack,” Daniel returned quietly. He walked Jack over to the bed, pulled back the covers, and helped him between them. He gasped when he touched Jack’s icy feet. “What the hell were you doing, walking barefoot in the snow?”

“No flowers f’r you out there,” said Jack as his head smacked the pillow and rolled a little. “All gone.”

Daniel tucked the covers all around Jack and then sat down on the side of the bed with him.  He stroked Jack’s long hair, running his fingers through it, and smiled down at him.  “So you walked out in the snow barefoot because I needed flowers, huh?  Tell me again why I needed flowers.”  He leaned down and kissed Jack’s forehead.

Jack exhaled deeply in resignation, forcing his eyes open to look at his lover.  “Fucknrun,” he slurred.

Daniel’s eyebrows twitched together.  “Huh?”

Lifting one arm out from beneath the blankets, Jack waved it around like a conductor whipping up an orchestra, then let it drop onto the covers. “Wham, bam, thankya, m…” He swallowed hard, fighting off the mental images, the insulting accusation tearing at his guts. “Ma’am.”

All the humor slowly drained from Daniel’s expression. He blinked at Jack. “Fuck and run?” he asked, his expressive brows drawing together in confusion. “Is that what you said a minute ago? Is that what I did? Oh, Jack, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

He bent down and hugged Jack for a moment. Then he sat up. “Screw it. The translation can wait. I’m gonna go shut things down, and I’ll be right back, okay? You’re way more important than anything I’ve got going at work.” He kissed Jack on the forehead again and stood up, limping briskly out of the room with his cane.

The weight of the grief Jack had been carrying lifted slightly, and his heart sang when Daniel came back a few minutes later, turning off lights and getting into bed beside him. Daniel snuggled close, wrapping his arms and legs around him, hooking his heel behind Jack’s and pulling his cold feet between his calves to warm them with his body. Daniel shared Jack’s pillow and put their foreheads together, his fingers playing in Jack’s thick hair.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I haven’t been paying enough attention to you lately, have I?”

He sighed when Jack didn’t deny it, but just stared at him in the deep shadows, moonlight reflected on snow making the bedroom bright enough to see clearly.

“Okay, let’s see. You’re teaching at the academy next week. The week after that, you’re taking the blankets off the garden and starting to set out some new bulbs. I’m gone the next week and then you’re off to the Pentagon to meet with the program supervisors for a couple of days. That puts us into late March, early April for even looking at taking a few days’ personal time. Think you can wait that long? If not, I’ll rearrange my schedule and we’ll do something sooner. Maybe go up to the cabin for a long weekend and let the garden wait. How about that, vidámo?”

“Love of your life, huh?” teased Jack, speaking very slowly to make himself clear. “Am I? Really?”

Daniel’s fingers were gentle as they traced along Jack’s cheek, carding through his hair and sweeping the long silver silk back over his neck beneath his ear.

Jack remembered playing with Sara’s hair like that in bed when they were married, and something inside him curled up and shuddered. He was a man. He was! Daniel didn’t think of him as if he were a woman, didn' t treat him like the woman in their relationship. They were equals.  Jack was sure of it.

“Yeah, Jack,” Daniel agreed huskily. “You really are the love of my life.” He kissed Jack, his lips tender and sweet.

Tears prickled at the back of Jack’s eyes. As Daniel pulled away from him, Jack turned his head into his pillow, closing his eyes, burrowing under the covers with all the coordination he could manage. “G’night, Daniel,” he whispered.

As Daniel kissed him again, Jack closed his eyes, willing himself into heartbroken oblivion.  In moments, he was asleep.

~~**~~

Listening to Jack’s soft breathing, Daniel lay awake on his pillow, going back over his behavior of the evening.  Jack had been in a quiet mood, but then that had been happening a lot lately. Both of them were busy at work, and the cold had been bothering Jack’s knees, but earlier he’d said he was feeling better.  Daniel had gotten no hint that Jack was anything but interested when they’d made love in the kitchen after dinner, getting nothing but green lights all the way.  Jack had wanted him; he was sure of that.

But then, Daniel had always wondered if he had a problem with reading those signals right.  He’d never had a male lover before, and so was clueless about how to approach and treat Jack.  Being a guy, didn’t Jack like a good quickie now and then, to hell with the foreplay?  Jack had gotten hard when Daniel fondled him, and he’d come with hardly any effort on Daniel’s part.  He knew that Jack loved having Daniel inside him; he’d told him so often enough.

So what was it about tonight’s encounter that had made his lover so maudlin?

Sometimes he and Jack were so in tune it was scary. At other times, one or both of them were so obtuse they might as well not be on the same planet. Tonight, evidently, had been one of those alien nights.

Jack was restless in his sleep. Daniel got up after about half an hour and went to look out at the deck.  In the darkened living room, he almost tripped over the potted plants Jack had carried in from the garage and left in the middle of the floor.  One by one, Daniel carried them back to their places, his mind turning over Jack’s mood, looking for what had set him off.

When that chore was done, Daniel went to the big living room windows and looked outside.  He could clearly see Jack’s footprints in the snow, meandering in a drunken path to the sleeping garden out back.

Still thinking, Daniel wandered back into their bedroom and eased under the covers again, resting on his back with his hands tucked behind his head, looking up at the ceiling.  In time his eyelids grew heavy, and he closed them.  At some point during his contemplation he slipped off into sleep.

Harsh panting woke him.  He turned to look at his lover and saw that Jack was lying on his back, stiff and trembling, his breath coming in short gasps.  He seemed to be in pain. Daniel reached out to touch him, stopping when he saw Jack’s eyes darting back and forth under his eyelids in the moonlight.

Jack was dreaming, his eyes moving in REM sleep, and Daniel knew it wasn’t a good idea to wake him just then. He propped up on one elbow and watched Jack’s closed lids, waiting for a sign that the dream phase was over. Jack’s lips started moving. His face tensed as if he were trying to keep silent, but a soft cry slipped out, a ragged whimper that tore at Daniel.

He called Jack's name, trying to tug him gently out of the nightmare, but his lover dreamt on. 

Suddenly Jack’s body arched upward. His eyes snapped open, and he bolted off the bed, shouting at the top of his lungs,  ”No! I won’t!”

Jack staggered against the chest of drawers and crumpled to the floor. “No more,” he growled, burying his face in his hands, swaying on elbows and knees. He lifted his head and pressed his palms against the floor, roaring with a voice that broke and shattered, “I’ll kill you all, you fuckers!”

“Jack!” Daniel cried, throwing the covers off and struggling to get up. He hopped over to where Jack knelt on the floor, bent his good knee to lower himself and fell the rest of the way when he lost his balance, landing on his left hip. Instantly he was reaching out for Jack, but his lover just pushed him away.

“Don’t touch me,” Jack warned, now at least partially awake. He pushed himself upright, set his back against the wall and slithered down it, landing hard on his butt. He winced, waking up fast.

Daniel stared at him, his heart hammering in his chest. In all the years they’d been together during uncountable nights, he’d never seen Jack react to a nightmare like this one. It had obviously been a doozie, whatever it was.

“Are you okay?” he asked tentatively, scooting as close as Jack would allow. As soon as he saw his lover flinch, he stopped moving. “Jack, what was that?”

“Bad dream,” Jack shot back breathlessly, his voice flat, barely any trace of drunken slur left. His head was still a little wobbly, and he let it fall back against the wall with a thunk, wincing again.  The eyes he turned on Daniel were wild and full of fear. “What did I say? Did I say anything?”

“You said ‘you wouldn’t’ and ‘no more’ and threatened to kill people. What were you dreaming about?” Daniel reached out, trying to touch Jack’s arm, laid across the tops of his knees, but Jack jerked away. Daniel pulled his hand back, even more upset now than ever.

“Just crazy stuff,” answered Jack, glancing down at the floor to his left, his fear fading, the gleam disappearing from his eyes. “Just a nightmare. It’s over now. I’m okay.”

Daniel’s hand waved hesitantly toward him again, then drew back. “May I… may I touch you now?” He wanted to hold Jack so badly.

For a moment Jack didn’t move. Daniel could see his throat working, trying to swallow, maybe to speak, and finally he nodded and opened his arms and legs wide. Daniel scooted between them, resting on his left hip with his bad leg extended beneath Jack's bent knee. He threw his arms around Jack and held him tightly, his forehead almost touching the wall.

“You scared me,” he whispered against Jack’s neck. “I was watching you sleep. I could tell you were dreaming, but I didn’t know it was a nightmare till you started screaming. Jack, you’ve never done that before.  You’ve never made a sound in your sleep.  Hell, you don’t even snore!” He held Jack tighter, his hands stroking restlessly over Jack's back and shoulders. “Tell me about it. Please? I want to know.”

“No,” Jack whispered roughly against his neck. They sat as close as they could get with Daniel's legs in that awkward position, chest to chest, arms wrapped tightly around each other. “Trust me on that. You don’t want to know what that was about. Even I don’t wanna know.” He kissed Daniel just beneath his ear. “I’m just so glad you were here when I woke up, because now I know it’s just a nightmare. It can’t… not anymore, because you’re here.”

Somehow, in Daniel’s heart, he’d heard Jack say, “It can’t hurt me anymore.” Daniel knew Jack was never so raw with his emotions, so whatever it was had been really, really bad.

“I’ll always be here for you, Jack,” he promised, and closed his eyes, waiting for the tremors to pass in both of them and peace to return. In time they both got back into bed and held each other closely, safe and assured that the terrible dream was gone. Gradually, wrapped up in each other, they slipped into sleep, lying close together until the alarm clock roused them to start a new day.

~~**~~

**9 March**

Nine Days Later

Right at 0800, Jack pulled into the parking lot at the nursery just as the doors were opening. The owner waved at him; he gave a nod back. He’d been there often enough over the past year to be on a first name basis with the man, and Jerry Clark had even been by their place to have a look at the developing garden a couple of times.

Now that the snow was melting and winter was breathing its last gasp, Jack had begun to uncover the hardier perennials and bulbs. It was time to start planting some new bulbs to fill out the unfinished spaces, and he was still looking for that centerpiece flower that would sit inside the handmade stone planter. There was plenty of time yet; new plants could be put in as late as May or June and still have a good growing season before the first frosts of autumn.

That private spot deep in the trees needed some thought put into it, too. Jack had ideas for an enclosure way in the back. He’d talked to Daniel about it and was planning to use panels of the same kind of camouflage netting the military stretched over helicopters and airplanes in the field to keep them from being spotted on the ground by enemy pilots.

Daniel had argued that it needed to be something more exotic and elegant, but had given no hint of what he thought might be suitable materials.  Every time Jack got on a roll talking about it, Daniel always seemed to change the subject.  Then they’d start rolling around on each other with Daniel invariably ending up on top of him, and he’d forget all about the garden for a while.

He reached up and stroked the hair poking down into the collar of his T-shirt.  Maybe while he was out, he’d get a haircut, too. Something that would make him feel more manly. Something short and military. It was time to go back to that, and maybe the earring should go, too.  He touched the little silver hoop dangling from his left earlobe.  Impulsively, he took it out and stuffed it into his pants pocket.

Jack got out of the truck and headed into the nursery, wrinkling up his nose at the smell of the fertilizer and bug poisons stacking the shelves. He waved at Jerry, who was now slipping behind the counter to stock the till, and ambled back into the greenhouse to look at new bedding plants and seed packets for annuals.

Just inside the greenhouse doors, he grabbed one of the big heavy-duty carts and pushed it down the aisle toward the fertilizer. He pulled a couple of bags off the shelf and stacked them on the cart, then moved down the row and picked a couple of bags of a different kind.  One of them was made from horse manure that smelled better, and he knew that one would be more natural than the chemical-based fertilizers.  Another couple of items, and he had the ingredients for his own special mix, which he would customize in composition for plants with differing needs.

He headed for the display of bulbs and picked up a bright orange net package with a large cardstock photo of black elephant ears on the cover. They were interesting looking, but didn’t really go with anything in his design. Putting those back, he browsed through the hyacinths, irises and gladioli, and then moved on to the seed stand.

“What looks good this year?” asked a feminine voice to his right.

Jack glanced over his shoulder at a woman he’d seen off and on last spring and summer, doing much the same thing he had been, perusing the plants.  They’d chatted a couple of times, and she’d been a little flirtatious, but he hadn’t flirted back.  Not much, anyway.  Not enough for her to take him seriously.  He’d just been being friendly, after all.  And so, probably, had she.

He gave her a nod and a little half smile and turned back to the seed packets. “Oh, I dunno,” he exhaled on a sigh. “I think I’m lookin’ for some weeds this year. Know where I can get some Shepherd’s Purse?”

“What’s that?” she asked with a surprised little laugh. She tilted her head and stepped fully around him to meet his eyes, leaning provocatively against the seed stand with one hip.

She wore a low-cut black sweater that set off her fair skin and clung to her big boobs.  Tight black jeans showed everything there was to see about her slender waist and slim hips.  She was pretty, with bleached blonde hair and light brown eyes, almost amber in color.  As Jack looked her over, he thought she might be in her early to mid-thirties.  There was no wedding ring on her left hand, so she probably wasn’t attached. Then again, he wasn't wearing one either, and he was about as “taken” as it was possible to get.

This wasn’t the sort of woman Jack normally would give the time of day.  She was too tarted-up, too obvious.  He knew the type well – probably out for whatever she could get from a man with assets; out for a good time with those who struck her fancy.  Judging from the cool, assessing look she was giving him, apparently she thought he could easily fill both categories.  He didn’t think he was giving off any vibes, really, but there was interest in her eyes.  She was certainly waving everything she had right under his nose, doing her best to get him to look. 

He felt self-conscious that he had noticed, and with a jolt of surprise in the pit of his stomach, he realized he was more than a bit titillated, too.  He inclined his head and gave her the smile he felt sure she expected.  “Katie, was it?" 

“Kathy,” she corrected, obviously slightly disappointed that he didn’t remember her name from their previous encounters last year.

Yanking his mind out of her cleavage and back to her original question, he told her, “Shepherd’s Purse is a weed, Kathy.”  He put the seed packets for phlox back into the bin.  “I need to find some, because I want it growing in my yard.”

She raised her dark-penciled eyebrows at him with a grin.  “You want weeds in your yard? What kind of gardener are you, Jack?”

“The home grown kind.”  As he stepped to one side, pushing his cart toward the seedlings and live plants, he felt a dart of guilty pleasure at the fact that she had remembered his name. 

He wanted to get away from her, a sensation just short of panic now twisting in his guts.  Something was whispering from the dark depths of his mind, prodding at him, and he didn’t want to listen. Part of him already knew what it wanted.  His dick had already taken notice and was stirring, his belly heating up as the pressure and fullness increased with the smell of her perfume, the sound of her voice, the sight of her and the knowledge that she was flirting her brains out.

His hands gripped the handle on the cart until his knuckles turned white.

Kathy followed along behind him.

He stopped by some freesia sprouts and checked the sturdiness of the base stems and color of the leaves.  He set them back down and moved on.  Part of him wanted to just turn and run back to his truck as fast as he could and get the hell out of there.  Instead, he continued looking at plants and pretending to shop, all the while hyperaware of the woman trailing along closely behind him.

Her presence clawed at his mind, even though he wasn't looking at her.  “Do you know what makes a weed a weed?” he asked, hoping he sounded casual, wanting to ignore her, but unable to do so. 

“They’re ugly?” she answered, watching him sort through the verbenas.

“Nope. They're just flowers growing out of place,” he announced, looking down his nose at the hothouse flowers. “That’s what my grandma taught me.  Even weeds can be beautiful, if you plant ‘em in just the right spot.” 

Do it, said a voice echoing in the shadows of his mind.  You wanna know, don’t you? He dragged his gaze back to her face, his mouth gone dry as pornographic pictures flashed through his mind.  Prove you're still a man.

She gave him what was obviously a smile of invitation and lowered her voice seductively.  “Are you a philosopher, Jack?” 

His voice was calm as he replied, “Nope.  Just a gardener, ma’am.”  He was falling apart right in front of her, but she couldn’t see it.  No one could, because he was always careful to keep his emotions well hidden.

Slipping her arm in his, she moved closer into his personal space and looked up into his eyes.  “Well, then, I could use your opinion, Mister Gardener.”  She towed him over to the planters, leaving his cart behind, talking to him non-stop about the plans she had for the front walk of her house.

Jack allowed himself to be led along.  He saw all the clues -- the smiles, the tilt of her head, the tone of voice, the way she brushed her breasts against his arm.  She was coming on to him big time, really pouring on the charm.  Kathy was an attractive woman, and her every gesture screamed her sexual interest in him.  She’d be so easy to get into bed.

He turned away, pretending to look at some Mexican clay pots on shelves just to his right as he felt the pressure of his response low in his belly.  If he didn’t cool it right then, he was going to get a hard-on right there in the nursery.  His heartbeat stuttered and speeded up.

Remember Daniel, he thought desperately.  He wanted to say to her, I’m taken.  Leave me alone. He tried to say the words, but they wouldn’t come out of his mouth.  God help me, I don’t want to do this! Daniel!

He pretended to look up at a pot on a high shelf.  But in his mind he could see himself on his belly on the ground, held down by many hands, feel the penetration, hear that ugly word echoing in his head.

Kosoo. Kosoo. Kosoo.

His face flushed, and he reached out to grasp the edge of the shelf, just to have something to hold onto for a moment.  He felt sick, desperate to leave, to be anywhere but with his thoughts.  He took a deep breath and muttered, “I need to get outta here.”

He looked down at her and, for an instant, pictured himself on top of her, balls-deep between her legs, squeezing her tits and pounding her till she screamed. 

Kathy smiled up at him, her amber eyes glittering, obviously reading the heat in his eyes accurately.  “Let’s go, baby,” she purred.  “My place isn’t very far.  You can look at my entry and tell me what you think of it, help me figure out exactly what needs to go in it.” 

He got the innuendo, all right, and knew he was lost.  He hated himself, but was powerless against what she was so blatantly offering.  “Yeah,” he agreed numbly.  “I can do that.  Let’s go.” 

The tiny little voice that called desperately to him to stop was abruptly silenced as he walked out behind her, leaving his loaded cart behind.  He called out to Jerry that he’d be back to finish his shopping in a little while.

He climbed into his truck and followed her for the five minutes it took to get to her townhouse.  Then he walked her inside and shut off his mind, no longer caring what his conscience was screaming. 

He had to do this.

Had to. He needed it, just this once.

And God willing, Daniel never had to know. 

~~**~~

**22 March**

Almost Two Weeks Later

Jack pushed up and rolled away from Kathy to lie beside her in her bed.  He stared sightlessly at the ceiling, the guilt and horror of their relationship eating away at him as it always did, but especially in the moments after his climaxes.  The smell of sex on the sheets was so strong it made him nauseous, but stronger still was the scent of perfume and woman.

He was clueless about what was happening to him.  In the first place, he didn’t understand why he couldn’t have been satisfied with Daniel.  And why had he even bothered coming back to this woman after that first time?  But he had.  Many times.  He couldn’t seem to stay away, no matter how much he wanted never to see her again. 

Kathy snuggled up beside him, her head on his shoulder, her right hand drifting up and down the sweaty hair on his chest and belly. He could feel her smiling against his skin, her breath coming out in slowing gasps of satisfaction. "That was great, baby," she crooned. "You do know how to get a girl off."

He said nothing, his body relaxed and boneless from his orgasm, while his mind desperately sought a way out of the trap he'd stupidly rushed into with wide-open eyes.

He’d meant for Kathy to be a one-time thing, but she’d given him her phone number after that first encounter, and every time the demons from his past threatened to overwhelm him, he’d given in and called her.  Fucking her, thrusting into her warm, willing body, gave him a kind of twisted reassurance, yet every time he walked through her door, he could feel the danger growing.

He loved Daniel so much, it made him crazy sometimes. He didn't love Kathy -- didn't even like her, really -- but she was a salve to his damaged manhood, a crutch for his broken ego, and he couldn't seem to let her go, either.

Now that he'd been seeing her regularly over the last two weeks and sleeping with her as often as he could get away, she was beginning to make noises about being included in his life.  She wanted more than a good fuck and take-out dinners at her place. That was all he’d wanted from her, and he’d hoped she’d be satisfied with what he’d given her so far. Evidently, that had changed and she was starting to think about laying claim to him.

He knew the kind of woman she was.  “Gold-digger” had been written all over her from the moment they'd met.  She was free with her body, but her body wasn't exactly free. She wanted the whole package, all the sex and material comfort he could provide, only he wasn't available. Of course, she didn’t know that, and he couldn’t tell her.

He'd even bought her a few nice gifts -- knowing that would shut her up -- which it had, for a while. 

He could feel the usual not-so-subtle prod coming again as she propped up on one elbow and looked down at him, her hair and makeup hideously mussed. Most men would think she looked sexy in that just-fucked kind of way, but there was no afterglow for him to glamorize her, just the ugly truth of what he saw, mostly about himself.

Averting his eyes, his stomach churning, Jack took that opportunity to move away from her.  He rolled over, pulling off the condom he’d used before he sat up.

Then he headed for the bathroom for a shower, to scrub off the stink of her.  "I've gotta get home and pack, Kathy," he told her over his shoulder. "My plane leaves early in the morning."

She sat up in the rumpled sheets. "When you get back, maybe we can have a little get-together to celebrate. Invite some of your friends. I'd love to meet them." 

He didn't turn around when he spoke, just continued toward the bathroom. "Maybe we can talk about that after I get back from DC.” 

Closing the bathroom door, he turned and leaned his forehead against the cool wood, silently vowing that he’d break it off with her as soon as he returned from his trip. He had to, because the self-loathing and guilt about what he was doing to Daniel was killing him.  He was caught in a fucking nightmare of his own making and was desperate to wake up.  Added to the horror of the memories from his past, he knew it was only a matter of time before something had to give, if he didn’t find some way to get his life back on track.

After a thorough scrub in the shower, he dressed and returned to the bedroom, where Kathy lay sprawled in what Jack imagined she thought was a provocative pose.  He knew what she expected, but he was damned if he was going to give it to her. Hell, he couldn't even smile and pretend he wanted seconds. All he wanted was to get out of there.

Politely, he bent down to kiss her and murmur a good-bye. She rose, slipped into her robe and followed him to the front door, tugging on his arm for another farewell kiss just before he left.  After the most perfunctory of pecks on the cheek, he turned his back on her and walked away without a word.

He felt bad about what he’d been doing to her, but he couldn’t help himself.  He’d needed what she could give him, but he was pretty sure she was using him, too -- not that any of that made it right. He was certain she didn't love him. He believed all she wanted was what she thought he could give her, and his heart certainly wasn't in the bargain.

He didn't look back as he strode to his truck.  With an impatient twist of the ignition key, the engine roared to life.  He slammed it into gear, coming perilously close to burning rubber as he pulled out of her driveway.  He was desperate to get away from her, to get home to Daniel, even though he knew Daniel wouldn't be there yet.

Heart slamming in his chest, he forced himself to drive at the speed limit, his hands trembling on the wheel. 

As he passed a barber shop, he made a quick decision, pulled a U turn and went in to get his hair cut, feeling a little better to have the military look back again. Back into the truck immediately afterward, he tried to relax a little, but the feel of her body against his wasn't going away. The memory of her tied his stomach up in knots.

Once at his house, he took another shower, washed his hair, and brushed his teeth to make sure he had every trace of her off him. Digging the earring out of his pants pocket, he dropped it in a bathroom drawer and closed it a little too hard. Jack threw the clothes he'd worn into the washing machine with lots of detergent and started the cycle to get them clean. 

Dressed again in fresh clothes, he ambled into the kitchen to start dinner.  Packing for his trip to Washington didn't take long and by the time he’d finished that, dinner was almost ready. He set the table and waited for Daniel to arrive back from the base, his mind going over and over the mess he’d made of their lives, searching for a way out and finding none.

"I'm home, Jack," Daniel called from the front door.

"In the kitchen," Jack answered, and left the dining room to start serving up their plates.  He was just setting them on the table when Daniel came into the room.  He didn't look up when Daniel came to kiss his cheek and pat him fondly on the butt.

Daniel leaned over the kitchen sink to wash his hands.  "Hey,” he said over his shoulder.  “Dinner smells great!  How was your day?"  He wiped his hands on a kitchen towel and then went back out to the dining room to pull out a chair and take a seat.  He leaned his cane against the table and waited for Jack to sit down across from him.  He sat back in his chair and looked Jack over.  "I see you got a haircut."

Jack just shrugged that last comment away.  "Same old, same old, today," answered Jack wearily.  He kept his head down as he took his place at the table, picked up his knife and fork and started cutting up his steak.  "Not much new in my life, aside from the trip to the barber that was long overdue.  What’d you do today?"

He barely heard Daniel rattling on about this translation and that artifact and the cultural significance of it all.  Listening just enough to know if he'd been asked a question, Jack picked at his food and threw in a one-liner wherever appropriate, hoping Daniel wouldn’t notice that Jack hadn’t looked him in the eye all evening.  Apparently, luck was with him and his partner alternated between talking and chewing until his dinner was gone.

Much later, when Daniel was finished with his work for the night, he came to bed and settled down on his pillow with a sigh.

Jack had been reading for a while, the book tented on his chest, the bedside lamp still burning. Tonight he couldn’t get to sleep, and even the boring book hadn’t made him drowsy. There was so much on his mind Jack simply couldn’t shut it off. Now that Daniel was coming to bed, he closed the book and put it on the nightstand, turning out the light on his side of the bed.

Daniel left his lamp on, wanting to talk a little before sleep. “I wish you didn’t have to go tomorrow,” he murmured softly, turning beneath the covers to face his lover.  “The house always feels so empty when you’re gone.”  He put his hand on Jack’s chest and played with the curly hair, rubbing little warm circles on his skin.

“Does when you’re off makin’ nice with our allies, too,” Jack answered evenly.  He couldn’t look at Daniel, just lay on his pillow, hands clasped behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. He felt as if he were drowning, dying inside, in so much pain he’d gone almost numb.  Something inside him was shrieking, but outside he was quiet and still.

“General Hammond would let you go off-world on diplomatic missions, too, if you wanted,” Daniel reminded him.  He scooted closer and laid his head on Jack’s chest, listening to his heart beating.  His hand smoothed over Jack’s abdomen and he sighed. “What’s wrong, Jack?  And don’t say it’s nothing.  You’ve hardly looked at me for a week or more, and I can’t remember the last time I saw you smile or heard you laugh.  Something’s eating at you, and I’d like to know what it is.”

“That would require talking,” Jack said simply.  “Which you know very well I don’t do.”

“This is something we both have to learn, vidámo.  I know we both suck at it, but we have to find ways to open up to each other.”

“We’ve been doing just fine,” argued Jack, really not wanting to get into that subject at the moment. Or ever, really. “It’ll pass, Daniel.  It’s just a mood.”

He hoped it was, anyway.  Jack felt uneasy about the whole subject.  He didn’t like lying and was disgusted with himself for cheating on Daniel in the first place. He had told Daniel ‘forever’ in that hotel room on his birthday. Daniel was operating under the belief that there was a solid commitment between them, that they were a couple and exclusive to each other, because that was what Jack had requested.

That was what he wanted.  He needed to know Daniel would be in his life always, but now it seemed Jack was doing everything he could to push the man he loved away.  He settled his arm around Daniel’s shoulders, swallowing hard, forcing down the wave of love and longing that threatened to overwhelm him.  He wanted so badly to be the kind of man who could share his feelings and give his lover what he needed.  He just had no faith that he could be that kind of man, not anymore.  He threaded his other hand through Daniel’s hair, stroking him tenderly.

A warm breath flowed across his belly.  Daniel turned his face and kissed his chest.  “I worry about you,” he murmured.  “You keep so much bottled up inside, and I want so much to help when I know you’re hurting.” Daniel rose up on one elbow and lay half across Jack, looking down into his face, squinting a little to focus without his glasses in what little light there was.  “I love you so much, but sometimes I feel like that’s not enough.”

Jack’s heart shattered at that tender declaration and the obvious devotion behind it.  “It is,” Jack whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “It’s everything, Daniel.  You’re all I need,” he told him, desperate to believe it himself.  He came up to meet Daniel halfway, the kiss carrying him back down to the pillow.  Daniel plundered his mouth, his tongue merciless in its sweet probing, his lips a satin glide that left Jack writhing, moaning and restless.

Daniel’s hands caught at Jack’s hair and ribs possessively.  Thick plates of flexed muscle pushed at Jack’s chest and shoulder where Daniel lay against him, and he reveled in the feel of that leashed power, that bulging hardness pressed against his body.  The smoothness of Daniel’s skin was a constant delight, rubbing against him, heating him up.  He was helpless against that loving assault, breaking away to gasp a breath when Daniel’s hand touched his wakening cock.

He groaned and turned his face away, eyes closed, concentrating on the feel of Daniel’s knowing hands touching and squeezing him.  Sharp teeth grasped his nipple and made him grunt with sudden, intense pleasure.  Jack undulated on the bed, unable to keep still as Daniel made his way down Jack’s body, sucking, licking and kissing, nibbling at the tender spots on his sides and lower belly, worshipping Jack with his mouth.

“Jeez, Daniel,” he panted.  Heat rushed to his dick, throbbing with need as Daniel scooted downward, flinging the covers off them as he settled between Jack’s legs.  Wet heat engulfed him and Jack arched upward into it, thrusting eagerly into Daniel’s talented mouth.  He reached down, tangling his fingers in Daniel’s long hair, holding onto his head with both hands and willing himself to relax, to make it last a little longer.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he whispered roughly.  “Oh, yeah.”  He lifted his head and opened his eyes, looking down at his cock disappearing into Daniel’s mouth and sliding back out, slick and glistening with his saliva.  Daniel’s head tipped up and his eyes opened, the blue all but gone in eyes dilated with passion and desire as Daniel looked into his lover's eyes.  Jack groaned and spread his legs at Daniel’s guiding touch, collapsing back against the pillow, closing his eyes and trying to stay calm.

Somehow, Daniel had smuggled the lube down there with him and slipped a slick finger slowly into Jack’s ass. He licked Jack’s balls, sucking first one, then the other into his mouth to the tune of Jack’s sighs of approval. Slowly, his finger probed deeper and began to twirl, making Jack writhe and gasp as he tried desperately to stay in control and make it last.

Another finger breached him, stretching him wider, probing deeper, stroking close to his prostate and sending shivers of ecstasy all through him. Jack lifted his legs, spreading them wider to give Daniel more room. A third finger slipped inside and need shot through him, making him buck and push against Daniel, gasping and groaning, driving him toward completion.

Jack lifted his head again, needing to see, to watch Daniel as he swallowed his cock.  Love burned in the blue-black depths of his eyes.  Savagely, anguish tore through Jack as he came, Daniel’s fingers thrusting fiercely into him, his cock enclosed in the wet glide of Daniel’s mouth and throat. Jack cried out, reaching for him, but his body refused to obey him and left him powerless, panting on the pillow while Daniel greedily drank the last of his come.

He closed his eyes and waited, trying to catch his breath, to think, to push his way past the demons scrabbling at the edges of his consciousness, threatening to take away the joy of that precious moment.

Daniel crawled up beside him and stretched out, his hands gently pushing at Jack, guiding him to turn over onto his side so Daniel could spoon up behind him.

“Get on top of me, Daniel,” Jack breathed. “Fuck me face to face this time.”

Doubt skittered across his lover’s expression, but he obeyed, settling on top of Jack and pushing back to try to balance himself on hands and knees. He grimaced and flopped over onto his side with a grunt. “I can’t do it that way, Jack.  I just can’t bear my weight on my bad knee.”

Jack watched Daniel settle on his side on his pillow, facing him. There was no way Jack could let Daniel fuck him from behind tonight. He just couldn’t. He needed to see his face, to be able to look into his eyes and know who was inside him. If he couldn't see Daniel's face while they made love, Jack knew he would shatter. He couldn't take that risk.

“Then lie on your back, Danny,” Jack whispered. “I’ll ride you that way.”

Daniel looked doubtful again. “What about your knees?”

“I’ll let you know. Lube up, baby.”

A quick, sweet little grin lit up Daniel’s face. He tossed the lube onto the nightstand when he was finished with it, his fingers busy applying the clear gel to his erection. When he finished, he held it upright at the base and gave Jack an even wider smile. “Mount up, cowboy.” 

Jack straddled him, rolling his hips under as he lowered himself toward Daniel’s cock. He reached back and grabbed it, guiding it into place, and closed his eyes with a gasp of pleasure as he relaxed to let it slip inside him. Slowly, carefully, he let himself down until he was sitting on Daniel’s pelvis, his dick firmly embedded in Jack's ass.

He was full.  It felt magnificent. He sat there, his hands resting on Daniel’s smooth chest, feeling his lover’s heartbeat pounding beneath his palms. He tried to search out whether his knees were protesting, but couldn’t feel anything other than his ass and Daniel’s heart beating inside him and under his hands.

“I love being inside you,” Daniel whispered, reaching up to trail his fingertips through Jack’s chest hair.  

Jack’s throat closed up. Tears prickled at the back of his eyes. He wanted so much to tell Daniel how he felt, how much he meant, but no words ever conceived could adequately cover that concept. He stared down into Daniel’s eyes and leaned forward onto his hands, arching his back and pulling Daniel’s cock almost all the way out of him, then pushed back against him and rolled his hips under to thrust him in deep again. He rocked slowly, back and forth, in and out, mesmerized by the glorious slide of flesh against slick flesh, of heat and hardness filling him up.

He watched in utter fascination as Daniel’s eyes rolled closed, lost in the grip of pleasure. Daniel groaned and sighed, moaned and whimpered as he rocked with his lover, thrusting and withdrawing in the same rhythm, lifting Jack up off the bed and sinking into it with him. Jack had never seen anything so beautiful, so erotic, and he leaned down for a brief kiss, nibbling at Daniel’s lower lip before straightening up again.

“Jack.” Daniel was close now, his hands twisting in the sheets, gripping and relaxing, looking for a way to hold on a little longer. Jack’s name was a breathless chant on his lips as he pushed up to his elbows, half sitting up, trying to get closer. Daniel's eyes opened and his teeth clamped down over his lower lip, dimples flaring in his cheeks as he strained to resist the tide of ecstasy, his eyes pleading for the mercy of making the moment last.

To Jack, Daniel was sex personified, and Jack wanted nothing more than to drive him screaming over the edge. He rode harder, faster, rotating his hips and squeezing his ass muscles, milking at Daniel’s cock until he roared and curled upward, clutching at Jack’s hips as the spasms of pleasure tore through him.

Jack watched him, stunned by the look of total abandon on Daniel’s slack face as his head lolled back on his shoulders with the ebbing tide of pleasure. His eyes rolled slowly half open, glittering and dark, black pools of passion… and all for him.

Reverently, Jack clasped Daniel’s face in both hands and leaned down for a kiss, not caring how uncomfortable the position was with his balls smashed between their bodies and his knees letting him know they’d reached their limit. This was how he wanted Daniel to make love to him, he decided. He needed to see Daniel’s face, to look into his eyes and drown in the boundless adoration he saw there.

As soon as he let go, Daniel fell back against the pillows with a groan, arms splayed out at his sides and a big happy grin on his face, his eyes closed. “Wow. That was just… wow.”

“Yeah.” Jack didn’t want to move. “I’m not too heavy?”

“Move and I’ll break something,” Daniel teased, cracking one eye open. “God, Jack. You’ve got one talented ass.” He moved one hand wearily to Jack’s thigh and stroked it fondly. “Maybe I should take off work and come with you. What d’ya say?”

“If Hammond will let you out of a week’s work, sure,” Jack agreed, not daring to hope he might actually go through with a little spontaneity. “Of course, I might not leave my hotel room, if you’re in my bed.”

Daniel chuckled. “Yeah, but I still owe you some quality time. It won’t be long now.” His grin faded and he reached out to take Jack’s hands in his, lacing their fingers together. “I miss you, Jack. Sometimes I wish we could both just retire and do nothing but each other all day.” 

The sweetness of that idea was like a warm hug, enveloping Jack’s heart. “Nah,” he returned wistfully. “You’d get bored real fast. You’ve gotta keep your mind busy. I’d be happy just diggin’ in the dirt, as long as I had you with me at the end of the day.” He pulled one hand away to reach out and trace his fingertips over Daniel’s cheek. “But the world needs you, Danny. The human race is depending on you.  I’m just the comic relief, here.”

“We’re a package deal, Jack,” Daniel whispered, “and I can’t do any of it without you.  You do know that, don’t you?”

Jack swallowed, loving the sentiment but certain that it was absolute fantasy. Daniel might really believe that, but Jack knew better. The world would travel along without a pause if Jack O’Neill suddenly vanished from it, but without Daniel Jackson… Well, he’d already been in that universe and seen where it was going. That wasn't a place he ever wanted to be again.

He’d simply been lucky enough to get Daniel back. That was a gift of cosmic proportions, and he’d done his best to make things right. Only being who he was, he had managed to screw it up anyway.

"I'll let you keep thinking that, Danny," Jack responded after a long pause. With a sigh of resignation, he dismounted and stretched out beside the man he loved, cuddled him into his arms and listened to the whisper of Daniel's breathing as he fell asleep.

Jack fought off the demons for as long as he could, but as soon as he drifted away, they began to creep out of the shadows and stalk his dreams, tormenting him with memories he could no longer bear. He awoke with a scream choked back at the last moment, sweating and panting, and rose from the bed to stand by the window and look outside, hoping he could make it through another moment, and then another, and then one more.

That was how he was going to have to survive now, from one breath to the next.

He dressed in sweats and a T-shirt, threw on some shoes, and padded out of the bedroom, through the house and outside, into the moonlit backyard.  It was still cold out, but he didn’t care.  New shoots were starting to come up from some of the crocus bulbs and in another month they’d be flowering, the first of many new blooms to come.  The garden gave him hope that somehow, everything would happen in its own time, that the bleak winter in his soul would pass and the torment would slip into the dark recesses of his memory.

He bent down to heap the mulch over the tops of the bulbs and covered them up a little more, tucking them in for the remaining cold.

He stood out in the chilly darkness for a while, his arms wrapped around his chest to preserve what body heat he could.  He threw his head back, gazing at the same stars among which he and Daniel had once traveled.  They made him feel small, insignificant, but he knew he wasn’t.  He knew he was significant, important, in Daniel’s eyes.  If he could just hold on a little longer, he thought, everything would be all right.

After several minutes, he ambled back inside the house.  Checking the clock, he decided to give up on trying to get more sleep.  He started the coffee, getting a jump on the day that would see him catching a plane for a destination across the country, leaving his lover behind just when Jack needed him most.

~~**~~

**30 March**

Eight Days Later

Fitting the key into the front door lock was no easy task, considering Daniel had a twenty-pound bag of potting soil under his left arm, two suits on hangers dangling from his mouth, and a cane in his right hand along with the keys.  It took a little more fumbling and dropping the cane before he could wrestle the door open.

He quickly stepped around the corner to disarm the security system, dropping his cane again in the process.  Trying not to fall over, Daniel balanced on his good leg, leaning one hand against the wall, gathering himself and trying to decide how to move on from there.

“Hello,” called a cheery voice from the doorstep.  “Are you a friend of Jack’s?”

Startled, Daniel dropped his keys on the floor and quickly pulled the hangers from his mouth.  “Um, yes.  I’m Daniel.  Daniel Jackson.”  He hopped sideways so he could see the woman better.  He moved over to lean against the doorframe for balance and support.  “Jack’s not home.  Can I help you with something?”

The woman flashed him a bright smile from the doorstep.  She was nice enough looking, dressed as she was in tight jeans and a tank top that left little to the imagination, the dark natural color showing at the roots of her bleached hair.  His first impression was ‘cheap blonde,’ but he tried to shake that off and avoid labeling her. 

She extended her hand toward him.  “Well, hi.  I’m Kathy Pierce.  It’s nice to meet you, Daniel.  Can I help you with some of that?”  She reached inside just enough to pick up his cane and his keys and hold them out to him.

Setting the potting soil down just inside the door, Daniel draped the suits over his arm.  He took his keys and stuffed them into his pocket, and then accepted the cane from her with a grateful smile.  “Thanks.”  He was always wary about letting strangers into the house, especially when Jack was gone, so he decided to keep her out on the porch, at least until he knew what she wanted.

“You're welcome,” she assured him, her eyes sweeping over him, clearly assessing him.  “Have you and Jack been friends for a while?”  She gave a nervous chuckle.  “I mean, you’ve got a key to his place, so you must be close.”

Daniel started to feel a little uncomfortable, since she obviously was digging for information.  He didn’t know who this woman was, but he probably ought to cool her interest in his lover quickly.  “Yeah, we are,” he admitted frankly, thinking he should make plain right away exactly what their relationship was.  “Very close.  We're—“

“So, Jack’s not married, is he?”  The woman’s face grew suddenly serious and she leaned closer, not waiting to hear a detailed description of their living arrangement.  “I wondered, you know, because he hasn’t introduced me to any of his friends or brought me to his house.  I…” 

Daniel froze.  He couldn’t speak, couldn’t think.  This woman couldn’t possibly mean what he thought she was implying.  Could she?

“…I was starting to wonder if, maybe, he had a family. A wife.” 

His throat and mouth felt as if they were caked with dust.  He pulled himself up to his full height and glared at her, willing himself to be calm, to hold on until he knew exactly what the hell was going on with this woman. “Uh… No, Jack’s not married.  He’s just a very private man. He’ll…” Daniel swallowed reflexively, tears coming to his eyes.  He blinked them away.

Daniel's heart seized up in his chest, aching at the very real possibility that Jack might have been seeing her on the side.  Daniel had believed he and Jack were exclusive. They had talked about it, and Jack had promised his heart forever. He still loved Daniel -- he was dead sure about that.  No one could fake the look in Jack’s eyes when they were intimate.  So why was this woman coming around, asking if Jack were married?

He had to find out, had to tuck his emotions away and see what he could get out of her, without letting her know who she was questioning.   Keeping his face impassive, he switched mental gears, allowing the cool, calm, professorial diplomat in him to take over.

“I’m sure he’ll introduce you around when he’s ready,” Daniel assured her politely.  He bowed his head, leaning heavily on the cane, struggling to maintain control.  He felt as if a rug had been pulled out from beneath him, his whole world suddenly tilting.  His balance was shaky and he put too much weight on his bad knee, pain shooting up into his hip and down to his toes.  He sucked in a breath and wobbled, nearly falling over.

“Oh!  Are you okay?” she asked, reaching out to steady him.

He backpedaled out of her reach, raising his free hand to ward off her help.  “I’m fine,” he snapped.  “Please!  Don’t touch me.”

Daniel forced himself to straighten, taking a deep breath to start the interrogation.  He pushed his lips into a grimace that he hoped passed for a friendly look.  “So, how long have you and Jack been seeing each other?”

She smiled coquettishly.  “Three weeks.  We met at the nursery, of all places, sometime last year.  We talked off and on, but the first time we saw each other this season, he was all over me.”  Kathy giggled happily, her eyes dancing.

That pinpointed a time for Daniel to look back over Jack’s behavior for clues, right about when he'd stopped wearing his earring, and then later, cut his hair. He’d gone quiet and lost his sense of humor about the same time. Daniel had known something was wrong between them.

He just didn’t think it would be… this.

“It’ll take a little longer for Jack to start showing you off.  Just be patient.” He couldn’t believe he was saying that to this woman.  His insides were shredding, and he was encouraging her!  It was a necessary tactic, to get at the information she had to offer.  He’d played the diplomat often enough over the last eight years that he was an expert at it.  “I guess you two have been going to your place, then, huh?  Your favorite haunts.”

He knew she was far from the sort of woman Jack usually ogled.  His initial assessment of ‘cheap blonde’ intensified and the more he talked to her, the more he was certain that she was coarse and easy.  He couldn’t imagine what Jack had seen in her.

“Yeah.  I made him dinner the night before he left for DC on that business trip.  It was kinda early,” she grinned, sexy memories glimmering in her eyes, “but that was okay.  We said a nice, long, hard goodbye, and I think he’ll be calling me as soon as he gets off the plane when he comes home.”  She winked at him triumphantly.  “Don’t let that gray hair fool you.  He can put most younger guys to shame in the sack.” 

She laughed brightly, obviously thinking she’d said something clever, but Daniel was sickened by her crudeness.

Her total lack of class was startling.  Daniel was stunned, aghast at how completely he’d been fooled.  Jack had fucked this woman the day he left, then come home and wanted Daniel to fuck him immediately afterward.  Daniel had happily driven the bastard to the airport, none the wiser.  Jack had been screwing them both. 

Daniel wanted to tell her the truth, that he was Jack's lover.  He wanted to see the look on her face when she knew what an asshole Jack truly was underneath all the sexy charm.  That, however, would have been an act of vengeance.  Daniel loved Jack so much, he didn’t want revenge for what Jack had done to him.

All he wanted, he suddenly knew, was out.

He straightened up, studying her through half-closed eyes, down the length of his nose, his insides turned to ice, cold rage gripping his heart.  “Yes, I’m sure he’ll call you soon,” Daniel said softly.  He was so angry he wanted to slap her, kick her ass off the porch, and slam the door after her, but he maintained tight control of his temper.  It was Jack he was truly furious with, not this easy, foolish tramp of a woman.  His body was rigid with disgust, heart filled with contempt.  “It’s been nice meeting you, Kathy,” he lied easily.  “But I’ve got a couple more errands to run for Jack.  Thanks for stopping by.”  He was already closing the door.

“Yeah, it was nice meeting you, too, Dave.”  She turned away from the porch with a little wave and strolled back across the front lawn toward her car. 

Daniel didn’t bother correcting his name.  His heart was ripping in half, but somehow he had managed to keep from showing that woman just what a wreck he was inside.  The door shut with a quiet, final click, and he just leaned his forehead against it, his heart pounding so hard his whole body was trembling. 

Finally, he loosed the storm of emotion raging inside him from their encounter.  Tears streamed down his face while anguished gasps and hoarse sobs wrenched from his throat. His body shook with torment, shuddering against the door, his left hand pressed against it for support. His stomach threatened to revolt, his guts doing flip-flops. 

Jack couldn’t do this to him.  He wouldn’t, not in a million years.  It just wasn’t fucking possible.

But the evidence had just walked away from him, her laughter still ringing in his ears. 

Daniel didn’t know how long he stood there, propped against the door.  Once the tempest had passed and he could think straight again, a deadly calm filled him.  He wiped his face on his sleeve, took the dry cleaning into the bedroom, and hung it in the closet.  Then he went into the living room and started to pace, looking back over the last several weeks at Jack's behavior, questioning everything.

He’d started to withdraw from Daniel long before he'd made that fateful trip to the nursery.  Maybe the freshness and novelty of their nine-month relationship had worn off, and Jack had been looking for a way out.  Something had been bothering him; Daniel hadn’t been blind to that fact.  Maybe Jack had been reconsidering his orientation, and had decided he was straight after all.  Maybe Daniel simply hadn't been enough for him sexually.  He knew Jack wanted to top him, but he hadn't been able to comply with that wish, and Daniel thought Jack had made his peace with that.  Their relationship wasn't 50/50; it couldn’t be, and maybe that had bothered Jack more than he'd shown.

Daniel knew that Jack had a hard time talking about his feelings and needs.  Maybe Daniel had been partly responsible for driving Jack away.  That softened his resolve for a moment, but the more he thought about it, the more he decided it didn't matter.  Jack had betrayed him in the worst possible way, and Daniel didn't want to stick around for more.

Whatever the reason behind Jack's betrayal, Daniel still had to confirm what that bitch had said.  There was only one thing left to do, and that was to give Jack a chance to confirm or deny his relationship with that woman.  Daniel owed him that much, at least. 

He picked up the phone in the living room and dialed Jack's cell phone number, checking his watch to see if Jack might be at the Pentagon or in his hotel room.  It was two time zones later on the East Coast, and a safe bet he'd be in his room for the night.

Jack answered on the second ring.  "Hey, Daniel," he said warmly into the line.  "You're home early."

Daniel paced the living room floor, trying to figure out how to get this unpleasantness started.  Keeping his tone casual, he said, "Yeah, I had errands to run.  Dry cleaning and all that."

He paused and stopped walking, his heart beating in his throat.  "Um, Jack?  I just wanted to.  Ah.  Let you know that.  Um.  Kathy Pierce stopped by to see you." 

He held his breath, waiting, hoping Jack would say something, anything that would refute what that fucking woman had told him.

For a long time, there was only silence on the other end of the line.

That was an answer in itself.  Cold rage turned hot, like fire in Daniel’s veins.  He started to tremble.  He was pacing again, pounding the floor with the tip of his cane with every step.

Jack's voice, when he did speak, was deep, heavy with grief and regret.  "I'm sorry, Daniel.  I never meant to hurt you."

"Yeah, I'll bet," he shot back sarcastically, allowing some venom to seep out into his tone.  He wanted to shout and hit something, but there would be no point in having a tantrum, now that he knew the truth.  "But you know what?  You did hurt me, Jack.  You have hurt me, more deeply than you can imagine.  You betrayed me. You betrayed us.”  He paused to try to force himself to breathe.  All that remained was ending this sham of a relationship, and getting the hell away from there.  “I'll be out of the house before you get home,” he continued in a no-nonsense voice.  “A car from the base will pick you up at the airport."

He held the phone to his ear, not sure what else he was expecting to hear.  There was nothing, not even the sound of Jack's breathing.

"See you around, Jack," he growled into the phone.  "It's been a real education."  

He hung up and lobbed the phone into the couch cushions, exasperated and incredulous beyond measure.  He started pacing the floor again, certain that whatever they'd had together was over.  He had no idea how that would affect them at work.  Maybe Jack would resign, but Daniel sure wasn't going to leave the SGC.  They barely saw each other at the base anymore, except for arranged lunch dates and occasional meetings that involved both of their departments, so maybe it would be workable if both of them stayed.

He didn't want to think about any of that at the moment, choosing to deal with any future contact as it happened.  As he headed down the hall, the phone started to ring.  He didn’t have to check the Caller ID to know who it was, and he didn’t want to talk to him.  He had no intention of answering it.  It had to be Jack.  After six rings, the voice mail kicked in and the phone went silent. 

He stood in the bedroom doorway for a moment, staring at their bed, remembering their last night together and the lovemaking they’d shared.  He was sick at heart, nauseous, his heart torn out by the roots.  A fresh wave of grief hit him hard, and he staggered, barely making it to the bed before his knees gave out.  He sat down with a thump, pulling off his glasses and dropping them on the bedside table, weeping into his hands, his back to the bed they’d so joyfully shared, mourning for what they’d had and now, lost forever.

His heart felt like a cold, painful lump of devastation in his chest, a dead thing lodged in there, and he had no idea how to go on.  He knew he had to get up, make plans, get himself and his things out of Jack’s space, but the weight of his grief bore him down.  He hung his head, wiping at his face in a futile effort to stop the torrent of tears, and spoke to Jack, picturing his beloved face in his mind’s eye.

 “Why, Jack?” he moaned.  “Why?”  It was all he wanted to know, but there was no answer to that question in the empty house, and there would never be.  “I love you,” he whispered in agony.  “I love you.  Why did you do this to us?  To me?  I only wanted to love you.”  He spent many minutes lost in his misery, unable to tear himself away from the fresh, raw pain of his lost dreams.

The phone rang on the nightstand again, but he didn’t bother answering it.

With a long, shaky breath, he lifted his head and shut off his tears, listening as the ringing stopped.  Moments later the phone rang yet again, and after the third time it went to voice mail, he got up and took it off the hook so he wouldn’t have to listen to it anymore. 

Hobbling over to the closet, he started taking his clothes out and laying them on the bed.  He emptied his drawers and took his personal items from the bathroom, tossing everything down with his garments.   

At that point, his cell phone started to chirp.  He tore it out of his pocket and flipped it open impatiently.  He had to check the Caller ID this time, since it could have been work calling.  But the readout said JACK.  “Fuck off, will you?”  he muttered.  With a vicious stab of his index finger, he shut if off, closed it and tossed it on the bed next to his other belongings. 

He got his luggage out from a storage closet and stuffed what he could of his clothes into his suitcases, the rest going into garbage bags.

Room by room he cleaned out, carrying all his things into the spare room.  There was no way he could completely move out by himself, and would need to get boxes to pack up his books and other personal items, and someone to help him carry everything.  Pulling out of Jack’s life would take time, but if everything were out of Jack’s space, put away into the spare room with the door closed, it would be easier to gather it all up later.

When he thought he had most everything in there, it was getting late.  He made sure to go back into the bedroom to hang up the phone and then started taking what he could of his clothes and other personal items, his journals and computer, loading everything into the back of Jack’s big truck. 

He took all of it back to the base with him.  With the help of a couple of young, able-bodied airmen, he moved his things back into his lockdown quarters until other rooms could be assigned to him, as they had been when he’d returned from Vis Uban.

He’d make arrangements to have someone from the base retrieve the rest of his belongings from Jack’s place.  He intended to never set foot in that house again.  Once he had everything squared away in his temporary quarters, he went topside again and drove the truck back to Jack’s house.  He left it in the garage and used his cell phone to call a taxi to return him to the base.

Back at the SGC, he took his set of keys to the truck and house, went by Jack’s office, and left them on his desk.  Almost as an afterthought, he scribbled a short note to leave with the keys.

He phoned the motor pool and made arrangements for a driver to pick Jack up at the airport when his flight from Washington arrived the next afternoon. 

With all the necessary things done, it was quite late.  With both his head and his bad knee throbbing, Daniel headed for his office and sat down to do something, anything that might possibly take his mind off Jack. 

Thinking about Colonel Jack O’Neill, USAF, Retired, was the last thing he wanted to do for a very long time.

~~**~~

**31 March**

The Next Day 

When Jack stepped inside his front door, he could immediately see that Daniel had completely removed his presence from their home.  All his personal mementoes and artifacts, his photographs, every trace of the man seemed to be gone. Jack saw the mantel over the fireplace now bore nothing but his medals and Jack’s family photos. There were holes now where Daniel’s things had been and no longer were.

Jack's insides were cold and taut as he slowly walked down the hall, suitcase in hand, to their bedroom. Opening the closet door, he saw that Daniel’s half of it was empty. He sat down on the bed, holding his head in his hands, reeling with the evidence of the damage he’d done. 

Nothing mattered, not anymore.  Jack pulled his cell phone from his pocket and flipped it open.  There were messages, all from the same very familiar number, that he had ignored during his trip to the Pentagon.  He deleted them without listening to them before dialing the same number, which he had memorized.

He’d been dreading coming home to an empty house, but this task was a welcome one.  It would be a relief for him to finally get it over and done.  There was no longer any need for his relationship with Kathy, now that Daniel was gone.  He could finally make the call that he should have made weeks ago.

After two short rings, she answered with an upbeat hello. 

“Hello, Kathy,” he said in a flat voice.  “Daniel told me you came by the house yesterday.” 

She sounded pleased to hear from him, and her words stabbed him in the heart.  As he listened to her cheery voice, tears filling his eyes.  “Yeah, he’s a nice guy.  My best friend.”  The words stuck in his throat. 

He let loose a shaky sigh and swallowed so his voice would sound intelligible.  He cleared his throat.  “But he was more than that, too.  You see, he was my lover, and now that he’s met you and found out what we did, he’s left me.”  He paused for a second, dimly aware of the gasp of surprise audible even over the phone, followed by a stony silence on the other end. “I should never have done what I did with you, Kathy.  It was a shitty thing to do to both of you.  I’m sorry.  Now it's over between us.  Goodbye.”

He clicked the phone shut without listening to her reply.  It rang again almost immediately, no doubt her calling back to argue, to rail, to cry. He didn’t want to hear it, not from her.  Quietly, his heart sinking down into his shoes, he turned off the phone and went to lay it on his dresser.

Then he sat down again on the edge of the bed he’d shared with Daniel, and bent his head. No tears came, no prayers rose.  His heart was silent and cold.

Eventually he got up and walked through the house, discovering the accumulation of Daniel’s things gathered in the guest room.  It was almost a relief to find them there, but then he realized why Daniel hadn’t taken them with him.  He couldn’t, because of his bad knee.  He would need someone to box everything up and carry them out for him, and he wouldn’t want the help to come from Jack.  He'd probably have Sam and Teal'c pick up the rest of his things for him, which would tell them without saying a word that their relationship was over. 

Jack stood staring at the neat stacks of books, the artifacts placed lovingly in secure places where they wouldn’t fall and break. Jack wanted to touch them, to feel some connection with Daniel through the things he treasured, but he couldn’t.  That would be a violation.  He had no right to any of that anymore, and that thought constricted his throat.

This was his own fault. He had no one to blame but himself.  With a sigh, he turned away and closed the door to the guest room, leaving everything as he had found it.

Sometime later, he checked the garage for the truck.  He drove to the base and headed straight for his office, where he found Daniel’s set of keys and a note.  He sat down at his desk to read it, not sure his knees would keep him upright long enough to get through it.  When he unfolded the sheet of Air Force notepaper that Daniel had torn off the pad on Jack’s desk, he was surprised at how few words were written there. 

The SGC needs our expertise.  We should not allow personal matters to obscure what good we can do for the human race.  I’m willing to do my part.  If you can’t do yours, that’s your choice, but I’m staying.

D.

Jack folded the note and put it into his coat pocket, the words burned forever into his memory.

He wondered if that said pretty much everything that needed to be said between them.  Still, he needed to try.  Mustering every ounce of courage he had left, he took the note and headed for Daniel’s office.   

The door stood open, and Daniel sat hunched over his desk, the overheads off, desk lamp on, and a big bottle of Extra Strength Tylenol open on the blotter among the books.  Behind his glasses, Daniel’s eyes were red-rimmed.  Jack could tell by the slump of his posture that he was bone-weary.  Obviously, he’d had a hard night.

Stepping quietly into the room, Jack stopped by the desk and laid the note down to announce his presence.

Daniel didn’t look up, just kept scribbling on the pad.

“We have to talk, Daniel,” Jack said quietly.  “I need to explain—“

“No.  No, you don’t.  I don’t wanna hear it.  I don’t wanna know.”

“I have to tell you.  I need you to understand—“

“No, Jack,” Daniel bit out, teeth clenched in leashed anger, blue eyes flashing up to meet Jack's, his expression filled with potent rage.  “We go back to square one.  We work together.  We do our jobs.  From here on out, that’s all there is for us.  Period.”  He snapped his eyes back down to his desk top, refusing to look at Jack for one more second.  “Now, leave.”

Jack stood there for a moment longer.  He lifted his chin slightly, something in his heart deflating, going dark, like a light bulb suddenly switched off.  “All right, Daniel.  We’ll talk when you’re ready.  Meanwhile, I’ll be waiting.”

“Waiting?  I’ll never be ready, Jack.  It’s over.”  Daniel spoke to his notepad on the desk in front of him, his posture stiff and unforgiving, brooking no argument.  “So get the fuck out of my office until you have some official reason for being here.” 

Daniel reached for the analgesic with shaking hands and shook two tablets out onto the desk.  He tossed the pills into his mouth, tipped his head back, and swallowed them dry, his eyes daring Jack to say anything more.

Jack watched him for a moment longer, picked up the note Daniel had left for him, then pivoted on his heel with perfect military grace and headed for the door.  He paused, glancing back over his shoulder at Daniel, who was pretending to be working again.

He knew it was too little, too late, but he needed to say it anyway.  He closed the office door, guaranteeing their privacy, and leaned his back against it, hand still on the doorknob.  His voice sounded small and pitiful in his own ears. He looked at the floor, some place about a foot in front of the toes of his boots.  “I’m a stupid goddamned fuck-up, Daniel.  Everything I care about always turns to shit, because I have to find some way to screw it up.  I know you don’t want to hear it, but my feelings for you have never changed, and they never will.  I know you won’t believe me now, but I… care about you, more than you’ll ever know, and I’m sorry I hurt you.  I guess the best way I can show you that is to give you what you want and let you go… so goodbye.”

He turned quickly to yank open the door and stepped out into the corridor, tucking the note back into his jacket pocket.  He leaned his forehead against the cold, gray concrete wall where Daniel couldn’t see him and closed his eyes, which were burning with unshed tears.

The words he’d so wanted to say hadn’t come, but now, where Daniel couldn’t hear them, they tumbled out in a harsh, ragged whisper.  “I love you, Danny.  I always will."

After a moment, he gathered himself and straightened up, making his way back out into the world, and home to his empty house.

~~**~~

With a sigh of relief, Daniel’s shoulders and head sagged, frustration and despair a physical presence in his throat.  Anger still burned in his soul, a low flame that kept him simmering, but he knew that eventually that fire would burn out and leave nothing but cold ashes in its wake.  In his wounded heart, he felt that cold ashes were better than hot rage.  He’d lived through massive loss before in his life, and he could live through this trauma, too.  He had to concentrate on finding a way to shut Jack out of his heart, to protect himself from the inevitable further apologies and begging that was sure to come.

For his own sanity, he had to find a way to keep things on an even keel, strictly professional.  They had jobs to do, and they were among the best the SGC had on its staff.  Failing that, if tensions remained too high, he’d already decided he would quit and try to find a teaching position somewhere.

All Daniel really knew for sure was that, as far as he was concerned, Jack O’Neill could go to hell.

He worked for a couple of more hours, until he was so weary he couldn’t seem to make sense of anything he was reading.  Knowing he’d have to go and try to rest, he shut up his office and headed for his base quarters.  He half expected Jack to be there, waiting for him, wanting to talk again, but the room was dark and empty, and a sense of disappointment settled over him.

He closed the door behind himself and spent many long minutes pacing, waiting with dread and, if he were honest with himself, a faint glimmer of hope for Jack to appear.  Part of him wanted Jack to be there, begging him to come back.  If he did, if Jack were persistent about forgiveness, Daniel wasn’t at all sure he could continue to push him away, although he wanted that. 

Daniel figured that Jack was just giving him time to cool off, which was smart.  That must be why he hadn’t appeared to dog Daniel into conversation.  He’d probably wait until Daniel wasn’t expecting it and then pounce.  Daniel, however, had already decided that he’d be ready with one very cold shoulder, since he’d resolved that Jack shouldn’t be forgiven.  The time for talking was long gone.  Jack had hurt Daniel too much, and he couldn’t afford to lay his heart open to that kind of torment again.  It had to be over between them, for Daniel’s own sake.

All he had to do was maintain his determination and not give Jack a second chance.

. 

Jack didn’t show, and as the hour grew late, the lack of sleep and emotional exhaustion of the last few days eventually made Daniel limp with fatigue.  He started to undress for bed.

Sliding into his lonely bed, cocooned in cool, unrumpled sheets, Daniel closed his eyes and eventually slept. 

~~**~~

**19 April**

Three Weeks Later  

Jack surveyed his green and neatly trimmed yard.  Flowers were just beginning to bloom in bold splashes of color.  Their vividness hurt his eyes.  They also hurt his soul, since they were constant reminders of what he’d stupidly ground into the dirt.  Daniel hadn't just drifted away; he'd been stabbed in the heart.

Jack could no longer tolerate the sight of the garden he’d so carefully designed as a tribute to his love.  It was beginning to awaken and flourish, and the sight of it constantly taunted him.

He started with the potted plants, loading them all up into the back of his truck.  He drove to a nursing home not far from his house and donated them to the facility, personally carrying each one to wherever the staff wanted them.

Upon returning home, he took the hedge clippers and a hand saw to all the bushes, cutting them down near their bases.  After hauling the limbs out to his truck, he returned to the garden beds with a shovel and proceeded to methodically dig up what stumps he could until darkness and the pain in his back and knees forced him to stop for the night.

A hot shower helped a little, but by the time he made it to bed, his back was starting to cramp.  Jack lay in the darkened room, moving just enough to keep the pain constant.  It was near dawn before his muscles finally relaxed enough to let him sleep, and he was groggy when the alarm went off.

Rising automatically, his body was stiff and sore from all the hard labor.  Another hot shower loosened him up and, after throwing a tarp over the dead plants in the truck bed, he drove in to the base to work.

He stayed at his desk as he often did, every moment spent resisting the powerful urge to get up and go to Daniel, who was like a siren to Jack, constantly calling to him.  It was heartbreaking to be so near, just doors away down the corridor, and yet light-years apart.  Even after the death of their relationship, Jack felt the emotional bond between them, tugging at him, connecting them in some twisted form of cosmic punishment for his transgression.

As more time passed, they walked by each other in the halls of the SGC without a word, making no gesture of recognition.  In rare meetings when both were present, they did their jobs and participated as if nothing were amiss.  If they had to speak to one another in the course of their work, they were both carefully polite. 

Jack felt like a zombie, a dead man walking through his life.  His heart was utterly empty except for the tug he felt whenever he saw Daniel, heard his voice or his name. 

And every day when he returned home after a stop at the city landfill to dump off the previous day’s uprooted plants, he would change into sweats and head to the back yard, diligently digging and pulling up flowers one by one until they were all gone, leaving great ugly holes marring the brilliant green lawn.  As he looked around the landscape, he caught sight of the cedar and ash trees, mocking him silently.

I live for thee.  I watch over thee.

Great fucking job he’d done of both.  He’d broken Daniel’s heart, killed Daniel’s love for him, and destroyed their friendship in the process.  Now they were reduced to being coworkers, and barely civil ones at that.

The trees he decided he would keep as reminders.

He surveyed the back yard, the green grass radiant in the spring sunshine.  The next day was Saturday, and with any luck, by the time Monday rolled around, he’d have the lawn out of sight, too.  When that was done, he’d tackle the front yard until there was nothing living left in his view.  It had taken him a little over a week to eradicated the bushes and flowers, but removing the lawn would take quite a bit of time, since he was doing it all himself.

~~**~~

Three more weeks passed, as spring moved toward early summer.  Jack dug up the grass by the shovel full, then raked the bare dirt and covered it with sheets of thick black plastic weighted down with sand until the whole lawn was gone.  Every evening and all day weekends after that, he spent hauling small, manageable loads of flagstones from the local garden and home improvement centers, laying them down a few at a time, until the entire yard was crudely paved.

When that project was finished, he turned to the front yard, giving it the same treatment.  He bought a load of smooth, rounded river stones and stacked them into the front garden beds, ugly piles of rock that hid the plastic and sand beneath them. 

The work kept his body busy, but with every movement, every task begun and finished, he thought of Daniel.

Although Jack never spoke to him except in necessary business conversations, he couldn’t help looking.  He filled his eyes with the vision of that beautiful man and remembered what he had done, what he had thrown away, soaking in the pain, like picking at a wound that he couldn't let heal.  And then, when the meetings were over, he would quietly tuck his anguish away, gather up his meeting notes and retreat to his office to return to work. 

Daniel didn’t look much better than he did, and that worried him.  Jack knew he wasn’t sleeping much and never went outside.  He was pale, with dark circles under his eyes, and he was growing steadily thinner.  Jack wanted to hold him and comfort him, tell him that everything would be all right, but he couldn’t.  All he could do was give Daniel time to get over him, because that was the best thing for him.

Carter and Teal’c were the first to notice when things had gone so horribly wrong.  Jack had known Daniel had told them something when they’d come to move the rest of his things, but they hadn’t gone into detail, and Jack hadn’t asked.  They had expressed their sympathy and support, and he had politely thanked them. Afterward, they had come by often, trying to get him to go out with them, inviting him to Sam’s house for dinner, but Jack had turned them down every time and finally he’d requested that they stop asking after him and do what they could to help Daniel.

That was all that mattered to Jack, and if anyone could offer Daniel the comfort he needed, it would be those two.  When they’d stopped visiting, he’d started work on the yard as a means to keep himself busy, and to provide t