Title: Are You Thinking About Me?
Author: Wonderland
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em, wish I did, you know who does, yadda, yadda, yadda
Summary: Daniel is thinking about Jack.
Season/Spoiler info: none
Author's notes: This isn’t slash, although there is one forehead kiss.

Are You Thinking About Me?

“Are you thinking about me?” Daniel glanced at the latest best-seller spread open on his desk, leaned back with a back-popping stretch.

“Absolutely.”

“See, I knew you missed me, I just knew it.” He felt the warmth of Jack’s grin through the miles.

“It must be wonderful to be right so often.” Daniel carefully tucked in the laminated strip of paper he was currently using as a bookmark and rose to wander to the kitchen, making a beeline for the coffeemaker.

“I hope you’re not thinking about making another pot of coffee? It’s too late; you won’t get a wink of sleep.”

Daniel’s hand froze, carafe in hand, and automatically glanced over his shoulder, almost certain he’d find a certain general scowling behind him. “What makes you think I’m getting coffee?”

“Your office has hardwood floors, the hall is carpeted and the kitchen is back to hardwood. I listen really, really good.”

“I’d love to hear General Hammond’s opinion on that.” With real regret, Daniel replaced the coffeepot and opened the refrigerator, frowning. Hadn’t he had part of a bottle of…yes, there it was. He fumbled for a corkscrew.

“So you’re gonna drink wine instead?”

“When did you become the amazing Kreskin?” Daniel shoved the drawer closed with his hip and proceeded to uncork a bottle of very good, crisp white.

“There are only a few things in that drawer you’d be hunting for. I took a guess.”

“So what am I having for dinner?” Daniel snagged a glass and the bottle before strolling out onto his back deck; he could take a few minutes to talk to Jack.

“Nothing, sounds to me like. So, what’s the latest on the stand down?”

Neither of them was fooled by the casual question. Daniel flopped down in the lounge chair, pulled the back up into a more upright position, poured himself a glass, took a drink and set the bottle down before answering. “Still right on schedule. Hard to imagine, shutting the mountain down for a month.”

“Daniel, that place is long overdue for rewiring and new computers and stuff. And it gives Carter a chance to add all the little extras she’s been demanding for years.”

“I suppose, it just seems strange that I won’t be able to go in for a whole month.”

“You’ll get used to it, I know I have. We still on, then?”

“Think so. I’m flying out late Sunday night, barring unforeseen emergencies. I should be at the cabin by one, maybe two in the morning on Monday.”

“Tell Mitchell I said that you’d better get a good night’s sleep on Saturday.” Jack groused. “You know how I feel about you driving alone that time of night.”

“Jack, how old am I?”

“Twelve,” he replied immediately. “I’ve been assured that I’ll be there on Monday morning. Or else…”

“Sounds ominous.”

“I don’t make threats, I carry them out. So we’ve got seven whole days of fishing and canoeing and fishing and hiking, did I mention the fishing?”

“A couple of times,” Daniel took a satisfying sip, wondering what were the chances of finding a decent liquor store near Jack’s cabin.

“No one else wanted to come with?” Jack’s voice held just the slightest edge.

“No. Teal’c’s gonna play grunt with the Marines at a super secret location. You know what Sam’ll be doing. I think Mitchell’s going to be visiting family and friends somewhere in corn and wheat country. Vala, I’m not sure, maybe going with Teal’c.”

Jack snorted. “Heaven help the jarheads. Get something to eat, I gotta go. See ya Monday.”

*

“Are you thinking about me?”

To Daniel’s credit, he didn’t even flinch from his relaxed position on the deck chair. “Every day, in every way.” He slowly slid the sunglasses down his nose, took a long look, then slid them back, closed his eyes. “I didn’t hear you pull up, you been here long?”

“Few minutes. You look like you needed the rest.” Daniel felt the butterfly kiss on his forehead.

“Mmm, Mitchell…” Belatedly, Daniel clamped his mouth together.

“Mitchell did what?” Jack slid his own sunglasses on and slumped comfortably in his chair.

“He miscalculated the nights on 727 and I had to pull a longer watch than I intended to.”

“How long?” Jack’s voice was even but Daniel still gave him a quick glance.

“I’m here safe and sound and that’s all that really matters, right?”

“They got phones in corn country, right?” The casual tone didn’t fool either man.

“Six hours,” Daniel reluctantly admitted.

“So you pulled a six hour watch, made nice with the natives, gated back home, wrote your mission report, finished packing, flew to Minnesota and drove most of the night? Which means you haven’t actually gotten a full night’s sleep since, what, Friday?”

“I’ll sleep tonight,” Daniel promised lethargically. Just hearing his schedule recited was enough to exhaust him.

“You’re damned right you will. Why don’t you go in and…?”

Daniel blinked slowly; Jack’s voice was softly hypnotic. “Jack, if I sleep now, I’ll never get to sleep tonight.”

“Yeah, you will.” Daniel felt himself sliding over the edge.

*

“Are you thinking about me?”

Daniel looked around the nearly empty room that was formerly known as his office. “You know the answer; I don’t know why you keep asking.”

“I just like to have my ego stroked.” Jack swung the chair around and straddled it.

“Just your ego?” Daniel smirked.

“Yeah, well, right now I’m more interested in you.”

“And my ego?”

“No. What I’d like to know is what the hell you think you’re doing?”

Daniel sighed, knowing the question was a legitimate one. He sat heavily in his chair, rolling it around until he was nearly knee to knee with Jack. “This isn’t about not wanting to do this without you.” Jack’s steady gaze never wavered. “Okay, it’s not just about me not wanting to do this without you. It’s about me not being able to do this without you.”

“Daniel, in the grand scheme of things…”

“I get that!” Daniel interrupted impatiently. “You’re just one man, replaceable, make colonels like you every day. I’ve heard it all before. But you know what? You lied. They don’t make colonels like you every day. Who knew?”

“You did. But then, you always knew.” Jack countered quietly. “Where are you going?”

“New York. Big cosmic joke, right? I’ve got an offer as a curator of a museum in New York. Not the New York Museum of Art; that would be too weird for words. But it’s nice, pays pretty well, not that that’s much of a consideration.”

“I just want you to be happy, Daniel.”

Daniel tried to smile, but it never quite made it to his face. “I know that, Jack. This,” he waved his hand around the echoing room, “I just…I just can’t do it anymore. I have to do this, Jack. I think…I think it will make me happy.”

Jack stood slowly. “Okay, that’s good enough for me.”

*

Am I thinking about him? The truth is, not a day goes by that I don’t think about him, don’t play the what-if game in my mind. But it always ends differently in my version of the truth, which may be why I’ve decided to stop playing.

“Dr. Jackson? Can you come to the fourth floor please?” The voice emanated from the walkie talkie on his desk. Daniel pushed himself to his feet, left his journal on the desk, fluttering in the breeze from the slowly turning ceiling fan. As he closed the door behind him, a laminated strip of paper fell from the book and drifted onto the floor.

O’Neill, General Jonathan ‘Jack’, 52, Colorado Springs, Colorado, was laid to rest today in Arlington National Cemetery with full military honors. The eulogy was given by teammate and long-time friend Dr. Daniel Jackson…