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Roses are Blue...

Summary: This is Joy's fault - she set the FDAS challenge. So she had to beta it *g*

Roses are blue
Violets are red
Forget all this nonsense
and just give me some head.


Daniel couldn't believe it, but there were flowers in his home. And not just any old flowers, either. Orchids, roses, freesias...

Very pretty, but they made him sneeze.

Another sneeze reminded him to go get some antihistamines.

Drinking some water to wash them down, he sighed. Valentine's fever had hit the SGC yet again. He thought back to that morning. On his desk he had found one red rose, three boxes of handmade chocolate walnut cookies, five boxes which contained silk boxers (including one pair which most definitely didn't come from the female members of staff), two boxes of cheaper chocolates, four boxes of the more expensive ones and twenty-six cards. Some of which included photographs of the senders in various stages of undress. He had no idea that Airman James McCaulley was so well-built.

Not that he really minded. He just wandered around the SGC, smiling at those he knew had sent the gifts (and at a few he suspected of it) and trying to look otherwise oblivious. The only downside was that he knew he'd have to share the cookies and chocolates or face an eruption of acne worthy of an unwashed teen.

The trouble was, Daniel wasn't romantic. At all. Never had been. Valentine's Day, to him, ranked up there with Christmas for overblown, once religious, overly commercial, pseudo-traditional, overly expensive crap. The idea that there was some sort of traditional basis for all of this nonsense really grated. He blamed the Victorians. He blamed them for a lot of things, so their messing with genuine tradition should have come as no surprise to him.

The bigger problem was that his most beloved partner, the second half of his soul, the light of his life - and the continued bane of his existence - was the world's biggest sap. The only known living organism with a larger sap count was the California Redwood - in springtime. Any excuse to spoil Daniel was used. Even non-excuses. Recovery from injury, 'phew, that was a near miss', poignant anniversaries that Daniel would really rather forget, Saturdays...

He figured he should be grateful. After all, wasn't it wonderful that he had such a loving, attentive SO? Wasn't it what everyone else desired? To be the centre of someone else's universe? He tried to be grateful. He really did. Unexpected gifts were met with hugs, smiles, kisses... Sweet words were not rebuffed by the roll of his eyes or 'shut up' as he really wanted to say. But by not putting a stop to it at the beginning, Daniel had inadvertently encouraged more.

It was time to put an end to it.

"Knock, knock."

"Come on in, Jack. Dinner's nearly ready."

Jack walked into Daniel's home like a man on a mission. Straight to the kitchen, where he stopped dead.

The table was laid. Not only was it laid, it was laid with Daniel's very best and most expensive china. Cut crystal glasses awaited the bottle of chilled champagne that sat in an ice bucket. Candles were lit. And there was cutlery. Lots of it. More than one course was prepared. More than three courses, possibly. He rapidly ran the short course in dining etiquette (that his mother had put him through when he'd become an officer) through his head and remembered that he'd have to start on the outside and work his way to the centre - cutlery-wise, that was.

"Take a seat, honey," Daniel said, dropping a kiss on Jack's cheek as he spoke. "It won't be long."


The word rattled through Jack's mind. Daniel never, but never said that. In fact, he rarely called Jack anything other than Jack. Or Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack! as it often came out. There were many ways in which 'Jack' could be said, it was true. There was the exasperated, short 'Jack!'; the furious "JACK"; the "Oh God, Jaaaaaaack," at the point of orgasm... Amazing how one word had so many meanings.


"You feeling all right, Daniel?"

"Sure. Why wouldn't I?"

"Oh, um, nothing. This," he quickly changed the subject, "looks interesting. What are we going to have?"

"Well, you'll have to wait and see, but I hope you're hungry."

"Sure am. It's been hours since I ate."

"Great! Okay, first course." He moved to the side and Jack heard Daniel humming as he dished up the food. A few moments later and Daniel put his plate down with a flourish. As Jack stared at the plate, Daniel said, "Seared salmon steak on a bed of potato mashed with shredded leeks and plenty of melted butter; a very small garnish of Dublin Bay prawns and side salad, with a lemon sauce. Dig in!"

Without another word, Daniel started to eat. Needless to say, the man in Jack had more to say than his curiosity at this point, so he, too, ate. After his first bite of the thin, but perfectly cooked salmon steak, he looked up to let Daniel know how good he thought it was.

And was very surprised to see a shy, even coy Daniel, looking up over his glasses, his head tilted down.

"Is it okay?" Daniel asked.

"Delicious. Incredible. The fish is melting in my mouth."

"Good. Well, you'd better eat it before it goes cold."

Daniel ducked his head straight back down and continued to eat his own meal. Confused, Jack ate his own a little more thoughtfully.

The second course was soup. Not any old soup. A lobster bisque.

"Do you like it, love?" Daniel asked as Jack started on this course.

A befuddled squeak found its way out of Jack's mouth as he tried to reply. In the end, he settled for a nod.

When that dish was finished, Daniel cleared the dishes up, popped them in the dishwasher, turned demurely back to Jack, kissed his nose and said, "Ready for your next course, baby?"

"Yeah, sure. Um, Daniel? Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine. Why are you asking?"

"You're behaving a bit... er... strange."

"I am? In what way?"

"Well, you're... romantic."

"It is Valentine's Day, Jack. How else am I supposed to behave?"

Jack opened and shut his mouth, unable to answer. Daniel, meanwhile, had turned back to the stove and was finishing off the main course.

A short while later, and Jack was eating a fillet steak on a bed of spinach, with rosemary roast potatoes, purple broccoli, baby root vegetables, whole roast garlic and shallots, with a rich red wine jus.

He still wasn't sure what Daniel was up to, but whatever it was, the outcome was delicious.

His stomach was starting to moan when the dark chocolate and pecan brownie with chocolate orange sauce and a Grand Marnier sorbet was placed in front of him, Daniel blowing him a kiss as he sat opposite. However, he manfully told his stomach to shut the fuck up and his taste buds orgasmed.

Laying on the sofa later on, Jack found himself watching one of his favourite films as Daniel sat on the far end of the sofa, massaging Jack's feet. Now Jack was more than confused. He was scared.

But the massage was so nice that he let out a groan of pleasure.


"Isssnice," he slurred.

"Good. I'm glad. Have you had a nice evening?"

"W'nd'rf'l," Jack answered, suddenly incapable of pronouncing vowels without descending into a long, drawn out moan.

A cautious move from Daniel had Jack looking directly at him, and discovering that Daniel seemed to be shyly shifting his hand slightly up Jack's leg.

"Daniel, if you wanna make out, why don't you say something?"

Daniel's hand snatched back as if he'd been burned.

"Um, no, it's okay, sweetheart. You watch the movie."

Jack turned back to watch the TV, then his head did a double take so fast he damn near got whiplash.

"Right. That's it. Who are you? And what have you done with my Daniel?"

"Jack, it's me. Honestly."

"Prove it."

"HOW? Do you want me to go and get a DNA test from Janet?"

"No, that would take too long. Show me that you haven't got one of those alien body changing device thingies."

"Jack, what the hell are you talking about? Of course it's me."

"You're acting oddly."


"Yes. Romantic. Thoughtful. You're saying... stuff you don't normally say and it's unnerving."

"Stuff? Such as...?"

"Honey. Sweetheart. Baby. Love... And that was just the stuff in English. I'm not sure what you were saying over dessert."

"It was an Ancient Egyptian love poem," Daniel sighed. "I thought you'd like it. You seem to like endearments."

"What on earth made you think that?"

"Um, the fact that a conversation can't go past without you inserting at least one?"

"Oh. Well, I'm not that sugary."

Daniel just smiled, a small, knowing smile, that made Jack cringe.

"And you don't usually push the boat out," he continued, thinking that going on the offensive might strengthen his hand. "I mean, you do cook, and you cook very well, but tonight's meal was something else. Not that I'm complainin' mind, that was damned good food. As good as anything I've ever had anywhere, anytime." He didn't think that a few compliments would hurt his cause, either.

"I'm glad you liked it, Jack," Daniel answered sweetly.

Jack smiled back at him, then Daniel said, "So, what's your problem?"

"My problem is, this is not you. You don't say stuff like that. You don't do romantic stuff. If you wanna fuck, you say, 'Jack, wanna fuck?'. You don't seduce me."

Daniel's face dropped. "I thought you'd like it," he said sadly. "You always do romantic things."

Jack stopped and thought and a small light went on.

"You don't do romantic, do you?" Jack whispered.

"I'm sorry," Daniel shrugged. "I feel awkward. I know you mean well, Jack, and I don't want to sound ungrateful or anything..."

"So you haven't said anything?"

Daniel shrugged again. "I know you enjoy the romantic side of a relationship, but I'm a guy, Jack. I'm a typical, average, unromantic guy. If you want to fuck me, just say it, please. Chances are, the answer's going to be 'yes' unless I'm really busy. Even then I'll think about it. I know you love me. I love you, too. I just don't need all of the other paraphernalia that goes with it. I'm sorry."

Jack smiled, stretched his hand out to reach Daniel's, pleased when Daniel held it.

"Don't be sorry. I'm sorry. I'd blame being in a long relationship with Sara, but she wasn't one for hearts and flowers, either. I guess I hoped..."

Daniel looked really miserable by this point.

"Hey, it's my fault, Danny. I know you're a guy. Believe me. I know."

"No, I shouldn't have reacted like this."

"Daniel, you've waited how many years to tell me? I'm not mad at you. I hope you're not mad at me?"

"NO! I couldn't be. Jack, I do appreciate the thought behind it, and the emotion. I'm just not really at ease with it."

Jack pulled Daniel towards him, until they were both lying down, nose to nose.

"This is romantic to me," Daniel whispered. "Just being together. Doing things, whether it's going out for a beer or watching TV, or even sitting quietly and reading."

"I get that, Daniel. Honestly I do. Um... would you mind if I do the odd romantic thing?"

"Depends on how odd, Jack. I mean, you do do some strange things from time to time."

Jack chuckled. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do. And sure. Just once in a while. When there's a reason to."

"Like birthdays?"


"And Christmas?"

"If you must."

"Valentine's Day?"

Daniel remained silent.

"Not Valentine's Day? Ah well. I promise to try. Forgive me if I slip up?"

"Nothing to forgive, Jack. Forgive me for being a romantic grinch?"

"Nothing to forgive, Daniel."

They lay quietly together for a moment, then Jack said, "Hey Daniel?"


"Wanna fuck?"