TITLE: The Things We Do For Love

AUTHOR: Darcy

EMAIL: Darcy3011@yahoo.com

CATEGORY: Slash, ER, Humor

PAIRING: Jack/Daniel

RATING: PG

SPOILERS: None

SEASON/SEQUEL: Any season/no sequel

DATE: April 2003

STATUS: Complete

CONTENT WARNINGS: None

SUMMARY: The continuing adventures of Daniel's sweater.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This fic was written in response to a challenge on the AG.

The Things We Do For Love

"Jack, have you seen my sweater?" Daniel yelled from the bedroom.

"What sweater is that?" Jack appeared at the bottom of the stairs. He had a bad feeling he knew precisely which sweater.

"The cream colored one. You know the one with the kind of V-neck. I've had it forever."

Jack's silence was deafening.

"Jack?" Daniel appeared in the kitchen where Jack was busy whipping up some bacon and eggs in a hasty effort to create a diversion.

"Bacon and eggs, Daniel. I know you have to go into work this morning so I thought I'd get you started with a nice breakfast and some fresh coffee."

Daniel folded his arms, lowered his head ever so slightly, pursed his lips, raised his eyebrows, and fixed his gaze on his target. "The sweater, Jack."

Good Lord, Danny. Jack assumed that particular pose was meant to prove Daniel's determination. Instead, it always caused Jack's blood to rush to his shorts and his heart to beat out of rhythm.

"What?" he asked stupidly, wondering if there was any particular look or gesture he had that turned Daniel on as much as Daniel did him. He sincerely doubted it.

"Don't play dumb, Jack. The sweater, I want my sweater."

Oh yeah, the sweater. Might as well get this over with. "If you mean that ratty, white sweater that looks a hundred years old, if that's the one you're referring to…I dropped it off at a Salvation Army bin with the rest of the old clothes."

Daniel looked incredulous. "You didn't."

"I did. You told me to take anything that looked old. It looked old."

"Jack, that sweater meant a lot to me."

He's got to be kidding. "It was laying on the floor of the closet."

"I wore it during some really tough times." Daniel unfolded his arms and chewed furiously on his bottom lip.

"It had coffee stains on it," Jack growled, defense being the best offense. Jack took note of the way Daniel's gaze had wandered, avoiding direct eye contact. *Oh for cryin' out loud…he's dead serious about being attached to that damn sweater*

Daniel gave a sad, quirky smile. "No problem, Jack. Don't worry about it, you didn't know. I better get going before I'm late for work."

Great, just great. Why couldn't Daniel be attached to *normal* things? He was always in love with a clay pot, or a coffee mug, or a…sweater.

Jack had planned on mowing the lawn and cleaning out the gutters while Daniel was at work. A little *outdoor* spring cleaning. Forget that.

~~~~

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THERE?"

Jack looked up through the open hatch of the huge Salvation Army bin and was just about to snap off a sarcastic *mind your own damn business* reply when he realized that this time it was a police officer making the inquiry. Oh, shit.

Two police officers to be exact. "You're going to have to step out of there, sir. And keep your hands where we can see them."

Jack pulled himself up to the opening and then hoisted a leg over the side before jumping down to the ground. He bit back an *ouch* as both knees yelled out in protest.

"We're going to need to see some ID, sir."

"Oh for God's sake," Jack mumbled reaching for his wallet. "Do I look like a bum? I'm wearing Dockers for cryin' out loud"

Neither of the police officers looked old enough to be his paperboy. Jack handed over his wallet to one of the young men and froze. The bin was located in a supermarket parking lot. He hadn't realized a crowd had gathered to see the crazy man rummaging through the clothing bin. Women pulled their children closer as they rushed past him with their carts, casting suspicious glances. Others stood around to gawk. Jack wasn't easily embarrassed, but this was downright humiliating. Never one to admit defeat, or sulk in silence, the Colonel decided to take the bull by the horns.

All eyes were on him as he held his head high and handed his Air Force ID over to the kid patrolman.

"*Colonel* O'Neill?" The young cop asked, sounding confused.

"That's right…*Colonel* I work out of the military base up at Cheyenne Mountain. We had a report that an article of clothing that contained some…um…important evidence may have been dumped here." Jack smiled when he heard the collective gasp from the crowd. He was on a roll. "It's imperative that we locate it ASAP."

"What can we do to help?" The officers asked in unison. The boys in blue were ready, willing and able. Jack smiled at his tax dollars at work.

"That won't be necessary, guys, I was pretty much finished with the…investigation when you boys came along." Jack spoke loudly enough to impress the housewives.

"We can bring in a K-9 unit, sir." Officer Paperboy offered.

"Not at this time," Jack replied, wondering if that would work if he had a piece of Daniel's clothing. He decided to store the idea as a last resort. "I did a thorough search of the clothing in question before I was interrupted." Jack was about to make his exit when he had an idea. "It would be helpful if you could find out when the last pick up was and where the contents of this bin ended up."

"No problem, Colonel." After a few minutes on the radio one of the officers handed Jack an address. "Do you need an escort, Colonel?"

"No. I can take it from here. I don't think we want to draw any more attention to this operation than we already have. I'd appreciate it if we could keep this quiet. Hush, hush." He gave them a wink. "Thank you for all of your help, gentlemen."

"Just glad we could be of service, sir."

A tentative, female voice called out from the crowd. "There aren't any dangerous chemicals or viruses on the piece of clothing your searching for is there, Colonel?"

"No, nothing like that. No need for concern, ma'am. The Air Force has this situation under control," Jack spouted with his usual charm. "Gotta go, folks. Um…enjoy the day." He gave his best boyish smirk and a quick wave and hightailed back to his truck, hoping this wouldn't get back to the base. Hammond would have a cow.

Jack spent the next few hours at the Salvation Army warehouse rummaging through large, black plastic garbage bags until he found Danny's prize possession. *When the hell had he turned into such a hopeless sap?*

"That's what you've been looking for?" the toothless woman at the front counter asked in surprise when Jack strolled by trying to look casual.

"That's it."

"Five dollars," she stated without looking up from her National Enquirer.

"FIVE DOLLARS? It's MY sweater."

"Not after it's in the bin. Five dollars."

Jack handed over the money in a huff and rushed home. He wanted to get home before Daniel. He missed by ten minutes.

~~~~

Daniel was sitting at the kitchen table waiting for Jack. He noticed the gutters weren't cleaned, the grass wasn't mowed and the spectacular dinner Jack had promised was nowhere in sight. Daniel wondered if he should be worried when Jack burst through the door.

Damn, Jack thought. He has to be sitting right here at the table. He was hoping to sneak the sweater in unnoticed. "Hey, Daniel."

"Jack."

"How was your day?" Jack asked pleasantly.

"Oh, fine. The translation didn't turn out to be anything we could use, but everything went smoothly."

"Ah," Jack said intelligently. " I didn't expect you home so early."

"I'm not early. I said I'd be back by 4:00."

"Right." Perfect, Jack thought. He's on time one day a year and this has to be the day.

"So, where were YOU, Jack?"

"Oh, me, a…here and there. Nowhere really."

"What'd you do all day?"

"This and that, nothing much."

"Uh huh," Daniel said suspiciously. "Didn't you say you were making me dinner?"

"Dinner? Yes, dinner. I was making you dinner and then I thought you might rather just go out for dinner. Do you wanna go out for dinner, Daniel?"

"Out is fine. Are you okay, Jack?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You're acting a little…weird."

Jack was subtly working his way around Daniel trying to slip the sweater by unnoticed. Another few feet and he'd be in safety of the living room. "Weird? No. Weird how?"

"Jack, what's in the bag?"

"What, this bag?"

Oh, forget it. "Good news, Daniel, I found your sweater." Jack feigned enthusiasm and tossed it to over to him.

The genuine smile made it all worthwhile. "Salvation Army?" Daniel asked reading the bag. "Jack, did you have to go down there and retrieve it?"

"NO. I didn't HAVE to…but I did."

Daniel fought to control a laugh. "Took a while to find, huh?"

"Not that long," Jack said defensively.

"Long enough that you didn't get any yard work done and you didn't start dinner."

Damn him. The archeologist was too smart for his own good.

Daniel took the old sweater out of the bag and hugged it to his body. "Smells a little…musty."

"MUSTY? MUSTY? Why of all the ungrateful comments. Do you have any idea what I had to go through to rescue that for you?"

Daniel let loose. His shoulders shook with uncontrolled laughter. "No, Jack, but I want you to tell me all about it," he said after regaining his composure. "Every last detail."

Jack smiled happily. No problem, Danny. It was so rare to hear a genuine belly laugh from Daniel. Jack would spare no details. He could listen to that laugh all day and all night.

The sweater was rapidly becoming Jack's favorite too.

~~finis~~