Syllepsis by Komos (NC-17)
Oct. 26th, 2007 01:59 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
abyssinia4077.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
stargateficrecRec Category: Sara O'Neill
Pairing: Jack O'Neill/Daniel Jackson, past Sara O'Neill/Jack O'Neill
Category: Sara O'Neill, Jack O'Neill, Daniel Jackson, Jack/Daniel, established relationship
Warning: explicit m/m sex near the end
Author on LJ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
paian
Author's Website: Enkomion (not recently updated)
LJ fic tag (I think comprehensive)
Link: On website: Syllepsis
On LJ: Syllepsis
Why This Must Be Read:
A Sara O'Neill fic for the Jack/Daniel shippers that works so very well. Komos starts with a Jack and Daniel in an established, though very not public, relationship, puts Daniel in Jack's house while Jack shops for groceries, and has Sara ring the doorbell. What follows is not a comical, soap opera-esque flair up but instead a strange, wonderful triangle between three adults who have all known loss and who all care about each other and can perhaps read each other a little too well.
The Sara Komos gives us is strong in her uncertainty, still held by the past but also able to move on and she accepts Jack and Daniel as they are much easier than she might. That she gives us all this from Daniel's perspective only makes the story more powerful.
"I just happened to be in-state," she said, leaning back against the counter, both hands wrapped around her mug. "I don't like to fly. I was driving back up to Iowa from a business conference in Phoenix, and I thought I'd stop off at the cemetery, leave flowers for Charlie. Then I thought that maybe it was time I stopped avoiding Jack when I stop in Colorado to do that. So I tried calling, yesterday. It was on the late side; I didn't want to ... Well. I stayed overnight in Denver. I suppose it was almost on a dare. To see if I had the guts to just drop by today. Sunday morning seemed safer."
"He was probably at work," Daniel said, picking his way through the minefield of the personal and the classified. "There's a, you know, a project."
She waved past him, at the dining table. "So I gather."
A glint, a flash, something in her eyes implied a double entendre. The olive oil was out and out of place because Jack had done him on that table last night when they'd come back from base, late, after the thing on P39-238.
He started to say something small-talky, ask about her trip, something, anything, but he'd only just drawn breath when she said, "Does he make that deep-chest sound with you? The one that sounds like bronchitis, the end of a bad cold when the cough is way down in the lungs?"
He blinked at her, then flushed deeply. He turned away too late to hide it. Jack did make that sound. When he really lost it, when he came really, really hard, he'd groan from deep in his lungs like that, as if someone had punched him in the chest.
"Are you living here now?" she asked, still perfectly matter-of-fact, but more quietly.
"No, ma'am," he answered softly, toward the window. Half a lie was still half the truth.
They could hear Jack's truck pulling up into the driveway.
"Is he happy, Daniel?" she asked. This time her tone was gentle, but there were overtones of something else. Not quite pain, not quite wistfulness. Something ...
Daniel made himself look at her. "I think so," he answered, honestly, with direct eye contact. "As happy as he can be, under the circumstances. All the circumstances."
She nodded, reappraising him. Appreciating the straight answer. "And does he talk to you? Really talk? You seem like the kind of person that even Jack might open up to."
Daniel's gaze dropped. It was a terrible question. His heart was pounding wildly; he could hear the tailgate drop, he knew Jack would be kicking the door in a second, arms full of grocery bags. He wanted to tell her that it wasn't her, it had never been her, that Jack had changed; but Jack hadn't changed, not in that, and if he could talk to Daniel because Daniel had been through some of the same things he had, then it was her, it had been her, because she hadn't. A yes answer would condemn her. But she was the kind of person you told the truth to, and he was the kind of person who told the truth. The whole truth, when possible.
He nodded, forcing his eyes back up.
She smiled. There was only the faintest glimmer of tears. "I'm glad," she said, in a whisper. "I was afraid he'd always be alone."
Pairing: Jack O'Neill/Daniel Jackson, past Sara O'Neill/Jack O'Neill
Category: Sara O'Neill, Jack O'Neill, Daniel Jackson, Jack/Daniel, established relationship
Warning: explicit m/m sex near the end
Author on LJ
paianAuthor's Website: Enkomion (not recently updated)
LJ fic tag (I think comprehensive)
Link: On website: Syllepsis
On LJ: Syllepsis
Why This Must Be Read:
A Sara O'Neill fic for the Jack/Daniel shippers that works so very well. Komos starts with a Jack and Daniel in an established, though very not public, relationship, puts Daniel in Jack's house while Jack shops for groceries, and has Sara ring the doorbell. What follows is not a comical, soap opera-esque flair up but instead a strange, wonderful triangle between three adults who have all known loss and who all care about each other and can perhaps read each other a little too well.
The Sara Komos gives us is strong in her uncertainty, still held by the past but also able to move on and she accepts Jack and Daniel as they are much easier than she might. That she gives us all this from Daniel's perspective only makes the story more powerful.
"I just happened to be in-state," she said, leaning back against the counter, both hands wrapped around her mug. "I don't like to fly. I was driving back up to Iowa from a business conference in Phoenix, and I thought I'd stop off at the cemetery, leave flowers for Charlie. Then I thought that maybe it was time I stopped avoiding Jack when I stop in Colorado to do that. So I tried calling, yesterday. It was on the late side; I didn't want to ... Well. I stayed overnight in Denver. I suppose it was almost on a dare. To see if I had the guts to just drop by today. Sunday morning seemed safer."
"He was probably at work," Daniel said, picking his way through the minefield of the personal and the classified. "There's a, you know, a project."
She waved past him, at the dining table. "So I gather."
A glint, a flash, something in her eyes implied a double entendre. The olive oil was out and out of place because Jack had done him on that table last night when they'd come back from base, late, after the thing on P39-238.
He started to say something small-talky, ask about her trip, something, anything, but he'd only just drawn breath when she said, "Does he make that deep-chest sound with you? The one that sounds like bronchitis, the end of a bad cold when the cough is way down in the lungs?"
He blinked at her, then flushed deeply. He turned away too late to hide it. Jack did make that sound. When he really lost it, when he came really, really hard, he'd groan from deep in his lungs like that, as if someone had punched him in the chest.
"Are you living here now?" she asked, still perfectly matter-of-fact, but more quietly.
"No, ma'am," he answered softly, toward the window. Half a lie was still half the truth.
They could hear Jack's truck pulling up into the driveway.
"Is he happy, Daniel?" she asked. This time her tone was gentle, but there were overtones of something else. Not quite pain, not quite wistfulness. Something ...
Daniel made himself look at her. "I think so," he answered, honestly, with direct eye contact. "As happy as he can be, under the circumstances. All the circumstances."
She nodded, reappraising him. Appreciating the straight answer. "And does he talk to you? Really talk? You seem like the kind of person that even Jack might open up to."
Daniel's gaze dropped. It was a terrible question. His heart was pounding wildly; he could hear the tailgate drop, he knew Jack would be kicking the door in a second, arms full of grocery bags. He wanted to tell her that it wasn't her, it had never been her, that Jack had changed; but Jack hadn't changed, not in that, and if he could talk to Daniel because Daniel had been through some of the same things he had, then it was her, it had been her, because she hadn't. A yes answer would condemn her. But she was the kind of person you told the truth to, and he was the kind of person who told the truth. The whole truth, when possible.
He nodded, forcing his eyes back up.
She smiled. There was only the faintest glimmer of tears. "I'm glad," she said, in a whisper. "I was afraid he'd always be alone."
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Date: 2007-10-26 09:31 pm (UTC)Beautiful work, I enjoyed it immensely.
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Date: 2007-10-27 12:36 am (UTC)Glad you enjoyed it!
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Date: 2007-10-27 12:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-28 04:30 am (UTC)You're very welcome for the rec!
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Date: 2007-11-06 07:56 pm (UTC)*ponders similar lack*
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Date: 2009-11-13 05:20 pm (UTC)Thanks again for the wonderful rec!