Title: Rewriting the Rules

Author: Moonshayde

Season: Seven

Category:  UST, Pre-Slash

Spoilers: Mild S7 spoilers

Pairing/Character: Jack/Daniel

Summary: From ritual to sport, the rules of life are always being renegotiated.

Warnings: minor language

Rating: PG

 

Author's Notes:  Written for fairyglass for the LL J/D Ficathon to include the following --

(1) An "Alpha" Daniel that still stays true to his academic sweetness (you don't need to be a biker to be a manly man - smart is sexy!)
(2) Something that starts off world, makes Jack think, and eventually is resolved at home. It can be first time or the resolution of UST. Something that evokes that "ah ha!" moment.

 

Optional Requests:

(1)   I'd prefer if neither Jack or Daniel has always been "the secretly gay, yay!"

(2)   I wouldn't turn my nose up at an AU and/or Crossover with SGA.

 

Another ritual. Why was it that they always had to Gate to a world where the people were in the middle of some big event? It never was a slow day or part of the off-season. Hell, it never was something interesting, like a sports game or poker night. Nope. Never. It was always some religious festival or the yearly sacrificial garage sale. What were the odds of it always being something dull, boring, or potentially dangerous? Jack refrained from asking Carter because he so did not want to go there.

 

"This is great," Daniel said. He walked toward Jack, Carter, and Teal'c, closing the gap between SG-1 and the native whom Daniel had been talking to for the past ten minutes. "I can't believe our luck."

 

"Oh, yes. How lucky we are," Jack said, keeping his expression neutral as he eyed Daniel's new friend carefully. "And with whom are we lucky this time?"

 

"Newa," Daniel said, making a vague gesture with his hand to the man behind them. Then, with two clicks, off came the knapsack; out came the notebook. "The Avisah aren't only going to let us actually witness their rite, they're letting us participate."

 

Jack was sure he'd just heard wrong. Though, from the shock on Sam's face and the displeasure in Teal'c's eyes, he knew he hadn't. "Whoa, wait. I thought you said participate?"

 

Daniel zipped up his pack and grabbed it with hand, tucking his notebook under his other arm. "I did," he said, almost smiling. Jack realized just by the tone of his voice and his body language that he was heading back to that Newa person.

 

Jack motioned with a quick hand signal to Teal'c and Carter before he went to intercept Daniel. "Hey, I don't think so." Jack stepped in front of him; Carter and Teal'c boxed him from the rear. "We don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to off-world rituals, if you know what I mean."

 

Daniel raised his eyebrows, his face stuck in a half-frown as he gave Jack that look – the one that bordered between impatience and arrogance. "Jack, it's an annual celebration where people are blessed and everyone drinks and eats. That's it."

 

Jack wasn't convinced. It never was that simple. Ever.

 

"What events transpire at this festival?" Teal'c asked.

 

"Thank you," Daniel said, turning to Teal'c. "It's the Festival of the Moon. Ever year, around this time, the Avisah celebrate the light of the moon and its protective properties."

 

Carter nodded. "To coincide with Avisah's planetary rotations."

 

"Right. At this time of year, their moon appears to be largest."

 

"It's similar to perceptions that surround our spring and autumn equinoxes," Carter said.

 

"Yes," Daniel said with a nod. "So, it makes sense that the Avisah would mark celestial happenings as religious."

 

"Of course," Sam said, her eyes brightening as she continued to connect the dots. "And therefore, hold celebrations."

 

"Exactly." Daniel gazed up to the sky, making a wide circular gesture toward the hills where the Avisah lived. "Ceremonially, the chief dresses as the moon, while others under his rule dress up as the stars. After an elaborate ritual, the stars bow down to the moon, solidifying its power and right to rule over them. It's quite fascinating, really.  The symbolism and how it's woven into the govermentality, reinforcing the cultural norms and values of the chief—"

 

"Yeah, fascinating," Jack muttered, effectively ending the lesson. Nothing Daniel or Carter had said eased any of his suspicions concerning the "participate" part of this little trip. "How about we just get to the point?"

 

Daniel just stared at him, but Jack sensed something more mischievous lurking in his eyes. "I thought I already made my point."

 

"You have not described the nature of our participation," Teal'c said.

 

"Yeah," Sam said, frowning. "And I've already reached my quota in participate observation."

 

"Not to worry," Daniel said, sounding confident. "It's just me."

 

Okay, Jack still didn't like where this was going. Any time SG-1 participated in something in the past, whether as a group or just one of them, it never seemed to end well. Someone always got old, crazy, or died. Jack wasn't going to have any more of that.

 

"No," Jack said. "You'll be telling your buddy over there no dice. You'll be sitting this one out."

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"Colonel O'Neill is right, Daniel," Sam said. "We don't know a lot about these people."

 

Teal'c inclined his head. "I am in agreement."

 

"I'm not," Daniel said. He moved to side step around them but Jack quickly matched him. Daniel sighed. "Look, this is what I do. This is what you told me I always did."

 

"No, I don't think so." Jack knew full well that Daniel had most of his memories back by now. Somewhere along the line Daniel had started playing the memory card. They'd fallen for it the first few times, but had since wised up to Daniel's little schemes. No more. "Nice try."

 

"It's harmless," Daniel said, puckering his lips into a pout. "Purely symbolic."

 

Jack raised his eyebrows. Daniel seemed to be pulling out all the stops tonight. "Symbolically good or symbolically bad?"

 

Daniel let out a frustrated sigh.

 

"It is for your welfare, Daniel Jackson."

 

Daniel bowed his head. To anyone that didn't know him, he looked defeated. But Jack knew him all too well. This was trick number forty-two.

 

"Not working," Jack said.

 

Daniel looked up, his eyes blazing as he glared at Jack. Trick number fifty-seven. Then his face softened, ever so slightly, heralding number fifty-eight. "I know you're just looking out for me. Believe me, I appreciate it. But I promise you that nothing is going to happen to me. I know how to handle myself. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not going to disappear or die."

 

Jack chewed on the inside of his mouth, considering his words. Okay, so maybe they had been a little overly cautious lately. Or maybe they had been walking on eggshells just a bit. But Jack was still not sold on this idea.

 

Jack sighed. Heaven help him. "What will happen in the ceremony?" When Carter shot him a surprised look, Jack shrugged. "More precisely, what will you be doing?"

 

"I'll be on the stage with the others."

 

Oh, Jack thought, that was a big help.

 

"Is that the priest residing over the function?" Carter asked, peering around Daniel to eye Newa.

 

"Oh, no. He's the dance instructor," Daniel said.

 

"Dance?" Carter blinked at Daniel. "You'll be dancing?"

 

"This ceremony…it's one big dance?" Jack didn't believe that one either.

 

Daniel nodded and smiled, his eyes shining. He looked way too amused over their confusion. "Yes. Well, more like a play."

 

Jack glanced over to Carter, then Teal'c. They seemed as perplexed as he was. Jack couldn't help envisioning the play, dance, whatever, ending with someone's heart getting ripped out and offered to some Goa'uld who had yet to make an appearance. And judging by the scowl forming on Daniel's face, he must have guessed that's exactly what would be crossing Jack's mind.

 

"Why don't you just ask Chief Motabi yourself?" Daniel asked. He stepped aside and pointed to the hills. "It's not a secret ceremony. He can tell you everything you want to know."

 

While Jack still wasn't sold on the idea, he figured he had nothing to lose by having a little talk with the leader of this group. It would also allow him to tell Motabi "no" in person.

 

Jack looked down at the tube of lotion in his hands. Motabi hadn't said anything about this during their little chat over tonight's events. Nor had Daniel.

 

Why the hell had he agreed to let Daniel do this anyway?

 

Jack watched a man in nothing but a loincloth pass by their tent. He stiffened when he saw another man holding a tube similar to his follow the first man. They disappeared into a tent of their own.

 

Jack looked down at the tube.

 

Crap.

 

"Oh, Daniel?"

 

Jack heard a muffled reply from somewhere behind one of the tent's curtains. Daniel had been behind there for the past several minutes preparing himself for the ceremony. Jack didn't understand. Daniel had summoned Jack to the tent via a messenger claiming that he needed him. For what exactly, Daniel hadn't said.

 

Eyeing the tube carefully, Jack twisted off the top to squeeze a little of the liquid onto his fingers. He raised his eyebrows. It was a bluish-white color, almost pearly and luminescent, not greasy, but yet still slick and smooth. He quickly hid his hand upon hearing Daniel shuffle behind the curtain and enter the center of the room.

 

Jack had to fight to keep a straight face. Daniel had some stupid headdress thing on the crown of his head that looked like it had been created from a mesh of wiring used to make a chicken coop. Jack's gaze ventured lower. He gave a sigh of relief. Apparently, the Avisah had given Daniel some leeway in the loincloth department.

 

"Oh, you found it," Daniel said, gazing at the tube in Jack's hands. He wiped his palms on his pants before readjusting the headdress.

 

Jack glanced down at the tube. "Found what, exactly?"

 

"Body paint," Daniel said simply.

 

Body paint. Jack tried not to look too relieved as he exhaled. But still… Body paint? What the hell.

 

"I need someone to apply the body paint," Daniel explained, walking toward him. "I could do it myself, but I'm no contortionist."

 

He hesitated, trying to convince himself that Daniel wasn't asking him what he thought he was asking him. But when Daniel finally approached him and rolled his shoulders back, his expression open and expectant, Jack knew otherwise.

 

"Couldn't you have gotten Carter to do this?" Jack asked. He stared at the tube again.

 

"Well, ah, technically for the rite to work, the leader of each 'unit' needs to apply to paint."

 

Jack brought his gaze back to Daniel and raised his eyebrows. "The leader, eh?"

 

Daniel stared at him. "It sounded good."

 

"You want to try again?"

 

Daniel sighed. "I couldn't ask Sam," he said, reaching up to scratch behind his head. "I didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable and then we'd probably talk about it and dissect it for the next few weeks."

 

Jack flashed him a crooked smile. "And who says I wouldn't?"

 

Daniel ignored him, crossing his arms as he sent Jack a definitive glare.

 

"What about Teal'c?" Jack asked. "I bet he'd be all over this stuff."

 

Daniel just blinked.

 

"Okay, fine," Jack said. So, Daniel wanted him to do it. No big deal.

 

 "You're okay with it?"

 

No. "Yeah, whatever." Jack looked down on the tube. "So…"

 

"So, just apply it on my back and shoulders," Daniel told him, making motions to different sections of his back. "I can always do my chest and arms."

 

Jack nodded, snapping open the bottle. He didn't need Daniel to vocalize the instructions for him. Jack knew what to do. He just wanted to get it over with already.

 

Jack started off slow. He squeezed a little bit of the paint onto his fingertips and lightly touched Daniel's back. Daniel jerked, his muscles stiffening from the coolness of the liquid. Jack fought not to chuckle.

 

He rolled the gel in between his palms, warming the liquid until it loosened and became more manageable. Quietly, he settled his hands onto the middle of Daniel's back, working his palms up and over his muscles, up and down, and in slow, rhythmic circles. Whatever stiffness had been in Daniel only moments ago melted away.

 

Jack slid his hands between Daniel's shoulder blades before reaching up around them to knead his shoulders. He made sure he covered every inch of his upper body, teasing the hairs on the nape of his neck as he smoothed the paint over his skin, while he secretly relished in the light fragrance of the paint as it wafted off Daniel.

 

It was sweet, like springtime or fresh like morning rain. As Jack inhaled the aroma that drifted from the warmed liquid, he felt tingly and light, almost forgetting where he was. It took him a moment to recover. He frowned, a little uncomfortable with his lack of focus, and stared at Daniel's back.

 

Just finish it, he told himself.

 

Quickly, Jack ran his hands down the back of Daniel's extended arms in one slick move. He stopped at the wrists, hesitating as he stared at Daniel's body. He squeezed another mountain of the gel into his palms, rubbed it fiercely, before he slathered it onto the small of Daniel's back and around his hips. His movements were rough and harsh; Jack concentrated only on smoothing the blue paint onto Daniel's skin and getting this task finished. He was a soldier not some masseuse.

 

Jack turned Daniel around and stopped, standing in front of his friend as he warmed some more of the liquid. Daniel was frowning at him, wearing that mask of disapproval he always seemed to carry whenever Jack deviated from whatever little imaginary world Daniel pictured was right, correct, and just.

 

It was a challenge. And he'd be damned if he ever backed away from a challenge.

 

With his gaze firmly locked on Daniel, Jack started working on his chest. He didn't break eye contact, and he didn't hesitate any longer. The sooner he was finished, the better. This was by far the stupidest thing Daniel had ever asked him to do. The stupidest thing he'd ever done on a mission. Jack tried to remember why he'd agreed to the ceremony in the first place.

 

Jack rubbed harder.

 

Daniel's frown deepened.

 

Jack rubbed even harder.

 

"Uh, Jack—"

 

He slapped yet another warmed glob onto Daniel's chest, working it down across his abdomen. Now, Daniel was scowling at him, but didn't move to protest. He stood there, glaring at Jack, as he moved to finish up his handiwork.

 

When Jack was nearly done, Daniel attempted to speak again. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't anger management usually consist of methods aside from beating on your friends?"

 

Jack found himself scowling. "Works for me."

 

"Apparently, it does," Daniel muttered, rubbing his hands together to spread the paint over his palms.

 

"Hey, you asked me to do this," Jack said.

 

"I know," Daniel said, his face softening. He managed a small smile as he pressed his hand against Jack's chest in appreciation. "Thanks."

 

Jack wrinkled his nose at the aromatic body paint, but nodded anyway. "Sure." He cleared his throat and stepped away, finding a towel over by a nearby wicker table and grabbed it to wipe his hands. "Why the hell is this so important, anyway?" he asked.

 

Daniel shrugged.  "I told you," he said quickly, glancing over to the door entrance of the hut. "But I have to go now or I'll be late." He grinned, fixing his slumping hat. "I don't want to tempt fate."

 

"Yeah, right." Jack rolled his eyes.

 

They both started heading to the exit when Carter poked her head through the flap. One look at Daniel, and Jack was positive she was going to crack. But instead, she averted her gaze to someplace behind their heads and motioned to the outside with a wave of her hand.

 

"Chief Motabi is waiting for you," she said.

 

Daniel started for the exit, thanking Carter when she held open the tent flap for him. When he was gone, she bit back a smile, though her eyes still danced with mischief when she brought her gaze to Jack.

 

He had to give her credit; she was trying her best not to laugh.

 

"Has Teal'c checked out the stage and the surrounding areas?" Jack asked, getting back down to business.

 

Carter nodded. "He hasn't found anything suspicious. It's possible that this truly is just an annual play the villagers perform."

 

"It's possible," Jack muttered, though it wasn't likely. "I want you and Teal'c on guard just in case. I'm not taking any chances."

 

"Yes, sir." She was still biting back a smile.

 

Jack eyed her closely, frowning, as he met her by the tent's exit and entrance. "What's so funny?"

 

Carter reached out and touched his shirt, before she held up her thumb and index finger, showing off the glistening bluish-colored paint. Jack swore, glancing down at the huge handprint on his shirt.

 

Dammit.

 

"I was once told that anthropologists became really involved in their work," Carter said.

 

"Not an anthropologist, Carter."

 

Her tempered smile broke into a full grin. "You are today."

 

Jack and Carter made it back to the field, taking a seat on a nearby rock as they watched the crowd for any kind of change. Teal'c was already seated, keeping his post, while they waited for the show to start. Once he saw Carter and Jack, his expression changed from one of watchfulness to confusion. He arched his eyebrow and went to open his mouth.

 

Jack shook his head and zipped up his jacket. "Don't ask."

 

Teal'c appeared bemused over the comment, but complied and sat back to continue to watch the crowd. They could see everything from where they had situated themselves – the field, the stage, and the little pockets of woodland that hung in the background – which suited Jack just fine. He wasn't going to take anything lightly.

 

It wasn't long before the show started. Jack instantly recognized Motabi. It was hard to miss the guy with the big peacock on his head. The other players all looked a lot like Daniel, aside from the fact Daniel was the only one wearing pants. He stood out like a sore thumb.

 

Jack supposed the dancing was nice. He never was much into theater. Sara had dragged him out to a couple of modern dance things once, having been urged on by a couple of her friends. Jack could honestly say he couldn't remember much. He'd fallen asleep sometime after a man announced he was embodying the spirit of tomorrow.

 

The men were twirling around, while bright, colorful ribbons streamed around them. Some big guy pounded the drums on the far left of the stage and he heard women screeching somewhere in the back. The crowd was clapping along.

 

Jack wasn't clapping. He kept his hands on his P-90, his focus jumping between the performance, the perimeter around the stage, and the crowd as a whole. So far, he didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

 

"Look, sir. Daniel's in the front now."

 

Jack glanced over to the stage. Sure enough, Daniel had moved to the front of the stage and didn't seem the least bit embarrassed that he was dressed like a shiny Smurf. The moonlight kept reflecting off his painted body, making him shimmer like a newly finished hubcap. He lacked the grace the other dancers had, but he seemed to be a good sport about it. Jack found himself smiling.

 

There was a poking to his ribs. When Jack turned, Carter was grinning at him again.

 

"What?" he asked.

 

"I thought you would be…" She shrugged. "More honored."

 

"Honored?" Why the hell should Jack be honored? His hands still smelled like perfume.

 

Her grin vanished. "Didn't Daniel tell you?"

 

Jack felt that cold bottomless feeling enter the pit of his stomach. He swore that sometimes, Daniel could be as bad as the Tok'ra. He made sure his pointed glare caused Teal'c and Carter to realize that no, Daniel had not told him a damn thing.

 

"The ritual is in two parts," Carter said, starting to confirm some of Jack's worst fears. "The dance is only half of the ritual."

 

Jack sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. "And?"

 

"Well, sir, you were part of the first half."

 

Jack looked up at that comment. "The whole body paint thing?"

 

She nodded, but still wore a puzzled frown.

 

"Daniel Jackson has informed us that the ritual is not only for the chief of the people, but also as a rite of renewal and purification for the participants," Teal'c said.

 

"According to Daniel, the participants pick someone they admire to anoint them before they do the ritual dance," Carter explained. "They take the strength from their chosen supporter and use it to overcome past sins and regressions."

 

"Past sins and regressions?" Jack shook his head. "What does he think this is? Church?"

 

"I don't know, sir. Maybe Daniel felt he needed something tangible to deal with his Ascension and lost memories," Carter said. "It's all symbolic and metaphorical."

 

Teal'c dipped his head in agreement. "However, it is still bound with honor."

 

Jack sighed. That was great. Daniel was using a tribal dance as the Avisah's version of a confessional. He shouldn't be dancing out his issues. He should make them known in a more normal way.

 

"Why didn't he just tell us?' Jack asked, still eyeing the stage and the crowd.

 

"I do not believe he wished to do so," Teal'c said. He cocked his head and evaluated Jack carefully. "Would you not have kept these matters to yourself?"

 

"That's beside the point," Jack muttered. He hated when Teal'c called him on things.

 

"It's not just that, Colonel. I think Teal'c is right. It is an honor. Daniel felt fairly strongly about this rite, and he chose you to be his sponsor."

 

"He came to us to express his regret that he would not be able to chose anyone but you," Teal'c added.

 

Jack shook his head again. He still didn't see what the big deal was. So, Daniel had some left over issues that he hadn't gotten over yet. He should have told Jack, not just because he should have told him, but also because he was Daniel's commanding officer. Jack could forgive him for having some issues. Jack had some issues with the whole Ancient-Ascended thing himself. And, okay, maybe he was a little proud that Daniel had chosen him because that meant Daniel admired him. That wasn't something Daniel would ever readily admit. But what was with all the secrecy?

 

"What else aren't you telling me?" Jack asked suspiciously.

 

He caught Carter's cheeks redden. Teal'c said nothing and continued to study the stage.

 

"Carter…"

 

"Usually, the rite is performed by…a spouse."

 

Jack was positive he'd heard that wrong. "Teal'c?"

 

The big guy smiled.

 

Crap, Jack thought. "So, are you telling me all these people think—?"

 

Both Carter and Teal'c were grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Wasn't that just perfect.

 

"I'm glad that you're finding this amusing," Jack said with a scowl.

 

"Very much, sir," Carter said cheerfully.

 

"Indeed."

 

Jack had nothing to say after that. He sat there, on the rock, watching the crowd, the stage, and Daniel, wavering between being angry and somewhat touched. Daniel admired him. Daniel had chosen him for "strength." Daniel felt comfortable with him. And now the entire village thought that he and Daniel…you know.

 

He frowned, realized that he probably should be more angry with this than he was. To be honest, it didn't really even faze him. He wasn't happy that Carter and Teal'c thought it was some kind of joke, but part of him was okay with it. Part of him felt comfortable, if not a little free.

 

And that was the part that pissed him off to no end.

 

"I'm going to check the perimeter," Jack said finally, rising to his feet. "Tell me how it ends."

 

"But, sir—"

 

Jack got up and left the rock, heading for the edge of the woods. He didn't care if Daniel was watching or if the rest of the crowd was put off by his behavior. He needed some space.

 

With a grunt, Jack threw himself on his couch, opened up a cold one, turned on the TV, and settled in for a nice, tame night of hockey. He took a swig as he watched two players crunch into the protective plastic.

 

The debrief on the Avisah had been a bit surreal and draining for Jack. Yes, sir. They want to trade. No, sir. There were no Goa'uld. What, sir? What is on my shirt? That would be my so-called gay lover stamping his claim on me.

 

Jack took another swig. The briefing hadn't gone down exactly that way, but the handprint, the secret conspiratorial looks between Teal'c and Carter, and Daniel's uncharacteristically quiet nature had startled Hammond. Doc Fraiser had checked them out in the infirmary twice just to ease General Hammond's fears. Later, Jack told him a little more about the ritual, in confidence, leaving out the insinuation, all of which seemed to ease Hammond's distress.

 

Now, he was just waiting for the fallout.

 

There was a knock on the door. That would be it.

 

Jack rose to his feet and made his way over to the door. When he opened it, he wasn't surprised to see Daniel standing on his porch, jacket in his arms, waiting for Jack to answer. This whole scenario had the distinct feel of déjà vu.

 

"We're closed," Jack said to him, holding up the bottle. "Massages and fake marriage ceremonies start at oh-nine hundred hours."

 

Daniel frowned and sent Jack an impatient look. He followed Jack into the living room, but still hadn't said a word.

 

"So, what brings you here tonight?" Jack asked, easing himself back onto the couch. "I'm sure it's not for the hockey. Though, I have some paint in the garage."

 

"I guess I deserve that."

 

Jack exhaled into his bottle. Jokes served for something that definitely was not a laughing matter. The whole little sham of the ritual wasn't a big deal. Daniel's post-Ascension issues were more of a big deal. But that wasn't what this was about at all. He knew that the two of them were making a big deal out of nothing. But it was precisely the nothing that had him confused. And it was the nothing – the never talk and never tell – that had brought Daniel here tonight.

 

Daniel was standing by the couch, his coat still in his arms. Jack had the impression he wasn't going to stay.

 

Which was a shame.

 

Jack shifted uncomfortably.

 

"Do you…Did you want me to –?" Daniel motioned with a shrug of his shoulder to the door.

 

"No. No." With a sigh, Jack waved his arm and motioned to the couch and chairs. He watched Daniel take a seat next to him before he drank again.

 

"So, you think drinking will solve all of your problems?" Daniel asked.

 

"Hey, who said it was a problem?"

 

"Is it?"

 

"No," Jack said, but even he wasn't convinced.

 

He wasn't sure. It should be a problem. Not the drinking, but the other thing. He was sure it was a problem, somehow. He was sure the enjoyment he got out of helping Daniel obtain his strength was a problem. He was certain that everything that ever came before today was a problem, too. Part of him wanted nothing but to fix the problem. The other part just wanted to give up and give into it.

 

Daniel reached over and took the bottle from Jack's hands and placed it on the coffee table. He waited patiently for Jack to speak. Jack didn't know what to say.

 

Daniel sighed and was the first to speak. He never could take the silence. "I have a lot of unfinished business. There are still things I can't remember. I've left so much behind."

 

"Yeah." Jack could relate to that feeling. He knew what that was like, in a sense. "But that's not what we're talking about here. Not exactly."

 

"No," Daniel admitted. "Not exactly."

 

"You didn't just pick me because you 'admired' me." Jack gave Daniel a stern look. "Did you?"

 

"No," Daniel said again. "Just like you didn't accept just because I asked you."

 

"No."

 

Jack focused all his energy on the TV, rubbing his tightened fits down the length of his thighs. He felt better watching the tube, following the hockey players as they fought for their goal. Everything made sense there. There were rules. There was structure. There was accomplishment. It always clicked and clicked in all the right ways.

 

"Hockey is a fascinating sport, from an anthropological point of view," Daniel said suddenly, vaguely pointing to the screen before letting his hand drop. "Like all sports, it's governed by a series of rules and regulations."

 

Jack shot his a wary look before returning to his game. He wasn't sure where Daniel was going with this, but he didn't want him ruining yet another sport for him by going all scholarly. "Rules are meant to be broken."

 

"But there are always rules that are put in place to correct those rules. It's all very ordered," he said. "Not all that different than life, really."

 

"Yeah, that's great." Jack was starting to second-guess his desire to have Daniel stay with him, even despite the confusion.

 

"But it all comes down to one thing in the end."

 

"Oh yeah?" Jack asked. "And what's that?"

 

"Men playing with their sticks."

 

Jack arched his eyebrows at the comment, trying to stay neutral in light of what Daniel had said. But he found the corners of his mouth lifting, and to the point where he couldn't help but chuckle. Daniel's face not only mirrored his smile, but it beamed with mischief.

 

That's when Jack knew that despite all the confusion, the mixed emotions, and the craziness, somehow it was going to be okay. They would be okay. And in the end, they would figure things out.

 

They always did.

 

THE END

 

 

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