Title: The High Life
Author: The Blonde Sheep
Feedback: Onlist or to beth_supersaint@yahoo.com
Rating: R
Pairing: J/D
Category: Slash, kinda AU, fantasy, humor
Date: July, 2003
Status: complete
Spoilers/Season: none/ any.
Archive: Area 52, WOMB, Cartouche, JackslashDaniel AlphaGate...anyone else just
ask
Synopsis: Jack has an interesting daydream.
Notes: This is a birthday fic for Kate C (our closet obsessed lurker;) happy
birthday hun! Have a great gatey day.
And, as always a giant thank you to my brilliant beta
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its
characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret
Productions, and Gekko Productions. I do not own the characters and indeed am
only playing with them for a little while. I am not making any money from this
and I'm still paying for everything I own so there's very little point in suing
me. No copyright infringement whatsoever is intended. The story is for
entertainment purposes only. At least I hope it's entertaining. The original
characters, situations and story are mine.
Please check with me first if you want to archive or
link to this story.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If you're feeling kinda tedious
And life is seriously mediocre
Here's a trick to get your adrenaline flowing
Just step aboard a Boeing going high
bah ba ba ba ba bah
We're living the high life
We're living it well
We're living the high life
Where everything's swell
We're up in the sky
We're flying so high
Oh my oh my
We're living the high life
The High Life
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The High Life, BBC 2
~~~~~~~~~
The High Life
By the blonde sheep
~~~~~~~~~~
I'm bored. Actually, scrap that; I'm so beyond bored I've reached a whole new
level of boredness. I select another sheet of paper off the diminishing stack
and place it in front of me on the table before I start to mechanically fold
it. It's not fair. Right now I should be having some hot and sweaty sex with my
hot and sweaty archaeologist but am I? No.
I pick up the completed paper airplane, caressing it with my hands. Daniel has
a stupid departmental meeting, doesn't know what time it will end. I move the
airplane into take off position and with a skilled flick of my wrist I send it
across the living room, following the flight path of its many predecessors.
I watch as it gracefully glides through the room, slicing the air in front of it.
I fold my arms on the table and rest my chin on them still keeping my eyes on
my flying baby. I allow myself a grin of satisfaction as the wall gets in its
way. It hits it, pausing in mid-air as though realizing its nose had been
broken. Blunt and useless it un-heroically drops from the air, landing safely
on the pile of planes that met the same fate.
I love flying...
//"...So thank you for flying
I click off the intercom and glance over at my co-pilot.
"Nice landing." She smiles, unbuckling her seatbelt.
"Smooth."
"As a linguist's butt." I grin, copying her action.
"I'll have to take your word for that," she laughs. "...unless
you're offering-"
"Ah!" I cut her off. "You want to test my theory find your own
linguist."
"Spoilsport."
I mock glare at her, letting her leave the plane first. Ladies first, Mama
O'Neill taught her boy manners. Greeted by the harsh sun, I wait until I reach
the bottom of the ramp before slipping on my sunglasses and off my jacket.
"Catch ya later Carter," I call, offering her a vague salute as I
head in the direction of my linguist and his smooth butt.
I know I'm whistling as I head through the busy airport, hell I'm practically
bouncing at the prospect of getting to see my lover again after 72 hours. I
love flying, don't get me wrong, but I hate being away from Daniel for so long.
I hear the small mini sirens and turn to see the airport's mini ambulance
heading straight for me. I wisely take a step backwards, almost tripping over
an old lady's suitcase.
"Afternoon Jack!" calls Janet as she whizzes past. A medic's job is
never done. I give her a wave as I apologize to the disgruntled elderly woman
before I head towards the large 'staff only' swing doors. The very swing doors
where Daniel and I first met...he pushed them as I was about to pull them and
as a result I almost got a broken nose. Of all the ways to find your soul mate;
still I'm not complaining.
I automatically look through the glass window that our incident wisely made the
airport install before pulling open the door. I head straight for Daniel's
office. As the best translator at this airport, he gets an office near the
chaos as he never knows when he's going to be needed. He speaks so many damn
languages that he's always getting called to one argument or 'misunderstanding'
to another.
The lights are on but there's no one at home. Taking
off my sunglasses and placing them in my top pocket, I do an abrupt turn and
start a lost linguist hunt. First place to look, the staff canteen...he may
have run out of coffee or something. Coffee, a linguist's fuel.
Well there's no Daniel here but I do spot a
"Jack." He waves me over. "What's this I hear about a sudden
fifteen foot drop?"
"Um..." I'm doubting he'll care that it was for a bet...one that I
won by the way. "Oops?"
I try looking innocent as he stares me down sternly. He should be glad I didn't
try a loop the
loop...again.
"Jack you're a commercial pilot, not a stunt one, remember that for your
passengers' sake if not the airport's."
"There was only one near miss..." He glares at me. "I was
joking, no near miss."
He continues his glare. Message heard loud and clear. Besides, it wasn't as bad
as that time I let Daniel take the controls; it was only for two seconds while
I made an adjustment but man oh man what a disaster. He purposely pressed all
the damn buttons that I'd already told him not to; his only defense was he was
'curious', didn't think it would cause any harm. Tell that to the poor
passengers who were trying to eat their meals at the time.
"Your new schedule is up in the office," he announces, thankfully
changing the subject.
"Did I get the
"You'll find out when you bother to collect your sheet."
I nod with a rueful grin.
"Have you seen Daniel?" I ask him, looking around in case he's crept
in.
"No."
I nod my thanks and quickly exit before he hears about me entertaining the
passengers by singing them the A-team down the intercom; I doubt he'll see the
funny side of it.
I head back to the stream of public, lost public; airports are so confusing. I
smile as I spot T's large frame in the crowd.
"T," I shout as I jog up to him. "Kate," I acknowledge the
worker he's chatting to.
"O'Neill," the bulky security guard greets.
"Jack," greets the less scary worker at his side...before she
sneezes; hmm, reminds me of a
certain linguist...
"Have you seen Daniel?" I'm starting to get impatient.
"Indeed, I saw him ten minutes ago."
"You know where he was going?" I prompt.
"I believe Daniel Jackson was muttering something about the cleaning
closet."
I screw my face up. "What's a guy with two PhDs doing in a cleaning
closet?"
T shrugs his broad shoulders.
"Perhaps he likes the closet," Kate suggests neutrally.
I glance at her, unable to tell if she's joking or not I merely clap a hand on
her shoulder.
"Sure uh, anyway, thanks guys." I take a step away from them.
"Catch ya later."
I dash through the crowds back into another staff corridor. Sure enough, I turn
the corner and there at the end is a fully lit and open janitor's closet. I
stroll up to it, hands in pockets, as I take in the cursing back of my favorite
linguist. I lean in the open doorway amused as he hops about trying to remove a
small bucket from the end of his foot.
"Shit! Damn this thing...mother...." I listen to his obscenities with
a small smile. Finally he manages to pry the bucket away and throw it over to
the left causing a load of brooms to domino. "For crying out loud." I
grin as I recognize my favorite line; guess I'm starting to rub off on the
boy...in more ways than one.
He bends down, giving me a wonderful view of his wonderful behind, as he tries
to dislodge the top broom with more curses and little success.
Quietly, I close the door, relieved that he's too caught up in arguing with the
broom to hear the gentle click and I take another step forward.
"Damn it; why won't you just co operate with me?"
I know he's a linguist but I think him believing he can communicate with a
broom handle is a little far fetched.
"Please?"
Okay, now he's trying to bargain with it.
"Come on," he mutters. "I'll buy you a new bucket if you just
get up."
And now he's resorting to blackmail. I shake my head fondly; only Daniel. As a
pilot I get to pick up new phrases here and there and as a linguist Daniel
loves to hear them. I have lots stored up for the right occasion.
"Broom giving you some stick?"
He jumps back, startled, whacking his shoulder into a poorly balanced pile of
toilet roll. I grimace as in slow motion as the toilet roll avalanche slowly
consumes my linguist. Opps, guess he thought he was having a private
conversation with his wood...time I introduced him to mine.
I walk over to him quickly, trying desperately not to laugh as I help unbury
him from the economy issued sandpaper. Giving him a helpful tug his embarrassed
face ends up inches from my own smug one. My arms quickly wrap around his
waist, holding him to me.
"Having trouble?" I whisper, resting my
forehead against his.
He smiles and gently shakes his head, taking mine with him.
"Not anymore," he smiles, his blue eyes shining, locking onto mine as
his own arms trap me. "So..." he whispers, his breathe tickling my
lips. "When did you get back?"
"Oh," I smile back; an automatic response to his own grin.
"About the same time you decided to explore this closet."
"That long?" He laughs before leaning forward and claiming my lips.
It's a slow, warm kiss, a welcome home and I love you kinda kiss.
"What're you doing in here?" I ask as we come up for air. I decide to
explore that irresistible bare neck,
very grateful for the airport's broken air conditioning.
"Uh...stained my office."
I laugh into his skin. "Dirty boy."
"Ja-ck," he protests, his hands exploring my back through my thin
shirt. "I was talking about coffee
stains. You have a one track mind."
"Do not." I think about food and sleeping...occasionally.
"Do too," he argues. "I've worked here for nearly six years and
*never* thought twice about the word 'cockpit' until you corrupted me."
I chuckle. I'll never forget the look on his face when I suggested it to him;
he's never forgiven me. Every time someone mentions the word now he blushes
then curses my good name...before hunting me down and making me pay. Oh and
what a price.
"Makes them more interesting though doesn't it?" I kid, teasing his
pulse point. "And on that note, guess what my next question's gonna
be."
He laughs, a rich sound that never fails to warm my soul.
"In here?" Despite his disbelieving look, his eager fingers burrow
underneath my shirt and find my skin, burning it.
"Well," I lift my head from his neck and pretend to look around our
surroundings. "It hasn't got that big desk like your office..."
"Or the sofa..." he adds, tracing my spine.
"But..." I wiggle my eyebrows suggestively, "there's no security
camera."
"And how do you know that?" he challenges.
"Daniel, I've worked here for almost thirteen years."
He shakes his head good naturedly. "So why haven't we done it in here
before?"
"Because," I repeat, "your office has a large desk and a comfy
sofa."
He laughs; a sound I swallow as I kiss him again, and again. I explore the warm
cavern of his mouth, dueling with his playful tongue. Man, I could do this for
hours. His hands roam my back, skin on skin, branding me as his as I back him
towards the closed door; only flat surface not taken up by cleaning equipment.
My tongue plunges into his mouth, my hands clutching his head in place as I
feel his leg wrapping around mine, pulling me closer.
"Miss me?" I pant, planting nipping kisses along his tanned jaw.
"You've been away?"
I wipe the innocent look from his face by cupping a certain part of his
anatomy. He lets out a quiet 'oh' as his eyes slam shut. Chuckling, I lean down
for another kiss, this time letting him take the lead. His tongue visits all
the sensitive parts of my mouth, his hands finding my butt cheeks, pulling our
groins together. Love this.
"Shirt," he pants.
His graceful fingers help my clumsy ones remove my tie and undo the buttons of
my crisp shirt. He tugs it down, trapping my hands and grinning predatorily he
leans down kissing me again, maneuvering us so that I’m pressed against the
door. He goes straight for my neck, latching onto it before his lips trail down
my collar bone.
"Daniel," I gasp as his nose nuzzles into hair on my chest before his
lips find and torment a nipple...
Suddenly I'm being hugged from behind, a kiss getting planted on my neck and
hands playing with my fully clothed chest. Huh?
"Miss me?"
My head whips round to confirm I'm in the embrace of my archaeologist, in the
privacy of my own living room. I blink.
"Uh...how was the meeting?" I relax against him, my head on his
shoulder as his chin rests on my opposite shoulder.
"Boring." He grins against my skin, his eyes resting on the mountain
of paper planes. "Guess you were just as bored."
"I don't know." I grin, my hands coming to clasp his, letting them
rest against my chest. "I had a great daydream."
"Feel like sharing?" he asks, placing a featherlike kiss against my
pulse-point causing me to shiver.
"We worked at an airport." I close my eyes picturing it again.
"You were their best translator and I was a pilot."
"You got to wear a pilot's uniform?" He lifts his head slightly,
suddenly very interested.
"Yep, and you seemed to be having a great time removing it."
His chin disappears and a second later he's in my line of sight, tugging me up.
Smiling, he pulls me forward for a quick kiss before pulling away. Keeping our
hands clasped and our eyes locked, he starts walking backwards, hopefully
towards the bedroom. We start up the stairs, his eyes sparkling mischievously.
"I'm guessing that should be added to your fantasy list." His
eyebrows rise seductively. Mama.
"Yeahsureyabetcha." I grin following him eagerly as he races up the
remaining stairs and towards the bedroom door...yep, I think he's gonna make me
fly so high I'll be seeing the stars.
I love my life, I love my list, and I sure as hell love my linguist.
********
End
Beth_supersaint@yahoo.com