Author's Notes: A pox on Rosean Lachance for getting me started on this, and thank you to Maria Guyan and Rosean for betaing the story for problems. This story is dedicated to my friend Erin Gieg's cats: Max (Jack) and Bear (Daniel). May they put their differences aside like their "namesakes" and get their act together.
DISCLAIMER: All characters and property of Stargate SG-1 belong to MGM/UA, World Gekko Corp. and Double Secret Productions. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
"Oh, for crying out loud! Keep your pants on! I'm coming, I'm coming!"
Scowling as the doorbell rang for the second time, Jack O'Neill glanced behind him at the television one last time, both hoping that his team would get a goal, but just not while he was away. There was always instant replay, he knew, but it lacked the authenticity of watching it the first time. And woe to he who rang the doorbell in the first place!
The door opened to reveal Daniel Jackson, his finger poised over the button as he looked behind him momentarily while waiting for a response. At the sound of O'Neill clearing his throat, the archaeologist realized that someone was standing before him and sheepishly looked at his friend.
"You rang?" Jack quipped, looking down in a Lurch-ish kind of way.
"Uh, well, yeah..." The owlish way Daniel looked at him from behind his glasses told Jack that he didn't get the joke. "Do you want me to knock next time? It sounds like it's working fine, though."
He rolled his eyes as he ushered the guest in. "Never mind, Daniel. Just get in here, okay? And if I missed a goal, watch out!"
"The game already started?" Daniel looked mildly alarmed as he skittered into the house. While hockey wasn't his favorite thing in the entire world, probably numbering around five hundred on his list of preferable activities, the evening was a team night. Unfortunately, it had also been Jack's turn to pick the activity. "I didn't think I was late."
"The game was scheduled earlier tonight," Jack explained, taking Daniel's jacket to place it in the closet.
"Oh. As long as it's not me." Taking a few steps into the living room, Daniel looked around, his eyes widening as he realized that the room was significantly cleaner than it usually was. "Whoa. Did the bomb not go off in here? I can actually see the floor in places."
"What can I say?" the Colonel grinned as he made a trip to the kitchen. "It's the playoffs! I've got company and an excuse to order in cheap fast food. What more can I ask for, other than a clean win that completely trashes the other team? Want a beer?"
"Sure. From what Teal'c tells me, that's going to take a miracle or two." Daniel paused, pushing his glasses back up his nose again as the host offered him a beer. He couldn't help making a face as he realized that it was one of the more tasteless American ones. One of the downsides of world travel, he mused, was the opportunity to try and develop a taste for foreign beers that weren't carried in the local liquor store.
"Don't bad mouth 'em," Jack chided. "It's bad luck."
Daniel had to laugh as he took his usual spot on the couch. "I thought you didn't believe in luck?"
"Only when the team's involved," he confessed. "Okay, so it's a little unusual, but it's in the name of hockey! It's a sacred game, for crying out loud."
"Right. Jack, sacred games usually decided who was going to be sacrificed next to the gods," Daniel grinned.
"Winner or loser?" he asked suspiciously.
"Usually the winners. It was a great honor. They were the best and most skilled, after all. The gods wouldn't be appeased with anything less." This was getting good. The look on Jack's face told anyone who happened to be looking -- even if the audience only included Daniel at the moment -- that he wasn't too thrilled with this bit of cultural information.
"Great, talk about a one-shot wonder," Jack grumbled. "What happened to the losers?"
"Oh, they usually killed themselves out of shame. They did, after all, just lose the honor of being the sacrifice to the gods." Daniel took another sip, trying not to wince too much. "So, a wonderful time was had by all."
"That's a cheery thought," he sighed, pausing before taking a swig of his own drink. "So let me guess. It's the... Aztecs who did this? Am I right?"
When there was no answer from his friend, Jack glanced over at him, and had to swallow his mouthful of beer in a hurry. He was in danger of spewing it. The look on Daniel's face was just priceless; his hand was raised halfway between his lap and lips, his mouth hanging open as he stared in shock at the Colonel.
"Was it something I said?" Jack put on an innocent smile as Daniel blinked, still gaping widely. "Come on, Danny boy, keep looking at me like that, and something's going to buzz in. You look like a trout."
Obediently, he shut his mouth. "How did you know that?"
"I'm full of interesting trivia," he grinned, giving an evil chuckle at his friend's astonishment. "Or maybe I learned it by osmosis. You're always spouting gobbledygook about this culture and that civilization that some of it must have sunk in somehow."
"Oh." Closed mouth or not, the stunned expression was still on the archaeologist's face as he stared. After a few moments, he shook his head. "I'm going to have to write this one down, Jack. Too bad Sam's not here to witness this."
"She'll never believe you, and my reputation for scientific ignorance will remain intact," Jack told him, knowing that the ruse was just that these days, especially since the hobby he'd taken up over the years had proven to be useful on more than a few occasions. And to think that Sarah had thought him crazy when he'd bought the telescope!
"Oh, I don't think so, Mr. 'It's called an accretion disc,'" Daniel countered. "Anyway, you're always telling me that I look like a trout. If you'd stop saying things out of the blue like that which are completely out of character -- and don't say, 'What things?', Jack! You know what things. To use your analogy, don't dangle the bait if you don't want the fish to bite."
"That's a double negative, Danny boy," he teased. He couldn't help it. Daniel was just too much fun to poke fun at, and usually took the ribbing good naturedly.
"And that's the other thing!" came the reply. "You seem to take great delight in embarrassing me all the time. And when you're not doing that you're telling me to shut up and go away, or come here, or stay. Oh, and lest we forget, the Danny boy bit. Did I ever mention that my name's not Danny, but Daniel? That's eye-eeh-el, not en-why?"
With a forlorn glance at the television screen, thankful that there was a time-out and the commentators were babbling on about the two teams' performance, Jack put his attention back to his younger friend. At least, his team was winning for the moment.
"Okay, okay," he said, hoping that this was the extent of Daniel's rant. True, he did sometimes pick more on Daniel than he should, but he'd never meant it in a maligning way. He was just like a younger brother whose purpose in life was to be bother unmercifully. "You win, Daniel. And note the usage of the name, Daniel."
"Thank you," nodded the victor.
"No prob. Now, are you finished yet?" The flashes of the last period's replays caught Jack's eye, tempting and ultimately winning back his concentration before a line of commercials began. "If you are, sit down, relax, and I'm gonna explain this game to you."
"But I already know something about the game," Daniel protested, but was cut off by the wave of a hand. He sat back in renewed frustrated silence.
"When the game starts again, there's two teams, right?" His fingers dancing the air illustrated what would soon be shown. "One's in red jerseys, the other's in white. We're cheering for the guys in the red ones. Not white. They're bad, like the Goa'uld."
There was a snort from the sofa. "Yeah, right. Jack, your team's lost three straight games against the white ones. Or so Teal'c says, and I don't think the Goa'uld could ever do that..."
"Shh!" He held up a finger in warning. "What did ancient cultures do to people who blasphemed?"
"The gods usually shot them down." Daniel looked at him, face partially hidden by the beer bottle, but by the sparkle in his blue eyes, he was more than amused. "Method depended on the deity. Thunderbolts were popular. Disease, death, insanity, maiming, you name it."
With outstretched hands, Jack looked first to the ceiling, trying not to notice that he needed to have the place seriously cleaned, which meant more than just tidying. That would require thought that would detract from the performance he was trying to give.
"Oh, mighty hockey god, support thy follower and the one true team, and strike down all that oppose your will," he said in a loud voice, as though he were in one of the grand theatrical movies from the sixties. "The righteous shall gain the symbol of your favor, and..." Something cold and wet trickled onto his head, running down in rivulets along his neck to soak into his collar and below. Interrupting his great performance, Jack jumped up and ran his hands through his hair. "Argh! What the hell was that?"
"Just adding to the image," Daniel laughed, still holding his half empty beer ready for pouring. "You were just so enthusiastic, I had to make sure it was authentic!"
Jack rolled his eyes as he tried to wipe the wetness from his neck. "Why do I get the feeling that I don't want to know where you go that from?"
"You'll love it," the archaeologist promised. "To be enthused means that you're en theos, or have the god in you. It was a part of the Bacchean cult, when the followers of Dionysus would get very, very drunk and run wild."
"Being drunk means that it's inside your body, Daniel," the Colonel griped. "Not on the outside."
"True," he admitted, "but after you're drunk, I don't think you can tell. Besides, they had a lot of fun. The women, for example, were called Maenads. They would go completely insane while they were drunk, and they frequently tore up animals and ate their flesh. Sometimes men who got in their way had the same treatment."
"If I ever get neighbors like that, please let me know." With a grimace, Jack realized that getting the beer off him wasn't going to be easy. Instead, he looked down at his amused guest. Daniel was enjoying this way too much. He allowed himself a very slow smile. "But you know what?"
"What?" Wide blue eyes looked at him.
"There might be something to that May-nag ladies you were talking about," he told him. Before the archaeologist could reply, Jack tackled him. Caught by surprise as he opened his mouth to automatically correct Jack's error, Daniel found himself besieged by Jack's taller bulk, but he still managed to fight it off. He gave the older man a shove, but as he tumbled back, Jack had a strong enough grasp on Daniel that they both landing on the floor in a heap.
"Jack!" Daniel yelped as he found himself pinned underneath.
"Got something to say, Danny boy?" Jack relished in the nickname, seeing his friend's cheeks redden both from irritation and exertion. "I can't hear ya."
"What about the game?" he asked, testing the weight.
"Game?" Jack's eyes widened as he realized that the second period had started sometime during the tackle, but the moment he was focused on his team instead of his teammate, he felt himself nearly thrown to the ground as Daniel wrestled his way out. "Hey! I'm trying to watch this here!"
"I don't think so!" Daniel declared.
"All right, Jackson!" Jack glared up at the merry face, getting ready to reestablish his dominance. "This is war!"
"Fine, O'Neill! I accept your challenge!"
"Fine!" Smirking at the way Daniel stuck his tongue out at him, Jack pushed at him, and he landed back on the floor. They quickly became a mass of limbs flying about, mixing liberally with the shouts and protests from the two participants.
Having heard the commotion from outside through the open windows, Sam Carter glanced at Teal'c, seeing that the Jaffa's eyebrow seemed to be rising to new heights. She smiled, knowing that nothing either Jack O'Neill or Daniel Jackson did seemed to make much sense to him. Shaking her head, she continued the discussion that had been going on in the car as they made their way inside for the impromptu gathering.
"Remember what I was saying, Teal'c, about the difference between human males and females?" The front door opened, and a few steps inside gave them a clear view of the wrestling archaeologist and Colonel. "Here's a perfect example of what I was talking about. Human males never grow up."
"I heard that, Captain!" Jack protested. "Go ahead, take a seat, and enjoy the game, since I'll be needing your assistance in telling me what I missed. I'm a little occupied at the moment."
"I see," Teal'c intoned, looking at the writhing two. "O'Neill and Daniel Jackson are blocking the view of the television."
"Be finished in a minute, Teal'c," Jack promised, breathing heavily as he finally pinned a squirming Daniel down on the ground. With a short cry of triumph, he secured himself a comfortable position on the younger man's chest. "There we go! I won. So, hi, guys, how are you?"
"You did... not win!" Daniel protested breathlessly, glaring up at Jack. "This... is because... you... cheated! End... of argument."
"Oh, yeah, it's the end, but that's because I whipped your sorry butt, Jackson," he crowed. "And I did not cheat!"
"Yes, you did!" He didn't seem to make it sound very convincing.
"Did not."
"Did, too."
"Didn't."
"Did."
"Didn't."
"Did, and get off me!" Daniel demanded in a rushed breath. "You're gonna crush my chest for sure!"
Mildly irritated, Teal'c nodded his agreement with the archaeologist. "You must desist from your actions, O'Neill. Cease it before one or the other becomes injured."
"Yeah, yeah," Jack waved off the Jaffa's words, looking down at the vanquished. "So, Danny, what do you think? I think the blasphemy has been defeated, don't you?"
"God, I don't think I want to know," Carter moaned.
"It's not going to change the facts!" Daniel countered Jack's words. "Ask Teal'c! He'll agree with me that they're doomed from the start. Right, Teal'c?"
"Indeed." Teal'c attention was split between the bickering and the action on the ice, and he tilted his head slightly as he looked at the older man sitting on Daniel's chest. "Your white team will fall before the end of this activity."
"No, they won't!" Jack countered, frustrated by the nay-sayers. "Look at them, they're winning! Two points to nada for the losers. End of argument, right?"
"You are incorrect, O'Neill. I see a pattern that has developed with this activity involving these individuals."
"Right, Teal'c, you've been watching it for three --" This time, Jack's yelp was shrill, and more high-pitched than Carter thought possible from the generally low-voiced Colonel. "Oh, for crying out loud! Ow!"
In a blur of motion, Jack was soon landed on his side on the carpet as Daniel scurried out from underneath Jack to the safety of the other side of the room. Teal'c watched the two scatter, then gave Carter a solemn nod.
"I now understand your statement completely, Captain Carter," he told her, looking vaguely amused as he turned his attention back to his other teammates. Daniel was poised by a table, ready to dart at a moment's notice. He looked suspiciously like a rabbit, Carter noted. "Shall we send them to their rooms?"
The grin she got on her face was nearly spread from ear to ear. "Good idea!"
"No, not a good idea!" Daniel protested, eyes wide but not daring to look away from Jack who was slowly getting back to his feet. "He started it!"
"Yeah, right!" Jack took a few steps forward, clutching his injured wrist as he went. "I'm not the one who decided to be like a May-nad, for crying out loud! What do they put in the water at your place, yeesh! You're turning into a cannibal! Where the hell did you learn that?"
"Learn what?" Carter asked, her smile fading slightly.
"The geek bit me!"
With that, Jack took off after the archaeologist, covering the space between them in a few leaps. Seeing the sudden advance, Daniel ducked into the kitchen, yelling as he ran, and barely missed the Colonel's one-handed grab.
"I got it from Sam!" he called over his shoulder. "Remember when she bit you on the Goa'uld ship? It's a handy thing to learn! And that's Maenad, not May-nad!"
"Great! Next time the snakes come, I'll sic you both on 'em!" Appearing in the door separating the living room from the kitchen, Jack could see his prey cornered at the other end, easily only a few steps away. With a smile, he began his final approach, watching Daniel's eyes grow larger with every foot covered. "And now we're down to business, Jackson."
"Um, Jack..." Daniel nervously looked about him, desperately thinking of a way to get past him and back into the safety of Teal'c and Sam's company. Pressing up against the wall, he suddenly felt the screen door's handle digging into his back. Nonchalantly reaching behind to grasp it, he waited for Jack to get to the right spot, when he could tell the Colonel was about to lunge to grab him. When that happened, he yanked the door open, and slipped through. As he shut the door, he watched through the screen as the inevitable happened.
Realizing too late that Daniel had evaded him yet again, and with the double whammy of being unable to stop his momentum and not anticipating a solid barrier, there was a loud thud as Jack collided head on with the door. He cursed and groaned as another injury was added to his inventory.
"Ow! Dammit, Daniel!" He covered the spot with his hands, feeling it tentatively as he grimaced. "That hurts!"
Outside and visible through the screen, Daniel sniggered as he realized that he'd foiled his friend again, but he quickly sobered when he saw that the clutching of the head was not a joke. Forgetting all about the game, he hurried back inside, quickly crouching down to check Jack's owie.
"Jack?" he asked, gingerly reaching out to move the Colonel's hands aside to check the spot. He had to slap away Jack's hands to keep them from getting in the way. "I'm sorry, Jack, I thought that you'd be able to, uh, stop in time."
"And I tell you to duck..." came the groaned response, glancing up to catch the slightly amused smile on Daniel's otherwise concerned face. "I'm fine, just a little surprised."
"I don't think so, Jack," Daniel replied, shaking his head. "There's a bump."
"Yeah, I'll see you the next time you land on your head," he grumbled. "Smooth maneuvering, Daniel, by the way. You should try to use it more on missions."
There was a snort from the archaeologist, but before he could get a verbal reply, Sam and Teal'c barged into the room. Looking at the two "men" kneeling on the linoleum, Carter shook her head. They'd heard the yelp, but hadn't though anything of it until they'd realized that the sound output had significantly lowered.
"Sir!" Carter explained, going to kneel at Jack's other side to join in prodding the bruise. Teal'c silently followed her into the kitchen. "Are you all right?"
Irritated more at himself for getting into the mess than anything else, Jack waved the hands that were prodding his scalp. "Oh, for crying out loud! It's just a bump, I'll live. We Irishmen have thick skulls. I can take a bit of damage, and I'm not a five year old!"
"Could've fooled me, sir," Carter muttered, then coughed as she was fixed with a harsh look from her injured superior. "With all due respect, Colonel, maybe you should have that looked at."
"Or not? It's fine," Jack replied, even though he produced a wince as he probed the area again.
"Are you certain?" Teal'c asked, not apparently buying the human's words.
"Yeah..." Seeing his opportunity, and the way Daniel was vulnerably leaving himself open for a tackle, Jack lunged again for his friend. He caught Daniel completely off-guard, and pinned him to the linoleum. With a victorious grin, he proceeded to administer a thorough noogie. "Aha! I win!"
"Ow! Jack, come on, stop it..." Daniel protested, trying to push the taller man away, but utterly failing. Jack was determined to keep him down, and unable to come up with any other options, Daniel resorted to squirming again. "Jack!"
Watching the sight before her, Sam shook her head again before glancing up at Teal'c. There was something about the Jaffa's expression, almost as though he were about to sigh in exasperation, that struck her as very humorous. "Like I said, maturity rarely comes."
"That much is evident," he replied, as Daniel yelped for a second or third time. It was hard to tell with Jack laughing so loud. "I believe we must do what my wife and I would do when Ry'ac would misbehave and fight with his peers."
"I think I like this idea," she grinned. "What is it?"
The Jaffa reached down to grasp Jack's collar with one large hand to haul him upright off Daniel as he spoke. "We will separate them."
"Hey!" Jack yelled, struggling against the iron grip.
"Thank you!" a thoroughly-mussed archaeologist told Teal'c as Carter helped him to his feet. His face was red, his glasses very askew, and he smiled unsteadily at his friends. As Teal'c guided -- or dragged, really -- Jack toward one corner and Carter pulled him toward a second, Daniel's relief quickly faded. "Hey, wait!"
"Shush, Daniel, you probably egged him on," Sam admonished him, placing her hands on both his shoulders to make sure he faced the corner properly. "Okay, guys, until you can act like adults your age, stand there and don't move."
Greeted by the white-painted walls, Jack couldn't help but see how far he could push. He was getting unpleasant flashbacks to childhood stunts to begin with, and didn't -- and still didn't -- exactly relish the punishment. "Or else?"
"Or else we shall inform General Hammond that you are not able to accompany us on our next mission," Teal'c told him in no uncertain terms.
"Hey, I'm team leader, here!" came the protest.
Carter's voice had a very sweet tone to it. "Then with all due respect, act like it! Sir."
Holding her finger out as a warning for both men to stay put, Sam waited a few moments before nodding to Teal'c to head back to the living room. With a sigh, Jack realized that the period was probably nearly over, and he had no idea how the team was doing. Cursing that he'd not even considered the possibility of taping the game, he made himself a mental note to tape anything and everything else that might be on when the team came over.
Remembering what his mother had always said when putting her errant son in a corner, Jack gave the situation the obligatory contemplation, then moved his thoughts onto better things. He stared at the paint, pleased to know that unlike the living room, this wall didn't need any work for a long time to come.
He hazarded a glance at Daniel. His friend was standing with his forehead resting against one wall. He didn't appear to be too impressed with the current situation, but otherwise didn't do anything other than stare at the surface before him with his glasses resting low on his nose.
"Psst!" It took a few hisses, but Jack finally got his friend's attention. When Daniel peered over at him, he continued. "You okay?"
"Yeah. You?" Daniel's voice was barely more than a whisper, giving him the appearance of a very large six year old.
He gave a smile that tried to show that he wasn't bothered by the stunt Carter and Teal'c had pulled. "I'm okay. Just that I hate corners. This sucks, huh?"
"Oh, yeah," Daniel agreed with a vigorous nod. "'Course, I never had to stand in them as a kid. My foster siblings often did, though."
"Uh huh. So you were a goodie two shoes, eh?" Jack teased.
"Nope, just couldn't get my nose out of my books."
"Hate to tell ya, Daniel," he told him, "but that hasn't changed much. 'Cept now it's rocks --"
Daniel was quick to automatically correct him. "Artifacts."
"Right," he laughed. The point made, they fell silent again while Jack glanced back at the other room. If he listened carefully, he was positive that he could tell what as happening with the game, but after a few minutes, he gave up with a sigh. Leaning against the wall, he decided to speak again. "I wonder how long this time out is for?"
Sam's voice came from the other room, telling Jack that he'd been overheard despite his best intention to keep his voice low. "As long as it takes, sir!"
"Oh, just peachy," the Colonel moaned.
"Aw, come on, Sam!" Daniel pleaded.
"Must I come in there?" It was Teal'c's turn to sound stern.
That was one threat neither one liked. Exchanging alarmed glances, they both chimed in, "No!"
They could almost see Teal'c nod of approval. "Then remain where you are."
There was no argument from either man, but a spark of hope was held as Jack whispered conspiratorially to his fellow corner-dweller. Daniel couldn't help grinning at his words.
"Oh, just you wait, guys..." Jack O'Neill vowed. "We've got a mission coming up. Just wait. You'll have what's due. You in, Danny boy?"
Missions would never be the same again.