A Joys Christmas Interlude

By Cancer

Daniel did a 360 degree turn trying to take in the whole of the living room. Jack had outdone himself this time. A huge tree stood by the deck windows, festooned with decorations and lights. Every conceivable surface was covered.

Even the coffee table had a small tree, with baubles and tinsel decorating it, as well as small ornaments. The ornaments Daniel knew came from a collection that Jack's mother had started and that Jack continued to add to.

Speaking of Jack....Daniel smiled as he heard the muffled thuds and thumps that told him the love of his life was still attempting to fix the lights to the outside of the house.

*You sure you don't need any help?* Daniel asked through their mental link.

*No, babe, I'm fine. No point in you freezing your delightful butt off out here as well. Just have one more string to put up.* Came the reply.

Daniel gave a smile. * Take it you'd like a Irish coffee when you're done?*

*Oooh yeah! Thanks! Give me another five.*

*'kay* Daniel cut the link and headed for the kitchen. He checked the turkey that was cooking in the oven and again went over his to do list. He and Jack were hosting the annual Christmas Eve get together and Daniel wanted everything to go smoothly. He tapped the pen against the pad. The potatoes would the next thing to do, he still had a little time before he needed to start preparing them.

He put the pad down on the counter and opened the cupboard to pull out a couple of mugs, located the JackDaniels and started the coffee maker brewing. Five minutes later he was adding the liquor to the coffees when blasts of cold air herald the arrival of Jack. Two arms snaked their way round his waist, a cold nose pressed itself against the back of his neck and two cold hands sneaked their way under his shirt.

"Thanks, Jack. I just so needed to know you see me as your personal body warmer." He tried to pull the hands, that were roaming over his stomach, out from under his shirt. Only to find himself held tighter and pressed more firmly against Jack. Daniel gave a small sigh and relaxed. If he admitted it, he loved being held. It was the sense of security and being safe. Something he missed when growing up.

"This isn't gonna get the meal done or the coffees drunk." He waved his hand towards the two steaming mugs still sat on the counter. Daniel grinned as he was quickly released and followed Jack's vanishing back down into the living room.

A few seconds later Daniel was snuggled up beside Jack sipping his Irish coffee. He gave a contented sigh as he gazed round at the gaily decorated room. He knew he would have to go back into the kitchen to finish preparing the meal, but at the moment he was exactly where he wanted to be.

He felt Jack run his hand gently down his back. "Happy, babe?" Jack asked.

"Oh yeah." Daniel planted a kiss on Jack's neck.

"Even though we still have a whole bunch of Celtic Ancients currently creating havoc at the mountain. Then there is you Mother, who is seriously pissed at us and in particular at my Grandfather." Jack said.

"Nothing we can't handle, Flyboy. Mom's been pissed since Grandpa gave me back my sight, so that's nothing new. As for the Celts, let someone else deal with them. It's Christmas Eve, Jack. I don't want to think about the weird and wonderful unless it has a connection with Christmas."

Jack just gave a snort and pulled Daniel closer. The two of them sat in contented silence as the lights of the tree twinkled and the smell of turkey drifted round the room. 'Yeah', Daniel thought, 'Let the universe look after itself for once.' He was on holiday.


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Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. This is a parody for entertainment purposes only. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted anywhere without the consent of the author.