Genre: friendship, fluff, humor, team
Pairings: Jack and Daniel friendship,
Summary: Twas the night before Christmas, and Daniel couldn’t sleep.
A/N: Christmas prompt (ribbon) from jackwabbit that I forgot I wrote. It’s also loosely based off devra_01 (for once you'll be off for the holiday to celebrate with friends and family) prompt. Thanks, guys! So, though I didn’t post at Christmas, I figured Christmas in July would do.
A/N: This happens to be my second sleepy Daniel story posted in a week. These things happen.
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a—
“For cryin’ out loud, Daniel, would you hold still?” Jack griped again. Daniel was excited about something he had seen on PX-whatever while they were running for their collective asses yesterday. And an excited Daniel was an animated one.
To say the least, Jack was burnt out. His entire team was—despite Daniel’s current burst of energy. They had been at it nonstop; mission after mission, diplomatic meeting after diplomatic meeting and crises after crises for months—until they came back last night bruised, beaten and barely awake on their feet. Hammond immediately placed them all on leave until after the New Year despite brass’ protests that their golden team wouldn’t be at their beckon call.
Now after thirteen hours of blissfully uninterrupted sleep, Jack planned to deck the halls, wrap presents and spread merriment. Daniel was supposed to be helping him wrap but was too busy waving his hands about.
Jack took a talking hand and again positioned it over the present he was wrapping so that Daniel’s finger was holding the ribbon in place while he tied it. Though Jack had slept the night before, he had a feeling that his friend had not.
“Jack, did you hear me?”
The question punctured through Jack’s thoughts and he tried to grasp at words his subconscious picked up while he wasn’t paying attention. Something about moon gods and enchiladas? Mmm enchiladas... He didn’t look up from the expert bow he was finishing when he answered, “Nope.”
He could practically hear the younger man raise his eyebrows and purse his lips as he called upon his patience. “I asked when we’ll be able to go back there,” he said slowly.
“In case you forgot, Daniel they didn’t much like us there.” Jack gestured with a nod of his head at the younger man’s side—where under clothes and bandages there resided a four inch laceration.
“Oh, that?” Daniel waved it off like it was just a paper cut. “I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding.”
“Yeahsuuure,” Jack drawled with his Minnesotan accent, “tell that to my black eye, Carter’s concussion and Teal’c’s… Teal’c’s… well, they really pissed the big guy off.”
“But Jack, they have—”
“Pointy things, Daniel. Really.Big.Sharp.Pointy.Things.” He held his hands apart to elaborate. “The answer is no.”
Daniel sighed and slumped into the couch, head resting against the back cushion.
Jack’s eyes soften. “Sleep on it,” he said gently. “You’ll come to realize I’m right. And if not, submit a formal request to Hammond.” He brought up a ‘on one condition’ finger, “But not until after leave.”
Daniel took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan that Jack understood all too well. He would if he could—sleep, that is. But it wasn’t excitement that was keeping the sandman at bay. It was exhaustion. When Daniel reached a certain point lately—if he pushed too hard for too long, his brain and body got stuck in high gear. “The pills Fraiser gave you?”
“Yeaaah, they didn’t work. I finished my Christmas shopping last night…for next year.”
Impressive. “Want me to call Teal’c over and have him sit on you? It worked last time,” he said, watching Daniel’s leg bounce up and down. He casually reached for another wrapped gift and ribbon.
“I still don’t know how I got tricked into that wrestling match,” Daniel grumbled mostly to himself.
“Because you were exhausted,” Jack supplied easily, “and clearly not thinking…clearly.”
Jack reclaimed an unresisting hand for bow duty. And though it hurt his pride—“Want me to put The Simpsons on? Always seems to knock you out fairly quickly.” Much to his chagrin.
“And risk retaliation? No, thank you.”
“Hey,” Jack raised a hand, “scouts honor—no shaving cream and feathers this time.”
Daniel didn’t appear to believe him, but Jack noticed that his leg was bouncing less frantically. So, he kept up a slow monologue of all the things they could try to help Daniel sleep—which, by happy coincidence was lulling him into a relaxed state until his leg stopped bouncing and his eyes closed.
Jack grinned smugly and freed Daniel’s finger from the bow he had just finished tying. He could do the rest without him. When his phone rang, he quickly picked it up and stepped into another room. “Yeah, O’Neill,” he barked softly into the phone.
“Hi, sir, it’s Carter. I was trying to locate Daniel, have you—”
“He’s here. He’s asleep.”
“Sleeping, sir?” She sounded surprised.
“Hey, I have a very calming effect on people.”
“You forced him to stay still by being your little bow boy, didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question.
“What can I say? I’m an archaeologist whisperer. He never knew what hit him.”
Carter huffed a small laugh on the other end of the phone. “Glad to hear, sir. See you two in the morning?”
“You betchya. Oh, and make sure Teal’c doesn’t forget the cinnamon rolls this time, will ya?”
“Merry Christmas, Carter.”
“Merry Christmas, sir.”
Disconnecting the call, Jack walked back into the living room. Daniel had curled up on the couch…and was using a pile of ribbons as a pillow. Pursing his lips, Jack canted his head to the side. Then opening his cell phone, he snapped a picture…and promptly texted it to Carter and Teal’c.
Pulling a blanket from the back of the couch, he then laid it over his friend. He was just sitting down with a beer in his hand and a classic Christmas movie on the tv when he received multiple texts at once.
Carter: Next year’s Christmas card!
He smirked and opened the next one.
Fraiser: Thanks for sending, sir. I was getting worried. Maybe Sam can make that next year’s Christmas card ;)
Whoops, he had accidentally sent it to Fraiser too, apparently.
Another text came through. Thankfully he had put the alerts on vibrate so not to disturb Daniel.
Teal’c: Why is DanielJackson sleeping on decorative ribbons? Do you not have adequate pillows, O’Neill?
Jack took a sip of his beer and looked over at Daniel. He seemed comfortable enough.
Jack lowered his beer. He hadn’t…had he?
He opened the text.
Hammond: Glad to see he’s finally resting. Merry Christmas.
“Oy.” He needed to learn how to use his new phone better. Another text alert and Jack was almost afraid to look. How many people had he sent it to? Daniel was going to kill him.
It was Hammond again.
Hammond: Oh, and Jack? Get the boy a pillow.