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Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
Woods or steepy mountain yields. - Christopher Marlowe
It was hot. Even for July in DC, it was hot. This was the time of year everyone deserted the Capital. Congress scurried back to their home states, the President and his brood seemed to have permanently moved to Camp David and those unfortunate few forced to stay were wilting in the daily heat wave.
Even Daniel, that flower of the desert, was limp in the face of days of ninety-plus temps and oppressive humidity. By the time they’d retrieved Jack’s truck, they were both damp and sticky. “What a week,” Daniel buzzed the window down and waited for the hot air inside to merge with the hot air outside.
“It’ll cool off once we get moving,” Jack flipped his ID as they stopped at the guard booth.
“Have a great weekend, General O’Neill.”
“You, too, Sid.”
Daniel watched idly out the window until he realized he didn’t recognize the scenery. “What’s going on?”
“I just wanted to show you something,” Jack fiddled with the temperature controls. If Daniel hadn’t known better, he would have sworn the man was nervous.
“Okay,” Daniel relaxed in his seat, letting the cooled air waft over his face, almost drifting to sleep.
Jack glanced over with an indulgent smile; it always amazed him how someone as tall as Daniel could adjust himself to fit any space. Daniel straightened up when he heard voices, realized that Jack was speaking to yet another guard in yet another booth. However, this one was surrounded by flowers and a stone wall.
“Where are we?” Daniel peered at the well-manicured, tree-lined streets.
“Arlington.” Jack swung the truck into the wide front drive of a softly mellowed brick two-story Colonial style house.
Daniel eyed the house as he got out. Surrounded by large trees, the house sat a few steps back from the circular drive. “It’s pretty.”
Jack opened the door, knowing that curiosity would draw Daniel in behind him. The entryway was warm and bright with gleaming wood floors, anchored by a central stairway. He slid open the pocket doors on his right. “Parlor or something over here. Living room over there.” Daniel peered through the open doors on the left. Not a huge room but big enough for a fireplace and some large windows. He followed Jack down the hall, inspecting a bedroom before finding Jack in an airy kitchen. “Kitchen’s been redone. They knocked out the wall to the formal dining room and made it one big room, built a garage. Three more bedrooms and bathrooms upstairs. And there’s enough attic space to store a lot of junk.”
“Jack,” Daniel opened French doors to see a brick patio beyond the screened porch. “Is there a reason we’re breaking in to someone’s house?”
“Didn’t exactly break in.” Jack pointed out.
“No, you just…” Daniel stopped. “Are you thinking about buying this house, Jack?”
“Well, I kinda, sorta…”
“Already bought it?”
“Yeah, kinda.”
“Why? I thought you liked the condo?”
“It’s okay, Daniel, but I miss looking out at trees and being able to throw something on the grill. And I wanted more room.”
Daniel eyed him suspiciously. “Because?”
“I need room for a lot of books,” he slid Daniel a glance, gauging his reaction. “And for a piano.” His tone deepened. “Dammit, Daniel, I don’t want to wait for you any longer. I don’t want to lie awake and wait for a phone call telling me you’re gone again. I want you here, I need you here. I want to come here every night and be home with you.”
“What about SG-1? The SGC?”
“SG-1’s all but disbanded anyway. Carter’s in Nevada, Teal’c’s off building the Jaffa nation. George has been making noises about requesting your transfer to DC. There’s plenty you can do here. If you want?” Jack seemed tentative.
“Jack, it’s all I’ve wanted for the past five years.” Daniel replied, his voice trembling slightly.
“Come live with me, Daniel, and be my love.” Jack whispered.
“Jack, we can’t.”
“Don’t ask, don’t tell no longer applies. I love you and you love me. Anything else is just details that can be worked out. Come here.” Jack took his hand and towed him to the living room. “Happy birthday,” Jack pointed out a small wrapped box on the mantel.
“Hmm,” Daniel picked it up. “Doesn’t weigh much. Maybe it’s cash?” He speculated with a grin before easing the lid off and finding a key. Taking it out, he examined it. “Jack, this looks suspiciously like a…house key?” Jack was grinning wickedly. “Tell me you didn’t buy me a house for my birthday?”
“Ok, I didn’t buy you a house. I bought us a house.” He settled his hands on either side of Daniel’s waist. “I figure I won’t have to buy you anything for the next thirty or so years.”
Daniel pulled him into his arms. “Don’t think you’re getting off that easy. We have to buy furniture and I want to see the bedrooms; we might have to paint and…”
Jack kissed him. “We’ll think about all that tomorrow. Tonight, we have dinner reservations.”
“And cake?” Daniel stuck the key in his pocket and took Jack’s hand.
“Always cake.” Jack agreed as he let Daniel lead him out the door.