Rating: NC17, slash, Daniel/Paul, angst, romance, missing scene.

Spoilers/Warnings: Spoilers for 48 Hours. Warnings for bad language and sex.

Summary: Episode tag for "48 Hours"

Notes | Disclaimer

Paul looked his watch, squinting in the dim light of the plane's interior.

Three a.m.

Paul frowned and closed his eyes, his concentration frayed from too much stress and too little sleep. Was that DC time or Moscow? He honestly couldn't remember whether he had reset his watch or not in the haste to be debriefed and then get to the airstrip.

Everything had happened so fast, beginning with the call from the Join Chiefs' office. There had been an accident of some sort at the SGC, he was told, and somehow Teal'c had become trapped *inside* the Stargate. Two years ago Paul might have dismissed the statement as insane, but experience had taught him that *nothing* was impossible, not where the Stargate was concerned. Now he just held his tongue. The next thing he knew, he was on a jet bound for Moscow in the company of Daniel Jackson, the SGC's chosen representative.

Paul shook his head. At the time he'd thought Daniel a strange choice on the part of General Hammond, though he'd been privately relieved that it hadn't been Colonel O'Neill whose lack of diplomatic skills and distrust of the Russians were well known. As always, General Hammond had known what he was doing. In the end it hadn't been Paul's carefully crafted arguments or his blustering and threats that won the day. It hadn't even been the concessions that the US government had agreed to make. In the end, it was Daniel's earnest, impassioned plea in the name of friendship.

If he hadn't been a witness, Paul might not have believed it himself. He'd read enough mission reports and heard enough of the stories kicking around the halls of the SGC to know that Daniel had an uncanny knack with people. Not all of the time, of course. Paul knew that Daniel could be difficult and fractious, and he had managed to tick off quite a few people at the Pentagon due to his outspoken and often uncompromising manner. Paul himself had witnessed a few of the good doctor's tirades and they were truly a sight to behold. But when he really wanted to, Daniel could turn on the charm and the results were devastating, as Paul had just seen first hand. One minute Colonel Chekov had been regarding Daniel with thinly veiled hostility, unwilling to yield any more ground and then Daniel had just looked up at him, with wide and pleading eyes and said  "please." That was it. A single word, softly and earnestly spoken and Chekov had just...melted.

And now here they were, winging their way back to the SGC with a DHD and a Russian colonel in tow. He just hoped it wasn't too little, too late.

Paul looked at his watch again and tried to calculate just how many hours had passed since Teal'c had become trapped in the Stargate. He knew they had long since passed the forty-eight hour deadline proposed by McKay. At least twelve hours must have passed since then, factoring in the time it took to disconnect the DHD from the 'gate, as well as the subsequent packing, loading and transport. No, more than that, since they'd been in the air for at least four hours by now. Sixty-four hours then, maybe more.

Even if McKay was wrong and Major Carter was right and there was no deterioration to Teal'c's signature, Paul knew there was no guarantee that they would succeed in reintegrating Teal'c. All of this-the negotiations with the Russians, the consults with the Tok'ra, the frantic computer simulations being run at the SGC-might end up being for nothing. The Tok'ra had warned them of the danger of trying to hook up a DHD after the fact. It could trigger the reset mechanism on the gate as easily as an incoming wormhole could. And as for the claims of Adrian Conrad, or more accurately the Goa'uld that currently inhabited his body, well, Paul didn't think anyone completely trusted *anything* he had to say. But they had to take their shot. It was the only option they had.

Paul scrubbed his face with his hands. His eyes burned with fatigue and his entire body twanged with exhaustion. He'd been awake for close to three days straight, running on adrenalin and strong coffee and he was fast reaching the end of his reserves. He gazed over at his companions. Daniel and Colonel Chekov were both asleep and Paul knew he should follow suit but he was too tense, too wired from stress and anxiety and his mind simply refused to shut down. The mission had been a success, at least a qualified one. It hadn't been easy and, as expected, it hadn't come cheap, but they got what they came for and they still had Alaska, so surely that had to count as a victory. Still, Paul felt oddly restive.

He looked at Daniel curled up beneath a blanket in the seat across from his own. The cabin lights had been dimmed to allow them to sleep and Paul studied the other man's profile in the relative darkness. Daniel had removed his glasses and his head was tilted at an awkward angle. He would have a hell of a crick in his neck when he woke, but Paul was loathe to disturb him. Daniel had had a hell of a long day himself.

Paul continued to watch Daniel for a long time, his thoughts drifting into areas that were highly inappropriate, but hardly unfamiliar. There were times when Paul wondered about Daniel, times when he thought he saw something in Daniel's expression or body language; when he almost imagined that he heard a note of invitation in the other man's voice. But that was all it was: imagination, wishful thinking.

He'd lived with this a long time. It had begun innocently enough, with simple curiosity, tinged with admiration, but in time it mutated into something more, something deeper, sliding into the realm of mutual respect and eventually into a kind of friendship. Paul liked Daniel, he always had. Daniel was, well, interesting. He was brilliant and insightful. Of course, he could also be unreasonable, intractable and even a little arrogant. But even then he was always interesting. Paul had been drawn to Daniel from the start, drawn to his keen intellect and quirky humor. But increasingly he found himself drawn physically as well. The attraction that he had always felt but had never acted upon was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. Paul hated himself for feeling this way, for nursing a crush that could never be consummated.

Foolish.

Paul sighed, frustrated. He levered himself out of his seat and walked towards the rear of the cabin, careful not to disturb his companions. It felt good to move a little, even if it was to traverse the short distance from his seat to the bathroom. He slipped inside and closed the door behind him. Paul turned on the tap and bent over to splash some water on his face. The sting of the cold water brought his thoughts into focus again. He stood up and grabbed a paper towel to wipe his face. The overhead light gave his skin a sickly pallor that contrasted sharply with the dark growth of beard that was just beginning to shadow his face. He turned his head from side to side. He looked as haggard as he felt. Paul briefly thought about trying to find his razor, but then decided to wait until they were ready to land. He turned off the tap and opened the door to the bathroom. He should really try to get some sleep.

Just as Paul was about to exit the bathroom his path was blocked by another figure.

"Daniel!" he said, startled. His surprise was replaced by alarm, however, when he found himself pushed roughly backwards to collide against the wall of the bathroom stall

"Daniel! Wha...?" Paul began, but got no further as Daniel's mouth descended upon his. Paul's eyes went wide and for a moment he froze, stunned by the unexpected turn of events. Daniel's hands framed his face, his thumbs rough against Paul's jaw as he kissed Paul with a terrifying intensity. Paul tried to move but Daniel had his body wedged tightly into the space between the wall and the sink, effectively trapping him in place. Paul raised his hands finally and managed push Daniel away with enough force to break the kiss. He gazed at Daniel's flushed face in shock and more than a little anger.

"Daniel! What the hell are you doing?" he asked, his breath coming in small gasps. Paul closed his eyes for a moment, certain this was all some crazy, lust fuelled dream. When he opened them again, there would be no Daniel and Paul would be alone, just as he always was.

He opened his eyes again to the same tableau and Paul forgot to breathe.

Daniel's eyes were dark and intense as he gazed back at him and Paul shivered in spite of himself. "I'm doing something that I've wanted to do for a long time. Something you've wanted me to do for a long time."

Daniel moved in again, but this time Paul was ready for him and blocked his descent.

"Have you lost your senses?" he hissed at Daniel.

Daniel shook his head. "No," he said, his voice rough with lust, or perhaps desperation, "I've finally come to them."

Paul stared at him uncomprehending.

"Don't you see? Nothing is certain. Nothing is safe. No matter how hard you try to hold on to things, it all goes away," he said, a thread of what sounded like fear creeping into his voice which bewildered Paul all the more.

"I don't understand, Daniel."

"Teal'c," he offered by way of explanation. "One minute he was there and now, now he's trapped and maybe he's gone forever. No second chances, no reprieves. I don't want that. I'm tired of living with regrets, all those 'what ifs' and 'should haves.' Something could happen to me tomorrow and I don't want my last thoughts to be about all those things I could have done and should have had. Life's too short to waste it like that."

Paul continued to stare at Daniel dumbfounded. It was too much to take in all at once. One minute everything was status quo and now it had all been turned on its head. He studied Daniel. Daniel's eyes were fever bright and the overhead light leached the color from his skin and cast his cheekbones in high relief. Daniel was breathing in short pants and Paul watched as his Adam's apple bobbed with each rapid swallow. His own mouth was dry as dust and he swallowed convulsively at the sight.

Paul's hands were still on Daniel's chest holding him at bay, but he was still close enough for Paul to smell him, the faint vestige of his aftershave mingling with the rank scent of sweat and the musk of arousal. He could feel the warmth of Daniel's skin bleeding through the thin cotton of his shirt to sear his palms. Daniel was too close, too dangerous, but there was no room in the cramped space of the bathroom. It was barely big enough for one and Daniel was blocking his exit.

Daniel's eyes studied him with the same intensity and Paul swallowed again, feeling the heat rising between them. This was insane. He should tell Daniel to leave to get the hell away from him. Clearly Daniel wasn't thinking straight. He was worried about his friend, overwrought, overtired and he was looking for some kind of comfort, some kind of reassurance. It was only natural. In another context Paul would have been flattered that Daniel had turned to him for solace. But right now, Paul knew he was little more than a convenience. He was a warm body, accessible and apparently amenable and as much as Paul wanted Daniel, he didn't want to be used like this. He was about the tell Daniel to leave when the other man broke the fraught silence.

"This isn't just some whim, Paul, and it's not about expediency."

Paul felt his heart falter for a moment as he heard Daniel echo his own thoughts back to him. He opened his mouth but no words came out.

"This is something I've thought about doing for a long time," Daniel continued. "and I'm tired of waiting. No more regrets, Paul."

His heart pounding in his chest, Paul scanned the other man's face for some sign of deception but found none. He wanted to believe Daniel, desperately wanted to believe him, but he wasn't sure he dared. There was so much at stake. Too much.

He'd become so accustomed to wanting but not having, so that the denial had become a habit in its own right. It was much safer than taking the risk. He cursed himself for a coward and cursed Daniel for making him want in the first place.

And yet, how could Paul refuse? And in that moment Paul knew that he couldn't. When Daniel leaned in again, Paul made no attempt to stop him. Daniel's mouth was warm and wet and when Daniel's tongue traced his lips, Paul opened to him without hesitation.

This was insane. *He* was insane. He was locked in a bathroom stall on a USAF jet kissing another man, while a Russian colonel slept perhaps thirty feet away. Maybe the stress and long hours had finally gotten to him after all, or maybe he was just dreaming this, but right now Paul didn't care.

Daniel was pressed against him, his body hard and heavy. Paul shifted his legs to allow Daniel to bring their bodies into full alignment. He wasn't surprised at how easily they fit together, how naturally their bodies had molded one to the other. He'd dreamed this so many times, he'd known it would be like this. Daniel's hips ground against his own and Paul could feel the length of him eager against his thigh.

Paul moaned into Daniel's mouth and Daniel's hands began to move, sliding down and across Paul's body, tugging at his shirt. Paul pressed his shoulders against the wall and arched his back to allow Daniel room to maneuver. Daniel pulled his shirt free and pushed it upwards with greedy hands. Paul slumped back against the wall and hissed as his bare back made contact with smooth, cold plastic. Paul decided to reciprocate. His hands felt inordinately clumsy as they fisted in the cotton fabric of Daniel's shirt and pulled sharply upwards. And then there was bare skin and Paul could touch at will. Daniel's back was smooth, soft skin stretched over hard muscle. Paul's hands slid along the flat planes, palms gliding over flesh already damp with sweat.

Daniel had been busy as well. Restless hands stroked Paul's skin with fingertips that traced Paul's ribs one by one. Daniel broke the kiss and began to explore new territory. He kissed Paul's jaw, his lips tender against the bristled skin. He placed teasing kisses along Paul's neck and nipped playfully at his earlobe with sharp white teeth, making Paul yelp and buck in surprise. Daniel chuckled softly at his response and whispered soft words into Paul's ears, hushing him, reminding him of the need for silence.

Paul nodded his understanding and set about his own explorations, delighted to discover that Daniel was every bit as responsive as Paul had imagined. Daniel shuddered and growled low in his throat when Paul bit the soft skin behind his ear. Daniel's response sparked an answering frisson in his own body so Paul did it again.

Daniel retaliated by sliding one hand up Paul's partially exposed chest to tweak a nipple, making Paul gasp. Daniel smiled at the discovery of another erogenous zone and proceeded to toy with the nub of flesh, rubbing it between thumb and forefinger. Then without any warning Daniel pushed Paul's shirt all the way up beneath his armpits and exchanged fingertips for lips and tongue.

"Daniel," Paul groaned as his hand reached up instinctively to thread restless fingers through short, soft hair to hold Daniel's head in place. Daniel paused and Paul could feel the other man's smile against his superheated skin, before Daniel returned to the task at hand. He shifted from teeth to tongue, biting the flesh then soothing it with delicate flicks of his nimble tongue. Paul groaned again.

He wanted more. Paul pulled Daniel upright and took his mouth in a furious, feverish kiss. His hands reached down and cupped Daniel's ass, pulling him in tight against Paul's body. Now it was Daniel's turn to groan as he bucked and rubbed against him. Paul ached with the need for release and his hips snapped forward of their own accord.

And then there were hands on his belt. They tugged and pulled and slid the leather tongue free to worry at the button and zipper behind. Paul's urgency increased tenfold and he was determined to return the favor. His hands trembled with need and he muttered a curse under his breath as his fingers fumbled and lost purchase. He tried again and succeeded this time, the belt slithering free from the metal buckle with a faint hiss and a clink of metal. Ever more determined, he attacked Daniel's trousers, wrenching Daniel's zipper downward with one harsh movement even as his own trousers slid down to puddle around his knees. Daniel's hands were on his hips, holding him steady, his fingers digging into the flesh, grasping at bone. Paul redoubled his efforts and then Daniel's trousers were gone as well, the two of them naked from waist to knee.

Daniel's body clung to his, hips pressing downwards as Paul's rose up in counterpoint. Slicked with sweat their bodies slid together easily, their cocks aligning perfectly to rub and thrust together. Paul wrapped one arm around Daniel's neck and pulled him in for a delirious kiss, all slippery tongues and hungry lips. Daniel's hands clamped down on his shoulders, then slid to grasp Paul's hips, holding him steady, holding him close.

Paul wanted to taste Daniel, to savor the flavor of his pre-come on his tongue, but knew that was impossible in the cramped confines of the bathroom. He wanted to bury himself in Daniel's body, feel flesh enclosing flesh. He wanted to feel Daniel buried inside him, claiming him with hard, frenzied strokes. The images conjured by his mind made him dizzy with excitement and set his blood aflame. Sensation overtook him. Paul had become little more than a bundle of nerve endings He tasted with his fingertips, breathed in the taste of skin. His senses were in overdrive. Heat, wet, salt, arousal. Only one thought broke through the haze of need: more.

His pace increased and his body writhed with a frantic rhythm. Paul pushed upwards than collapsed against the wall and he could hear the sound of his own flesh as it slapped against the hard plastic. For a moment Paul was afraid that Colonel Chekov could hear them, but then Paul was gone, sliding fully into the realm of sensation and Daniel was right there with him.

Paul could feel the heat swelling in his belly, could feel the tightening of his balls that signaled the onset of orgasm. Daniel thrust against him frantically with soft mewling sounds and gulping breaths gasped against Paul's neck. And then Paul could feel himself coming. He buried his face in the juncture between Daniel's neck and shoulder to muffle his moans against sweat-slicked skin. His body trembled as orgasm shot through him and he clung to Daniel as he rode out the aftershocks, the feel of his own come warm against his bare skin.

"Paul," Daniel said. His voice was low and raw and sounded of need. Or grief. Daniel kissed Paul hard and then he too was coming, semen spraying against Paul's belly in short, sticky spurts. Paul swallowed his sobbing breath and held Daniel close as orgasm rocked his body.

"Paul," he said again and this time his voice was little more than a sigh. Paul kissed him again, this time long and sweet as their tongues lazily explored and intertwined. When Daniel pulled away his eyes were smoky but the smile that lit his features melted Paul's heart. Daniel kissed him again on the lips then jotted fleeting kisses across his forehead, his temples, his eyelids. Paul sighed and just relaxed into the sensation, drowsy with contentment and satiation.

When Paul opened his eyes again, Daniel had cleaned himself and almost finished redressing. Paul saw the wadded up paper towels in the sink and tossed them into the trash receptacle, the impulse to hide the incriminating evidence instinctive. He hated himself for it.

Daniel looked over at him as he finished tucking his shirt back into his trousers and silently submitted himself Paul's careful scrutiny without hesitation. His shirt was a wrinkled mess, but that was easily explained by long wear and sleep. Daniel's face didn't look quite as pallid in the overhead light, but perhaps that was due to the soft smile that now graced his lips. That smile, Paul reflected, was the only noticeable sign of what had transpired between them.

Paul wanted to say something, but no words cam to mind. Daniel leaned in again and kissed him. It was a chaste, closed mouth kiss, but it carried with a world of tenderness. Daniel's hand came up and cupped Paul's cheek and when Daniel ended the kiss, his hand lingered. Paul turned his head and placed a light kiss against the palm and Daniel smiled again. They remained there, standing close, linked by that single touch and then Daniel nodded his head opened the door and walked away, leaving Paul alone once more.

Paul stayed there a long time, standing beneath the harsh overhead light and gazing at his own reflection in the mirror over the sink. He turned his head from side to side looking for any other physical evidence of what had happened between them. Daniel had been cautious, however, and had left behind no marks, no noticeable bruises or bite marks that could draw attention or raise suspicion. That was good, of course. It was sensible, but suddenly Paul felt an inexplicable sense of loss at that realization. Already, the encounter had taken on a strange, dreamlike quality and Paul found that he yearned for a souvenir, for something to prove conclusively that this hadn't been just a figment of his overactive imagination.

Paul grabbed a fresh handful of paper towels and wiped the drying semen from his belly and thighs then dressed mechanically. He tossed the used towels in the trash, switched off the light then left the bathroom, closing the door behind him. The cabin looked exactly as it had when he'd seen it last. Colonel Chekov was still sleeping soundly, soft snores emanating from his open mouth. Daniel was again curled up beneath a blanket in the seat across from his own, his head tilted at the same awkward angle as before.
 
Paul stood there and studied the other man's profile in the relative darkness of the cabin. It was as if nothing had changed. Nothing but Paul's own perceptions and his own memories. Paul *knew* Daniel in a way he hadn't before. He knew that Daniel would shiver and growl at the touch of lips and teeth on that patch of soft skin behind his ear. Paul knew that Daniel's back was smooth and strong to the touch, that his body was heavy and hard and that he kissed with the fevered desperation of a drowning man. He knew that Daniel gasped and mewled as he reached orgasm and that his eyes went smoky after sex. Even if he and Daniel never touched again, Paul would have those sense memories forever. It might not be enough, but it was more than he had and more than he ever imagined he could ever have.

Paul slipped into his seat and settled against its cushioned back and closed his eyes. He fell asleep immediately. There were no dreams.

Epilogue:

Paul watched as Teal'c stumbled out of the wormhole, his footsteps pounding heavily on the metal ramp. They'd done it. In spite of the odds, they'd gotten Teal'c back safe and sound and in one piece. Paul's relief was short lived however. A spark of errant energy shot through the jury-rigged cables, flaring and sputtering as it raced towards the DHD where it set off a fierce explosion. Paul threw up an arm against the brilliant flare of light and when he looked down he saw the that the DHD was a smoking ruin, it's control crystal shattered beyond repair.

"Well, that never happened in any of the simulations," Daniel said, the embarrassment evident in his voice as he shot a sideways glance at Colonel Chekov who was staring dumbfounded at the now damaged artifact.

Paul watched as Colonel O'Neill, Major Carter and General Hammond greeted their friend. There would be hell to pay over this, of that Paul had no doubt, but right now Paul knew it was worth it. He shot a glance of his own over at Daniel who had remained in the control room at Colonel Chekov's side. Daniel watched the reunion, a soft smile gracing his lips, as he saw his friends together and safe.

Chekov turned to Daniel. "I will need to speak with my superiors back in Russia," he said.

Daniel nodded. "Of course." Daniel glanced around and waved over Sergeant Davis. "Sergeant, is there somewhere where Colonel Chekov can make a telephone call?"

Davis gave the men a clipped nod. "Yes, of course. If you'll follow me, sir?" Davis gestured towards the staircase and led Chekov from the control room up to the briefing room above.

Daniel returned his gaze to the scene in the gate room. "Paul?" he asked without looking over at the man standing next to him.

"Yes?"

"Do you need to go back to DC right away?"

Paul frowned, puzzled by the unexpected question. "I'll need to give a full report to the Joint Chiefs but in view of the current state of the DHD, I suspect I'll need to stay here for a bit and smooth over some ruffled Russian feathers. Why?"

Daniel looked at him then, his expression enigmatic. "I think you and I need to have a talk and maybe this time we can find someplace a little more comfortable than an airplane bathroom to have it in."

Paul flushed, but offered a timid smile. "I'd like that."

"Good, because I'm in a mood to celebrate."

"It's great to have Teal'c back," Paul said.

"Yes, yes it is," Daniel agreed, "but I think I have something else to celebrate."

Paul studied Daniel. He was hopeful, but experience had taught him to be cautious. "And that would be?"

"No more regrets, Paul. No more regrets."

Daniel smiled at him and Paul smiled back. "No more regrets."