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"When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that's amoooooooore!"

"Jack, stop howling," Daniel said patiently as the man at his side stumbled.

Once again Daniel's firm grasp around Jack's waist was the only thing that kept the highly trained special ops colonel from eating dirt. Daniel swore softly to himself. It was like trying to maneuver a 6-2, 185 pound spaghetti noodle. Cooked al dente.

"Not howling," Jack said indignantly. "Singing."

In Daniel's opinion the noise Jack was producing could only be considered singing by the barest and most technical of margins. It was just Daniel's luck that Jack had gotten himself pickled on one of the occasions that he had also insisted on separating the team. Jack had decided that only he and Daniel would attend the feast because Jack didn't trust the Elder as far as he could throw him. This was nothing new. Jack getting pickled off world, on the other hand, was.

"Dah da da da…. What are the rest of the words?" Jack asked.

"I have no idea," Daniel muttered.

"Daniel?" Sam emerged from the darkness surrounding their campsite and stared hard at Jack.

Teal'c approached silently from the other side. Daniel just nodded at both of them and kept moving.

"When da dah da…," Jack sang, waving expansively at Sam and Teal'c. "That's amooooore!"

"It would appear O'Neill has been adversely affected by something at the feast," Teal'c said circumspectly.

"He's had a bit to drink," Sam said diplomatically.

"He's shit-faced," Daniel said as he continued to maneuver Jack in the direction of the camp.

"So the local hooch is pretty potent?" Sam asked.

"Awesome," Jack exclaimed, waving wildly in Sam's direction and nearly pulling Daniel off balance.

"Let me put it this way: one little sniff cleared sinuses that haven't been open since 1989," Daniel said dryly. "And since Jack had already tossed back half a cup, I just said no. Figured one of us should be sober."

"That's amore," Jack sang, nodding and drunkenly patting Daniel on the cheek.

Daniel calmly removed Jack's hand from his ass and replaced it around his shoulder.

"Do you require assistance, Daniel Jackson?"

"No, we've kind of got this balance thing going now," Daniel said, leaning in one direction as Jack swayed in another. "But…stand by. Just in case."

"Just how much did he drink?" Sam asked.

"Well…that's the thing. This particular beverage is sort of special," Daniel explained. "It's not something the natives drink all the time because it's intended to not only lower a person's inhibitions but to actually provide him or her with a sort of catharsis."

"Catharsis?" Sam said taking a precautionary step back.

"Pfftt, yeah. People cathartin' all over the place," Jack drawled. "Hey—you ought to try it, Carter."

"And the colonel drank this stuff willingly?" Sam asked, glaring at the colonel in question.

"Well, as usual, Jack wasn't listening to me so he never heard my warning," Daniel said.

"Isn't he just the cutest little thing when he's pissy?" Jack asked, slapping Daniel on the cheek.

Daniel gave an exasperated sigh and once more removed Jack's hand from his ass, pointedly planting it back on his shoulder.

"Oh, boy," Sam muttered.

Teal'c also decided it would be prudent to step away from O'Neill. And Daniel.

"And the colonel's 'catharsis' involves singing corny old love songs?" Sam asked.

"Seems a waste, doesn't it?" Daniel agreed.

Jack raised his hand from Daniel's shoulder and Daniel immediately slapped his hand down on his ass in a protective move. Jack grinned smugly as he simply ruffled Daniel's hair and then dropped his hand back to Daniel's shoulder.

"Five sheets into the wind and I can still fake you out."

"I thought the expression was three sheets into the wind," Teal'c said.

"Yeah, well, you've obviously never had this stuff," Jack said. "When the moon hits your eyyyyyyyyyyyyyeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…."

"Let's just get him into bed," Daniel begged quietly.

It took a few more moments of tedious maneuvering to get Jack to the tent. Sam quickly undid the flap and held it aside so that Daniel could manhandle Jack inside. Jack's singing was interrupted by a surprised snort when Daniel dumped him on his bedroll.

"O'Neill will not sing all night," Teal'c said, peering in through the tent opening.

"God, I hope not," Daniel said fervently.

"You misunderstand me, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said ominously. "I said—he will not sing all night."

"Oh." Daniel looked up at Teal'c with a startled expression.

"Party pooper," Jack called as he struggled to sit up.

Daniel gave him a distracted shove, knocking him back down to the ground.

"I'll just get him settled in. I'm sure he'll pass out in a minute," Daniel said.

"See that he does," Teal'c said sternly.

"He's never going to live this down," Sam said with an evil grin.

"Um…no," Daniel said.

Sam gave him a questioning look.

"First of all—he won't remember anything. And everyone else is supposed to pretend it never happened. It's all part of the experience. The person can…express whatever it is they need to express and the next morning life goes on as usual."

"What kind of catharsis is that?" Sam asked incredulously. "What's the point of exposing some big, dark secret if you're just going to bury it again? Wouldn't it make more sense to deal with it?"

"Um…well…," Daniel equivocated.

"It's a guy thing," Jack called up confidently.

Daniel and Sam both stared down at Jack, smiling happily at their feet. Jack wiggled his fingers at them.

"That's…probably as good an explanation as any," Daniel admitted. "In any case, I think it would be best to do like the natives and 'forget' anything Jack does tonight."

"I believe that is a wise suggestion," Teal'c said. "Major Carter and I will go now so that we cannot be forced to listen to and therefore forget any more catharsis from O'Neill."

"What he said," Sam snickered as she drew the tent flaps closed behind her.

"Daniel," Jack sang.

"Yes, Jack," Daniel said as he removed Jack's boots.

"I'm gonna be, like, way sorry in the morning, aren't I?"

"I'd say that's highly likely," Daniel agreed.

He attempted to still one flailing arm long enough to remove it from the jacket sleeve.

"Come here you," Jack growled, reaching up pulling Daniel down on him.

Daniel let out a startled "oof" as he suddenly found himself lying chest to chest on top of Jack. Jack grinned and slid his hand down to recapture Daniel's ass.

"Jack," Daniel warned as he firmly relocated Jack's prowling hand. Which only allowed Jack's other hand to sneak down.

Daniel reached behind him and caught that hand, too, only to realize that his current position had him grinding his pelvis against Jack's. Daniel discovered that there was some sneaky maneuvering going on down there, too. At least on Jack's part.

"Jack," Daniel said with exasperation as he finally managed to disentangle himself from the inebriated octopus trying to unbutton his fatigues. "Jack, stop or you really will be sorry in the morning."

"Nope," Jack said confidently. "Regret the hangover—definitely. Fucking you—not a problem."

Daniel sat back on his heels, stunned.

"How many fingers am I holding up," Daniel asked, trying to gauge Jack's current level of intoxication.

"Seven," Jack said, squinting mightily.

"I'm only holding up one hand."

"Yeah? So what's your point?"

"My point is that you should just proceed directly to passing out," Daniel said sharply. "Do not pass go, do not collect the archaeologist's ass."

"Awww," Jack complained.

Daniel reached over to grab the edge of the sleeping bag, hoping that if he could restrain Jack by zipping him up inside the bag he would finally go to sleep. Jack had other ideas.

"Jack!" Daniel yelped as Jack grabbed his crotch.

Jack obviously still had a fair amount of motor control because he was gripping firmly but carefully. Daniel shivered. He was only human after all and it had been a long time since his cock had been touched by any hand other than his own. Daniel, bridging Jack's torso on his hands and knees, shivered again as Jack began to move his hand.

"Jack, please—stop. Just go to sleep."

Jack began to slowly unbutton Daniel's pants.

"Jack. Sleep. Now," Daniel repeated desperately.

"Want me to sleep?" Jack asked.

Daniel forced himself to nod although he did nothing to stop Jack's hands from invading his clothing.

"Well, I'll sleep better if I have a 'pacifier' to suck on."

"Oh, my God!" Daniel gasped.

The image Jack's words conjured up fried his mental circuits just as Jack's rough hand wrapped around his cock.

"That's absolutely the filthiest thing you've ever…Jack, please…oh, yessss. I mean—no! No, God, Jack—stop. You'll hate yourself in the morning. You'll hate me."

"Never," Jack said confidently as he eagerly pushed Daniel's pants and boxers off of his ass with one hand as the other continued to torment his cock.

Jack stilled his hand, just rubbing his thumb teasingly across the head and grinning as the touch provoked a hiss from Daniel.

"Daniel, do you want this?"

"Noooo…," Daniel ground out between clenched teeth.

"You don't want me?" Jack asked, sounding hurt.

"I want…," Daniel said, staring at Jack as he fought to keep from humping Jack's hand. "Yes, I want you. I've always wanted you."

"Well, there you go," Jack said happily.

"But not like this. You won't even remember this."

"Well, if I don't then you'll have to remind me," Jack suggested. "Use lots of visual aids. Hands-on demonstration."

"You're drunk," Daniel protested.

"Not drunk," Jack said deliberately. "Just…really, really relaxed."

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Daniel reminded him sharply.

"Just one big one." Jack grinned, tugging Daniel's cock.


"I'll start singing again," Jack threatened.

"Oh, God—anything but the singing."


"No! That's not what I meant, damn it."

Daniel gathered the last remaining shreds of his resistance. He attempted to peel Jack's fingers away from his cock without hurting either one of them.

"This isn't right. How would it make you feel if I got drunk and just grabbed you by the balls?"

Daniel moved his hand to Jack's still clothed crotch and planted it firmly on what—in Daniel's aroused state—felt like a baseball bat. Jack made a moan that seemed to come all the way from his toes as his dick spasmed under Daniel's hand.

"Um…oops. Sorry about that, Jack," Daniel said, an embarrassed flush coloring his cheeks.

He waited, eyes averted, for the inevitable pissy diatribe. After a long minute he was still waiting.


Daniel looked up as Jack's hand released its hold on Daniel. Jack was breathing deeply, his eyes closed and the hint of a smile on his face.

"Now?" Daniel yelped indignantly. "You pick now to pass out? Now before anything can happen?" Daniel sat down on his own bedroll with a frustrated sigh. "Right. Now—before anything can happen. Good idea, Jack."

Daniel gave Jack a light pat on the shoulder before flopping down on his back with a groan.

"Of course, it would've been really helpful if you'd passed out before we got this far," Daniel complained. "Now I gotta go see a man about a…."

Daniel looked over at Jack who lay dead to the world.

"Screw that," Daniel muttered. "You won't know the difference anyway and besides, it's all your fault." Daniel reached down and took himself firmly in hand. "But you are so going to owe me."

"What happened?"

Daniel glanced over at the newly awakened Jack with a deliberately mild expression.

"You got into the local hooch," Daniel reminded him, setting aside his notes for the moment. "How do you feel?"

Jack sat up slowly, a perplexed expression on his face.

"Good," he finally said. "Great, in fact."

"Really? No hangover?"

"Nope. Feel fine."

Jack scratched his scalp roughly with both hands. He looked around the tent apprehensively.

"So, um…what happened?"

"What do you remember?" Daniel asked cautiously.

"Not a thing after that elder started passing out the booze," Jack said. "Did you notice he looks a lot like Dean Martin?"

"Well, that would explain 'That's Amore'," Daniel muttered.

"What?" Jack asked.


"What did I do?" Jack asked with a scowl.


"No kidding?" Jack looked down at himself in shock. "I didn't get any on you, did I?"

"Um…no," Daniel said with a bemused frown. "It was more or less a self contained cathart."

"Oh. Good."

Jack looked around the tent again with a distracted air before looking back at Daniel.

"I don't even want to know what you're talking about, do I?"

"Probably not," Daniel agreed.

"Is this going to come back and bite me in the ass?" Jack asked.

"No," Daniel said after a momentary hesitation. "No, it…nothing happened."

"Oh," Jack said, looking uncertain.

Daniel just shrugged and returned to writing his notes.

"Well, okay then. Um…I'm just gonna go clean up."

"Okay," Daniel said without looking up. "There's still some coffee left in the pot for you."


Jack paused at the tent flap. He was clearly puzzled by the apparent non-reaction to his own carelessness in getting drunk the previous night.

"And…nothing happened, right?"

Daniel just nodded again. Still looking somewhat doubtful, Jack finally crawled out of the tent. Daniel sighed and looked up at the tent flap, still swaying gently in the wake of Jack's departure.

"Nothing happened, Daniel," he told himself sternly as he bent to his work again. "Nothing at all."

Disclaimer: The SGC and its employees are not the property of the author. And in this case, they're pretty damn happy about that. This story written purely for entertainment purposes and with no intent to infringe on the rights of others.

Part 2 - 'You're the Top'

Part 3 - 'Under My Skin'

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