Rating: NC17, slash, Jack/Daniel. Humour, AU, First Time and Established Relationship.

Spoilers/Warnings: Small spoilers for The Gamekeeper and Crystal Skull. Warnings for bad language and sex.

Summary: The Legend of Daniel, Lord of the Space Monkeys.

Notes | Disclaimer

For the second morning straight, I awoke alone with the lingering memory of warmth and soft, sweet breath on my skin. I dressed quickly and made my way back to the campsite. Dawn was just breaking and my companions were still asleep with the exception of the ever-watchful Teal'c who nodded at me from his place next to the cooking fire. He offered me a cup of hot coffee that I gratefully accepted. Obviously, Dan'el had returned the pilfered coffee grinder to its rightful owner. And just as clearly I'd need to have a little chat with the little kleptomaniac before we returned to civilization. Although I understood the reasons for his pilfering-he was, after all, accustomed to scrounging to stay alive-such behavior probably wouldn't go over well in polite society. Unless, of course, he went into politics where it was pretty much expected. I sipped my coffee and glanced about the campsite once more. Still no sign of my little monkey but I was unconcerned. I knew he'd be back soon.

One by one the other members of the expedition began to wake up and make their way to the fire, drawn by the irresistible aroma of fresh brewed coffee. And suddenly he was there. I didn't need to turn around to know that Dan'el had returned and was even now moving towards me. How I knew he was there, I didn't know. Scent, perhaps, or maybe some sixth sense. Lord knows my libido could identify him at 100 paces in the pitch dark, so maybe it was some kind of lust-fuelled early warning system. I wasn't going to waste my energy trying to puzzle it out. It existed, whatever it was and I'd just accept it with good grace. And as many orgasms as I could muster.

I finally turned to look at him, a smile hovering at my lips that vanished just as quickly to be replaced with a look of near panic. Dan'el was standing there dragging a stalk of bananas behind him, a bright grin plastered across his handsome face.

Okay. Whatcha planning to do with those Dan'el boy?

Dan'el settled himself at my side near the fire, offering me a decidedly flirtatious grin followed by a banana. He then proceeded to offer bananas to every member of my party including the permanently dazed Davis who was smiling stupidly and batting his eyelashes at Dan'el. For a heart stopping moment, I was terrified that this gesture meant what it had the first time we'd met. I watched nervously as he tore a banana from the stalk, peeled away the skin and ate the fruit with relish. The rest of the party was also eating and making sounds of appreciation and then I understood this for what it really was: a simple gesture of friendship, nothing more. Alright, I admit it. I was being foolish and more than a touch insanely jealous, but really can you blame me? I was crazy about Dan'el and I just didn't want to share. And if Davis didn't stop ogling him right now, he would soon be meeting with a swift, but painful end, courtesy of one Jack O'Neill.

We made short work of the bananas and the coffee, Dan'el making positively orgasmic sounds as he drank his coffee. And yes, I certainly have a point of reference for those types of sounds. Breakfast consumed, we returned to our study of the ruins. I told Davis to go help Carter and Frasier map the site, while Teal'c kept watch of the perimeter and prepared the meals. And of course, Dan'el and I returned to translating the writing on the temple walls.

For the next several days we fell into a regular pattern. Every morning Daniel would bring us breakfast, usually bananas, but sometimes other types of fruit and berries before we would get to work, Dan'el and I translating and the rest of the party doing, well, other stuff, away from us. In the evening we'd eat together and compare notes on our progress, and then, when the camp settled off to sleep, Dan'el and I went to our haven behind the ruins and indulged in bouts of hot, sweaty, monkey love.

I was in heaven.

On the evening of the fifth day as we compared notes, it became evident that we had done as much as we could here without more manpower and equipment. Carter and Frasier had done a bang up job of mapping the site and collecting samples of the stone to take back with us for further study. For his part, Dan'el had managed to transcribe and translate the writing on the temple walls, well, at least what was left of it. There was little more we could hope to achieve here and it was decided that we would begin our return to civilization the following day.

Dan'el was subdued all evening, speaking very little and answering only minimally when queried. I began to worry. Perhaps he'd changed his mind? Maybe he didn't want to leave? I began to feel I tightness in my gut. I couldn't leave him here. There was no way I could walk out of here tomorrow without Dan'el at my side. I kept my silence through dinner and the conversation that ensued. This was a private matter between Dan'el and myself and we would talk later, after the others were asleep.

As we'd done on the four previous nights, Dan'el and I made our way to our refuge beyond the ruins. No sooner had we arrived than Dan'el pulled me in for a desperate, aching kiss. I responded in kind, trying to communicate all that I felt for him in that embrace: affection, tenderness, and most of all, love.

When we parted, I cradled his beautiful face in my hands, running my thumbs across his cheekbones. "Dan'el, you haven't changed your mind about coming with me, have you?" I kept my voice even, hoping that he couldn't hear the desperation and the fear behind the question.

He shook his head. "No, Jack. Me go with you. But..."

"Yes?" I prompted.

He lowered his head and let out a soft sigh. "This, my home for long, long time," he explained, sweeping his arm to indicate not only the ruins nearby, but the jungle surrounding us. "Me...I..." he corrected himself, "...will miss this."

I gave him a warm smile. "I understand, Dan'el. It's okay to feel sad and even a little scared. There's nothing wrong with that. This is a big change. But I promise, if you're not happy, I'll bring you back here."

I made the offer without even thinking. It wasn't planned and I certainly hadn't considered the implications. But as soon as I said it, I knew it was true. I wanted Dan'el to be happy, and if that meant returning him the jungle, well, so be it.

Dan'el's gaze was hopeful and I saw a world of affection reflected in his eyes. "Promise?" he asked, his voice slightly tremulous.

I leaned in a placed a soft kiss on his forehead. "I promise Dan'el."

Those were the last words we spoke that night.

There was a rather bittersweet mood that permeated our routine the following morning. Whether the other members of the expedition were reluctant to leave or if they were simply responding to Dan'el's own melancholy, I didn't know. Breakfast was eaten in silence and then we began the process of breaking down the camp and packing up our equipment. I watched as Dan'el moved to the center of the ruins. I had a sudden urge to follow, but something told me to stay back. Suddenly he let out a yell, a deep, warbling sound that echoed through the jungle making all of us jump. He repeated the sound a second time and then a third, before settling down on his haunches, waiting.

"Sir?" Carter asked, her voice soft and a bit wary.

I shook my head, understanding what she was asking. "I think this is something he needs to do alone. Keep packing up. We'll leave when he's done." 'Whatever it was he was doing,' I added silently.

She nodded and returned to her work. A decidedly anticipatory atmosphere enveloped us all. We went about our preparations for departure with one eye on the man who remained unmoving as a statue in the middle of the ruins, waiting for something, anything, to happen.

And then there was a sound. It was soft and distant and vaguely diffuse but as it came closer we realized it was coming from all around us and getting louder as it progressed. I cast a glance at my companions. I could see the unease in their expressions, hands reaching towards the butts of their weapons, prepared to defend themselves and each other if necessary. But that strange sense of calm was washing over me once more. I knew we were safe. So I waited and watched.

And then they appeared.

Monkeys.

At first there were just a few, then a dozen, then a few dozen and before long there must have been a couple of hundred of them, moving towards the ruins and towards Dan'el. Dan'el remained as still as before, resting on his haunches, he body leaning slightly forward, his weight resting on his arms, his fists supporting them. The monkeys continued to move until they were just a few feet away and then they stopped.

The jungle was silent once more, eerily so, the mood of expectation seeming to stretch outwards like a net, capturing and stilling everything within it. Finally one monkey came forward and squatted down directly in front of Dan'el. It chattered something at him, a high squeaking sound that sounded inquisitive. There was silence and then Dan'el responded in the same chittering tones. The monkey spoke again and Dan'el responded and then suddenly all of the monkeys were chittering, amongst themselves and then at Dan'el who answered them in kind. What they were saying, for there could be no doubt they were communicating, I didn't know, but I could make a guess. Dan'el was saying goodbye to the monkeys that had raised him, had fed him, who had become his family after the death of his own

And then there was another sound. A sneeze. Well, almost. It came from one of the monkeys, but it was such a strangely human sound, I couldn't help but smile, nor could Dan'el. Suddenly the jungle was filled with a chorus of sneezes and then the monkeys were moving towards Dan'el. They reached out and touched him, their gestures a little inquisitive but clearly tender as well. A fleeting touch on his arm, or his shoulder or his silken hair. They stayed there for a long time surrounding him, almost like an embrace before moving away. One monkey remained, and I recognized it as the one that had come forward before. It reached up and gently touched his forehead, as if in benediction, before it too moved away and returned to the depths of the jungle.

Dan'el remained there squatting on the ground for several moments before standing at last and making his way towards me. There were unshed tears glittering in his eyes but he was smiling as well.

"We go now. Me...I...ready."

Without a word, I pulled him into a warm embrace. I felt him draw a shuddering breath and then I knew it was time. I released him and then turned to my companions. I wasn't surprised at all to see tears shining in their eyes as well. They weren't the only ones.

"Well, kids, you heard the man. Its time to go home."

The trek out of the jungle proved to be faster and less fraught with danger than the trek in. Between Teal'c's machete and Dan'el's thorough knowledge of the jungle, we were able to avoid the pitfalls we had unwittingly stumbled upon before. Well, most of them, anyway.

Maybe I shouldn't have been so cavalier about the whole situation, ya know? I mean, sure I didn't really like the guy and okay, he really ticked me off the way he kept drooling all over Dan'el like that. But I wasn't really serious when I said I hoped he'd fall off a high cliff. Well, not completely serious, anyway. But I'm going on record right here, right now, to say that this was not my fault. In point of fact, I specifically warned him about this.

"Oh, fer cryin' out loud, Davis! Stop ogling Dan'el and pay attention to where you're goin' before you fall off a cliff, or somethin'!"

Whoops.

It's actually kind of funny how it all played out, well, except for the falling off the cliff part at the end. We were making our way along a narrowish path. Teal'c and his machete in the lead followed by Frasier, Dan'el, myself, Carter and Davis bringing up the rear, an appropriate place, if ya ask me. Suddenly, I heard a cry behind me. It was Carter. She'd stumbled on the uneven ground and twisted her ankle. I called a halt while the Doc checked her out. Fortunately, she hadn't done any damage but she was a little wobbly on her feet, so being a good expedition leader, I slung her arm across my shoulder and helped her along. Since we were moving kinda slow we took the rear position which meant that Davis was now directly behind Dan'el getting an eyeful of his rear position.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to know that Davis' eyes weren't on the trail. I know from personal experience how hard it is the keep your eyes front when Dan'el's pert ass is swaying in all its bronzed, buffed glory right in front of you. But still, you'd think the guy woulda known to be a little more careful traveling on tricky terrain, especially after I'd chewed him out.

Nope, I guess not.

One minute we're all hiking along, or hobbling along in the case of Carter and myself, the next Davis is taking a header off the cliff. It's the darnedest thing since I would have thought he'd have just kept following the direction of Dan'el's ass. Instead Dan'el's ass went left. Davis's eyes stayed left, but his body kept going straight ahead. Well, before going straight down. I can only assume that he was in an extreme lust induced fog which deprived him of the ability to tell right from wrong, left from right and solid ground from thin air.

We all rushed to the edge of the cliff, but we knew there was nothing to do. It was a sheer drop and it went down and kept going down. Hell, we couldn't even see the bottom from where we were. We all looked at one another, exchanging silent, bewildered glances. Finally, it was Frasier who broke the silence.

"And then there were five." She rose to her feet, dusting off the knees of her trousers before standing up straight. "Well, on the upside, this'll save you the cost of an extra passage, sir."

"Janet!" Carter said, clearly shocked at the Doc's casual assessment.

Frasier shrugged her shoulders. "Aw, c'mon Sam. You never liked the guy."

"Well, no."

"And you did say he was pretty much a waste of rations."

"Well, yes."

"And didn't you tell me you caught him trying on your underwear?"

I did a double take at that revelation. Huh. I'd had no idea.

Carter seemed to take that last remark under advisement. "You know, Janet, you're absolutely right. It's probably better this way."

See, now that's the spirit!

That night we set up camp near a stream. Unfortunately, I found myself confronted with the one downside of Davis' absence: I was back on latrine duty. Somehow Carter and Frasier were busy, busy, busy whenever that task was on the offing and Teal'c, well he'd just give me the eyebrow and I'd be toast. And as for Dan'el, well, that would just be taking advantage. Plus I didn't really relish having to explain to him the purpose of a latrine. I think it's always a good rule of thumb to avoid talking about shit with the person with whom you are in love. What can I say? I'm just an old fashioned guy at heart.

I'd just finished digging the latrine when Frasier flagged me down.

"Sir? Can I talk to you about Dan'el?"

I glanced over at the subject of her query. He was seated next to Teal'c by the fire. I was quite pleased that after his early shyness Dan'el was becoming increasingly comfortable around my companions. Just so long as he didn't get too comfortable, if ya know what I mean. Teal'c was okay though. He was the only member of the expedition who wasn't flustered by Dan'el's penchant for nudity. And yes, I'm including myself in that statement. C'mon what's not to get hot and bothered about? Especially when Dan'el has the hot part down cold. Well, so to speak. And speaking was exactly what they were doing. Dan'el had been fascinated to learn that English was not the native tongue of Teal'c's people. He was delighted by the idea of multiple languages and had asked Teal'c to teach him his tongue as well. As I'd begun to suspect, the boy has quite a knack for linguistics. It must be that nimble tongue of his.

"Sir?" Frasier repeated, drawing me out of yet another Dan'el induced fugue state.

"What is it, Frasier?"

"Well, sir. It occurs to me that if we're going to be returning to civilization, then perhaps it is time to explain to Dan'el about the importance of clothing in our culture. I mean, he can't just go around naked all the time."

I shot a glance over at my little monkey, watching the way the firelight gilded his perfect body and turned his hair copper. 'But he looks so good like that,' I couldn't help but think.

I sighed. "I know, Doc. And you're right. Its just that he is pretty resistant to the idea of wearing clothes."

"Well, then you need to explain it to him again, sir," she continued, her tone becoming a bit sterner. "And, well, not to put to fine a point on it, sir, but Dan'el's bare ass has already caused one fatality. We need to stop this before..."

"Before it kills again?" the sudden image of a serial killer ass flitting through my mind. Well, you try having a serious conversation when all of your brain cells have taken up residence in your shorts!

"Yes, sir." "Alright, alright. I'll talk to him after dinner."

"Thank you sir."

True to my word, I pulled Dan'el aside after dinner. I explained to him about the clothing we wore and reasons we were more or less required to wear it in public. It wasn't really making much of a dent. Dan'el saw how all of us were sweating in the sweltering heat; so as far as he was concerned, we were the ones behaving in an abnormal fashion. I have to admit, he had a point on that. Finally I was forced to pull out the big guns. Again.

"Dan'el, you have to wear clothes because I said so."

That got me a puzzled frown. Okay, on to the really big guns.

"Dan'el, it would make me happy if you would wear clothes." Never have less truthful words come from my mouth, but it did the trick. He smiled at me a bit shyly and acquiesced.

"Okay, Jack."

As it turned out, getting him to agree to wear clothes was only the first hurdle. Figuring out how to wear them was a whole new challenge. I handed him a pair of boxer shorts. He turned them over in his hands, studying them curiously, before proceeding to stick them on his head. I suddenly found myself confronted with the bizarre image of Dan'el, completely naked except for the pair of pale blue boxer shorts on his head, with his blond hair spilling out of the leg holes like a pair of demented pigtails. It was the silliest thing I'd ever seen. And got help me, I still thought he looked hot.

He smiled at me, quite pleased by his first foray into sartorial splendor. I smiled back before gently pulling the shorts from his head. He frowned, clearly confused and maybe even a touch embarrassed that he'd made a mistake. I needed to figure out a better way to do this when I hit upon an idea. I scooped the clothes up in one hand and grabbed Dan'el by the other and pulled him behind some trees and well out of the sight of our companions.

"Okay, Dan'el, I'm gonna show you how to wear clothes." I began to unbutton my shirt, explaining to him what it was and the fabric it was made from before removing it from my body. I did the same with each article of clothing until I was as naked as the day I was born.

Dan'el smiled at me, that filthy, leering grin that usually signaled that some poor, innocent banana is about to be deflowered. "Yes, Jack, much better."

"Okay, now Dan'el, I'm going to show you how to get...Dan'el...um no, wait. I didn't mean for you to...oh, God, Dan'el stop...stop...oh dear God don't stop...don't stop...DAN'EL!"

Sometime later, after the jungle stopped spinning and I managed to regain the faculty of speech, I continued my lesson in dressing sharply to a thoroughly smug Dan'el who kept licking his lips provocatively throughout. Did I mention, that I love the sneaky little shit?

I eventually succeeded in explaining the finer points of underwear and trousers. He thought I was nuts, but hell, he wasn't far off since I was certainly nuts about him. He agreed to the pants, but balked at the shirt, saying it was simply too hot. I really couldn't argue that given that I was currently sweating like a pig, so I let it slide, with the caveat that we would soon be going places were it was much cooler and a shirt would be required. He shrugged his shoulders amiably in a way that told me I might be fighting that battle again soon as well.

But while I managed to gain concessions of pants and to a lesser extent shirts, the one point he categorically refused to budge on was shoes. He simply would not, could not, wrap his head around the concept. I tried explaining to him that they serve as protection not only against cold, but against hard and uncomfortable surfaces. Surely that should make sense?

Nope. No dice. When I tried to explain further about the vulnerability of the human foot, he simply sat down and showed me the sole of his foot. My eyes widened in surprise. I'd seen army boots with thinner, more fragile soles than the ones he had on his feet. Okay, it looks like I'd lost round three as well. Well, one out of three ain't too bad, right? And at least I got him into pants, so that should certainly count as a major victory. Daniel's lethal ass was now contained and hidden from view. I could only hope that that would put an end to its killing spree. I so didn't want to lose any other members of my expedition, least of all myself.

And now I think all out hard work, deserves a little reward for the both of us. Hmmm...I wonder how we can celebrate the victory? Oh Dan'el...?

* * *

I leaned back against the cool leather seat of the car, watching the landscape whiz by and letting my mind drift back over the events of the past few weeks. After the long hike through the jungle, we at last made our way to the coast where we had begun our journey in preparation for our return to America. We said our goodbyes to Teal'c who offered each of us a solemn nod in farewell, well, all of us except for Dan'el. The two of them held a brief conversation before we parted, carried out completely in the fluid tongue of Teal'c's people. I had been stunned by the speed with which Dan'el had learned Teal'c's language while Teal'c himself had been both surprised and pleased in equal measure. I had no idea exactly what was said between the two men, though I knew it was something of a serious nature. They stood rather close together, Teal'c's large hands resting on Dan'el's shoulders while they conversed. Teal'c's expression was stoic as always but Dan'el's was quite earnest. Suddenly, they turned to look at me, both of them smiling broadly, Teal'c's wry amusement as apparent as Dan'el's impishness. They looked at me for several seconds and I felt myself squirm under their scrutiny, a blush beginning to creep across my cheeks in spite of myself. At last, Teal'c released Dan'el's shoulders and bowed deeply before he left without another word.

I was feeling distinctly uncomfortable after that little display, but my worries vanished as soon as Dan'el came to stand at my side, gently placing a hand on my arm.

"We go now?"

"Yes, Dan'el, we go."

Our first stop was Washington D.C. to pay a visit to Daddy Davis. He had, after all, bankrolled the expedition so we needed to give him a full, well almost full, report. And of course, we also had to deliver the bad news about his son. Surprisingly, or perhaps not so surprisingly, Daddy Davis wasn't terribly broken up by the tragic death of his darling boy, pretty much confirming my suspicions that that was the outcome he'd been hoping for all along. In fact, his only response to the bad tidings was to cock an eyebrow, dryly remark "Poor Paul, terrible way to end," before sipping his cognac and asking us eagerly if we'd found anything of interest on our little jaunt.

He was ecstatic when we told him about the ruined temple we'd discovered in the middle of the jungle and he hung on Carter's every word-and Lord knows there were plenty of them to hang on to-as she described the sites and discussed its probable function and origin while Frasier told him a bout a number of intriguing plants and herbs she had come across which she believed had valuable medicinal properties. He expressed a willingness to fund a second expedition if the information we brought back proved as promising as we believed. Both women offered to stay in D.C. to debrief him more thoroughly and to run tests on both the plant and rock samples they had retrieved, an offer he accepted with great enthusiasm.

By mutual consent, none of us made any mention of the real discovery of the expedition, namely, Dan'el, the ostensible heir of the Earl of Bluestoke. After a long discussion, we agreed that Dan'el would not be discussed, at least not until we had had the chance to go to England and introduce him to his alleged grandfather. Blood being thicker than water and all that, despite all evidence presented by the Davis clan to the contrary.

Once matters were settled with Davis and I could leave the situation in the more than capable hands of Carter and Frasier, I returned to the hotel to reclaim my little monkey so we could begin our voyage to England. I had spent a lot of time trying to decide how best to approach the reclusive, and by all accounts, quite cranky and curmudgeonly Earl of Bluestoke. Carter had done a bit of quick research and had learned that the Earl had been burned a few times by con artists claiming to have information on the whereabouts of the Jacksons or their young son, so consequently the Earl had become quite wary of such claims and had, in fact, become even more cranky and curmudgeonly, if such a thing was even possible. So, rather than mentioning Dan'el, I'd simply said that I had just returned from Africa where I'd recovered some belongings of his daughter that I wanted to return. Hey, technically that was true. While the response wasn't exactly warm, I did receive permission to come to Bluestoke Manor and meet the reclusive Earl.

So here I was, in the back seat of a sedan watching the landscape rush by through my window while an apprehensive Dan'el sat beside me gnawing on his lower lip and scratching himself occasionally. I couldn't really blame the guy for being a bit on the nervous side. Poor Dan'el had been on the receiving end of one culture shock on top of another. Some had delighted him, like Cheez Whiz (go figure!) and that big sunken tub with all the hot and cold running water he could want and, of course the squeaky rubber ducky supplied by yours truly. And of course, coffee, which he'd already encountered but which he now enjoyed on a regular basis, along with so much chocolate I wouldn't be surprised to find "Hershey's" stamped on his butt. He had been a bit disgruntled when he'd discovered that my warnings about cold weather and the necessity of shirts and jackets had been proven beyond question. He was now grudgingly dressed in a shirt and trousers though he still obdurately refused to do shoes. I glanced over to see a pair of bare feet resting on the floor mat next to the new backpack I'd purchased him to replace the blanket cum rucksack he'd been using since he left his tree house in the jungle.

I reached over, and placed my hand lightly upon his thigh. "Dan'el?" I queried softly.

He looked over immediately, giving me a sweet smile, his lips reddened by the constant worrying of his teeth. He placed his left hand on top of mine and I turned them over, lacing our fingers together and giving his hand a quick squeeze.

"It'll be alright," I assured him. "Remember, you don't have to stay here if you don't want to, okay?"

He nodded, gratitude shining in his eyes.

Still holding his hand in mine, I glanced out the window once more to see a large estate looming up at us from us in the middle distance. Bluestoke Manor. I stroked my thumb lightly across Dan'el's hand, partially to soothe him, but also to reassure myself. The truth was, I had no idea how the Earl would react when I suddenly presented him with his long lost grandson, for I had no doubts whatsoever that Dan'el was indeed Daniel Jackson, the heir of Bluestoke. Would he be happy? Grateful? Outraged? Would he deny this earnest and sweet natured young man, repudiate him as he had Dan'el's mother? Or would he welcome into his home and into his life?

The reality of it all was suddenly hitting home with terrible force. Up until now, my greatest concern was that the Earl would reject Dan'el which would surely be a devastating blow to a young man who'd already suffered the loss of his family once before. But now I was forced to confront the very real, and perhaps even more terrifying possibility that the Earl would accept Dan'el and that I would lose him forever. After all, what would a wealthy titled nobleman like Daniel Jackson need with a broken down, aging explorer like Jack O'Neill anyway?

I looked over at Dan'el once more, my Dan'el, Lord of the Monkeys. My friend, my companion, my lover. I could almost feel my heart breaking at the realization that I might very well lose him in the end. Not to the jungle and its dangers, but to civilization and its strict codes of behavior and responsibility. I had already explained to Dan'el that we could not speak of our relationship, of what we truly meant to one another. We'd never actually spoken of it or said the "L" word, but we both knew and understood without ever saying it aloud. It had always been there between us, right from the start, from the very first time Dan'el had snuggled up behind me as I slept, oblivious to, yet strangely comforted by, his presence. Dan'el was puzzled at first until I explained that it was our very special secret. He accepted that with an almost child-like delight, nodding his agreement, his long blond hair bobbing about his face as he smiled and promised not to say a word to anyone.

Could I really bear to let him go? That was the question, of course, but I didn't have the answer to it as yet. I was torn between doing what was right and doing what I wanted for myself. I squeezed Dan'el's hand once more and gave him what I hope was a confident and reassuring smile. I guess I wouldn't really know until the time came.

With a start, I realized the car had pulled to a stop. My door was opened and Dan'el and I were ushered out. We stood side by side gaping up at the sumptuous mansion before turning to look at one another with a hint of trepidation. I patted Dan'el's shoulder and smiled once more.

Showtime.

I'd always pretty much figured that it was good to be rich and taking stock of my current surroundings, I wasn't seeing anything to refute that opinion. We'd been met at the door by some snooty butler who had ushered us into the Earl's library to await his Earlness' or whatever you'd call him's, arrival. The room was large, paneled with rich, dark wood and sprinkled with a handful of leather bound chairs and a massive desk that took up the better part of one wall. The main attraction, of course, were the books, which lined shelves that reached from floor to the very high ceilings. Dan'el was staring with wide eyed delight, his mouth hanging open in a manner that should have made him look like a yokel but which I found unbearably cute. I could tell he was itching to scamper up that ladder of walnut wood and gleaming bronze to take a gander at the books further up, but he was behaving himself quite well.

It's the darnedest thing. Here's a guy who didn't speak English and who couldn't read or write until a few short weeks ago and yet there he is having multiple orgasms over a bunch of musty old books. See, now I could understand him getting all enthusiastic over the table lamps or the railing of the ladder; they're all bright and shiny and he can see his reflection in them which, I might add, startled the hell out of him the first time he saw it in a real mirror. But books? I can only assume its because his parents were scientists and their books were among the handful of possession he was able to keep all these years. It is, I suppose, just one of the things that makes Dan'el Dan'el.

I went over and sat myself down in one of those nice high backed leather chairs-comfortable and sturdy!-and settled myself in for what could be a long wait. Naturally, I picked one that offered me an unobstructed view of both the door and Dan'el though it was the latter that was drawing most of my attention. I will admit that Dan'el had cleaned up real nice (though I will also admit privately that I had absolutely nothing against his calling as a nudist). His hair was freshly washed and combed and hung down his back like a silken veil. The pale shirt he wore was open at the throat and the sleeves were rolled up to expose lots of bronzed skin and the trousers he wore clung to him in a most distracting manner.

Apparently, I was incorrect in my assumption that since Dan'el's ass was hidden from sight that it had somehow lost its power to bother, bewitch and bedazzle. Nope, not at all. If anything, the cotton trousers he wore simply drew more attention to his pert, nicely rounded ass, as I learned the...um, hard way. And to make matters worse, Dan'el still hadn't given in on the issue of wearing underwear. He didn't understand the point of it since, if he was wearing trousers, his best bits were already protected from cold, heat and other harmful things. So, not only did I get to see that shapely ass shown off to perfection, I had to cope with the additional knowledge that he was going commando the whole time. Just shoot me now.

Still, as scenery went, I could do a hell of a lot worse than Dan'el's delectable body, and I fervently hoped that I wouldn't be deprived of the view anytime soon.

A noise outside the door caught my attention. I rose quickly and made my way to Dan'el's side just as the library door opened. It was Chuckles the butler who stood by the open door with a sour expression on his face.

"The Earl of Bluestoke," he intoned before stepping back out of the room to make way for the aforementioned man.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Dan'el holding his breath. He wasn't the only one. We stood there for another long, breathless moment before the Earl graced us with his presence.

If I were to be perfectly honest, the man who walked through the door wasn't exactly what I expected. Kinda short, portly, balding and dressed in a ratty knit cardigan, he looked more like a displaced academic than an aristocrat. Then again, I'd always pretty much suspected that the nobility were an odd bunch, so I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. He walked over to me and stopped two feet away and gave me an assessing glance

"You are Mr. O'Neill? The one who said he found possessions belonging to my daughter?"

I kinda half-nodded, half-bowed. "Yep, that's me. And I'm guessing you're Nick Ballard, the Earl of Bluestoke then?"

His answering expression was one of wry amusement. "That would be a correct, though hardly a challenging conclusion."

Huh. Ya know, its strange. We're in England and I seem to recall Carter saying something about this guy being at least part Dutch, but damned if he doesn't speak with an eastern European accent. It's the damnedest thing.

"So," the Earl began, all business once more. "What have you brought me and who is this?" he asked, finally acknowledging Dan'el's presence.

I cleared my throat. "Well, the stuff is in this backpack, and as for my companion, his name is Dan'el, but I think you know him as Daniel Jackson."

The Earl's response was instantaneous. "Get out!"

"Wait a second..."

"I said get out. I have no grandson. My daughter was a foolish, willful child who married badly and ended up paying for that mistake with her life. And she took her child with her. My grandson Daniel is dead and has been for twenty seven years."

I moved towards him, offering him the framed picture I'd seen in Dan'el's tree house. "No he's not," I declared forcefully. "He's right here." I punctuated my assertion by gesturing at the wary Dan'el who was currently chomping on his lip like there was no tomorrow.

Nick took the picture from my hand, glanced at it, then up at Dan'el and shook his head. "This proves nothing. You could have gotten this photo anywhere."

"Aww, c'mon, even you've got to admit to the similarity."

"Superficial," he said, dismissing both Dan'el and myself with a wave of his hand. "I think it is time for you to leave."

He turned to walk away, but as he did so he caught a glimpse of Dan'el and stopped dead in his tracks. I looked over to Dan'el who was standing there as rigid and tense as a column, his ratty teddy bear clutched to his chest. I'm guessing he needed a Jack substitute right about then and the bear was the closest thing he could find. Old Nick walked over to Dan'el gazing at him with what looked like a mixture of wariness and hope.

"Where did you get that?" he asked

"Pookie," Dan'el answered with great solemnity. A frown creased his forehead as he tried to remember. "Mother." Was all he said.

Nick reached out a trembling hand to touch the bear clasped in Dan'el's arms. "I gave that bear to Claire when she was a little girl. She named it Pookie. It has...had her initials stitched over the heart," he explained somewhat haltingly.

I came over and gently took the bear from Dan'el's hands and turned it over. Sure enough, in stitching that had faded from time and exposure to the elements were the entwined letters "C.B." I showed it to Nick who stood there flabbergasted before launching himself at Dan'el and pulling the young, and thoroughly bewildered young man into an embrace, as if trying to squeeze the stuffing out of him to match the teddy bear.

"Daniel! Oh, Daniel! I can't believe it is really you! Alive after all these years!"

Dan'el's eyes were as big as saucers as he glanced at me pleading for help. I placed one hand on his shoulder in reassurance. "Its okay, Dan'el, its okay."

Nick looked over at me, the glimmer of tears in his eyes. "Thank you Mr. O'Neill, for finding my Daniel and bringing him home. What do you want as a reward? Name your price, I'll be happy to pay it."

Now, I don't exactly consider myself an altruistic guy, but I sure as hell ain't a mercenary and frankly, I rather resented the implication that my motives in bringing Dan'el home were anything less than pure. Now granted, most of my motives in relation to Dan'el were anything but pure, but in this situation, I was Mr. Driven Snow.

"I don't want any money. I just wanted to bring Dan'el home to his family."

Nick regarded me with surprise. "Well, surely there is something I could do for you. Where are you staying? I can have my driver take you back there and perhaps after a few days, you might think of some way I could repay you."

That last remark caught Dan'el's attention. "Jack?!" he asked, his distress at the prospect of being left alone here among strangers and in unfamiliar surroundings apparent in that one syllable.

"It's alright Daniel, you're home now," Nick commented patiently. Dan'el, however, was far from assured. He struggled out of Nick's embrace and quickly made his way to my side, placing a hand on my arm in a clear bid for comfort. I patted his hand reassuringly and then turned to the bewildered Nick to explain.

"Look, Nick...can I call ya Nick? Great. Okay, now Dan'el...I mean Dan-IEL, has spent the last twenty-seven years completely alone without any human contact until me and my party met him in the jungle. He and I have become...friends, but he's still skittish around strangers. Once he feels more comfortable, he'll be okay. But for now, I think it's best if I stayed around, at least for awhile."

Nick shifted his gaze between me, and the obviously edgy Dan'el. He nodded at last. "Very well. That does make sense. This must all be quite a shock for you, Daniel. I will arrange for rooms for both of you. In the meantime, perhaps, I can show Daniel around his new home. You are, of course, welcome to join us as well, Mr. O'Neill."

I caught Dan'el's pleading gaze, but it was entirely unnecessary. There was no way I was gonna leave him alone just yet. "Sure. Lead on."

Over the next several days Dan'el and I settled into life at Bluestoke Manor. I won't say "normal" because frankly, there was absolutely nothing about this whole situation that could ever qualify it as normal in my book. Old Nick, for all his cranky and cantankerous and curmudgeonly ways, made a genuine effort to make Dan'el feel at home. Nick's staff had made the terrible error of trying to serve Dan'el tea, rather than his now beloved coffee with breakfast, an oversight that had earned everyone in sight an up close and personal encounter with a snarling, caffeine-deprived monkey-boy. For all his sweet nature and even temperament, Dan'el was truly terrifying when denied his favorite beverage. This oversight was duly noted and never again repeated, to the collective relief of the entire household.

On the whole, mealtimes proved to be...interesting. Breakfast that first morning had been, well, I don't think disaster is too strong a word. I had hoped that once the little matter of the lack of coffee was cleared up, that we'd have smooth sailing from then on. I guess I was being overly optimistic there.

We had been ushered into the dining room with something akin to reverence. Hail the return of the prodigal grandson, I suppose. This room was as sumptuous as all the others we'd encountered during our tour the previous night: glittering chandeliers, brightly polished silver, dark burnished wood. Dominating the room was the massive table that was big enough to hold Dan'el's tree house comfortably and to seat more people than the young Lord of Bluestoke Manor had yet encountered in his entire life. On this morning, it was set for only three people: Nick, who was as yet not present, Dan'el and myself. I prodded Dan'el along and encouraged him to sit in the chair to the right of Nick while I took the seat on Dan'el's other side.

Dan'el frowned when he took in the table setting before him, the white bone china plate topped by a crisp linen napkin and surrounded by a veritable fortress of silverware. Dan'el wasn't exactly wild about utensils. I'd gotten him used to eating with a fork and a spoon, but he tended to ignore the knife and he still ate with his hands whenever he thought he could get away with it. He was clearly intimidated by the myriad of pieces set before him, and frankly so was I. Why the hell anyone needed three forks to eat one meal was beyond me. I smiled encouragingly at Dan'el and he smiled back, feeling a bit more at ease because of my presence. He turned back to his plate and frowned at the neatly folded napkin unsure what it was for and whether or not it posed a genuine threat to his safety. He reached out and poked it gently with his finger. When it caved under the onslaught of the fierce Dan'el of the Jungle, he picked it up only to watch in amazement as it changed shape and became a simple square of fabric which he then proceeded to put on top of his head. I'm still trying to figure out where in the hell he got that impulse from.

I cleared my throat to capture Dan'el's attention before carefully unfolding my napkin and draping it across my lap. He colored faintly before reaching up, removing his impromptu headwear and following my direction. I smiled at him again, reassuring him that no harm was done. Once the awkward coffee incident was behind us, a kindly looking housekeeper came over and asked the "young master" what he desired for breakfast. I decided to take preemptive action and offered him the fruit bowl instead.

At the time, it has seemed like the safest route. How could I have foreseen what followed? Dan'el peered into the bowl, which I noticed had no bananas, an observation that engendered disappointment and relief in equal measure. After puzzling over the strange assortment, Dan'el took an apple, holding it up before his enraptured gaze. The sight of Dan'el gazing at the innocuous piece of fruit as if it held all the mysteries of the world sparked a sudden vision of Eve offering the ultimate temptation to an unresisting Adam, an image that struck a little too close to home.

Clearly the apple was vexing him. He attempted to peel it like he would a banana, but could make no progress. Finally he had a flash of inspiration. Raising the fruit up high, he brought it down on the table with sudden force as if it was a cocoanut that needed to be cracked. Close, but no cigar. Instead of cracking the fruit in two, the force smashed the flesh of the apple, sending bits flying, spraying the room with pulp. It was at that moment Nick made his appearance, his smile dying on his lips as he took in the sight of his dining room and his now sheepish grandson covered in apple sauce.

Oops.

This was to be the first of many blunders made by the earnest, but hapless Dan'el over the course of the next several days. Everything was simply too new, too different from what he'd known before. Dan'el had gone from a world in which he'd been alone, but which had also offered complete freedom, to one that was crowded, noisy, confusing and full of all kinds of strange rules and codes he neither understood nor appreciated. Clothing continued to annoy him. Although Nick dressed like an academic at a retirement home in Florida, he insisted that his heir apparent dress in a manner suitable to his rank and station. Dan'el hated the neatly tailored suits Nick proposed, he fidgeted in the crisply starched shirts that rubbed and irritated his sensitive skin, making him scratch even more than he had in the jungle. He was also sneezing more, apparently in an allergic reaction to the detergent used by the estate laundry service. Dan'el was miserable, Nick was perplexed and I was frustrated.

You see, that was the other problem. Ever since the first time we had met, Dan'el and I had been sleeping together, both literally and euphemistically. Now that we were here, at the old family homestead, we were suddenly apart. I was pretty certain it wasn't a coincidence that Nick had arranged for our rooms to be in entirely different wings in the vast estate. Oh sure, he'd explained to Dan'el that he'd been given the suite of rooms that had once belonged to his mother before she'd had the bad taste-and good sense, if ya ask me--to run off and try to be happy rather than following the wishes of her father, while I, of course had been given a suite of my own in the guest wing. It was all very posh, very tasteful and very, very lonely. Every night I found myself lying awake, staring at the ceiling, adrift in that enormous bed while I tried to banish a variety of filthy fantasies featuring the heir to Bluestoke, a bottle of chocolate sauce, a couple of ice cubes and a blindfold. When I finally did drift off to sleep, I dreamed of bananas. So, consequently, when I woke up I was even hornier and more desperate than I had been before I'd gone to bed the night before.

As bad as the nights were, the days weren't much better. Nick never let Dan'el out of his sight, monopolizing his every waking moment while I was relegated to hanging around in the background. Despite the other oddities and quirks of his new life, the one thing Dan'el truly loved was the library filled to the brim with books. It was a passion that both Dan'el and his grandfather shared and Nick reveled in the time they spent together among those dusty old tomes. Not surprisingly, it left pretty much zero time for Dan'el to spend with yours truly. And okay, I'll admit it, I can't really blame the guy. I mean Dan'el is his grandson, his own flesh and blood, his heir, the light of his life, yadda, so of course he'd want to get to know him better. But c'mon. Here was a guy who was used to being left to his own devices and suddenly he's not given a moment to himself. It's got to be frustrating as hell. In fact I knew it was frustrating as hell. I knew this because every time I caught Dan'el's eye, I saw the same hungry desperation, the same need and the same towering disappointment that was reflected back at me every morning when I looked in the mirror. If something wasn't done about the situation and soon, well, I wouldn't be held responsible for the consequences.

Finally, Dan'el, bless his devious heart, took matters into his own hands. After another day spent watching Nick dote on Dan'el with a kind of fierce pride of ownership usually associated with a shiny Italian sports car, a brand new set of golf clubs or a Babe Ruth autographed baseball, followed by another dinner that looked like it had been scripted by the Marx Brothers, I'd retired to my room to spend another restless night dreaming of Dan'el and his clever, talented, filthy mouth. I'd finally dozed off into a fitful slumber when I felt a cool breeze across the bare skin of my arm and back followed by a dip in the mattress next to me. With instincts honed by years spent in dangerous locales, my eyes snapped open and I sat up, wide-awake, adrenalin pumping through my blood like heady wine. Before I could open my mouth to demand the identity of the trespasser, I felt a calloused fingertip pressed gently against my lips and a soft gust of breath against my ear.

"Jack."

Dan'el!

The finger was removed and I found myself gazing up at the other man, his silhouette limned in moonlight and his features cast into heavy shadow.

"Dan'el," I whispered huskily, before reaching up and pulling him towards me to take his lips in a searing kiss that he returned with equal fervor. I could feel him melt against me, his body pressing closer, his weight toppling us backwards upon the mattress. I wrapped my arms tighter around him, feeling warm, smooth skin beneath my questing palms, as his hands slid upwards, his fingers tangling in my hair, holding my head still while he claimed my mouth in another desperate, aching kiss.

Claim away, Dan'el.

I was seeing spots dancing before my eyes before we finally, reluctantly broke the embrace. Dan'el was draped across me, nuzzling my throat with soft kisses and delicate laps of that nimble tongue. I arched my neck to give him better access. Hey, it was the least I could do, seeing as how he'd gone to so much trouble to get here in the first place. Speaking of which...

"Dan'el?" I asked, keeping my voice soft, so as not to startle the other man who was clearly focused on the act at hand.

No response.

"Dan'el?"

"Hmmph?"

Okay, pseudo response.

"Dan'el!" I repeated more forcefully.

He glanced up from where he'd been feasting on my pulse point, looking rumpled and slightly blurred in the darkness.

"How did you get here?"

He frowned for a moment, until the query finally made its way through the lust induced haze-hey, nice to know I'm not the only one who's experienced it-and then me smiled that smile, the one that starts off sweet, shades into impish, before becoming decidedly wicked.

"Window. Me climb. See Jack. Have Jack."

Even in the weak moonlight from the open window, there was no mistaking the feral glint that suddenly flickered in his eye. I shivered in anticipation, having a pretty good idea of what he had planned for my willing, and desperately needy body. And then his words sunk in. Climb? He climbed here? From his room, clear on the other side of the mansion? Well, obviously, yes, he did. Clearly Nick and I had both underestimated the abilities of our clever, determined monkey. Well, like I've always said, hard work should be rewarded, to the victor the spoils...Ah hell, pick your cliché of choice, insert here, and let me and Dan'el get back to business. I lifted the blanket in invitation.

"I'm all yours Dan'el!" I said in a voice that I hoped clearly conveyed my profound generosity and altruism.

With a growl low in his throat, Dan'el dove under the covers, making short work of my shorts. I had no doubt we'd be making up for quite a bit of lost time tonight.

I awoke to sunlight streaming through my open window. I closed my eyes against the harsh light, feeling slightly dazed and befuddled, like I was hung over, even though I was quite sure I hadn't drunk anything the night before. Then suddenly memory hit. Dan'el's nocturnal foray and the subsequent night filled raw, fierce, achingly tender sex. No wonder I felt wasted; I was drunk on lust, or more accurately I was simply drunk on Dan'el.

Not surprisingly, I woke up alone. I sighed, feeling a pang of regret. Why did he always have to leave? Just once, I'd like to wake up and find Dan'el still snuggled in my arms fast asleep, that contented smile ghosting his lips, his breath whistling softly through his open mouth, while a small trail of drool trickled from those pretty lips to my chest. Even as that thought flitted through my mind, I realized it wasn't true. Well, not entirely. What I wanted most was to wake up every morning and find Dan'el still snuggled in my arms fast asleep, that contented smile ghosting his lips, his breath whistling softly through his open mouth, while a small trail of drool trickled from those pretty lips to my chest.

I rolled over on to my back and glared accusatorily at the ceiling. There was the problem. I couldn't stay here forever, as much as I'd like to. Sooner or later Nick would want me gone, figuring I was just a useless hanger-on or worse a potential distraction. And Dan'el....What did Dan'el want? Was I just something comfortable and familiar which made him feel safe in these new surroundings? A six foot two inch teddy bear that still had most of his stuffing in place despite the wear and tear on his knees? Or was I simply convenient? A quick lay, easily replaced by another warm body. Hey, I'd seen how some of the staff had been eyeing Dan'el up. I knew those looks: covetous, ravenous, libidinous. I'd seen the same expression on Davis' face before he met his untimely end. And I'd seen it every time I looked in the mirror. Dan'el would have no trouble whatsoever finding someone to replace me in his bed if he so desired. I had no delusions about myself. I know I'm not as young as I once was. I'm still in damned fine shape and I'm still fit enough and horny enough to show the insatiable Dan'el a good time. But was that enough? And would it continue to be enough?

Aw crap.

With those depressing thoughts banging around in my brain, I rolled out of bed and prepared to face the day.

Upon entering the dining room, I was treated to the breathtaking sight of Dan'el bathed in sunlight, his long blond hair ablaze from an errant beam streaming in from one of the windows. He looked up from his cup of coffee and smiled at me, a wonderfully filthy, leering smile. And then he slowly and quite provocatively licked his lips. I felt myself smile in return, a no doubt infatuated smile, as all of the blood currently residing in the vicinity of my brain emigrated south for the foreseeable future. I quickly took my seat before I could embarrass myself even further. As I began to drink my own cup of coffee I began to reflect that maybe everything would work out okay.

My optimism soon proved to be premature, however. We were joined shortly by old Nick himself. Dan'el, as per his custom, stood and went to his grandfather's side to give him a dutiful peck on the cheek and a murmured "good morning, grandfather," before taking his place once more.

"So Daniel," Nick began, as he spread his napkin across his lap, "did you sleep well last night?"

I damned near choked on my coffee at that, even though there was nothing untoward about the question. Hell, Nick had asked that every morning. Dan'el for his part remained perfectly composed. I saw a hint of a satisfied smile before he answered demurely, "Yes, grandfather."

"And you. Mr. O'Neill? Did you sleep well?"

"Oh yeah, never better." And never had truer words been spoken..

"Good, very good," Nick murmured into his teacup. After placing the china cup back in its saucer, Nick turned to Dan'el, giving his grandson his most earnest look. "There are a few matters of importance that we need to discuss."

I felt a chill run down my spine at those serious words. 'Not good,' a voice whispered in my mind, 'so not good.' I risked a glance over at Dan'el and I could see he shared my apprehension. His back was very straight and he was beginning to nibble on his lower lip and suddenly I felt another sharp pang of loss. I had nibbled on that lush, lower lip last night. In fact, I had nibbled, bitten, sucked, kissed and feasted upon pretty much all of that delectable body last night. After so much pleasure, it was a shame to efface the memory with trepidation. My own worry cranked up a notch.

"I have decided the time has come to introduce you to society, Daniel."

Both Dan'el and I gasped at that bombshell. Either Nick didn't notice or he didn't really care as he continued his speech.

"I have been without an heir for a long time. A very long time. Ever since your mother ran off and married that...that...American," Nick shuddered theatrically for effect, "some forty years ago. I want everyone to see you, to meet you, to know that the Bluestoke legacy will live on."

Nick paused once again, letting his words sink in. I was getting the idea that Nick liked the sound of his own voice. Dollars to doughnuts, he was on the debate team in high school and college.

"To that end, I have decided to hold a grand ball here at Bluestoke Manor one week from today to officially declare you my grandson and rightful heir," he finished with a flourish.

Whoa, whoa, WHOA! A grand ball?! With all the hoity-toity bluebloods in attendance? Oh that is such a bad idea!

"Oh that is such a bad idea!"

Shit! Did I say that aloud?

"I didn't ask for your opinion, Mr. O'Neill," Nick responded, his voice glacial and his expression withering.

Yep, I guess I did say that aloud.

"Are you really sure that is such a good idea? Dan'el...IEL, is still awfully skittish around strangers. And a house...er...mansion full of them could be a disaster."

"I know what I am doing, Mr. O'Neill. I neither want nor need your advice."

Well, lookee here, I can fit both feet in my mouth at the same time!

"You are welcome to stay for the ball," Nick said coolly, his blue eyes blazing into me, "but I think you should leave afterwards. Surely, a man of your talents has better things to do than lazing about in a country home in the middle of nowhere."

Sonuva...

I opened my mouth to protest, then slammed it shut with such force I wouldn't be surprised if I cracked the enamel on a tooth or two. I glanced over at Dan'el and saw his pleading expression. Whether he was begging me to save him from the spectacle Nick was planning or begging me not to make an ugly scene, I didn't know. It didn't matter. This wasn't the time or the place to discuss this, but the matter was far from settled. Nick and I would be having a long, long talk, very soon.

The next several days passed in a blur with Nick sticking to Dan'el's side like glue, except, of course, for every time I wanted to speak with him about Dan'el and what I considered his really bad idea for his coming out party. Every time I tried to broach the topic with Nick, he was suddenly terribly busy, needing to supervise some detail for the extravaganza. Technically, I knew he was right, of course; it wasn't any of my business. But I couldn't shake the feeling in my gut that this was going to lead to disaster. Every day we went through the same routine, starting with the parody of civilized chit chat over breakfast, followed by hours spent in the library followed by dinner accompanied by more idle chit chat. And every night after the household went to sleep, Dan'el climbed through my window and into my bed and made his way that much deeper into my heart. We never spoke of the ball or my impending departure. I knew that Dan'el was torn between wanting to be with me and wanting to make Nick happy. It hurt to see it, but at the same time, I couldn't bring myself to force Dan'el to make a decision just to please me. As much as I loved him, as much as I wanted him to come with me, it wasn't my life or my choice to make and it would be cruel of me to force Dan'el to choose between his lover and his family. I could only hope that in the end he would choose me.

The morning of the ball dawned brightly. I awoke in my bed dazed, sated and alone, as always. Dan'el had once again evacuated the premises before sunrise. I shifted my body, feeling a faint twinge of discomfort that sparked bittersweet nostalgia rather than true physical pain. Our lovemaking the night before had been intense and I tried not to think that it was because it was to be the last time. If that was the case, then I would forever be deprived of my deepest wish, of waking up with Dan'el in my arms and seeing him bathed in the soft light of dawn.

I didn't see Dan'el that morning. I knew he was in his suite, getting fitted for his duds for the party tonight and I had the sneaking suspicion that I wouldn't be seeing him until then. The unease that greeted me with the dawn spiked sharply when Chuckles the butler told me that his Earlship wanted to see me in his study. I knew this was going to be bad and good old Nick didn't disappoint. I walked into a study that looked a hell of a lot like the library only smaller and with fewer books. Nick was sitting behind a massive desk scattered with odds and ends and a butt ugly glass paperweight in the shape of human skull. 'Nice,' I couldn't help but think. 'Did you gnaw off the flesh with your own teeth?' He looked up when I entered the room.

"Ah, Mr. O'Neill, do come in. Have a seat," he said gesturing towards a nice leather chair in front of the desk. "You may leave us, James," he added, dismissing the butler with a casual gesture. Chuckles left, closing the door behind him.

I sat in the indicated chair, but I kept my back as straight as a rod. Something was about to go down, and I wanted old Nick to know I wasn't a man who caved easily.

"You strike me as a man who has little patience with pleasantries and trivialities, so I'll get right to the point," he began, his eyes boring into mine. "I want you to leave."

Well, that was certainly to the point. Though I was sorely tempted to dive right in, for once I held my tongue. I'd let Nick show his hand first.

"I am grateful to you, make no mistake, and I thank you for bringing my grandson home to me, but the truth is, there is no place for you in his life. You are nothing more than a distraction, a reminder of a past that Daniel needs to put behind him for his own good. You're just getting in his way."

"Well, I'd say that's clear enough. Have you asked Dan..iel how he feels about all this?"

"Daniel is a good boy, he understands the importance of family and of duty."

"Like I said, have you actually asked him how he feels about all of this?"

Nick shook his head at my obvious denseness. 'Yeah, Nick, explain it to the dumb American here. And don't forget to use small words.'

"Daniel is my heir. When I die, he will inherit not only my title, but this estate, a vast fortune and place in society. He needs to be prepared to take up that duty and frankly, Mr. O'Neill, you are getting in the way."

"Uh huh. And what do you mean exactly about 'doing his duty?'"

"Simply that he will need to be prepared to take his place as a member of the aristocracy and keep the Bluestoke bloodline alive."

"Sooo..." I drawled the syllable out, "...we're talking about churning out new little Bluestoke heirlets, then."

"Yes." Nick answered succinctly before leaning forward on his elbows. "I'm an old man, Mr. O'Neill, and I'm not getting any younger. Before I die, I want to insure that the Bluestoke legacy will carry on beyond Daniel."

"Marriage," I stated flatly.

"Yes, but a proper marriage to someone of the appropriate status and breeding."

"And where exactly is Dan...iel supposed to find the love of his life?" I asked, not even trying to hide the venom in my voice.

"There's no need. I've already found him a suitable bride."

What?!

"What?!"

Nick smiled at me, an expression that was far from reassuring. "Among the guests at tonight's ball will be Lady Shyla, Duke Pyrus's daughter. She's a bit flighty, true, but she's young, attractive and she has an impeccable pedigree. In addition to a vast fortune, she's a blood relative of the king. This union will cement the future of the Bluestoke bloodline for generations to come." He finished with satisfaction.

Sonuvabitch!

I'd thought that about Nick a few...okay, several times before now, but this takes the cake.

"Pedigree? Bloodlines? Are we talking about people or toy poodles here, Nick?" I asked in full sneer mode.

He shook his head. "You don't understand any of this O'Neill."

"I understand plenty, Nick," I said spitting out his name. "I understand you don't give a rat's ass about your own flesh and blood. This isn't about Dan'el wants, its only about what you want."

"It's his duty..." Nick began.

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe Dan'el doesn't want any part of this 'duty?' And that maybe your daughter ran away because she didn't want any part of this either?"

I scored a direct hit with that one, I was pleased to see. Nick was now a lovely shade of red shading into purple. "Mr. O'Neill," he grated out between clenched teeth. "You are only here because Daniel is fond of you and because I feel a certain...debt of gratitude to you because of the role you played in returning him here to me. However, this conversation is over. You will leave tomorrow at first light. And should you even attempt to discuss this matter with Daniel, I will have you forcibly removed from the premises. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," I grated back at him, my teeth clenched so tight I thought they might crack under the pressure. I stood and turned on my heel, stalking out of the room before the urge to break something, or to shove my fist down Nick's throat became too strong to resist.

The rat bastard! How dare he?! How dare he take that sweet natured, wonderfully unpretentious, incredibly hot guy and turn him into a pasty faced, brain-dead aristocrat trapped in a loveless marriage who'll probably end up obsessed with cricket and fox hunting and such to relieve his boredom. I'd be damned if I was going to let that happen. I immediately made my way to Dan'el's suite, taking the stairs two at a time in my haste. However, as soon as I reached the top of the landing, I slowed my pace. Standing there, right in front of Dan'el's door was a six foot four wall of muscle, arms akimbo looking like he was ready to chew nails.

Ah, so Nick decided to get Dan'el a guard dog for Christmas. Sweet.

I knew there was no way in hell I was gonna get past the incredible hulk there to get to Dan'el. All the attempt would gain me was an early eviction notice from the property and I couldn't afford that. I'd have to bide my time and wait until the party and hope it wasn't too late.

Please Dan'el. Don't let it be too late.

As the sun set on Bluestoke Manor, the guests began to make their way to what was sure to be the social event of the season. The local aristocracy was abuzz with excitement. It had been years, hell decades, since the wealthy but reclusive, cantankerous and oh so curmudgeonly Earl of Bluestoke had hosted a social event of any kind, let alone a gala ball. Everyone knew something exciting was about to happen, but no one knew the exact nature of the event itself.

Bluestoke Manor looked magnificent, that is if you liked that whole trashy, overdressed, tasteless kind of look, I reflected with more than a touch of disgust. The nobles were decked out to the eye teeth, whatever in the hell that meant, swilling down as much free booze as they could get their grubby mitts, slithering about the ballroom, spewing venom all over one another as the band played in the background. Huh. Music to knife your neighbors by.

I took another sip of champagne and winced. I hated these types of things, but as bad as it was for me, it would be that much worse for Dan'el. God, all these people, and for a bunch of bluebloods, they sure as hell didn't act like it. I'd already had my ass grabbed more times tonight-by both men and women-than in my entire life up until this point. And that is saying a lot. Christ, they were gonna eat Dan'el alive.

Suddenly, the band stopped playing and Nick appeared at the top of the staircase dressed in a ratty old tuxedo with some garish sash over his front loaded down with medals and ribbons and God only knew what else. I didn't listen to Nick's self-important speech. I'd had more than enough of his spouting to last me a lifetime. Besides, I knew the punch line to this joke already.

And then Dan'el was there, standing at the top of the stairs, looking...breathtaking. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored tuxedo that molded perfectly to his lean, muscular body, showing it off to greatest effect. The white of the shirt served to heighten his tan and the neatly tied bow just added an extra touch of class. His long blond hair was flowing loose across his shoulders almost like a mantle and it shimmered in the soft lights.

There was a collective gasp when he made his appearance followed by a stunned silence as Dan'el slowly walked down the stairs towards the crowd below. I suddenly thought of Dan'el's namesake walking into the lion's den and decided that the Daniel in the Bible had it way easier than my little monkey did. They were watching him avidly, every eye upon him, some curious, some suspicious, most covetous. Waiting and wanting, all of them wanting something from him. Knowledge, insight, entertainment, carnal pleasure. I looked up at Nick, wondering if he saw it, understood it. He looked like he had just sucked on a lemon, his face twisted into a moue of distaste. I didn't understand, since surely this was what he wanted. It wasn't until I looked at Dan'el again that I understood the reason why Nick was standing there with that stormy expression and I had to make an effort to smother the bark of laughter bubbling up from my chest.

Dressed to the nines in a spiffy tux, looking like God's gift to woman and mankind, Daniel Jackson, heir of Bluestoke, was as barefoot as the day he was born.

I watched as Dan'el made the rounds of the party, or more accurately as he was tossed about like a piece of flotsam by a relentless and implacable current. It seemed like everyone wanted to get up close and personal with the heir apparent to the Bluestoke fortune. Obviously there were more than a few gold diggers and all around fortune hunters here tonight, along with the more run of the mill predators who were naturally drawn to such a sweet young thing as Dan'el.

I kept trying to make my way to his side, but like him I was constantly buffeted by the tide of flowing bodies. I saw a rather attractive young woman hand Dan'el a glass of champagne that he drank without hesitation. Uh oh. This could be a bit of a problem since Dan'el has never, ever, consumed alcohol in his entire life and champagne does have a tendency to go to one's head. Oh yeah, I've got a bad feeling about this. The best I could do was keep my eyes open for trouble and be there to cover his back-or his front-should the need arise.

For the better part of the evening I watched as Dan'el was handed off like some Kewpie doll at a carnival, passed from one vapid noble to the next. The champagne was flowing freely and Dan'el was drinking way too much for his own good. He was gonna have a massive hangover come morning, of that I was absolutely sure.

And then Dan'el was talking to another young woman. She was pretty enough, even if she had lousy taste in clothes. And what the hell was she wearing on her head, for crying out loud? I heard someone near me whisper 'Lady Shyla,' and I knew this was the missus-to-be if old Nick had his way. I studied her, trying to be objective, noting the way she clung to his sleeve and practically draped herself across him. I noted the insipid smile and high-pitched, insincere giggle and I knew that I had to stop this. I couldn't let this...this...farce go on any longer. I had to save Dan'el from this.

Finally my opportunity came. The would-be Lady of the Monkeys was turned away, speaking to an older man who I assumed was her father and there was a slight break in the crowd. I made my way quickly to Dan'el's side, pulling him away a bit in the hopes of talking to him.

"Dan'el," I hissed in his ear, "It's me, Jack."

He looked at me then, his eyes very wide and slightly unfocused, but when he saw me, they were so full of love, so brimming with devotion, I felt my heart lurch in my chest.

"Jack!" he cried out and there could be no mistaking the obvious delight in his voice, an emotion that was reflected in action moments later when he threw his arms about my neck and plastered his plastered self against me. I felt a sudden wetness on my back and I knew that some of the champagne had tipped out of his flute.

"Jack," he repeated happily as he began to nuzzle contentedly at my neck. Okay, I had to put an end to this real quick before it got even more embarrassing, or worse, before I stopped caring. With a supreme effort, I wrested his tentacles from around my neck and put my hands on his shoulders holding him gently, but firmly away from me. He was frowning a bit, befuddled and maybe a little disappointed, until he looked at my face again and then he smiled his sweetest, most winsome smile, and it was like the sun breaking through the clouds on a rainy day. 'Focus, O'Neill, focus," I reminded myself sternly.

Just then a waiter walked past with a tray of champagne flutes. Dan'el deftly dropped his now empty glass and picked up another. "Drink!" he proclaimed proudly, before raising it to his lips. Fortunately, I hadn't been drinking and my reflexes were faster as I smoothly blocked the gesture and removed the glass from his hand, earning me a pout and a pair of sad puppy eyes. 'Aw jeez.'

"No drink?" He asked forlornly. I shook my head as his pout deepened. 'Be strong,' I told myself. 'You're here to help him.' Once again, Dan'el's disappointment evaporated almost immediately, to be replaced by something else, something sly and downright dangerous.

"Jack," he repeated for the third time as he once again moved in for the kill. He rested his body against mine, laying his head on my shoulder.

Deciding that time was quickly running out and that we were safe enough for the moment, I forged ahead. "Dan'el, you know that woman you were just talking to...?"

I felt him nod against my shoulder. "Shyla."

It was my turn to nod. "That's right, Shyla. Your grandfather wants, hell, expects you to marry her, settle down and make lots of little junior Bluestokes. Is that what you want?"

"Marry?" he asked, his tone puzzled and his voice still muffled by my shoulder.

"Marry," I tried to explain somewhat awkwardly. "You know, mate, live with, grow old together with...love."

He looked up at me then and his heart was in his eyes. "Me not love Shyla. Me love Jack. Me love Jack very, very much." He sighed, then laid his head on my shoulder once more, snuggling in and wrapping his arms about my waist.

Love? Dan'el loves me? Me, Jack O'Neill? As that realization sunk in I suddenly felt like the king of the world, as if all of my birthdays and Christmases had come at once and had been hand delivered to me dressed in a tuxedo and bare feet.

My moment of triumph was short-lived. I suddenly felt a meaty paw on my shoulder-the one not currently occupied by Dan'el's head and then I was pulled back and away to come face to face with Dan'el's guard dog and old Nick who looked fit to be tied.

"O'Neill," he ground out, "I warned you to stay away from Daniel."

"Look, he doesn't want this. Can't you see it? He doesn't fit in here."

"And I told you, this was none of your business. Daniel is my grandson and I know what is best for him, not you."

I shook my head in angry disbelief. "You don't even know him. All you see is what you want to see. You have no idea what his life was like before he came here. The freedom, the serenity, he had. All you want to do is change him, remake him over into your image. That's not love, Nick. If you really loved him you'd let him make his own mind up. You'd want him to be happy."

By this time we'd gathered quite a crowd of onlookers who were watching the increasingly heated exchange with vicious glee, waiting for the argument to come to blows. Christ. It was like some blood sport for the rich and vacuous.

"Enough!" Nick roared. "I warned you not to interfere in matters that do not concern you. Hans," he said, turning towards the big and gruesome, "remove Mr. O'Neill from the premises."

The wall o'muscle moved towards me, a grim expression on his face.

"I suggest you keep your hands to yourself if you want to keep them," I warned in my silkiest and most lethal voice. I wasn't sure if I could actually take gorilla boy here. He had two inches and about fifty pounds on me, but I was pretty sure I could see to it that he would be needing to eat through a straw in the foreseeable future. We squared off, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

And then there was a sound.

Not just any sound. It was a yell, a deep, warbling sound that echoed through the ballroom. I knew that sound because I'd heard it before.

Dan'el.

I glanced to my side where Dan'el had been when Nick and his goon had first arrived on the scene, but he was gone. I'd been so focused on arguing with Nick that I hadn't even noticed that he had left. And then I heard the yell a second time. I turned in the direction from where it came and was greeted by a sight that made my heart-and my libido-cry out with joy.

There was Dan'el standing once more at the top of the staircase, but now he was butt naked, just as he was when first we met. He let out a third yell, ululating at high volume, the sound bouncing crazily off the chandeliers and glasses about the room. He then climbed on top of the railing, perfectly balanced there and then proclaimed, "Me Dan'el! Lord of the Monkeys!" And with that he leapt into space.

There was a collective gasp of shock from the crowd below that nearly drowned out the screams of Nick and myself.

"Daniel!"

"Dan'el!"

But there was no real cause for alarm. Dan'el hadn't just jumped from the railing, he had jumped to the chandelier. I had a sudden sense of déjà vu as my mind flashed back to my conversation with the now deceased Davis shortly after our encounter with Dan'el:

//"We don't have any proof that this is, in fact, Daniel Jackson. And even if it is, do you honestly see him as a titled gentleman on an estate? He'd be swinging from the chandeliers naked for Christ's sake!"//

Huh. Whaduyaknow?! I had no idea that I could tell the future, but apparently I could and with fair accuracy, because the reality being played out before me was every bit as disturbing and erotic as the fantasy had been. Dan'el was swinging over our heads, his lithe body dangling from the crystal fixtures as he moved with all the grace of a trapeze artist. No, not a trapeze artist, a monkey in a zoo. Taken from the wilds where he'd been bred, where he'd been happy, and transplanted unwillingly into a new, phony environment far from his home. Only now, as he flew through the air, did he find some semblance of the joy that was once his birthright.

He was breathtaking.

He was also about to have a nasty, up close and personal encounter with Mr. Gravity. I could hear it, a sound that was almost like a groan, only it wasn't coming from the crowd below, but rather from the ceiling above. The chandelier, the light fixtures, and the ceiling itself was starting to give way.

"Dan'el!" I cried out in warning, but it was too late as suddenly the ceiling gave way, dropping plaster, stone, crystal and monkey boy to the ground. The noise was tremendous and the room was filled with screams and plaster dust. I waved my hand in front of me, trying to clear the dust and make my way to Dan'el's side, terrified at what I might find.

'Let him be alive and okay, let him be alive and okay,' was the mantra echoing through my brain.

I reached his prone form within moments and I knelt down to examine him, my heart in my throat. He was covered from head to toe in a fine coating of plaster dust, transforming his tanned skin into a pasty parody of its true appearance. I rested one hand on his shoulder and reached out with the other to check the pulse at his neck, holding my breath the entire time. I breathed a sigh of relief. The pulse was steady and strong.

"Dan'el," I whispered to him, "C'mon big guy, time to wake up here."

And as if on command, Dan'el's eyes opened. He looked at me and smiled, no, that wasn't accurate. He beamed. "That fun! Me do again?"

I dropped my head to my chest, closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath, as I mentally counted the new gray hairs that had just sprouted on my head, praying there would be ample opportunity for Dan'el to turn the rest of them gray as well. I checked him over quickly, helping him into a sitting position, but he seemed to have made the descent to earth without acquiring a scratch. The same could not be said for the ballroom, which was now a dust covered disaster area. We both looked up to see the gaping hole where the chandelier had once been and then looked at each other.

"Oops," Dan'el pronounced sheepishly.

Yep, that was one word for it.

"Daniel."

Uh oh. Here comes trouble.

Nick came over and knelt at Dan'el's side, the old guy coated in a layer of plaster dust like the rest of us. I held my breath, waiting for the tirade and recriminations I was sure were about to come. Instead, much to my surprise, Nick simply reached out and hugged Dan'el as if there was no tomorrow.

"Daniel," he repeated burying his face in the bewildered young man's neck. Dan'el for his part simply held on to his grandfather, rocking him gently and running his hands softly and soothingly along the old man's back.

Finally Nick was in control once more. He touched a trembling hand to Dan'el's cheek and then looked up and me with tears in his eyes.

"You were right, O'Neill. He doesn't belong here. He'll never belong here. Take him away. Take him home."

I dropped a sympathetic hand on Nick's shoulder. I knew how much that admission had cost him and I knew how much he would miss Dan'el. I knew because, I couldn't imagine my life without him and I'm sure Nick was feeling the same. I stood up and pulled my dust covered, embarrassed and incredibly hot little monkey to his feet and into my arms.

"Come, Dan'el, Lord of the Monkeys. We're going home."

And so it was that we came full circle. Kinda poetic, huh? Dan'el and I are back here in the jungle where we first met and where we first fell in love. Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm turning into big old sap in my old age. Bite me, 'cos I don't care.

There have been some changes, of course. For one, we've abandoned the tree house and built a nice new house in the clearing near the waterfall where we first met. It's big and pretty damned comfortable, and best of all, its accessible by ladder rather than vine. I'm adaptable, but even I have my limits. Our life here is simple, but its also damned peaceful, and best of all, we're together.

We're not completely out of touch here. About a month after we settled in here, the second Davis expedition, this time lead by Sam Carter along with Janet Frasier and Teal'c, came by on the way to the ruins. It was great seeing them again. They looked good, but then again so did we. Dan'el and I accompanied them and worked with them. It was just like old times. Carter is still gushing about this amazing find. She's planning on publishing the findings and she wants Dan'el to help her write it up. After all, it was technically his discovery and he was the one who translated everything. I know Dan'el doesn't really care about such things, but it's nice that he'll get the credit he deserves. The Jackson legacy will live on.

And speaking of legacies, about eight months after our return to the jungle we received word that Nicholas Ballard, the twelfth Earl of Bluestoke had passed away. Despite everything that happened, Dan'el grieved deeply for his grandfather and actually so did I. While he hadn't exactly been my favorite person in life, Nick had done the right thing by Dan'el in the end, even though it had hurt like hell, and I can't help but respect that.

We returned to England so that Dan'el could pay his last respects. The funeral was long over, of course, but Dan'el wanted to do this for the old man and I couldn't argue with him on that. So we made our to Bluestoke Manor, this time in grief rather than anticipation. When we arrived, the family barrister took us to Nick's study and read the contents of the old man's will. Shortly before his death, he apparently changed it, naming Dan'el his sole heir and beneficiary, leaving him not only the title and the estate, but a vast fortune as well. His only stipulation was that Dan'el use it in a manner that would bring honor to the Bluestoke name. The codicil ended with a simple plea. "I'm sorry, Daniel. Please forgive me."

After much discussion, we called in Carter, Frasier and our buddy Teal'c to help us with our plan to establish the Bluestoke Foundation. Dan'el wanted to use the funds to support archeological, anthropological and linguistic research around the world. We all agreed it was a great idea and a legacy that would do all three generations of the Ballard-Jackson clan proud. Carter and Frasier promised to oversee the establishment of the foundation here in England while Teal'c would establish a branch in Africa as well. We returned to our home in the jungle, secure in the knowledge that we'd done a very good thing.

Life settled into a routine, a pretty damned idyllic one, actually. Dan'el and I spent out days exploring the jungle and the nights exploring one another. Teal'c made sure we received regular shipments of books, coffee, chocolate and Cheez Whiz. And me? Well, I got my fondest wish after all. Every morning for the rest of my life I get to wake up and find Dan'el snuggled in my arms fast asleep, a contented smile ghosting his lips, his breath whistling softly through his open mouth, while a small trail of drool trickles from those pretty lips to my chest. And as legacies go, I'd say that's the best one of all.

* * *

Epilogue

I awoke with a start, disoriented and bemused, my head swiveling about, trying to get my bearings. I breathed a sigh of relief. I was in my own living room, sprawled out on my couch. Daniel was seated at the far end, his limbs twisted and wrapped up in one of those weird positions of his that only the very young, very supple and very double jointed could ever achieve, He was reading a book-oh yeah, big shock there-while absently scratching himself. Jeez! What was it with this guy? Did he have fleas or something?

That thought gave me a start and an eerie sense of déjà-vu. Double jointed? Scratching? And then suddenly my strange but damned erotic dream came rushing back at me. My little monkey. Not tanned and long haired and naked-pity about that last one-but very much mine.

I must have made some sound upon awakening. Daniel looked over at me and smiled. "Hey," he said, his voice soft as he put his book down on the coffee table. "I thought you were gonna sleep all evening. I guess the movie wasn't as interesting as you remembered, huh?"

Movie? I looked down at the coffee table. Sure enough, there was an empty video box sitting there. I picked it up and looked at the title of the spine. "Greystoke: The Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes." Well, that certainly explained the strange dream. Not to say it wasn't a good one, hell no. It was a damned sight better than good, incredible even. Still holding the empty video case, I looked over at Daniel, trying to imagine him all tanned and gleaming, a long mop of unruly blond hair cascading down his back. Nope, didn't work. Then again, who needed Tarzan when I had my own space monkey right here?

A wonderfully wicked thought suddenly came to mind. I tossed the video case back on to the coffee table and stood.

"Daniel?" I queried softly, trying to keep my voice as neutral and non-threatening as possible as I extended a hand in his direction.

Daniel's eyes narrowed in suspicion. He knew me well enough to know I was up to something, even if he didn't have the first clue as to what that might be. Nevertheless he moved towards me in what he thought was caution. 'Sucker,' I thought to myself as he came within striking range.

With a predatory smile on my lips, I lunged out and grabbed him. Before he could even manage to utter a single word of protest, I tossed him over my shoulder and began to make my way to the bedroom, ignoring the rather loud protest my own treacherous knees were giving in his stead.

"Jaaack!' he sputtered, his indignation coming on line right on cue. "What the hell are you doing? Put me down this instant!"

"Nope!" I replied cheekily. "Me Tarzan, you hot. Me gonna have wicked way with you all night long!"

"Jaaack!" he protested again. I slapped him on the ass with my free hand, not too hard, but enough to make him yelp and wriggle in that delightful way he had. 'Oh yeah, monkey-boy, you keep right on doing that!'

"Come, Lord of the Space Monkeys," I intoned with my most solemn voice. "We go now. Bed, soft. Me, hard." And then the mock gravity gave way to wry amusement. "If you show me your banana, I'll show you mine!" I concluded, with my best leering tone.

Daniel started laughing at that. "Alright, alright, I give. But so help me, if you call me 'Jane' or 'Cheetah' even once, you'll be singing soprano. Permanently!"

I chuckled in response. No worries there. I had much better things to do with my mouth than that.

When I finally reached the bedroom, I strode boldly through the threshold, kicking the door shut behind me. The night, and my space monkey were still young. And OK, so maybe I wasn't quite so young anymore, but at least I still had my stamina. And my enthusiasm. And a cock that had suddenly decided it needed to get out a lot more often. Or better, yet, in, if I could manage it.

And if the neighbors heard the occasional Tarzan yell coming from the O'Neill residence that night, well, it wasn't really any business of theirs, now was it?

OK, I will say right off the bat that this is so not my fault. This is Pam's monkey, er, bunny, and she made me write this! Really she did! Not sure what you'd call this: farce? Parody? Complete insanity? Yeah, that sounds 'bout right.

This fic began life as a birthday prezzie for Jen, but because of time constraints, I was only able to write the first section of the story and was unable to carry the story to its rightful narrative conclusion. The lack of completion bothered me so much that I just had to finish it up. May the Lord have mercy on my keyboard and upon all of those foolhardy enough to read this. The original ending is retained in the form of an epilogue.