Title: Weirdly ever after


Email: [email protected], Mmm . . . crunchy, munchy feedback!
Author’s Notes: Part of me loves the idea of Jack as househusband, getting some well-earned rest after a life of service. I've read some great fic in that vein. Unfortunately, my brain decided that it spits on happy ever after and wanted to see what happens next. Hence, the move from happy!smut to plot. Sorry.

Chapter II: Oblah di oblah DOH!
Pt. i of v in this chapter (rated PG, sadly; sorry, Sam & Jack are busy people!)

Jack was more comfortable than he could ever remember being. A light breeze filtered in through the slightly open windows of his bedroom, parting the curtains briefly, allowing through a shaft of light that fell directly over his eyes. Still half asleep, he turned his head slightly to evade the sudden brightness, pressing his nose into warm flesh in the process.

He smiled with sleepy pleasure, determined to settle back in and enjoy an unusually nice dream for once when the phone started to ring. Groaning slightly, he pressed his ear into the pillow, trying to drown out the sound. The longer it persisted, the more determined he became to resist. He shifted more completely on his side and tucked his knee more firmly between Sam’s.

Sam’s . . . SAM! Naked Sam! Jack shouted inside his head, suddenly very awake and panicked. A variety of thoughts crowded his wooly brain, many of them “Wows” interspersed with “Whoas” and the occasional “What?” which he batted away impatiently.

As the phone continued to chirp, a portion of his reptile brain suggested that he might want to grab it before it woke her. For a moment, he slipped an arm around her waist and pressed himself closely to her naked back. He kissed her gently just under the ear and whispered, “Mmmm . . . morning, Sam. Don’t go away!” before scooting carefully backward and out of the bed.

Grabbing a t-shirt and boxers from the top of the laundry pile, he hustled to the kitchen and yanked the cordless phone from its base.

“What?” He barked in a fierce whisper as he stumbled into the legs of his boxers.

“Morning, Jack!” Daniel’s irritatingly cheery voice came down the line.

“Daniel? What the hell time is it?” Jack demanded. He shifted the phone to his other ear so he could slide his left arm into the sleeve of his black t-shirt.

“It’s early, I’m sorry Jack. I hope you’re not too . . . under the weather?”

“I’m not hungover, Daniel. I’m fine.” Jack held the phone away from him to slip the shirt over his head.

“Great. Glad to hear it,” Daniel’s voice came to him faintly from an arm’s length away. “Listen, Jack, I’m sorry to wake you, but it’s Sam I really need to talk to.”

“Well, too bad. She’s sleeping,” Jack said with annoyance as he pressed the phone back to his ear as he pulled the shirt down. Realizing his slip, he froze, “I mean, it’s early. I’m sure she’s sleeping. SG-1’s on downtime, you know. Probably . . . definitely shouldn’t call her,” he added lamely.

An eternity passed in silence from the other end of the phone. Jack began to think he’d gotten lucky and the earth had swallowed him up. Finally, he heard the sound of a palm scraping across the mouthpiece.

Daniel had uncovered it just a moment too soon and Jack heard Teal’c’s voice in the background, “It is as I said it would be down to the last detail, DanielJackson.

Daniel’s response was muted, as if his head were still turned away from the phone, “Don’t gloat, Teal’c, it’s rude. You there, Jack?” He asked, his voice clearer.

“Oh, I’m here, Daniel.” Jack responded through clenched teeth, stalking into the living room in an attempt to get as far from his bedroom as possible.

Daniel could hardly suppress his laughter, “Well, Teal’c and I just called to see how you’re enjoying your retirement so far.”

“Oh, it’s great, Dannyboy. You know one of the best things about it? l get in a whole lot less trouble today for beating you with your own arm than I would have yesterday.” Jack hissed, as Daniel erupted into guffaws on the other end. “Daniel, I swear to you . . .” Jack broke off his threat as he noticed an inordinate amount of activity in the street outside his house.

He rushed to the front door and yanked it open as a black and white pulled up in his driveway, lights flashing. He blinked in confusion as two suits made their way cautiously up the steps, hands on their sidearms. In the distance, uniforms crouched behind their vehicles for cover, weapons drawn and trained on the door.

“Whoa!” Jack exclaimed softly, holding his arms palm outward at shoulder level, Daniel and Teal’c’s combined laughter over the phone line providing an incongruous accompaniment to the scene. “Something I can help you all with,” Jack asked with feigned casualness.

“Colonel John O’Neill?” One of the suits inquired warily.

“Retired. And it’s Jack,” he replied just as warily.

“Sir, you’re wanted for questioning in connection with two murders. It’d be best for you if you came with us voluntarily,” the second suit intoned.

Daniel and Teal’c seemed to have regained their composure, and Daniel’s voice emanated suddenly from the phone, “Jack? You there? I’m sorry, it’s just . . . well, we’re happy for you two! Jack? Jack!”

The two detectives’ eyes drifted toward the phone, then back to Jack, who turned away from the doorway, “I’m gonna need pants,” he sighed.

“Sir!” Suit #1 barked, “I need you to stay right here with your hands where we can see them!”

Jack whirled around, seeming to create a beam of bright light with the movement, “I’m not going anywhere without . . .” he snapped. And disappeared.

Continue on to Chapter II, part ii