Dangerous Discovery by Carlyn

Dangerous Discovery
by Carlyn

"Ungh!"

"Shit. Jack!"

Daniel reflexively slammed down a hand, managing to save his legal pad and Dr. Shearer's report from following the file of digital images from P9B-368 onto the floor.

Jack grunted and kicked again. Tucking his rescued materials safely under his pillow, Daniel flipped onto his hip and leaned carefully into his lover's back.

After sneering disapprovingly at Daniel when the younger man had settled himself on his side of the bed, tablet and folder spread out in his lap, Jack had turned over in a huff, choosing, he'd said, to snooze away the sultry summer afternoon. Daniel had thought the comment rather ironic, considering that they had just generated enough heat of their own to qualify Jack's rented room as a tropical zone.

His face flushed with renewed warmth, recent events playing through his head in perfect detail.

At Jack's urging, he came home in the middle of the day, juggling the folders and books he'd need to finish the translation his lover's call had interrupted. The television droned from the bedroom and, figuring to find Jack there, he made a beeline for the back of the house to learn the reason for the early afternoon summons.

Daniel turned the corner, surprised when he found that Jack had the TV tuned to a nature documentary instead of one of the sports channels. Stepping into the bedroom, he froze on the threshold, pinned in place by a dark, seductive gaze. The question of Jack's hail stuck in his throat, the sudden lack of moisture hampering his ability to slip the words over his tongue. Jack was waiting, naked beneath the sheets, the cool green cotton tented and damp at a spot just below the trim waist that told Daniel everything he needed to know. 

But Jack chose to explain anyway, his breathy, "Fuck me. Now," instantly igniting a fire in Daniel's groin. Daniel managed to keep just enough blood above his neck to secure his research items on the bedside table before lustily diving in to accede to the demand.

Another jolt and a small cry brought Daniel out of his reverie. Hesitantly, he reached for Jack, his hand hanging uncertainly over the strong shoulder. Clearly, Jack was having a nightmare. Even now, years after he'd left the field, the events of missions gone wrong resurfaced, the illusion of danger as real to him in his dreams as the actual events.

Jack cried out again, then, with a sharp intake of breath, he lurched from his pillow. His tousled head swiveled awkwardly, vacant eyes staring dazedly into space.

Daniel pressed his hand to his lover's back, fingers curving to knead soothing circles on the clammy skin. "It's alright, Jack," Daniel cooed calmly, "You're safe."

Startled, Jack turned and blinked at Daniel, squinting, apparently through the shadowy remnants of his dream, to bring him into focus.

Daniel smiled. "It's me, Jack. You're home. Safe. With me."

Jack's eyes cleared, but instead of returning the smile, as Daniel expected, his eyes widened and he pushed away. Gasping, he threw himself onto his back, pushed down the sheets and gaped at his abdomen, fingers clutching spastically.

"Jack," Daniel called sharply.

Surmising that his lover was still lost in his dream — one where he was injured by a staff blast or some other alien weapon — he gripped Jack's hands, flattening them against the unbroken skin. "There's no wound, Jack. It was a nightmare. It wasn't real."

"It wasn't real," Jack echoed woodenly. Stealing a glance at Daniel, he repeated the words with a bit more conviction. "It wasn't real," he sighed. Jack convulsed with a shiver so dramatic, that, had he not witnessed Jack's distress, Daniel might have thought it fabricated.

"That was some nightmare," he said, his fingers skimming along Jack's body until they hooked over his shoulder again and squeezed gently. "What was it? Did you dream you were shot by a staff weapon?"

Jack's mouth tightened. "No, no staff," he grumbled. "It was those damn seahorses."

"Were you... what?"

"Seahorses, Daniel. Seahorses," Jack sputtered, hand flapping wildly.

"Yes, Jack, I understand the word. I just... I'm not getting the context."

"It's the male that incubates the offspring," the older man replied, oddly enthusiastic in his unaccustomed role of information giver. "They have this little pouch-"

"The male seahorse," Daniel said, just to make sure he was on the same page.

"Yeah. The female puts her eggs in there, he fertilizes them, and they stay there until they become baby seahorses. Then, when they're ready, they tumble out like clowns from an overcrowded car."

"That's... fascinating, Jack. Uh, where did you learn this?"

"It was on the TV, when you came in. I was flipping through the channels and it seemed like something you'd be interested in. I knew you'd be home soon, so-"

"So, you left it on."

"Yeah. I thought it would make a nice change, you know, from the hockey scores. Especially since, last time, you complained that I seemed more interested in finding out the results of the Blackhawks game than in the dirty words you were slathering across my chest with your tongue."

Daniel scowled at the memory, the reprimand sliding quickly away. "So you thought it better to have on something that you knew wouldn't distract you."

"Only, apparently, some of it bled into my brain, even while my mind was on other things!" Jack exclaimed, clearly agitated by that fact.

Daniel stared at him for a second and shook his head to clear it of all the confusing information he'd received thus far. "Okay, now you've lost me."

Jack pulled a less than patient smirk. "It all spilled over in my dream."

"Your dream."

"Yes, Daniel, my dream," Jack said again, exasperated at having to repeat himself. "It started out great. You were drilling me just the way you did it before I fell asleep." Jack absently laid a hand on Daniel's hip. "You were really outstanding by the way. I don't think I told you that."

"Thank you," Daniel muttered, just because he thought he should. "I take it something went wrong in the dream?"

"Those damn seahorses. I guess my subconscious dredged up that little bit about the guy carrying the kids, because the next thing I know..." Jack's hands went to his abdomen again, only this time instead of clutching, his fingers barely grazed the skin, as though he thought it too delicate to touch.

Suddenly, all the pieces fell together. Daniel reeled in his lips, it seeming inappropriate to unleash the smile he felt blossoming given Jack's unsettled state. He cleared his throat, and as gently as he could, voiced his conclusion. "You found yourself pregnant."

"Yeah," Jack confirmed, "Only instead of dozens of tiny seahorses, I got bunches of little generals and archaeologists, so when they burst out of me-"

"Ouch," Daniel commiserated, his face screwing up with imagined pain.

"Exactly."

Daniel patted his lover's shoulder. "Well, it was just a dream, Jack. And it's over now."

"Yeah, thank god. And, I'll tell you something; I learned a very valuable lesson from this."

"Really? What's that?"

"We should never, ever have the Discovery Channel on in the background during sex."

The End