Actions

Work Header

Jack/Daniel Humor Drabbles & Micro Fiction

Chapter Text

Thor turns to Jack, a smile in his voice. "Please repeat after me: I, O'Neill."

Jack is dashing in his suit, more handsome than Daniel remembers him being. "I, uh, Jack." His voice is strong and confident, warm and filled with so much love.

Thor again, "Take you, Samantha." Daniel's heart hitches, a reminder of how painful this really is.

Jack smiles, his eyes starry. "Take you, Daniel."

A murmur shoots through the crowd as Daniel's heart leaps to his throat. Jack doesn't even bother correcting himself. He just shrugs apologetically to Sam, turning to Daniel, who sways on his feet.

"Not much of a secret now, huh?"

Daniel gulps, loudly, staring at Jack's hand as it clamps his shoulder. "It, um. . . ." He steps closer, dropping his voice to a whisper. "What were you thinking?"

"That I wanted it to be you." Jack rolls his eyes.

Sam hits Jack with her bouquet. "I had one shot, O’Neill. One! You two are the only guys I know who keep coming back from the dead. No other men are sturdy enough to date me."

"Carter!" Jack bats at her onslaught, abused roses exploding over the altar. "You knew it was just a ruse."

Carter shoves her bouquet at Daniel, grumbling, "Always a bridesmaid."

Thor coughs, gaining their attention. "Well, if you do not require my assistance any longer. . . ."

Daniel hedges. "Actually, it'd be nice if you could help explain. . . ."

But Thor beams away before Daniel can actually finish his sentence.

"Bastard."

"General O'Neill?" Landry walks the aisle, two members of his flagship team shrinking off to one side of the altar, leaving their friend, co-conspirator, and deviant former-leader to face the music alone.

"Hank," Jack says, spreading his arms wide, invitingly. "Everyone loves a wedding."

Sam and Daniel, pushing a limp bouquet between them, both mumble, "No, they don't."

"Wait a second!" Mitchell nearly jumps out of his seat. "You mean you two are. . . ." He makes some complicated gestures with his hands that might be pornographic, but are so frenetic that it's difficult to tell.

Daniel's eyes slide to Jack's and Mitchell just says in awe, "That explains so much."

"Doesn't it?" Jack grins, squeezing Daniel's ass and earning a yelp.

"General, this is no laughing matter. There are regulations." There's a softness to Landry, a genuine concern for a friend who has finally dug himself a hole that is too deep.

"Bah." Jack waves off the concern. "We'll keep it quiet. Just us members of SG-1. And Walter. And that guy over there. And her. And—Carter, is that your brother?"

Landry gives up, sighs and shakes his head.

"Don't we have some device that alters memories?"

"Sir!" Sam barks, scientifically and ethically outraged.

Jack shrugs one shoulder. "Oh, like these people can't keep a secret."

"So," Vala ventures from the bride's side of the altar. "Does that mean there won't be a wedding?"

"Guess not," Jack says. "Not only are we both," Jack gestures between himself and Daniel, "But we're lacking an officiant."

"Ha!" Vala hitches her dress and takes up the officiant's place. "It just so happens that I'm an ordained minister in the little known local religion on this tiny moon of a planet called Schwindler." Daniel blinks at her, trying to siphon off the bullshit. "I can perform the ceremony. I swear."

Daniel closes his eyes, silently praying that he'll open his eyes and be naked and late to an exam, thus proving that this is just a horrible nightmare. One eye cracks open: still dressed. Two eyes: no exam. Damnit.

"Dearly beloved." The words miraculously silence the murmuring and people regain their seats, confusedly focusing on the bizarreness that tends to coalesce around SG-1. "We are gathered here today to celebrate the love and devotion of these two dear friends." Vala leans slightly, waving them toward each other. "Join hands, join hands."

Jack takes Daniel's hand, hot blushes washing both of their faces. Though he never dared to imagine this—never really wanted this—Daniel has to admit that it's actually quite nice. And Vala's words are surprisingly tender and lovely.

"Now they stand before us, ready to commit themselves to one another and—Daniel, darling." Vala leans again, her voice silky in Daniel's ear. "Are you sure you're ready for this? We could step aside for a few moments, properly prepare you." She winks at Jack, earning a stifled smile in response.

"And so," Vala continues without missing a step, "We, their friends, are here to support them and witness this commitment." Vala waves at them both. "Are you committed?"

"Daniel's been committed before," Jack announces.

"You should both be committed," Daniel mutters.

"Perfect," Vala declares. "Then by the powers vested in me by the Symmetric Figures of the Divine Church of the Schwindlers, I pronounce you husband and husband."

The applause sound somewhat confused.

Vala leans over again, her left breast poised for escape. "You may kiss your husband."

"Er. . . ." Daniel turns, his lips suddenly feeling rubbery and useless.

"Don't be shy." Jack pulls Daniel close with an arm around his waist. His mouth presses against Daniel's, firm and pleasant. An insistent tongue pushes against Daniel's lower lip.

"Woah," Mitchell says. "More than I wanted to see."

Teal'c raises one eyebrow and (because he should have a line) simply says, "Indeed."

"All right, boys, all right." Vala steps forward, breaking them apart. Daniel sucks in a deep, shaky breath. "Process down the aisle, then."

"Mr. O'Neill," Jack says, indicating that Daniel should step in front of him.

"Oh, no. You can take my name."

"Excuse me. Jack Jackson? Why would you want to torture me?"

"Because you torture me every day." Daniel grabs Jack's hand, feeling the flutter in his heart settling down because this day went better than he could have imagined. There were even faces smiling at him, at them.

"That's no excuse," Jack mutters.

Daniel steals a kiss from Jack, preventing further debate.

 

And they all lived happily ever after!

Until Jack got pictures of Daniel drunk at the reception.