TITLE: Two Hand Touch
AUTHOR: Darcy
EMAIL: Darcy3011@yahoo.com  
CATEGORY: ER, Silliness
PAIRING: Jack/Daniel
RATING: PG- 13 - Slash
SPOILERS: None 
SEASON/SEQUEL: No
DATE: September 2003
STATUS: Complete
CONTENT WARNINGS: None 
SUMMARY: Jack plays a little game of street football.
NOTES: Thank you to Babs, Devra and Jo who helped me come up with an ending for this silly little fic on chat one night many moons ago. And, as always, a special thanks to Jo for the beta.

Two Hand Touch 

"I'll get it." Daniel jumped up to answer the ringing doorbell that interrupted their first home cooked meal in two weeks. Jack nodded and kept right on shoveling in the pasta. 

Three boys, barely into their teens stood outside the door. They seemed slightly disappointed at the sight of him, but still managed a few mumbled, 'Hi Daniels', before stating their business. 

"Can Jack come out and play football with us?"

Daniel bit his lower lip and tried not to laugh. "Jack's eating dinner right now, but I'll tell him you came by."

Apparently, Spencer, the boy Daniel recognized as their paperboy, didn't trust his message giving skills. "Could you tell him now, please?" he asked politely.

Daniel raised his eyebrows in amusement and held up an index finger before traipsing back into the dining room. "Jack, some friends of yours are here. They want to know if you want to play football."

"Only if I can be the quarterback," Jack roared, dropping his fork down on to his plate. "Tell them that's the only way I'll play. I'm too old to be running up and down the street trying to catch their wobbly passes."

Daniel rolled his eyes at Jack's indignation and went back to the door to relay the response. "He says only if he can be the quarterback." Daniel watched with interest as Spencer and his two buddies contemplated the idea, whispering amongst themselves before finally agreeing to Jack's ultimatum. 

"Deal," Spencer said.

Daniel jumped when Jack clapped his hands in excitement not two feet behind his ear. "Let's go, boys!" 

"Jack!" Daniel said sharply. "We didn't finish eating." All three of the kids' faces fell at Daniel's admonishment. 

"I was pretty much finished." Jack was already throwing on a sweatshirt and looking for his Nikes. 

The three pairs of eyes perked up and glowed happily through the screen door at Jack's response.

"But I made dessert." Daniel didn't try to hide his disappointment.

Three heads turned to Jack waiting for his answer. "Couldn't we eat the dessert later?" Jack asked, bending down to tie up his laces.

Daniel noted how all three of the boys' heads turned hopefully towards him. He wasn't about to succumb to the pressure of a bunch of teenybopper sports nuts. He had spent hours on this dinner. He peered at Jack over the rim of his glasses. "You're planning on sticking me with the clean up, then?" 

"Oops." Jack smiled at his little friends. "You guys go round up a few more players and give me about twenty minutes." 

"Sure, Jack," Spencer agreed happily. Daniel could swear the three of them shot hostile glares in his direction before turning back down the steps to proceed with their mission. 

"Wanna come out and play?" Jack asked Daniel as he put away the last dish.

"Football?" Daniel asked, a little stunned by the idea. 

"Yes, football. It's just two hand touch. There's no tackling involved. You're fast. You could outrun all those little runts. We could kick ass."

"Um... Jack, as appealing as that sounds I think I'm going to finish that book I've been reading."

Jack came up behind his lover and wrapped his arms around his shoulders and squeezed him in what amounted to a big bear hug. "Come on, Danny. Don't be such a stick in the mud." With a peck on the cheek Jack released him.

Daniel was all serious in laying out the facts. "First of all, Jack, I don't really play football. I'm not even sure if I could catch the ball. And second, I don't think your little friends like me very much."

Jack shook his head. "You are so paranoid, you know that. Why wouldn't they like you?"

Daniel pulled away. "Just a feeling I get," he smiled. "You go. Go play football."

After a few more minutes of tidying up, Daniel threw on a sweatshirt, grabbed his book and a lawn chair and sat out on the front step to read and to watch Jack play with the kids.

After an initial 'hello' wave, Daniel settled in, intermittently smiling at Jack's antics and reading a page or two. 

Daniel looked up from his book and frowned. Jack appeared to be limping. When the hell did that happen? It was very slight, Daniel had to focus in on him for a few minutes to be sure but... yes, Jack was definitely limping. 

Daniel stuck a bookmark in the page he was reading and headed into the street, forcing Jack to call a time out in the middle of a play. None of the ten or so kids that had gathered looked too happy with him. Daniel realized he was getting the same glare that the drivers of the cars received when they dared to interrupt the game by driving down the street.

"Jack, I think it's time to go in now." He didn't want to embarrass Jack by pointing out the obvious.

"Thirty more minutes and it'll be dark," Jack said, looking confused by Daniel's sudden need to go inside.

"Yeah, it's not dark yet." Daniel heard a couple of the kids mutter in Jack's defense. "Everyone gets to stay out until it's dark."

"Jack." 

"What, Daniel? We have a tie score here. What is it?" Daniel fidgeted as he heard the angry mob of kids groan their agreement.

"You're limping." 

"Am not," Jack predictably argued.

"He's not," the irritated teens agreed.

"Jack, I can tell you're favoring your right leg." Daniel folded his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow, daring Jack to disagree.

Jack opened his mouth but one look at Daniel made him shut it and reconsider. "Okay, maybe. Maybe my right knee is just a little sore... but I am not limping!" he argued. 

"He's not." The adolescents chimed in, rallying behind their quarterback.

Daniel uncrossed his arms and pushed his glasses further up his nose. "Then how did I know it was your right leg?" 

The kids looked at Jack, silently urging him on for a snappy reply. They were sorely disappointed when their quarterback shrugged his shoulders, tossed them the ball and told them he was calling it a night.

Halfway to the house Jack remembered the water bottle he'd left by the curb. "I'll get it," Daniel offered. 

As Daniel approached the street he could hear a few of the kids talking. "Poor Jack," one of them exclaimed. "He must not have any fun at all. Daniel's worse than my mother." Others muttered their agreement.

"Yeah, Jack said Daniel knows how to suck the fun out of everything." Spencer blushed when he realized Daniel was retrieving Jack's water no more than a few feet away and had more than likely heard the remark. 

Daniel got the gimpy quarterback situated on the couch. His right leg was elevated, supported by the arm of the sofa and two pillows. An ice pack was currently on the knee in question. 

"It's not that bad," Jack tried to assure him.

"Jack, we're going off world tomorrow. Do you really want to risk making it worse because of a street football game?"

"No," Jack agreed mildly, pulling on Daniel's arm. "Sit with me."

Daniel responded with a nod and pulled the pillow out from under Jack's head, replacing it on his lap as he sat. Jack repositioned his head on the pillowed lap. Daniel gazed down at the grizzled face he loved as Jack settled in, smiling up at him.

"This is cozy," Jack commented, sounding pleased with himself. "Is something wrong, Daniel?"

"No. I was just thinking about your little friends outside." Daniel looked down at Jack and absently ran his hand through the silver hair.

"What about them?" 

"Twelve year olds didn't like me when I was twelve and they don't like me now." Daniel blushed shyly at the admission.

"Why would you say that?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because I suck the fun out of everything." Daniel watched Jack take a second to process the comment and realize he was being quoted.

Jack chuckled. "Yes, I did say that but only as a joke. It was the day we were playing street hockey in the rain and you insisted I come inside."

"You already had a cold," Daniel stubbornly maintained. "I was afraid it would turn into something worse. It seemed ridiculous to be out in the street..."

"Daniel," Jack interrupted. "I was teasing."

"I don't suck the fun out of everything?"

"No, you don't. As a matter of fact, the reverse may be true. I find the more sucking you do, the more fun I have."

"JACK! Actually," Daniel leaned over to plant a kiss on Jack's lips. "That made no sense at all." Daniel chuckled at Jack, who wasted no time pulling himself up into a sitting position in response to the kiss. 

"Are we going to neck on the couch now?" Daniel flirted openly.

"Oh, I think I can manage a little more than that." Jack eagerly pulled off his sweatshirt and then helped Daniel out of his. Daniel felt Jack pushing him down on the sofa and offered no resistance. 

"Do you think this is wise with your knee?" Daniel managed to spit out before Jack covered his mouth with his own.

By the time Jack began hastily working Daniel's zipper down they were both too far gone to care. "OW! Jack, wait... your elbow is in my digging into my stomach. Just let me turn a little bit..."

"Daniel!" Jack yelled as they both rolled onto the floor with a crash. Daniel heard Jack yell 'shit' as the injured knee slammed down on the hardwood floor. There was no time for sympathy as Daniel tumbled after him yelling a 'shit' of his own when his rib caged smacked against the coffee table. 

~~~~

"First of all, tomorrow's mission is officially scrubbed and General Hammond is waiting for my report. Now, how did this happen?" Janet had her hands on her hips, not the least bit happy at seeing two of her most frequent patients in the infirmary on their day off.

"Well, we, uh, I think I..." Daniel grimaced at the pain in his recently wrapped ribcage, struggling to come up with a logical explanation for the injuries.

"Yes? Go on," Janet urged without sympathy.

Daniel studied the bandage carefully to avoid looking into the demanding doctor's eyes. "I might have hurt it on the last mission... and just now noticed it?" He looked up hopefully.

"Me too!" Jack quickly chimed in. 

Janet wasn't swayed. "Your last mission was over a week ago and neither of you had these injuries. I examined both of you myself." She folded her arms and glared at the two of them. "Now spill it. I'm waiting."

"Yard work?" Jack tested the waters.

"Colonel!" Janet admonished. "I am you're doctor. You have to be truthful with your doctor. I need to know all the details of all of your injuries in order to evaluate you. It serves no purpose to lie to me. Now I'll ask you again... just how were the two of you injured?"

Daniel snuck a sideways glance at his partner in crime as an idea formed in his mind. "Two hand touch," he admitted truthfully, looking properly ashamed. Let Janet draw her own inferences. 

Jack caught on quickly. "No tackling, Doc. Honest," he added, hoping to appease the relentless woman.

"Aren't you two a little old for street football?" Janet asked warily.

Bingo! "Yes," they both chimed in unison, looking properly chastised. 

"Trust me, Doc, no more football," Daniel promised as relief flooded through him. "Right Jack?"

"Right," Jack agreed with a wink. "Football is definitely out."

~~finis~~