> Well, here's the first one. :) Figure it's due by the last Sunday
> in November. No pressure, not mandatory. Hope it sparks something for someone.
> 
> Spark word: Superstitious
> 
> Challenge: Write a story (100 - 1,000 words) that begins with the
> words: "Why didn't you call me"
> 
> Enjoy!

I have no clue if not calling from the airport is a real 
superstition in anyone's family, but this is Jack O'Neill we're 
talking about here, so I figure pretty much anything's possible.

Semi-required bit of canon:  In the episode _One False Step_,
Daniel asks Jack his opinion of mythology. Jack replies, "Rumors,
lies, fairy tales."


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



"Why didn't you call me?"

Still drifting in the afterglow of his first non-self-induced 
orgasm in over a week, it took a moment for the words to penetrate
Jack's pleasantly fuddled mind.  He lifted his head from the firm,
satiny pillow provided by Daniel's chest and scowled down into 
inquisitive blue eyes.  "What?"

"From the airport," Daniel replied, trailing his fingertips lightly
up and down Jack's spine in tacit apology.  "To let me know you 
were back."

"Bad luck," Jack murmured absently, arching into the gentle touch, 
the question already half-forgotten.  Daniel's deep chuckle washed 
over him, tantalizing his still-hypersensitive nether regions while
simultaneously confusing and annoying him.  Typical.  "Now what?" 
he growled, bucking his hips sharply into the cradle of the younger
man's thighs in retaliation.

Daniel gasped, eyes rolling back in his head as the familiar buzz of 
arousal began creeping up his spine.  He wrapped his arms snugly around 
Jack's lower back before replying.  "Sorry. It's just that after our 
conversation about mythology on PJ2-445, I wouldn't have figured you 
for being a superstitious man."

"Daniel...."  Jack paused to gather his thoughts, planting a quick,
almost chaste kiss on the full lips poised in a moue beneath him.
"We're fighting a galaxy-wide war with a seriously dysfunctional 
family of self-proclaimed gods, a group of Roswell refugees plays
'Beam me up, Scotty' with yours truly on an all too regular basis, 
and you recently returned from a yearlong visit with beings who could 
teach Buddha a thing or twenty about enlightenment.  Is it really so 
hard to believe that I'd be reconsidering what kind of truths might be 
lurking behind all those other rumors and fairy tales?"

"Oh."

Reading the lingering questions in the tilt of Daniel's eyebrows, 
Jack quickly dipped his head, lapping at the sweat pooled in the 
hollow of his irrepressible archeologist’s throat in a transparent
bid to distract him.

"Ja-ack..." Daniel groaned, the mild protest in his tone belied by 
his emphatic grip on Jack's short, silvery hair.

"Besides," he continued softly, lips pressed close to Daniel's ear,
"this is too important to take any chances with.  Between us we've 
already used up more lives that a whole litter of cats; why tempt 
fate anymore than we have to?"

Daniel tugged gently until Jack backed off far enough for their eyes 
to meet.  Flushing under the searching, vulnerable gaze, he was careful 
to not look away, even for an instant.  Daniel's expression slowly 
relaxed, his lips curving into a small, shy smile before broadening 
into a wide grin, complete with the deep dimples that never failed to 
spark Jack's libido.

Giving Daniel a leer and a wink, he asked, "So... you ready for round 
two?" 

Daniel raised his eyebrows in mock innocence.  "Why, Jack, what ever 
happened to 'Sorry, Dannyboy, recovery time is the first thing to go 
after the knees and the hair color'?"

Jack rolled his hips, making his distinctly tangible response to Daniel's 
presence abundantly clear.  "Apparently age is no match for a randy, 
stuck-in-Washington-for-too-damn-long colonel with the sexiest 
trouble-magnet on either side of a wormhole tucked into his bed."

Tightening his grip, Daniel urged Jack's grinning lips closer to his own.  
"Well then -- lay on, MacDuff," he murmured.

"Damn it, Daniel.  I keep telling you, he was a Scot!" 

Stifling Daniel's teasing laughter with a breath-stealing, toe-curling 
kiss, Jack soon made sure that ethnic backgrounds were the least of 
either of their concerns.

(fin)