Masquerade by Widget

Life lesson number 5,389: Always read the small print before agreeing to anything.

After living forty-six years on God's green Earth, Jack O'Neill should have learned that particular lesson long before now. But he supposed it was because he had never taken it in conjunction with life lesson number 5,390, namely never, ever trust a USAF doctor cum Napoleonic power monger.

It had all started out simply enough, with a casual conversation with Doc Fraiser as they passed one another in the halls of the SGC early one morning.

"Colonel!" Janet Fraiser had called just as he was about to enter his office and hunker back down with some paperwork. Given the choice between continuing to review quarterly budgetary reports in Hammond's absence and chatting with the SGC's CMO, there really wasn't much of a competition.

"What can I do for you Doc?" He asked affably.

She smiled at him. No, in point of fact she beamed at him. That should have been the tip-off, but he'd missed it at the time. He could only blame it on the mind numbingly dull reports he'd been reviewing for the past two days that had slowed down his reflexes and interfered with his normally acute danger sense. He ushered her into his office, putting the cup of what passed as coffee on his desk and gestured towards the empty seat. She politely declined.

"I won't keep you long, she explained before smiling brightly once more, once again failing to set off his internal alarms. "I'll get to the point, Colonel. As you might already know, I'm a member of the steering committee of the Denver branch of the Pediatric Diabetes Foundation."

That sounded familiar. Yes, he seemed to recall her talking about her work with the charity, that she had become involved when one of Cassie's school friends had been diagnosed with the illness and Doc Fraiser, being the compassionate tyrant she was had thrown herself heart and soul into the cause. Not that Jack blamed her. It was good work, important work and he genuinely admired her for taking on yet another responsibility on top of her hectic work load at the SGC and the trials and travails of being a foster mom to a teenage alien girl. 'Though when ya think about it, 'teenage alien' is pretty much redundant.'

"Anyway," Fraiser continued, "I'm the chair of this year's fundraising event. We've had fairly good luck with raising money in the past, but I really want to make this year's event a success. So I'm trying to drum up interest here at the SGC and try to sell a few tickets. They're not cheap, but..."

And that was where Jack made his fatal error. Despite years of experience in the field which had taught him one fundamental rule, namely obtain all intelligence possible before committing irrevocably to a course of action, Jack leapt in without hesitation.

"Sure Doc. I'd be happy to buy a coupla tickets. Its for a good cause after all."

She beamed at him again. "Really? That's wonderful! Thank you, Colonel, it really means a great deal."

"Not a problem. I'm happy to help." He smiled back, unable to help himself. "How much?"

"They're a hundred dollars each."

"Youch! You weren't kidding!" He groused amiably "But like I said, it's for a good cause. Put me down for two. Can I pay ya tomorrow?"

"Not a problem, sir," she replied, echoing his earlier remark. "I'll give you the tickets then."

He nodded.

"Well, sir, I've already taken up enough of your time. I'll let you get back to work."

His face screwed up in obvious displeasure at the thought. She couldn't help but laugh at the sight.

"Don't worry, sir. I hear General Hammond will be back from his vacation tomorrow."

"And not a day too soon," he confided, though his remark hardly qualified as a confidence. His loathing of paperwork and administrative red tape was damn near legendary. "After two weeks of being stuck on base and playing CO, I'm looking forward to some nice off world mission where people just shoot at me instead demanding I sign everything in triplicate." He shuddered dramatically in emphasis.

She laughed again as she moved towards the doorway. "Don't worry, Colonel, I'm sure it can be arranged."

It wasn't until well after she had left his office that Jack realized he had never thought to ask her what kind of event he'd just bought tickets for.

He found out later that afternoon just precisely what he'd bought himself into.

"It's a WHAT?!"

"A masquerade ball, sir," his 2IC replied chirpily as she excavated another spoonful of Jell-O from her dish.

"A masquerade ball?" Jack squeaked. Yep, no way around that one. He definitely squeaked.

Jack had come to the commissary seeking sustenance (he couldn't bring himself to call it food; he knew food and food just didn't look like that) and a reprieve from the quarterly reports. He was still annoyed that Hammond's vacation just happened to fall right when the quarterly reports were due. It wasn't that he begrudged the General a vacation or anything. In fact, he knew quite well that Hammond hadn't taken a vacation in quite some time. But still...the timing was a little TOO convenient to be coincidental. Hammond's return from vacation and the quarterly reports being due on the same day? Oh yeah. He'd been set up. Big time. He couldn't help but think that this was a little bit of revenge for that whole laundry incident three months ago, but of course Hammond, he knew, would politely refrain from commenting. The man didn't make General by being stupid, after all. Jack sighed inwardly. He'd be on base all night finishing those damned reports.

"A masquerade ball?" he repeated, this time managing to keep his voice even.

"Yes sir," Carter confirmed with just a tad too much enthusiasm for Jack's taste. "Isn't it a wonderful idea? And since the annual charity even normally takes place around Halloween anyway it makes sense to take advantage of the holiday."

She took another bite of her brightly colored dessert. "It'll be so much fun," she continued her voice taking on a slightly dreamy quality. "A real masked ball, everyone coming incognito and then the grand unmasking at midnight. It'll be great," she concluded with a bright smile, uncannily like the one that Fraiser had flashed at him earlier that day.

His eyes narrowed. He'd bet dollars to doughnuts that his 2IC was in cahoots with the Doc over this little project. The two of them pretty devious when left to their own devices, but when they teamed up they were downright evil.

"I'm sure it will be," he responded. "You'll have to tell me all about after."

"Sir?" Carter queried, her eyes wide and her spoon held suspended between her dish and her mouth. "I don't understand. I thought you said you bought tickets?"

"I did buy tickets," he explained as patiently as he could through his annoyance at being blindsided by all this, "it's a good cause and I'm happy to contribute, but I have no intention of attending."

"But sir," she said, her voice rising slightly in concern, "You have to attend. If people buy tickets and then don't show, the event will be a failure. And Janet has worked so hard to put this together. She's done it almost single-handedly. You have to attend," she repeated with a shade of desperation creeping into her voice.

"Nope," he replied shaking his head. "I'll do a lot of things in the name of a good cause, but I am not wearing some costume to a masquerade ball and making a damned fool of myself in public."

Famous last words.

"You wanted to see me, General?" Jack asked, poking his head into the office of his now thankfully returned CO.

General Hammond smiled at his 2IC, radiating an air of relaxation that spoke louder than words regarding the benefits of his recent vacation. "Yes I did. Come in, Colonel. Have a seat," he concluded gesturing towards the empty chair facing the desk.

Jack walked in to the office and plopped a tad ungracefully into the chair, struggling desperately to stifle the yawn that was fighting its way to the surface. As Jack had predicted, he'd been stuck on base all night in order to complete the quarterly reviews and have them on Hammond's desk for signing by the time he'd arrived at the base. Jack had met the deadline, barely. Right now all he wanted was a cup of strong coffee and maybe a catnap on the cramped little sofa in his office if he could get away with it. But that was for later. For now, he needed to focus on the matter at hand.

"So, I take it you had a good vacation, sir?"

"Wonderful vacation, Colonel. Tessa and Kayla loved the dude ranch and frankly, I enjoyed spending a bit of time riding myself," the General explained with a fond smile.

Jack couldn't help but smile himself at that. It was actually kind of sweet that the General had taken his granddaughters to a dude ranch on his vacation. Not that he'd ever say such a thing, of course.

"And I see that you finished reviewing the quarterly reports in my absence. Well done," the General praised, though Jack was sure he saw a hint of wry amusement in those blue eyes regarding him from the other side of the desk.

"Glad to help out, sir. All in a good cause."

"Ah, speaking of good causes, that's actually the reason I called you in here in the first place, Colonel."

'Oh?'

"Oh?"

"I ran in to Dr. Fraiser this morning on my way in and she told me about the charity ball the Pediatric Diabetes Foundation is holding at the end of the month. I have to say it's a wonderful cause and it makes me proud to see a member of my command playing active role in a worthy charity."

"Yes, sir. It's a very worthy charity," Jack responded unthinking, still a bit sluggish from lack of sleep and dazed from making sense of budgetary reports well into the wee hours of the morning.

"I told Dr. Fraiser, I'd give her my full support in this. I think sometimes we get so wrapped up in events of intergalactic importance here that it's easy to lose sight of the important battles being waged right here on Earth on a daily basis. I think this would be an excellent opportunity for the personnel of the SGC to get involved in a good cause that didn't involve aliens, advanced technology and open warfare."

Jack sat up a bit straighter in his seat. Was the General saying what he thought he was saying?

"I told Dr. Fraiser that I would...encourage the personnel of this facility to participate in this charity event. Naturally I can't make it a direct order, but I think it is something that people should seriously consider," Hammond explained. He then gazed directly into Jack's eyes, pinning him to his seat. "I especially hope I can depend upon the senior members of this facility to set a good example by supporting this charitable event."

'Shit!'

"Yes sir," Jack responded, even as his brain searched frantically for a way out of the dead end he found himself being steered towards. "I already bought two tickets."

"Excellent! I'll look forward to seeing you there!" Hammond replied with a broad grin.

"Sir..." he began, but got no further.

"It's sure to be a lot of fun and a much needed release valve for our personnel," the General remarked, "and as a senior member of this facility, I'm sure you understand the importance of participating fully in this event. After all, if the senior staff don't attend, the junior staff might not either. Conversely, if the senior staff make the effort, I'm sure others will follow. I'm sure you understand what I'm saying, don't you, Jack?"

Jack made no mistake in thinking that the rather paternal use of his given name in any way made Hammond's words any less of an order. Hammond thought this was a good cause and it was up to the senior staff-Jack included-to set the tone.

"Yes sir," he replied wearily. "Loads of fun."

The funny thing was, once he'd had a bit of time to cool off and get over his initial annoyance at how easily he'd been bamboozled first by Doc Fraiser and then by the General, Jack had begun to reassess his resistance to this whole costume ball thing. While he was still less than keen on the prospect of dressing up and making an ass out of himself in public, at least he wouldn't be the only one. Misery loves company and all. But moreover, he'd begun to realize that this actually could be kinda fun, provided he had a partner in crime to share the fun. And he had just the partner in crime in mind.

He let that thought carry him through the day, keeping his pans to himself. This was a topic best broached off duty and off base.

By the time he reached his own front door, Jack was fairly bubbling with mischievous glee at the prospect of the fun that this little costume party presented. He opened the door and moved into the living room to be greeted by a sight that made his heart beat a little faster.

Daniel

Daniel was there, seated on the sofa, his bare feet resting on the coffee table with some oversized tome propped on his knees as he read, fully engrossed in some musty tale or obscure language, or in all likelihood, both.

Jack stood in the entranceway and just watched. The truth of the matter was, it wasn't the sight itself that warmed Jack so. Daniel had certainly clocked enough hours with his ass planted on Jack's sofa over the course of the past five years that the scene was familiar to the point of being downright mundane. Rather it was the context that made it special and added new meaning. Three months ago-OK, OK, three months, five days and a few hours spare change ago if you wanted to be precise, not that he was obsessing or anything-he and Daniel crossed the line from friends to lovers. Suddenly, everything had changed, every word and gesture held deeper meaning. Suddenly the image of Daniel nestled comfortably on his sofa with a big old book and a mug of tepid coffee spoke of an intimacy and warmth well beyond the boundaries of simple camaraderie. Daniel felt completely at ease here, safe and secure and always welcome. Although they'd never actually said the words, they both knew that Jack's house had become home to Daniel in all but name.

At times he resented the 'don't ask, don't tell' policy with something bordering on rage. More than anything, he wished that his house could become Daniel's home in every sense of the word and that they could drop the pretense that they were only friends. But in the end he knew that there wasn't any other choice, well, except for retirement. He knew that Daniel hated the hypocrisy of it as much as he did, that he disliked the lying and the secrets as much as Jack did, but in some ways it was easier for Daniel to cope. For all his apparent idealism, Daniel was surprisingly pragmatic in his day-to-day living. Jack supposed it was an inevitable side effect of growing up in foster care and always being a guest in other people's houses, a stranger to other people's customs and rules. Daniel had learned long ago to just roll with the punches, to make his own way and not waste his time and energy fussing over stupid rules he couldn't change and which he pretty much ignored, privately anyway.

In contrast, Jack knew he was a big old sappy romantic and always had been. He truly wished he could court Daniel, take him out and show him off. Unfortunately, he knew that it was impossible. A romantic meal at some cozy restaurant could quickly turn into a full blown disaster should they run into anyone from the SGC. Although the overall mood of the SGC was fairly tolerant, it was still a military facility and there was still a hell of a lot of homophobia and one could never be sure who might turn a blind eye and who might set in motion events that would lead to a full blown inquiry.

But here, in the privacy of Jack's house they could be themselves and leave the pretense behind. And in some ways, the restraint under which they operated publicly made their private time together that much sweeter and precious.

"Hey," Jack called softly.

Daniel looked up at the sound of Jack's voice. He offered a quick smile and a soft 'hey' of his own before returning his attention to the book in his lap.

Jack snorted in mild disgust. 'Well some thing don't change even after you start sleeping together. "Miss me?" he asked as he moved over to the sofa.

Daniel looked up again and rolled his eyes. "I just saw you, what, two hours ago? I'm fairly sure I can survive without you that long."

Jack snorted again. "I meant last night."

Daniel frowned as if in deep concentration. "You weren't here last night? Huh, how 'bout that."

Growling, he swatted lightly at the back of Daniel's head. "Cute, real cute."

"I try my best," Daniel shot back amiably, a slight smile twitching his lips upwards.

"So...whatcha reading?"

He could tell by the look in his eyes clearly that Daniel wasn't falling for Jack's 'casual' routine. He tried a more direct tact. "So, d'ya hear about Fraiser's little charity shindig?"

"Sure. Everybody on base has."

"So, you gonna go?" Jack asked.

"Of course. It sounds like a lot of fun, actually. And it is for a good cause. Can't go wrong really." Daniel explained as he picked up his mug to take a sip of coffee. He screwed his face up in distaste. Yep. Tepid coffee. Did he know his Daniel, or what?

"Soooo," Jack drawled "You got any ideas for a costume?"

Daniel gazed at him, that shrewd assessing look he got when he knew something was up. "I have a few ideas," he replied, his voice cool and level.

"'Cos I was thinking that maybe we could go together," Jack explained.

"Together? As in a date?"

Daniel was frowning. Not a good sign. "No, not a date, per se," he explained quickly. "I just thought maybe we could pair up, you know costume wise. It might be fun, ya know?"

"What did you have in mind?" Daniel asked his voice carrying a hint of suspicion.

"Oh I don't know, I though maybe the Lone Ranger and Tonto."

Daniel's frown deepened. OK, nix that one.

"Or maybe something like, I don't know, the Green Hornet and Kato?"

Daniel's frown deepened even further.

"Batman and Robin?"

Oooh, did somebody just turn down the thermostat because Jack could definitely feel a distinct chill in the air.

"So let me get this straight, Jack. You want me to play your...uh, sidekick? And my options are two politically incorrect characters based on offensive stereotypes of Native Americans and Asian Americans respectively and an underage cartoon character? Any other suggestions, say Ricky and Lucy, maybe? Or how about Rocky and Bullwinkle while we're at it."

'Ricky and Lucy! Hey, that is a good one,' Jack thought until he took in Daniel's current expression. 'OK, I'll be keeping that little observation to myself.'

"Aw, c'mon Daniel. It'd be fun."

"No thanks, Jack. I think I'll pass."

"Jeez, when did you become such a wet blanket?"

"Well, that would be right about the time you put forward the idea of dressing me in tights so I can spend an evening engaging in such memorable dialogue as "Holy priceless collection of Etruscan snoods, Batman."

"Killjoy."

"Bite me, Kemosabe."

"Alright, alright. No Dynamic Duos." Jack promised solemnly.

"Demented Duo more like," came Daniel's muttered reply.

"Daniel," Jack admonished.

"Sorry," Daniel responded with his most saccharine smile.

"So, you gonna clue me in on your brilliant ideas for a costume?" Jack asked trying to shift focus a bit.

"I never said they were brilliant and the answer is no."

"Why not?" Jack cajoled.

"Because that defeats the whole purpose of a masquerade, Jack. The identities of the attendees are supposed to be a surprise until the unveiling," Daniel explained with just the faintest hint of reproach. "Besides, I would think by now you would be able to pick me out of a crowd, even wearing a mask."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "Is that a challenge, Danny boy?"

"Perhaps," Daniel smiled a smile full of mischief.

"It goes both ways, Daniel," Jack responded, his voice as cool and smooth as silk.

"Oh, no problem there. I have no doubt I could find you in a crowd, Colonel mine."

"Cocky, aren't you?"

"You've never complained before now," Daniel rejoined.

Jack couldn't help but snort in amusement at that. "True enough. We'll just have to wait and see, won't we?"

"I guess so."

With a swiftness and skill that did his Special Ops training proud, Jack dove across the sofa, pinning the stunned archeologist beneath him, and knocking book and coffee mug alike to the floor. Trapping the other man's wrists in place above his head, he leaned in close and whispered seductively in Daniel's ear. "Well since I'm in the neighborhood, why don't I just check and see how cocky you really are, Dr. Jackson." Jack twitched his hips in emphasis.

Daniel shifted his thighs in response and wrapped one long leg around his captor's ass. "Well that's mighty neighborly of you Colonel," he responded, his voice a provocative drawl that never failed to get Jack's attention.

"C'mere you," Jack growled before capturing Daniel's mouth in a heady kiss. Forget about masks; Jack was certain he could identify Daniel by taste alone, sweet with the lingering bitterness of coffee, or by the scent of his skin, that hint of sandalwood soap, mixed with cologne and sweat and the musk of arousal, or simply by the softness of his lips as they gave and moved and molded against his own.

He could feel Daniel's body writhing beneath his own, rising up to meet his in a slow lazy rhythm. He knew that Daniel loved this, feeling the weight of Jack's body stretched out over his weighing him down, his hands pinned and held immobile. It was a game they played, restraint and submission, though in truth there was nothing submissive about Daniel either inside or outside of the bedroom. Jack might be on top but he knew with rock hard certainty that it was Daniel that controlled this particular game.

And speaking of rock hard...

Jack shifted his body, so his erection was aligned more fully with Daniel's and continued the slow, languid rocking. He knew they shouldn't take this any further, at least not while they were both still fully dressed on the sofa. His bed-their bed-was better suited to this particular game and nudity was certainly a prerequisite to the other activities that Jack had planned. But when he looked down into Daniel's face and saw that cool, enigmatic smile and the fierceness of that gaze, he knew he was helpless. Daniel was the one calling the shots here and he wouldn't have it any other way. So he maintained the light taunting rhythm, moving slowly against the other man, maintaining eye contact the entire time. He loved this, he truly did. He loved gazing down at Daniel, seeing his cheeks flushed with arousal, his full lips parted to expel soft breathy gasps, but most of all he loved his eyes, the way they held Jack's own, imperious, commanding yet tinged with need.

"Jack," Daniel said, his voice low and husky. "Clothes."

"Thought you'd never ask," Jack responded, his own voice raw with lust. He leaned in once more and ravaged Daniel's mouth with a bruising kiss before pulling away again.

"Stay," Jack ordered.

"What do I look like? A cocker spaniel?" he responded, a bit testily.

"Nah," he returned with a smug grin, "your hair's too short." Jack swept his eyes across the beautiful face, gazing at the blue eyes flashing challenge, the chin tipped upwards in defiance. "Stay," he repeated as he released his grip from Daniel's wrists and rose up on his knees to give himself some room to move.

"Woof!" Daniel scowled, his eyes blazing with a mixture of annoyance and intense lust.

Jack chuckled. "Lassie, come home!"

"Lassie?!" Daniel snarled in outrage. "Are you calling me a bitch? And I suggest you consider your answer very carefully since my knee is currently in close proximity to the O'Neill family jewels."

"Course not!" he protested. "I wouldn't dream of such a thing. Besides, everyone knows Lassie was played by a male dog," Jack concluded with a hint of self-satisfaction at his deft escape from the potential wrath of Danny.

"Ah," Daniel responded, his tone distinctly chilly. "Well, comparing me to a transsexual canine is much better. Thanks for the flattery, Jack."

He was about to retaliate when he caught the gleam of mischief in Daniel's eye and the slight upturn of his lips. 'The snarky little shit,' he thought wryly. 'Is it any wonder I'm crazy about the boy?'

"OK, if you don't like 'stay,' how about 'heel?'"

Daniel just glared at him in return.

For all his seeming rebelliousness, Jack knew Daniel would remain firmly in place as instructed. That too was part of the game. Daniel would obey his commands in this, knowing the pleasurable payoff that awaited him, though there was nothing that said he had to be polite about it. And the truth was, Jack wouldn't have it any other way. He found Daniel's snapping and sneering to be an incredible turn on; all that passion, all that fire, stoked and burning brightly just for him. He loved Daniel when he was feisty like this, challenging him, testing him at every turn. Daniel was never passive, never a mere spectator and that was especially true in their erotic play. Jack might be in the driver's seat, but Daniel always had a firm hand on the wheel, making the experience all the more pleasurable for the both of them.

Jack let his eyes roam over the man laid out beneath him. He needed to consider his options. Daniel, he knew, was a fan of the hard, fast fuck, not that Jack had any qualms about indulging that particular taste. He enjoyed it every bit as much as Daniel did. But Jack was thinking that the situation called for something a bit more measured, a nice slow build up, building the arousal by degrees until Daniel lost control and submitted completely to his own desire. He gazed into Daniel's eyes once more, seeing the fire burning there, searing through him, setting him alight.

But first he needed to lower the temperature before they both exploded.

Time to bank the fire.

And with that, he went into action. Giving Daniel his most wolfish smile, he leaned down, never once breaking eye contact. When he was mere inches from Daniel's mouth he hovered for a long moment, feeling Daniel's breath gusting softly against his own mouth, sensing Daniel's lips parting beneath his to welcome the kiss promised by Jack's approach. But instead of tasting of those inviting lips, Jack suddenly veered to the side, planting a soft, reverent kiss on Daniel's left wrist.

"Jack," Daniel groaned plaintively, his voice a mixture of disappointment, annoyance and heady lust as the full nature of Jack's game was revealed to him.

"Patience grasshopper," Jack murmured against the palm of the other man's hand, his tongue flickering out to trace the creases lining its center. "We're taking the scenic route tonight."

Daniel groaned in response, this time in anticipation. Jack's mouth shifted to Daniel's fingertips as he took each one into his mouth, nipping playfully before releasing it and moving on to its neighbor. When he finished, he turned his attention to the other hand, repeating the exercise, tracing the path from wrist to palm to fingers with the same mixture of playfulness and devotion while Daniel held himself to perfect stillness. Not too difficult so far, but Daniel's torment hadn't even begun.

Jack decided to up the ante a bit. Moving over, he nuzzled into the silken hair at Daniel's nape, then proceeded to slide his tongue up along the inside edge of Daniel's ear, then downwards along the outside before tugging on the delicate lobes with sharp, strong teeth. He stuck his tongue into the inner cavity, flicking it in and out in a mimicry of the act of love, then blew gently, the soft gust of breath eliciting a startled giggle from the other man.

'That's it, Daniel,' he thought, 'time to slow it down, change the mood a bit.'

Jack then moved unerringly to that spot just below Daniel's right ear that never failed to make him shiver and gasp. He kissed it softly, receiving the expected reaction. Instead of moving onward, however, Jack stayed at that place, biting the soft flesh, a quick sharp nip that made Daniel gasp, before he soothed it with his caressing tongue. He continued to assail the hot spot with lips and tongue and teeth until Daniel was writhing once more beneath him, his control slipping briefly in spite of himself.

"Jack," Daniel murmured, whether in pleasure or in protest over the erotic assault he couldn't be sure. It didn't matter; Jack wasn't even warmed up yet.

It never ceased to amaze him how sensitive Daniel was, how responsive his body could be to the lightest of touches. He was so sensual, so erotic, his body so finely tuned to the pleasures of the flesh. Yet he kept this secret carefully hidden behind a wall of reserve and professionalism. It thrilled Jack to no end that when they were alone the walls came down for him and him alone and Daniel could indulge fully in the more wanton aspects of his nature.

"Shhh, easy love," Jack murmured against the warm skin. He breathed deeply, reveling in the familiar scent of the man beneath him before making his way down the pale throat, placing kisses and quick, teasing nips in a random pattern. He flicked his tongue into the well at the base of Daniel's neck, then skimmed along the top of the collar bones before encountering the collar of Daniel's shirt.

'Too many clothes,' he thought to himself. 'I need to rectify this situation ASAP.' With that thought in mind, he began to unbutton the other man's shirt, kissing each bit of skin as it was revealed to him. Slowly and surely he worked his way down Daniel's torso, tugging the shirt out of his pants and pushing the fabric aside to expose his torso completely. Daniel's chest was laid out before him like a bare canvas waiting for the artist's hand. Jack rather liked that image and set about leaving his creative imprint upon the body of his eager and willing lover.

He moved across the exposed flesh, his hands stroking in long sweeping strokes as his lips blazed a trail down Daniel's body. Though there was fire in the caress of his lips and hands, he kept the rhythm slow and the touch light. Perhaps the artist analogy wasn't the correct one after all, Jack thought. Perhaps he was more akin to a maestro conducting an orchestra: building the arousal by slow degrees, playing the various parts of Daniel's body to create an exquisite symphony of pleasure before reaching a powerful crescendo of release. He smiled at the thought. 'I wonder if Daniel would think it was weird if I told him to call me Leonard Bernstein in bed? Probably.'

He moved upwards, making sure to hold his body just above Daniel's, close but not touching. He kissed one rosy nipple then bit down, worrying the nub of flesh between his teeth. He moved to the other one, teasing it erect in the same manner. He continued the languid exploration, mapping the planes of muscle of Daniel's belly, running his tongue along the rim of his navel then dipping it inside, causing the younger man to giggle and shift his body protectively before he remembered he wasn't allowed to move.

Jack continued his ministrations, moving to lathe the faint silvery scar left behind by his appendectomy, paying homage with lips and tongue to every scar upon Daniel's body. This was something he'd learned from Daniel, this act of reverence, this worship of every hard won scar and mark. Daniel said they were signs of who Jack was, of what he'd endured and survived. They weren't physical imperfections; they were his badges of honor and strength and Daniel loved and admired him all the more because of them. It went both ways and Jack himself quite enjoyed paying his respects to each and every one of Daniel's own scars, a mute testament of what he had been through in the years they had known one another.

He could feel the faint tremors of anticipation coursing through Daniel's body as Jack explored his body. Daniel was struggling desperately to hold himself to perfect stillness to hold onto his last vestiges of control in the face of Jack's determined erotic foray. Daniel's eyes were still upon him, hungry, commanding, defiant, but he was biting his lip and his breath was beginning to rasp. 'Better and better," Jack thought smugly. 'Time to move things down below the equator.'

With the greatest of care, Jack unbuckled Daniel's belt then pulled it ever so slowly from around the other man's waist in a long, sinuous move before tossing it to the floor. He then unbuttoned the trousers and using the same slow motion, pulled the tab of the zipper downwards one tooth at a time. When he tugged at the waistband, Daniel obligingly lifted his ass to allow for the removal of the now constraining and completely unnecessary article of clothing. Jack could see the faint wet spot on the cotton boxers from the pre-cum already gathering on the tip of the other man's cock as he hooked his thumbs under the elastic of the shorts and removed them, oh so slowly, letting the fabric graze across the surface of Daniel's erect cock causing him to gasp in response.

Soon the shorts had joined the belt and the trousers in a puddle on the floor and Jack could sit back on his heels for a second and just admire the view. This was something Jack was quite sure he would never tire of seeing, Daniel's naked body spread out for his delectation, willing and wanton and so fucking beautiful Jack thought he might explode. He admired the smooth skin of his chest, the hard curves of muscle, the taut planes of his belly. His eyes took in the soft fur of his legs, the jut of his hipbone and of course the hard cock, standing rosy and weeping in the nest of reddish curls. He gazed once more into Daniel's eyes reading the lust burning there and returned to his ministrations, working his way slowly from ankle to hip with playful grazing strokes of his fingers and the fleeting touch of lips. Daniel shifted his legs apart to allow Jack to plant soft kisses along the smooth, soft flesh of his inner thighs, bucking upwards when Jack bit down on the tender flesh. Jack made his way up one leg and down the other, all the while giving a wide berth to the throbbing erection begging for attention.

Daniel's eyes were now hazy with desire and soft moans were emanating from that beautiful mouth. Daniel was completely insensate with desire and Jack knew the time had come to bring the game to a close for both their sakes.

While Jack always enjoyed the 'clothing optional' portion of their time together, he much preferred the 'nudity required' portion. With the speed he had learned in Special Ops, Jack shucked off his own clothes until he was as naked as Daniel. In fact, he was more naked than Daniel who still wore his button down shirt. For a moment he thought about telling Daniel to sit up so he could remove it but then he changed his mind. The front of the shirt was wide open and the sleeves were rolled up, exposing lots of bare flesh. Besides, the image of Daniel completely naked except for his gray cotton shirt was deeply arousing for reasons Jack couldn't even begin to explain but would enjoy, nonetheless.

Jack stretched out the full length of Daniel's body hearing the other man gasp as skin met overly sensitized skin, feeling the warmth of the sweat-dewed body beneath his own. A thrill of anticipation raced through Jack's body at this first contact of their bodies free of any and all barriers. No, he would never get enough of this.

Daniel shifted beneath him, spreading his legs to allow Jack to settle between them. He reached up and slid his hands up along Daniel's bare chest, up cotton covered arms, up the smooth skin of his lower arms before resting his hands flat along Daniel's upturned ones. They rested there, palm to palm, then Jack interlaced their fingers feeling the younger man's hands grasping his own, accepting the token restraint without hesitation. Jack leaned down and finally took that beautiful mouth once more, ravaging it and offering up his own in return.

The kiss was fierce and hungry at first until Jack gentled it, turning it sweet and soft and achingly tender. He moved his hips slightly to bring their cocks into closer alignment, making Daniel gasp anew. Jack swallowed it, taking the sound of desperate need into his own mouth, replacing it with a soft moan of pleasure as he began to move against Daniel's body. Rocking his hips once more, Jack adopted the same languid rhythm he had set when they first began the game, drawing it out, wanting to make the pleasure last as long as possible. He felt Daniel relax once more beneath him, sinking into the taunting, teasing movement as he submitted himself and allowed Jack to take complete control.

Hands clasped together, they kissed and moved and blurred together. It was so good, so dizzyingly, mind-numbingly wonderful. Their bodies undulated, Jack pressing downwards, Daniel bucking up to meet him in their slow, lazy fuck, moans and sighs filling the room along with the sharp musk of arousal. Finally, they could take no more and their bodies began to move more urgently and the sounds became fiercer and more guttural.

Jack could feel the exquisite tightening in his balls and he knew that climax was almost upon him. He looked down at Daniel's face, flushed and sweaty and so incredibly radiant he felt his heart lurch. Their eyes met and held. Daniel's were nearly black with desire and Jack was sure his were the same as the passion raced through him.

"Come for me, Daniel," Jack murmured, his voice low and raspy and full of need. "Come for me now."

He didn't know if it was the words themselves, or simply the sound of his voice that was the catalyst, but it didn't really matter. Daniel came, his cry of Jack's name echoing off the walls. The sight of Daniel's face as he came, the sound of his cry, the warmth of his come splattering across his belly triggered Jack's own climax and he came with a deep, shuddering moan before collapsing on to Daniel's body, lying there gasping until the aftershocks of pleasure slowed and dissipated. He finally came back to himself, releasing the tight grip he had on Daniel's hands. He gazed down at Daniel's sated, glowing face and smiled. He was trying for mischevious, but he suspected it was closer to doting, but he didn't care. He was happy, Daniel was obviously happy, and a good time was had by all.

He cradled Daniel's face with his palms and kissed him deeply and Daniel responded in kind. "Now that is cocky!" Jack explained when he finally liberated his lips from the oxygen-depriving kiss.

Daniel chuckled, the sound slightly breathless and damnably hot. "You'll get no argument from me. Come on, lets hit the shower," Daniel offered.

Jack rolled off the sofa and onto his feet, reaching down to pull Daniel up along with him. "Whatever you say, Lassie," he responded, giving Daniel his most rakish smile.

"Unless you want to get shoved head first into the toilet, I suggest you knock off the Lassie jokes, Timmy," Daniel retorted with equanimity as he turned and sauntered in the direction of the bathroom, back straight, head held high, pert ass swaying hypnotically as he walked.

Jack stood for a second admiring the view. 'Woof, indeed,' he thought before following his snarky, snippy and oh so sexy lover down the hallway and into the awaiting shower.

For once, the SGC was enjoying a relative period of calm. No major crises, no mutant viruses, no funky aliens trying to take over the planet, no delayed shipments of coffee causing one strung out, caffeine deprived archeologist to forage frantically through the labs and offices looking for a fix. Even SG-1, the designated 'whumpees' of the SGC had had nothing but routine missions of late and had clocked zero hours in the infirmary.

Given the lack of interesting events of an intergalactic nature and the surprising dearth of juicy gossip of the interpersonal nature-well apart from the rumor that Sergeant Reid did something unspeakable to a certain part of the anatomy of Airman Fielding one night at Clyde's Bar when he asked if she was a natural blond and could he check-the only topic of discussion on base was the rapidly approaching charity gala. From the sound of things, virtually everyone on base would be in attendance and anticipation was running high as people swapped ideas for costumes, some serious, some truly outrageous.

The one person who refused to participate in that aspect of the discussion was Daniel. He was adamant that the point of a masquerade was to be incognito, to enjoy the evening while in disguise and completely removed from one's workaday persona. What's the point of wearing a costume if you're not really into the part you're playing, he'd remark

Jack had to admit that there was a certain logic to Daniel's observations, but at the same time, his continuing reticence was driving Jack nuts. He was dying of curiosity and Daniel seemed to be lapping it up, smiling that knowing, inscrutable smile that would put the Mona Lisa to shame. Over the course of two weeks, Jack tried repeatedly to get Daniel to spill the beans about his costume for the upcoming charity gala. He badgered, cajoled, wheedled, threatened and harassed. He taunted and teased and made sultry, provocative promises, but Daniel remained obdurate, as always. "You'll see," was Daniel's one and only comment on the subject.

There was one other way to gain the intelligence he sought, of course. He had a spare key to Daniel's apartment, after all. It would be a simple matter to slip in one evening when Daniel was working late, take a peek in his closet, and...

He squashed that thought down the second it appeared, knowing full well he would never act on it. Daniel was a private person, even more private than Jack himself in a lot of ways and Jack respected that. He wouldn't take advantage of Daniel's trust that way just to satisfy a whim, even if it was driving him nutso. But hey, driving Jack nuts seemed to be Daniel's primary goal in life anyway, so he guessed all he could do was wait. As Daniel had pointed out, he'd find out soon enough.

Jack had been so pre-occupied with trying to uncover Daniel's choice of costume, that Jack hadn't really given much thought to his own. Daniel, no doubt, would say it was all an avoidance tactic; Jack hated looking like a fool, so he procrastinated about picking out a costume for the gala. Jack staunchly refused to think about how accurate Daniel's assessment really was,

So it was that Jack found himself at the American Costume Company in Denver, wandering the store and looking for something to wear. The pickings were a bit slim, though that was hardly a surprise given that he'd waited until four days before Halloween to actually find a costume. He trawled the racks, occasionally pulling something out, making a face and then shoving it back into place. It probably would have helped if he'd come with some ideas in mind, but then again if you're gonna do the whole avoidance thing you might as well do it all the way.

He plucked another costume at random. 'Hmm, Davy Crockett,' Jack thought as he examined the suede tunic and trousers and the 'coon skin cap. 'The King of the wild Frontier has possibilities.' He looked at the tag on the inside of the collar and frowned. 'Wrong size, dammit,' he scowled as he shoved it back into place.

As he did his fingers encountered something soft. 'Velvet,' his mind supplied and out of curiosity, and maybe a touch of desperation, he pulled it out for inspection. It was velvet, alright, a rich deep wine colored velvet...frock coat. The knee length coat was sumptuous complete with big silver buttons, silver braid trim and an accompanying shirt with lace collar and cuffs.

His first thought was 'Hell no,' and he quickly moved to put the it back on the rack before anyone saw he was even touching it, but he stopped just as suddenly as another idea came to him, or more precisely, Daniel's idea came to him. He could hear Daniel's voice echoing through his mind: 'Oh, no problem there. I have no doubt I could find you in a crowd, Colonel mine.' It had been a playful challenge that the other man tossed at him, a casual, throwaway dare that neither man had really taken seriously at the time, being far more interested in getting naked and horizontal. But as Jack stared at the item in his hand, a wicked idea began to form. This was the last thing Daniel, or anyone else for that matter, would expect him to wear to the party. It was too fussy, too fastidious, and if he was being perfectly honest, too feminine for he personal tastes. But hadn't Daniel been harping on the fact that you were supposed to be someone different from who you normally were? Sure there might be some embarrassment if someone else, like say Ferretti, called him on it, but it would be worth it just to see Daniel's shocked expression when he finally removed his mask. And if anyone did hassle him, he'd simply say he'd waited too long and couldn't find a more suitable costume. And as he gazed at the depleted racks surrounding him, he knew that it wasn't even a lie.

With a broad, devilish smile, Jack snared the various parts of his costume and made his way to the dressing room.

Halloween had finally arrived and with it the long awaited and, surprisingly enough, much anticipated charity masquerade ball. He had to hand it to Hammond; the old man had been right about this whole party thing being a good idea from a morale point of view. Things had been rough of late at the SGC what with all the political crap going on with Simmons and Kinsey and their ilk, not to mention the rise of a powerful new mystery Snakehead hiding in the wings, one with enough firepower to take down the Tollans and clever enough nearly to circumnavigate the Asgard Protected Planets Treaty. There were times when it felt to Jack like they were fighting a war on two fronts, with the Goa'ulds and other nasties out there and the equally slimy power mongers right here on Earth, and as any good soldier knew you couldn't fight an enemy while another one was throwing daggers at your back. Considering all the stress and worry permeating the SGC of late, a little frivolous, wholesome fun was exactly what the doctor ordered.

And speaking of the doctor, Jack had to admit old Doc Fraiser had done good. Damned good, as a matter of fact The party was hopping, people were laughing and really enjoying themselves, but best of all her little shindig had raised nearly $30,000 for a damned good cause. Not bad. No, not bad at all.

At present, Jack was more of a spectator than an actual participant in events because his own entertainment portion of the evening had not yet arrived. He had made a point of arriving early so that he could check out the crowds and find himself a good perch from which to surveille the large and fairly boisterous crowd. Thus far there was no sign of Daniel, of that he was sure. He had studied the attendees quite closely and no one present could possibly be Daniel, even in disguise. He wasn't surprised that Daniel hadn't arrived as yet; the Spacemonkey had always been a bit of a 'fashionably late' kinda guy and Jack would bet just anything given the intense secrecy on the subject of his costume that his snarky linguist would be making a grand entrance.

Jack stood at the far side of the room in a spot that afforded him a more or less unimpeded view of the entrance and the low staircase that led down to the dance floor. Although Daniel was yet to make an appearance, Jack had identified several SGC personnel amidst the revelers. There could be no mistaking Hammond dressed as John Dillinger, a violin case carrying his 'piece' tucked under his arm. He had to admit that pinstripes really suited the General. In a hysterical role reversal, it was Teal'c playing General tonight, specifically General MacArthur, complete with aviator shades and corncob pipe. His monotone "I shall return," had cracked him up, reminding Jack more of Arnold Schwartzenegger as the Terminator than the military genius who had dominated the Pacific theater in World War II. He had instantly recognized Carter in her get-up as Joan of Arc as well. He only hoped she was taking it easy on the punch. He had a feeling getting out of that armor to go to the 'Little Majors' room might be a bit of a challenge.

But the prize thus far, at least in Jack's opinion, had to go to Doc Fraiser who had come dressed as none other than Napoleon himself. Lord knows she had both the stature and the attitude to carry it off, though it did raise suspicions in Jack's mind that this particular outfit actually hung in her closet on a permanent basis and that she pulled it out anytime she needed to practice her whole 'Napoleonic power monger routine,' i.e., about once a week. But having a well-developed survival sense, Jack decided to keep that observation to himself. Permanently.

Jack took another sip of his punch and tugged slightly at the lace collar that was scratching slightly at the back of his neck. 'How the hell did anyone ever wear this stuff in real life?' he asked himself. Despite the mild discomfort of his clothing, he was secretly pleased that his gambit had worked exactly as planned. Not a single person from the SGC that he had spoken to had been able to divine his identity. After much wheedling, he had finally acquiesced and flipped off the silver lamé mask covering the top half of his face for Carter's benefit, eliciting a surprised "Holy Hannah!" from his 2IC. She had been completely surprised and more than a little complementary about his appearance.

"Wow, sir! You look great!" Obviously noting the sardonic twist to his lips she repeated, "No sir, really. You really look great. Amazing actually. I would never have suspected to see you dressed up as an eighteenth century nobleman, but it's a good look for you, sir. A really good look," she'd added with a wink and a dreadful mock leer.

"Hey, hey!" he'd mock protested in return. "None of that now, or I'll have to burn you at the stake myself. And aren't you supposed to be a saint or something? That doesn't sound like a very saint-like remark to me, Joan," he asked, knowing full well that Joan of Arc had been canonized but having no desire to dredge up his Catholic school education when they were all enjoying themselves.

"Well, if I'm going to be burned as a heretic anyway, I might as well have a little fun first, right? And speaking of which, I think I need to get a little more punch and then I promised a dance to Bozo the Clown over there," she said gesturing in the direction of the figure with the bright red nose.

'Ah yes, Ferretti.' Jack identified him privately. 'I don't think I'll be hearing anything from HIM about my costume tomorrow,' he thought in amusement. Apparently Jack hadn't been the last one to select a costume for the party after all.

Jack waved to his 2IC as she clanked her way over to the refreshment table, barely missing being knocked over by Friar Tuck and a giggling pixie as they swept their way across the dance floor.

Although Jack's primary goal in selecting this costume was to take Daniel by surprise, he had to agree with Carter's assessment that he did look damned good. The velvet frock coat and underlying brocade waistcoat molded to his torso, accentuating, rather than hiding his build and the matching breeches and stockings showed off what Daniel had always said were a damned fine pair of legs. And as for the powdered wig, well, he just figured it was a good preview for when Daniel finally did turn his hair completely gray for him.

He glanced at his watch, the one glaring anachronism in his outfit. It was nearly 2200 now. So where was Daniel?

His eyes scanned the room once more, sweeping across from the refreshment table, along the crowded dance floor and back to the entrance where a solitary figure stood. Jack gazed at the figure standing framed in the doorway, his body backlit by the soft light beyond. It was only when he suddenly gasped for air that he realized that he had quite literally forgotten how to breathe.

'Jesus Christ,' Jack swore to himself. 'Get Joan of Arc back over here and tell her to call the Pope because I'm having a religious experience here.'

It was Daniel, of that Jack had absolutely no doubt, but it was a Daniel Jack had never seen before, never even dreamed of, though he was sure that was going to change from now on. Dressed from head to toe in solid black, Daniel was a sight to behold. Jack let his eyes roam over the figure as he began to move down the stairs, taking in the polished
black boots, the black leather-dear God, leather!-pants obviously worn in to butter softness by the way they molded to Daniel's long legs, the black silk shirt open at the throat, the black leather gloves-more leather!-right up to the black silk head scarf covering his head and the top half of his face. 'Well, Daniel always did have a thing for bandanas,' he couldn't help but think.

And admire. Daniel was walking, no walking didn't quite describe the action; make that gliding, sauntering, slinking down the stairs with all the easy grace and purpose of a jungle cat. He was like a black panther, all tightly coiled power, a predator searching for prey or challenge and Jack suspected that he was intended to be both tonight. He felt his mouth go dry and his palms begin to sweat at this intensely provocative and deeply arousing sight.

As Daniel moved closer, Jack could see the details more clearly, noting how the severity of the black clothing was only relieved by the pale skin on his face and throat and the sullen gleam of the rapier at his side. Jack thought he could just make out the blue fire of Daniel's eyes flashing behind the mask, though that could have been Jack's imagination. That, and the fact that his own eyes were riveted to the other man. Jack couldn't seem to look away, though in truth he had no desire whatsoever to do so. And he got the distinct impression that the feeling was mutual. Daniel was moving unerringly towards him, no hesitation, no pause, no deviation. Jack felt his heart pounding in his chest in anticipation and he had remind himself-and certain rather insistent and willful parts of his anatomy-that they were in a public place that included dozens of people they knew. 'Behave,' he told himself. 'Save it for later.' Hmm, later. Had any word ever held such promise?

He watched entranced as Daniel made his way across the dance floor, admiring the way the silk of his shirt flowed and rippled across his chest as he moved, seeing how the leather of his pants molded and flexed around firm, muscular thighs, the way his arms hung easily at his sides, the way his hips swayed ever so slightly as he walked directly to where Jack stood.

Suddenly they were standing face to face, a little more than a foot apart. Even with the scarf covering much of his face, Jack could almost see the sardonic arch of Daniel's eyebrow matching the amused, wry twitch of his lips. Jack couldn't help but smile in return. 'Daniel was right,' he thought, 'we really could pick one another out a crowd, even masked.'

They stood there staring at one another for a long moment before Jack finally broke the silence. "So, Zorro, we meet at last."

Daniel's lips quirked upwards even more. "We meet indeed, Vicomte." Daniel responded with a gravity to his voice that was belied by the mischief dancing in his eyes.

"So Zorro," Jack drawled, "Is that a rapier you've got there or are you just glad to see me?"

Daniel chuckled, a rich, throaty sound that Jack loved to hear. "Best be careful Vicomte," Daniel purred. "My rapier is very sharp and its got your name written all over it. Be careful I don't prick you with it."

"Prick you say," Jack answered, his voice low and husky. "I like the sound of that."

"I think you'll like the feel of it even more."

"Is that a threat, or a promise Señor Zorro?" Jack asked, his voice low and provocative.

"You should know by now, Vicomte, that I never make a threat unless I fully indeed to follow through," Daniel retorted, in that husky, smoky tone that always made Jack hard. "And you can take that as a promise."

"Hmmm," Jack said his smile taking on a wonderfully filthy quality. "I can't wait to become more...intimately acquainted with you rapier, Zorro."

"I'm looking forward to it myself, Vicomte." Daniel returned with a smile every bit as lascivious as Jack's own. "I think you'll find I'm quite...skillful with my rapier. I've been practicing with it quite a bit of late."

"Well, you know what they say about practice making perfect." Jack replied. "I'm all for perfecting one's skills, you know. Perhaps you'd be willing to show me your technique? Maybe give me a demonstration, a little one-on-one training?

"Hands on practice?" Daniel quipped, his eyes burning directly into Jack's, the hunger within them so palpable Jack could feel his own temperature rise.

"Oh, absolutely. I can't wait to see your rapier in action, Zorro," he responded, holding the gaze.

"Can't wait to show you, Vicomte."

Suddenly the music flared. The band had begun a new set, and the sound had jolted both men out of their erotic tête-à-tête, dragging them back into the world around them. Daniel glanced around, his eyes taking in the decorations and the groups of brightly clad people milling about, laughing, talking, dancing, as if noticing them for the first time. 'Maybe he is,' Jack thought, realizing that he hadn't noticed much of anything himself since Daniel made his entrance either.

"Perhaps we should table this discussion until later?" Daniel offered, licking his lips and casting another flickering glance at the people swirling just behind him.

"We could slip out now?" Jack offered hopefully.

Daniel shook his head. "No we can't. I just got here. It would be too suspicious if I just turned around and left."

Jack sighed, knowing Daniel was right, as always. He wanted nothing more than to slip away with Daniel in tow and go home and then let Daniel do all kinds of wonderful, wanton, wicked things to his oh, so willing body, but it wouldn't be prudent. That didn't mean, however, that they had to stay here all night.

"One hour." Jack said gazing meaningfully at Daniel.

Daniel nodded and then moved away, making his way towards the refreshment table while Jack surreptitiously watched his leather clad ass move away at a languid pace.

The next hour was interminable as Jack watched Daniel circulating through the crowd, chatting with various people. He saw him dance with several guests, including a rather buxom Maid Marian, a wispy Vampira, and an exuberant, ebulliant young woman dressed like Minnie Mouse. He even danced with Napoleon herself, who, Jack couldn't help but note, actually patted Daniel on his leather-clad rump at the end of the dance.

Although Jack was anxious to leave and be alone with Daniel someplace private, he had to admit there was a certain appeal to watching him like this in a public place. He derived a kind of illicit thrill as he watched his lover with covetous eyes, studying, watching as he circulated through the crowd of brightly garbed revelers like a lithe, black shadow. Jack had adjourned to a relatively quiet corner as far away from the band as possible that offered him an expansive view of the room. He watched as Daniel moved, admiring his lean, sleek form, imagining the play of muscles beneath leather and silk. They had looked at one another, they had talked, but they hadn't touched. Not yet. And Jack was looking forward to having the privilege to slide his hands along silk draped biceps and to cup that leather encased ass. Although he intended to give Janet hell tomorrow about feeling up his archeologist, he couldn't really blame her for giving into the temptation to touch. The only thing that had allowed Jack to maintain his restraint was the knowledge that he would soon be able to touch and caress at leisure.

He felt himself growing hard just at the thought of being alone with Daniel and slowly, languorously removing his clothes, piece by piece. He glanced once again at his watch. 2300 hours. Time to blow this pop stand and hopefully blow something else as well. He scanned the room once more, though it was hardly necessary, he knew exactly where Daniel was, almost is if by instinct. Daniel was talking to a couple of people Jack didn't recognize, despite the masks. 'Not SGC personnel then,' he thought, 'that'll make the extraction easier.'

He watched the group waiting until Daniel glanced in his direction. He didn't have to wait long; Daniel had been as fixated on his presence as he was on the other man. Their eyes met and Jack very casually flipped back one lace cuff, exposing his watch which he then tapped lightly with his finger while giving Daniel a meaningful look.

Daniel nodded in understanding then turned to his companions, no doubt giving his excuses. Jack was already making his way the entrance, moving as slowly as he could manage with the anticipation coiling in his belly. He knew Daniel would be following shortly. Before long he had exited the hotel where the ball was being held. He handed the plastic tag to the attendant who went in search of his truck. Standing there in the chill of a late October evening, Jack knew immediately that someone else was standing next to him just as he knew that the someone in question was Daniel. He turned his head to look at the other man, and smiled. 'My place?' he mouthed to Daniel who had to be freezing his nuts off wearing nothing but the thin silk shirt. Daniel nodded and Jack turned away, just as the attendant pulled up in his truck and offered him the keys. Jack pulled away from the curb and made his way to the house with all due haste, knowing Daniel was only a few moments behind him.

Jack drove as quickly as prudence allowed, firmly keeping in mind that this was a holiday and a rather boisterous one at that. The last thing he needed was to be pulled over for speeding by some over-zealous cop, or worse to wind up in a wreck with some drunken party-goer. So he balanced caution with speed, still making good time back to his house. He fairly leapt from the car and dashed up the steps, anticipation and simmering lust fueling his tightly strung body.

He knew he didn't have long before Daniel arrived so he moved quickly through the house making preparations. He turned on a lamp in the living room and another in the bedroom, turning down the covers on the bed and checking to be sure the lube was in its place in the nightstand drawer. He dashed back into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of Merlot from the counter, pouring two glasses of wine. Although he would have preferred a beer on any other occasion, the evening demanded something more romantic.

Jack had just returned to the living room, wineglasses in hand, when he heard the unmistakable sound of a key jiggling in a lock. A moment later, Daniel fairly burst through the door. They gazed at one another across the foyer for a long moment before Daniel closed and locked the door emphatically behind him.

"Vicomte," Daniel said in his throaty purr. Jack felt a shiver of excitement race up his spine.

"Care for some refreshment, Zorro? I think we'll be needing to keep our strength up for the um, hands on instruction you promised."

Daniel crossed the distance between them in slow, measured steps, gazing directly into Jack's eyes the entire time. Another frisson passed through Jack's body. "Thank you," he murmured once he reached his destination. They clinked glasses softly then each took a sip of wine. Jack felt the rich, heady liquid slide down his throat, but it was nowhere near as intoxicating as the man who now stood before him gazing at him, devouring him with his eyes.

Daniel took a second sip of wine, then moved in to kiss Jack, sliding his free hand behind Jack's neck, pulling him close. Jack parted his lips in invitation as Daniel's mouth descended. He felt the slow glide of wine down his throat as the liquid from Daniel's mouth was transferred to his own, along with the questing tongue. The kiss was long and slow and deep and their bodies moved closer in response. Daniel's free hand was still cupping the back of his neck, his fingers lightly massaging his nape, while Jack's free hand slid around Daniel's waist and moved to slide up the younger man's back. At last Jack could revel in touch, feeling the fluid texture of silk, still chilled from the cold night air, but warming to the skin beneath. He thrilled at the contrast between the softness of the fabric and the hard muscle it covered and cursed that he had but one hand free to explore.

He broke off the kiss then, though it took some effort. Daniel looked mildly surprised but understanding lit his eyes as Jack took his wine glass and placed them both on the coffee table before returning to the arms of his lover.

"Now, where were we?" Jack asked rhetorically as he leaned in once more, letting Daniel take his mouth in a hungry kiss. He felt the heat flare as they moved in closer and Jack immediately took advantage of having both hands free once more, his arms wrapping around Daniel once again. His hands roamed along the silken expanse of back, sliding from broad shoulders down to the tapering waist then down further still, noting the transition from silk to leather. He let both hands come to rest on Daniel's ass, kneading the firm flesh before using the grip to pull the other man tightly against his own body.

He heard Daniel groan into his mouth as their groins met and velvet rubbed against leather. For his part, Daniel had been anything but passive. His hands had been exploring as well though there were more barriers between Jack's skin and Daniel's inquisitive hands. Jack felt those hands slip beneath the now cumbersome frock coat to cup his own velvet encased ass, pulling them even closer. Now it was his turn to groan, trapped between Daniel's growing erection and his implacable hands.

The costume that had been uncomfortable before was now becoming almost unbearable. Now, however, it was not because of the scratchiness of the lace collar or the heaviness of the velvet frock coat, but rather the warmth of the fabric and the constriction of the breeches that made Jack want to tear off his clothes. Fortunately, there was absolutely no reason not to now.

Pulling himself almost reluctantly from the burning kiss, Jack plaster on his most lascivious smile and suggested in his filthiest voice, "Shall we retire to the boudoir, Zorro?"

Daniel laughed and Jack felt himself harden even more at the rich, throaty sound. "An excellent suggestion, Vicomte."

The trip to the bedroom was blessedly short. No sooner had they arrived then Jack moved in, to start removing the other man's clothes. Daniel, however, stopped him at once, raising a hand and taking a step backward. Jack gave him a puzzled look.

"I believe you wanted to see my rapier in action?" Daniel explained taking another two steps backwards until they perhaps four feet apart.

Jack shrugged inwardly. He didn't know the precise nature of the game Daniel was instigating here, but he was willing to go along. He trusted the other man completely so he surrendered control to his inventive lover.

"I seem to recall asking for a demonstration, yes," Jack acknowledged with a slight nod.

To his surprise, Daniel actually withdrew the rapier slung on his hip. Jack hadn't really paid any attention to it before now but then again between the leather and the silk and the mask, there had been so much to distract attention from what Jack assumed was a stock prop. Daniel held it now outstretched, the point bare inches from his chest and Jack could see that it was a beautiful thing, the long, slim blade topped by a hilt with an elaborate interlaced pattern. He couldn't help but notice the ease and grace with which Daniel held the blade, the line of his arm, the slight downwards tilt of his wrist. Jack shifted his gaze from the rapier to Daniel's face, noting the intense concentration, the slight, somehow cocky smile tracing his lips and the eyes that seemed to flash like blue fire from within the black mask.

Daniel held his gaze for a long, heart stopping moment and then, with a speed that Jack had never expected, Daniel flicked his wrist causing the blade to shift forward and snap off a silver button from his waistcoat. The button landed on the hardwood floor with a soft tinkling sound.

'Shit!'

"Shit, Danny! That's a real sword!" he exclaimed, stunned.

"Yes it is. Seventeenth century Castilian to be precise," he clarified before a deft twist of his wrist sent another button flying across the room to land with the same metallic sound. Daniel gazed at Jack, his eyes holding the other man, silently begging him to hold still, to keep to the rather unconventional game. It wasn't necessary; Jack trusted him, with his life and his heart. This was nothing by comparison.

"My mother collected swords, it was her great passion. Most of the swords in my collection were hers, including this one," he explained.

Another flick of the wrist, another button gone.

"She was quite a skilled swordswoman She fenced in college, she even took the regional title two years running."

Another flick of the wrist, another button gone

"I never saw her fence, of course, but I was intrigued, so I took it up in college myself. I never won any titles, but I developed a certain...knack."

Another flick of the wrist, another button gone.

Jack could see that. It was obvious in the way he held the blade, the skill and precision with which he wielded the thin sliver of metal. Although the blade was a hair's breath away from his chest, Jack felt nothing. Daniel clearly knew what he was doing. And it occurred to Jack that Daniel was doing more than playing a game here. He was opening up, sharing something intimate and deeply private about himself, offering up a bit of his personal history without hesitation, without any prompting on Jack's part.

"I can see that," Jack responded, letting his admiration for Daniel's obvious skill come through in his voice. "I never knew that you fenced."

"I haven't really kept up with it the way I should, but I try to practice whenever I can."

Another flick of the wrist, and now the last button was gone. The waistcoat hung open, revealing the thin white shirt beneath. Jack stood perfectly still, holding his breath and waiting for a sign from Daniel to signal the next phase of the game.

Daniel lowered the rapier, holding it comfortably at his side, his other hand resting lightly on his hip. Jack's mouth went dry at the sight. Daniel was watching him with hungry eyes and they stood like that for a long moment before Daniel gave his next command.

"Strip, Vicomte."

Well, Jack had no qualms about that. The clothes were getting damned uncomfortable and since nudity was pretty much required for all the wonderful things his mind was suggesting, he was more than happy to do his part to move things along.

Of course, nothing said he didn't get to play a bit, too.

Holding Daniel's commanding, imperious gaze, Jack began to ease the heavy velvet frock coat from his shoulders, shifting them languidly to work the article of clothing loose before letting it slide oh, so slowly from his body. He repeated the action with the now button-less waistcoat, letting it join the pool of velvet on the floor before turning his attention to the shirt. He removed the lace collar and then, with the greatest of deliberation, he began to unfasten the buttons holding the fabric in place, revealing more and more bare skin as his hands made a path from throat to belly.

He felt strangely erotic carrying out this little historical strip tease for Daniel's benefit. And clearly Daniel was benefiting, he thought, as the shirt dropped to the floor and he noticed the way Daniel's eyes had darkened with lust. He felt a curious sense of power as he held his lover immobile with his languorous movements. He'd never done this before, but given the results he seemed to be getting, he would be repeating the experiment. Again and often.

Still maintaining the gaze, Jack began to unbutton the breeches, even as he toed off his shoes. He slipped the breeches downward, his hands slowly manipulating the velvet down his thighs, and lower legs before he removed first the right and the then the left stocking. He was now completely naked but for the pair of cotton briefs he'd purchased expressly to wear beneath the clinging trousers. Still gazing at Daniel and offering him his most provocative smile, Jack hooked his thumbs beneath the elastic and pulled the garment from his hips and down his legs, kicking them off when the slipped to his ankles.

Jack now stood there, naked and erect, his clothing puddled about his ankles and allowed the fully clothed Daniel to devour him with his eyes.

"Come here, Vicomte," Daniel commanded, though there was no mistaking the slight quaver in his voice as he uttered the order.

Jack did as instructed, coming to rest before his willful lover who reached out and pulled him into a fierce embrace, ravaging his mouth with a desperate kiss. Jack moaned loudly as his bare chest slid against the silk of Daniel's shirt and his cock and thighs made contact with the leather of Daniel's trousers. The sensations were incredible and intensely erotic as his naked body began to move against Daniel's seeking further stimulation. His arms went about Daniel and his hands once more sought out that leather covered ass.

Daniel was doing his own share of moaning, his hips thrusting in a slow, shallow rhythm against Jack's, his cock straining against the pants that had now become a leather prison.. They moved against one another, the heat rising, blasting through them. Jack realized that they were moving too quickly. Time to slow things down.

He pulled away from Daniel's embrace, earning him a growl of frustration from the other man. Jack chuckled at the sound as he sauntered over to the bed and spread himself across it like a courtesan awaiting a lover. Giving Daniel his most provocative look and his filthiest smile he challenged, "I believe you mentioned something about 'pricking me with your rapier,' Señor Zorro. I believe I'd like to take you up on that threat," he purred. "Or was that a promise?"

Daniel stared at him, a wicked smile spreading across his face. "Well, I don't want to be seen as a man who breaks his promises, Vicomte," he replied as he began to remove his own clothing. He moved with all due haste and he was soon standing before the bed wearing nothing but his briefs and his mask. He reached up to unknot the scarf, but before he could remove it, he was interrupted by the sound of Jack's voice.

"Leave the mask on," Jack instructed.

Daniel's eyes widened in surprise and he smiled anew. "I had no idea you were so kinky, Vicomte," he replied in his smoky bedroom voice as he discarded his briefs.

"What can I say, you bring it out in me."

Now completely naked with the exception of the mask, Daniel dove onto the bed, rolling on top of his lover's eager body. "Well let's see what else I can bring out in you," Daniel teased.

"Actually, I'd rather see what you could put in me," Jack replied, tilting his hips suggestively.

Daniel gasped at the contact of cock against cock and he swooped in for another fierce kiss. The two men moved together, limbs entwined, their sweat-slickened bodies rolling back and forth, trading positions until Daniel was once more on top.

Daniel gazed down into the eyes of his lover. "Are you sure?" he asked. No matter how boisterous or bawdy their bedroom games got, this was one thing they never did without clear consent from both parties.

"Absolutely," Jack replied without hesitation as he reached downward and ran a fingertip along the aching length of Daniel's cock. "My, what a big rapier you have there, Señor Zorro," he crooned.

Daniel gasped then growled in response. "The better to fuck you with, Vicomte."

"Of that I have no doubt," Jack replied, stroking his hands up and down Daniel's back and exposed flanks.

Daniel reached over and opened the drawer of the nightstand, extricating the lube from its resting place. He squirted a liberal amount onto his palm, letting it warm to his skin before covering one finger. He kissed Jack, a passionate kiss that became tender and full of longing. He moved downwards then, kissing his way down the length of the other man's chest, pausing the nip and bite at the brown nipples along the way. When he reached the erect cock, he reverently kissed the weeping tip, making Jack's hips jerk slightly in response.

"Shush," he counseled, then flicked his tongue outwards to taste the pre-cum pearling on the tip. He let his lips slide down the shaft, even as his finger teased at the entrance to Jack's ass. Jack shifted his legs further apart, bending his knees to provide better access and to allow Daniel to settle between them. The finger, tickled and teased at the opening before probing and slipping in just to the first knuckle. Jack gasped and Daniel's finger went deeper, even as he took more of Jack into his mouth.

Daniel set up a slow, shallow rhythm as his probing finger matched the pace of his mouth on Jack's cock. He slipped a second finger inside and then a third, stretching and preparing the other man while he pleasured him with his talented mouth.

Jack was trying to hold himself still, no easy task between the suction of Daniel's mouth on his cock and the movement of his fingers jutting in and out and scraping against his prostate. Daniel finally placed his free hand on his hip to hold Jack in place since such calm was now beyond his ability. When Daniel removed his fingers and his mouth, Jack ached at the loss, even though he knew what was coming next. He lifted himself up on his elbows to watch his lover as he slicked his cock with lube.

Catching Jack's eye, Daniel began to slide his fist up and down his erection in slow, measured strokes, knowing from experience how Jack loved to watch him touching himself. Sinking back on his heels, Daniel moved his hand up and down his shaft, holding Jack's gaze the entire time. Daniel was truly a sight to see at moments like these, Jack thought to himself. Face flushed, a small secretive smile tracing his lips, the slight arch of his neck as he teased himself to the edge of pleasure and then held. Jack moaned at the sight, making Daniel smile even more broadly.

Having decided that he had teased enough, Daniel crawled up the length of his lover's body until they were once again eye to eye, mouth to mouth. He bent down and kissed the other man once more before lifting Jack's legs about his torso and positioning himself at Jack's entrance.

Jack breathed deeply, keeping his body relaxed as he awaited the intrusion. When it came it arrived as always with that thrill of excitement tinged with the slightest edge of pain that served to heighten the pleasure. Daniel slid inside him in one smooth stroke and they groaned in unison.

Daniel rested there a moment, reveling in the heat and tightness and allowing Jack to become fully accustomed to his presence before moving once more. He tried to maintain a slow, steady pace but Jack would have none of it. After the tease at the masquerade ball and the subsequent games, Jack had had enough of waiting. He wanted release and he wanted it now. And Daniel was most certainly coming with.

When Daniel pulled out and began his down stroke, Jack raised his hips to meet the thrust causing Daniel to groan at the intense sensation. Jack repeated the maneuver, again and again even as Daniel shifted his angle in search of Jack's prostate. On the next stroke, Daniel found it, his cock slamming against the sweet spot making Jack cry out in pleasure. Daniel held the angle, snapping his hips in counterpoint to Jack's own, nailing the prostate over and over until Jack was sure he would explode.

He could feel the tension coiling in his body and he knew that climax was imminent for both of them. Daniel was moaning and gasping and cursing now, a sure sign he was nearing completion. He felt Daniel's lube covered hand reach down and enclose his cock and Daniel pumped him furiously in time with their increasingly frenzied movements. Close, close, so close now...

And then it hit. Jack felt the tension clench, contract and then explode outwards, shattering him into a thousand pieces as climax tore through him. He was spurting across Daniel's hand and his own belly and he cried out in delirious joy.

"Daniel!"

As climax hit, Jack's anus tightened around Daniel's cock, the extra pressure all the catalyst needed to send him tumbling over the edge to join his lover. He cried out Jack's name and then collapsed on top of him, his body shaking and trembling with release as his vision grayed and blurred.

The cuddled together, a mass of tangled limbs as they basked in the afterglow. Daniel finally slipped out of Jack's body and then he leaned over and kissed him, a wonderfully sloppy, happy kiss before snuggling down against Jack's chest breathing in the wonderful smell of sex and Jack. Jack leaned down to place a soft kiss on Daniel's brow, laying his head back down as a chuckle rumbled through his chest.

Daniel looked up at the sound, his eyes asking the question.

"You were right Zorro. That's one hell of a rapier you got there. Anytime you wanna practice your technique, I got your sheath right here."

Daniel smiled and laughed as well, expelling a gust of breath, tickling the hair on Jack's chest. "I'm glad to hear that. Maybe you'll want to...um, cross swords again in the morning?"

"Well, you know me. I'm always up for a challenge."

"Well, I'll see what I can do about supplying one," Daniel promised earnestly.

They lay together like that for a long time, in the hushed stillness of the bedroom with Daniel snuggled against Jack's chest, feeling the other man's breath even and slow.

"Jack?" Daniel queried softly, not wanting to disturb his lover. "Jack?" he repeated. Receiving no response he knew the other man had already drifted off. Placing a soft kiss on Jack's forehead, Daniel carefully extricated himself from his lover's arms and then slid off the side of the bed and grabbed his leather trousers, fishing through the pockets looking for the item tucked away inside. He grinned as his questing fingers found the object he sought and he pulled it free. It was a small tube of black enamel trimmed with gilded metal that he had borrowed from Sam just for the occasion. Pulling off the top half, he twisted the bottom, bringing forth its contents. He then proceeded to use it to draw three swift strokes across the sleeping man's chest.

Daniel smiled broadly as he examined his handiwork, a large letter Z-the mark of Zorro-painted in bright red lipstick on his lover's chest, as a sign of his victory, his conquest and his devotion to Jack. Jack would kill him in the morning, of that he had no doubt, but right now it was so worth it. He removed his black silk mask and let it flutter to the floor to join the rest of his clothing strewn across the floor. Crawling back into bed Daniel turned out the bedside lamp and drifted off to sleep, with a thoroughly smug smile still playing on his lips.

Finis

Notes

This story was supposed to be a nice, fluffy little PWP to help me recuperate after the angstfest that was "No, Thank You, John." Unfortunately, the boys had other plans so they hijacked the fic midway and pretty much did what they darned well pleased with it. Sigh I am so glad I was supposed to be the author. This story is set in the "Laundry" universe. Although it makes some elliptical references to events from that series, it is a stand-alone. And for those of you who have been asking, Hughie, my psychotic, staff weapon toting, beer swilling, Ben & Jerry's scarfing plot bunny has been whispering things in my ear and suggesting that he might be inclined to help crank out another chapter in the "Laundry Cycle." We'll see. He's not the most reliable of plot bunnies, but he does have a way with fabric softener.

Big thanks to Anais for lobbing me this fun little bunny and to Spring for badgering me relentlessly about a certain article of clothing (OK, OK, I know. I started it!) that helped to prod this story along. And smooches to Pam. Thanks for the moral support, guys.

Oh, and Happy Halloween!