Fledglings by CK (NC-17)

[green-grrl.livejournal.com]

Anyone in the mood for tropes? I'm in the mood for tropes!

Show: Stargate SG-1

Rec Category: Jack O'Neill/Daniel Jackson
Characters: Daniel Jackson, Jack O'Neill
Pairing: Jack O'Neill/Daniel Jackson
Het/Slash/Gen: slash
Warning: none
Author on LJ: muck_a_luck
Author's Website: LJ index
Link: on Dreamwidth / on Livejournal

Why This Must Be Read: Wingfic! There's not a whole lot of it in SG-1, but hey, alien worlds, alien technology—c'mon. CK had actually written two short wing!fic pieces previously, and then went all out for this year's Stargate Summer with 20K words of yummy avian action.

Here, Jack's been commanding an offworld mining post ever since he grew wings. Daniel comes to set up a research facility while recovering from an injury, and we're off into courtship rituals and alien encounters. And Jack being far too hot in his new feathered state!


Excerpt:
Daniel's life settled into a happy rhythm of collegial research with his residents and visiting SGC scientists during the day, reading and translating in Jack's aerie by night. He had briefings galore, of course, and the business of managing his department.

Unfortunately, his leg didn't seem to be improving. His other business was physical therapy, and his physical therapist wasn't happy. No SG-1 for Daniel in the near future. Pure research was fantastic, but sometimes Daniel missed the camaraderie. Of course, he had been missing Jack for months already before his injury. To everything there is a season he reminded himself.

Living with Jack was not as difficult as Daniel had imagined it might be. While Daniel went about his quiet tasks and hobbies, Jack would lounge on one of his strange, low-backed benches or chairs, watching TIVO'd Simpsons episodes, or sometimes Discovery Channel nature programs (Daniel was sure it was not his imagination that they were too frequently about small mammals. They were viewed with an intensity that Daniel found frankly unsettling), or hockey. Jack didn't care that Daniel was a slob with paper and Daniel didn't care that Jack was a restless pacer.

In his aerie, Jack discarded the shirt-contraptions and his belt. Jack never mentioned it, but Daniel presumed that they must constrain or chafe or otherwise be uncomfortable. Daniel knew people noticed the pale silver-blue feathers that peeked occasionally from Jack's hair, but he suspected that no one aside from himself and the base physician were aware of the fine, soft, translucent layer that insulated Jack's torso and biceps, and disappeared into the waistband of his low-riding jeans.

One night, Daniel looked up from his reading thoughtfully, his eyes falling on Jack, who was sitting right in his line of sight.

At first, he thought Jack was scratching a really persistent itch, but then he realized – Jack was preening. As Jack stared at the glowing television screen, he was methodically passing his fingers through his feathers. Daniel jerked his eyes back to his book. He wondered if Jack was even aware he was doing it.