First half here.



First off, to show off my "work space": this is where I wrote the bulk of the story. It's the hotel bar of the Croce de Malta in Florence.



And here's my view, from where I sat:



Note the all-important glass of wine on the table.

"Der Polarstern direkt über mir
Dies ist der Pol ich warte hier
Nur dich kann' ich weit und breit noch nirgends kommen seh'n
Ich wart' am falschen Pol" - Blixa Bargeld and Merit Becker

This quote is from Einsturzende Neubauten's "Stella Maris". I heard it on the way to work one day, and nearly pulled off Mem Drive, because it was so very evocative of Atlantis, PegB, and, even more specifically, Daniel and Rodney's relationship. It has references to both Atlantis and the South Pole, among other things. This quote translates roughly to: "The Pole Star is directly above me/This is the North Pole, I’ll wait here/Only I look far and wide, and I cannot see you coming/I’m waiting at the wrong pole" The English translation of the lyrics is here, but honestly, they don't do the song justice.

When I re-read troyswann's initial PegB story, there was something about the flashback scene where Rodney is packing to leave and Daniel is writing on the condensation in the glass that made me think there was another layer beyond friendship there, that Daniel was feeling abandoned and bereft. I couldn't see Rodney abandoning Daniel without good reason, though, and I thought - what if he didn't know he was abandoning Daniel?

The purpose of this story was to show a moment in time - perhaps the only moment in time - in which Daniel and Rodney almost became a romantic-ideal couple, but didn't due to a terrible misunderstanding. In a more general sense, I wanted to demonstrate that their love for each other is deep, and their physical passion is strong, but whenever they decide to date, communication goes all wonky. It's not anyone's fault - they're just not good for each other that way. Daniel isn't explicitly emotionally communicative enough to salve Rodney's massive insecurities (at least, that's how I see it.)

Fort Point Channel, Boston, New Year's Eve, 1997

Originally the story started three minutes earlier, with Daniel making his way across the dancefloor and noticing that the drugs were starting to kick in. A lot of the stuff done in dialogue was Daniel-interior-monologue, but boy, was that boring. So I started it a little further in.

Daniel squeezed in next to Rodney on the bright red velvet sofa, handing him a bottle of water. The ambient downtempo music in this room was a relief after the pulsing techno beat in the area of the loft he'd just come from, which had forced him to bounce and shimmy despite his best efforts to restrain himself.

Rodney took the water without pausing in his conversation with his peers. "I'm not saying that a unified field theory is impossible. But Einstein didn't even bother to look at the research everyone else was doing."

As Rodney continued his diatribe, Daniel took in the crowded environment. The walls for this room had been set up in the loft just for the party, two interlocking semicircles. Throngs of people were filtering through on their way from one zone of the party to another. In one area of the room, two women and a man were making out, in another some of Rodney's MIT compatriots were fiddling with a glowing fiberglass sculpture, but none of it could distract the physicist from his point.

In my initial idea for the story, Daniel and Rodney were both on drugs - Rodney noting that the water is "just what I needed" is a holdover from that. But I decided if they were in the same headspace, you probably wouldn't get the catastrophic misunderstanding at the end. Also, though I could see Daniel talking Rodney into it, that would be a very different story, I think. (Maybe it's the AU of this one, where Daniel doesn't leave Rodney's the next day.)

The black light in the room made the whites of Rodney's eyes glow. His brown hair took on a bright hue from the fluorescent pink fishing net strung behind the couch and his teeth were shining white as he continued. For a moment he looked surreal to Daniel, the eerie glow combined with his intellectual enthusiasm giving him a breathtaking beauty. Daniel wondered, not for the first time, just what was in that mixed drink Demi had made him. "Pure math is all well and good, but sometimes you need to look out your window and corroborate your ideas with reality," Rodney said. He uncapped his water and took a sip, then put one hand on Daniel's knee. "Hey, this was just what I needed. Thanks." Only then did he turn to look at Daniel. "Are we boring you yet?"

I had a lot of trouble coming up with what felt like a believable conversation here. I originally had a lot of hammer-over-the-head expositionary talk about the Harvard party they'd just been to. The important bits of that talk come out later in the dialogue here.

Daniel pointed at the three people making out across the room. "Scenery."

"Ah," Rodney said. "See, you wouldn't get this at your Harvard party."

"You teach at Harvard?" one of Rodney's friends asked.

"Extension," Daniel said shortly.

"Ah," said Rodney's friend.

"It's not bad," Daniel said, a little defensively. "The students all want to be there." The Harvard Extension program was Harvard's night school, little known outside the Boston area. Unlike the day program, anyone could attend as long as they were willing to pay the startlingly low tuition fees and keep up with the substantial workload. The running joke was that the Extension program offered "slightly damaged professors at greatly reduced prices." And, Daniel thought ruefully, after the past few years he certainly fit into that faculty description. In fact, if Rodney hadn't known someone who knew someone, he might not have gotten any classes there at all. He put his hand over Rodney's and squeezed it, saying "Of course, my office is my backpack and whatever table I can stake out at Au Bon Pain."

Harvard Extension does actually exist, and yes, the professors do sometimes meet with students in the Au Bon Pain in the Holyoke Center.

"You don't have them come by your attic?" Rodney said.

"It's a garret," Daniel smiled back.

Originally, Daniel followed up "It's a garret" with "It makes me feel like Louisa May Alcott." But I decided the only version of Daniel queeny enough to get away with that line is the one in Dr. Jackson's Diary, and shifted the comment over to Rodney.

"A garret. Who are you, Louisa May Alcott?" Rodney asked the question with more affection than acid. Daniel felt Rodney's thumb slide slowly back and forth over his, saw the little smile tweaking up one corner of his mouth, and heard one of the other scientists stage-whisper, "Going, going…"

"So, is all this better than Kansas?" Rodney asked.

"Gone!" said another one – Chris, Daniel thought his name was – and clapped Rodney on the shoulder. "We'll leave you guys alone for a few minutes. It's nearly midnight – better get ready."

It's evident from the above that Rodney's associates have some idea of Rodney's feelings for Daniel - possibly more so than Daniel does. I think they're perceived as a couple by those around them, and have been for a while, though they haven't seen themselves quite that way.

As they moved away, Rodney leaned back into the corner of the couch a little, putting one arm around Daniel's body, and Daniel followed, resting his head on Rodney's shoulder, listening to the steady rhythm of Rodney's heart.

I noticed in reviewing the story that I never say anything about Daniel's glasses. They're never mentioned. I thought that was strange - why did his glasses never come up? They're like a part of him. Then I realized - it's from his POV. They're so much a part of him that he never notices they're there.

"This," Daniel said, flinging out one arm to encompass the room, "is wonderful. It's perfect. We're normal here." He felt a strange ebullience suddenly, exploding like a bomb inside him. It was as if the cares he'd been carrying for the past twelve months were spilling off his shoulders, leaving him light and free.

And here's where the drugs REALLY kick in.

I couldn't see a way for Daniel and Rodney to have this conversation without drugs as a catalyst. This Daniel is very emotionally guarded, walled off, and afraid of being hurt (at least, that's my feeling); he's still wounded from his previous relationship and trying to keep a bit of distance to protect himself. When I embarked on this story, the two scenes I had in my head were this scene and the final scene of the story; the rest came later.

The story was vague on how deliberate Daniel's ingestion of drugs was in large part because I was worried about how people would react to it. In fact, I almost didn't post this story for precisely that reason. I think it's possible to use recreational drugs safely, and that it's a matter of personal choice, but I'm aware many may not agree with me. I also don't think that what Daniel's doing here is self destructive. I actually think Daniel's unlikely to use drugs in a self-destructive way; he's got other methods of self-destruction.

In my head he knows that by getting a drink from Demi, he'll be getting something that's good, and something that's safe - he just doesn't know precisely what. I think, for him, that's part of the appeal; it's an adventure, an exploration, something new and unfamiliar - but again, because of who it's from, there's a safety net.

By being vague, it also allowed me to play fast and loose with the effects. It's obviously an empathogen that increases tactical sensitivity, but it's somewhat milder than (and also, as we see later, lacking the erection-eroding effects of) the MDx drugs, possibly one of the 2c family (which would have been legal in '97). This gives us a Daniel who is significantly more open emotionally without being completely gooey.

Originally, in the following conversation, Daniel was written explicitly as if he was on Ecstacy, and thus a big pile of warm fuzzy emotion. Lots of him saying to Rodney, "Why won't you let me tell you how wonderful you are?" with painful sincerity, and trying even harder than he does here to detail to Rodney how great he is. It seemed a little over the top - it'd feel in character if you'd been around people under that influence, but not so much if you hadn't - and was toned down enormously in the final version. I think it's a much more effective scene now. (If anyone's interested, I'll post the original version of this scene for comparison's sake.)

"Yeah, well, normal is the new weird. Last year I don't think you'd planned on spending tonight at a party with MIT geeks and artists." And me, ran the unspoken clause.

"Last year I spent New Year's Morning in a holding cell, so no, not really," Daniel said. He felt words collecting at like a huge heavy pressure in his chest, words he'd been holding back since Rodney had contacted him a few days after the dire event. They were pushing at the back of his throat, fighting to escape. He opened his mouth, trying to release the pressure. "It figures, the one time I get busted for drugs, they wouldn't even be mine," he said.

I had so much trouble getting Daniel's voice right on that line; I rewrote it at least five or six times. I'm still not sure I did.

Rodney's eyebrows drew in over the bridge of his nose, and he focused sharply on Daniel, pushing his chin uncomfortably close to his chest to make eye contact with his friend. "You haven't told me this part."

Daniel sighed, and pushed himself up a little higher on Rodney's body to relieve the strain on Rodney's neck. Since he'd come to Boston, this had been his big secret, but suddenly, with Rodney's arm around him, and that strange, exciting energy jittering inside, it felt necessary to tell the tale. "We were at a New Year's Eve party in Lawrence. Steve, one of Steve's doctoral students, and I. Steve gave me Andrew's coat to hold while they went to get beer. The cops came in the front, Steve and Andrew went out the back. I was left holding the bag. Literally. 'That's not mine' isn't something police ever buy. Especially in Kansas."

"So the guy who got you arrested is the same guy who fired you for getting arrested?"

"Yeah," Daniel said, stretching a little. An enormous knot he hadn't realized had been tying him up had suddenly released in his chest. "And Andrew took over my classes, and my half of Steve's bed." After The Lecture – Daniel's career-ending speech at the confrence in Washington had developed capital letters in his mind – Steve had been the only person who would hire Daniel to teach at all. It was only after Andrew replaced him that Daniel realized Steve had only hired him to keep him conveniently close as a bed warmer.

1996 (and the first week of '97) was a really awful year for Daniel - first The Lecture, then Kansas, then the drug bust and the firing and the revelation that his lover was a rat bastard, which he should have figured out a lot earlier. I'm still not happy with how that last sentence is phrased. I was trying to get across a lot of information there, and I feel like it's inelegant.

Rodney glanced around the room. "You know, I bet in this room alone there's ten hackers who could destroy the guy's life. Or at least his credit rating."

In the previous version, Daniel delivered the following line with utmost sincerity. It was nauseating.

Daniel rolled his eyes. "My knight in shining armor." With the release of his secret, he suddenly felt free, and light, and tingly around the edges, the buzzing energy settling down into a calm, warm feeling of intimacy. He slid one hand down the front of Rodney's silk shirt, enjoying the texture of the fabric and the way he could feel it lightly rasp against the chest hair underneath. "I'm not sure why I never told you about that."

There's a lot of odd sensation-noting from Daniel in this section; he's very aware of the silk and the chest hair underneath, and later of the slight scratchiness of Rodney's chapped lips, among other things. I did that as another method of showing the drug's effects on him; he's noticing things he wouldn't normally pay attention to.

And - hey! What's Rodney doing, wearing a silk shirt and cotton slacks? He's dressing up! I wrote it that way, and then thought it might be out of character. And then I thought a little more, and did mental filling-in of what had been happening over the past year...and I decided that, over the last three months, both Daniel and Rodney have been stealthily improving their own wardrobes in order to try to catch the other's eye. (Of course, neither of them notice the other is doing it.)

"Because you knew I'd use it as another example of your terrible taste in men," Rodney said.

Daniel felt the buildup of words in his chest again, as if they were struggling desperately to be spoken. He'd been thinking them for the past couple of months, but hadn't felt right saying them to Rodney; he'd felt too unsure, mostly of himself. Now, however, everything seemed perfect – it felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be. "But then there's you." Daniel said. "I've turned over a new leaf."

"Me?" Rodney asked skeptically. "I'm not part of your taste in men. You're just bored and lonely. You lack options."

That line of Rodney's is another one I wrote repeatedly, but am not entirely happy with; I feel like I could have gotten across more than I did, and in less space.

"I don't lack options. If Boston's intellectual society is trying to emulate ancient Greece, then Harvard's history department is Sparta." Daniel reviewed the analogy. "Only with less muscle, and more naked oiled wrestling." He stopped for a moment, and blinked. "Wow, that drink Demi gave me is like truth serum."

That line there - about the drink being like truth serum - is one of the first sentences that came to mind when I thought of this story. The problem was, I never had anything tethered to it in my head - just that it was said in that room, during that scene. I moved it around a lot to try to find where it belonged; initially I had it ending a paragraph where Daniel had gone on about how wonderful Rodney was, then I had it after the confessional about Steve. I think it works best here; in fact, I think this is the only place it works.

"The mad chemist gave you a drink?" Rodney said. "Do you know what was in it?"

"I told her I'd have whatever she was having," Daniel said.

He felt Rodney's hand run through his hair, and could swear he felt every follicle tingle at Rodney's touch. His lover smiled wryly. "Well, it was either her homebrew or some drug the DEA hasn't made illegal yet because they haven't found out it exists."

"Hmm. Is this going to be a problem?" Daniel felt comfortable, relaxed, and a little giddy, but he remembered years-ago battles with Rodney over his more exotic entheogenic experimentation.

And - might I note - I'd love to read the story about Daniel's collegiate experimentation phase.

Rodney snorted. "Are you kidding? This is the most entertainment I've had all week, and that includes the near-explosion in my lab." He looked at Daniel, an amused, slightly superior look on his face, and waved one hand imperiously. "Continue."

The above two paragraphs were a really late insertion, and one I'm happy about - I feel like it's the right reaction for Rodney to have, and it makes the whole section flow better.

Like he'd put the conversational thread on pause, Daniel found he was able to pick up exactly where he'd left off. "I'd just gotten out of jail, just lost my job, and you called out of nowhere." Daniel smiled, remembering, and now his chest was full of warmth. He tried to figure out what it was; suddenly he realized, to his surprise, that it was happiness, and wondered why he'd let it become such an unfamiliar feeling, submerged under worry and insecurity. "As soon as you talked to me you knew that something was wrong."

"In your vocabulary, the words 'I'm fine' cover every situation from 'my life is just peachy,' to 'help, I'm bleeding to death via my femoral artery,'" Rodney said. "Over the years, I've learned Danielese is a tonal language."

"Like Chinese?" Daniel said.

"Exactly like Chinese, because anything you say is a swear if you give it the right inflection."

"Huh," Daniel said. "I want to get back to that…"

"Ah," Rodney said, his expressive fingers tangling in Daniel's hair. "You must be high. You only do that thing – the thing where you neatly file conversational topics on a shelf for later – when you're high. It's just like being back at Oxford."

And that bit above, in a lot of ways, provides an insight into my personal image of their relationship, and possibly, through that, into me as well.

I feel like they've known each other for years, and have a unique sort of comfortable friendship that drifts into and out of physically intimate phases when one or both of them wants or needs the contact and comfort. For them, sex can be like giving each other a hug, only a lot more so. I don't think that's unhealthy; in fact, I think it's healthy, and it warms my heart that, when all else fails, they always have each other.

Unfortunately, Rodney and Daniel also each have a set of expectations programmed into their brains which, at least in the time when this story takes place, cause problems when they become physically intimate. When they drift into a sensual phase, they try to have a Relationship. It doesn't work because they're not suited for each other as romantic partners (for reasons I'll point out elsewhere).

I think they may someday reach the realization that they can have the intimacy without pushing past the comfort zone of their friendship. It's how I envision them on Atlantis, actually; in my head their sensual relationship is a point of comfort for each of them, but it hasn't led to a romantic liaison at that time, and they're not jealous of each other's other interests. The physical aspect of their relationship will probably die down when each of them becomes deeply romantically attached elsewhere, without much in the way of hurt feelings between them. But, if things fall apart for each of them, they always have each other to turn to. Whether or not they're physically involved, they'll always retain a degree and type of emotional intimacy that is different from what they get from their romantic relationships, in part because of their extended history with each other. It's intimacy without...the best word to use is "intensity", but I feel that's not quite right. While their intimacy with other people is like a raging fire, their intimacy with each other is more like the tides of the ocean; it ebbs and flows, and it's quiet but always there. I know this view isn't shared by everyone, but that's why PegB has many different paths spreading out from it.

Enough with the romantic philosophizing - on with the story!

"Don't change the topic. I'm trying to tell you how you changed my life. You dragged me out here to Boston, got me a teaching job…"

"You got yourself the teaching job. I just introduced you. As you've noted, you fit right in with the Sparta of academia," Rodney said.

Daniel started playing with the buttons on Rodney's shirt, wanting to wiggle past Rodney's defenses and infect him with some of the warmth he was feeling. "You take me out to nice dinners…"

"I got tired of watching you eat Kraft Dinner and ramen all week."

I have thought about writing something that handles these events from Rodney's POV, to show exactly what he's thinking, but I think it comes out here fairly well. Poor Rodney. His responses to every nice thing Daniel has to say are a bit defensive; he doesn't want to admit that there may be a less self-serving motive behind the kind things he's done. He's trying to dodge because he knows he's starting to get in deep emotionally, and he's afraid Daniel will break his heart if Rodney allows himself to believe those feelings could be reciprocated. (I think the reason Rodney displays so much cynicism is that he's a romantic, deep at heart.)

Daniel kissed Rodney on the cheek, a long, lingering kiss. "You take me home with you – Rodney, have I ever told you how wonderful you are?"

Rodney stared at him for a moment. "You're really stoned, aren't you?"

"I didn't smoke," Daniel said, then equivocated, "well, much."

"Your pupils are huge – I mean, they're always huge, but right now they're even bigger than usual," Rodney said. "Your eyes are practically black."

The above is a reference to something orca_girl pointed out to me: Michael Shanks' pupils are always enormous, like he's been using belladonna. Really - look for yourself sometime. (Interestingly, I've read that on an instinctive level people tend to be more likely to respond to someone with large pupils, because it's read subliminally as a sign of sexual attraction. Perhaps this explains Shanks' fanatic following. But I digress.)

Daniel rested his hand in the middle of Rodney's chest and looked into his gray eyes. "I'm trying to tell you all the ways you rescued me, and you keep changing the topic."

"Oh, it's Oxford all over again," Rodney said, rolling his eyes. "It's for your own good. You'll regret it in the morning."

"No. Just hear me out,'" Daniel said. They were prone on the couch, now, and he rolled over onto Rodney, gently rubbing their noses together. "I feel better when I tell you these things. I think maybe they need to be said. So, I'm going to tell you how great you are, and you're going to listen."

Dude, Daniel is SO on drugs here. :-)

"If you have to pin me down to make me do it? Look, I've known you for almost fourteen years, and we've done this before. Remember, just after exams in '86? Tomorrow you'll be embarrassed and hide in your attic –"

I want to read the story about what happened after the exams in '86. Somehow, I bet it's connected to Daniel's entheogenic experiments mentioned above. I also bet Rodney got his heart broken.

"Garret," Daniel corrected.

"Whatever, Louisa – for two or three days. I already know how great I am. I've got the CV to prove it. There's nothing you can say to add to it." Either the glow from the black-lit hot pink mesh netting was casting its color on Rodney's cheeks, or he was blushing to match it.

"You hide behind your intellectual superiority in order to keep from getting hurt. That's not the same." Daniel took a deep breath, trying to get the tumble of statements bottled up in his chest in some semblance of order. "You flew to Kansas after we hadn't spoken in, what, a year? You packed everything I owned –"

"Which was about two suitcases," Rodney interrupted.

Daniel continued, feeling more energized, more light and relieved, with every word he said. "You brought me here, you held me when I was sad, you let me sleep in your bed when I got lonely and didn't try to have sex with me even though I could tell you were rock-hard…"

Yup, that's truth serum, all right.

"Oh, God," Rodney said, putting one hand over his own face. "Stop, just…"

Poor Rodney. He thought Daniel didn't notice.

"No, no, no!" Daniel said, pulling his hand away so they could make eye contact. He knew Rodney was right – he wasn't sober. But he didn't want to be, not right now. He spent most of his life keeping his feelings locked down tight, and with the cage finally opened, he felt like things were falling into place. "Don't be embarrassed. If you had asked, I would have done anything you wanted. But you didn't, because you knew I wasn't ready." He slid two fingers between the buttons of Rodney's silk shirt, reaching through to touch the hair and skin underneath. "And you didn't turn me away when I was ready."

That last line of dialogue from Daniel still makes me cringe, for reasons I can't pin down. I wish I could, because I'm not sure it's a bad line. I think it's a "wow, if he weren't on drugs he'd be SO embarassed to be saying that" cringe.

The crowd outside the room started chanting. "Seven! Six! Five!"

"Oh, thank God," Rodney said. "If I kiss you, will you stop embarrassing me?"

I love Rodney there.

"Three! Two!"

"Why are you embarrassed?" Daniel said, smiling, running his finger down Rodney's jawline. He took a deep breath, and released the final fluttering captive sentence trapped in his chest, the one that had been anxiously trying to get free for weeks. "I'm in lo–"

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!" the crowd called out, and before Daniel could finish his sentence, Rodney pulled his mouth down for a kiss.

Daniel felt like he was falling into Rodney. His mouth was warm and welcoming, and they fit together with the ease of long acquaintance and frequent practice. Rodney's lips were a little chapped from the winter weather, and their slight scratchiness on Daniel's sent a shiver down his spine. His lover's arms fit comfortably around him, and his smell was the smell that had come to signify home for Daniel in recent months, the reason he spent more nights in Rodney's bed than in his own little garret in Cambridgeport, the reason he slept at the house on Brattle Street even when Rodney was out of town. All the words that had been fighting to escape from Daniel were content to wait, now; this touch was far more important than words could ever be

Rodney's mouth was wet and hungry, and it was devouring Daniel; he could feel all his senses being pulled into the kiss, his higher brain functions being switched off one by one by the dexterity of Rodney's tongue. Rodney's low moans filled his ears, blocking any other sound, the sound waves trembling through Daniel's lips. Time seemed to stretch out like a thread being pulled taut, and the kiss was like a finger strumming it. The string's vibrations were connecting every time Daniel and Rodney had ever kissed and every time they would ever kiss again into one long echoing now. Daniel swore he could feel his eighteen-year-old self enthusiastically kissing the anxious Canadian boy at Oxford for the first time, could reach out and touch a much older Daniel who still loved Rodney, was still held by him on cold winter nights when the nightmares came, somewhere far away. All the Daniels and Rodneys that ever were and ever would be were meeting, crossing paths in this infinite kiss. Daniel finally had to tear his lips away, afraid he would tumble into the future and miss everything that would happen in between.

Yes, Daniel's on drugs - and yet, in some ways, I feel that doesn't invalidate that sensation of the connection to their past and their future. That bit is one of my favorite parts of the story, which probably means, under the "murder your darlings" philosophy, that I should have axed it.

He moved his head slightly, stroking his lips over Rodney's neck, feeling the smoothness, the softness of his skin there, so different from the rough scratchiness of his newly shaved facial hair that tangled with Daniel's five o'clock shadow. Daniel moved his lips up and down Rodney's neck slowly, enjoying the contrasting sensations and the feel of Rodney involuntarily pressing upward against him. As Daniel shifted his hips to try to release some of the pressure on his cock, he could feel Rodney getting hard underneath him. He slid one hand between them, down the waistband of Rodney's pants and into the dark hot cave inside, feeling, grasping…

"Hey, porn star boy," Rodney said, pulling Daniel's hand back up. "There's other people in here."

I wanted to have a very sharp transition from the part above, in which Daniel is so focused on Rodney that nothing else exists, into the bit below, where he realizes that, yes, there's a room full of people around them - and decides hey, if they don't mind then he doesn't either. I wish I'd found a way to make it even more abrupt.

Suddenly, like a light bulb turning on, Daniel became aware of the music still pulsing in the background and the many other people in the room. He looked up to see, through the screen of a few people talking in the middle of the room, one of the girls from the makeout session he'd been admiring earlier, watching them. She was small, with black hair in pigtails and a black retro dress, and Daniel figured she was either an undergrad crashing the party or a candidate for a Nobel prize – it was hard to tell with the guests here. She smiled at him, and he smiled back, lifting one hand off Rodney's shoulder to wave at her. Daniel didn't have an exhibitionistic streak, but something about her obvious enjoyment of their pleasure amplified his happiness, and he kissed Rodney on the cheek. Yes, he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

Rodney began to sit up, pushing Daniel up as well. "I've got an idea. Come on," he said, taking Daniel by the hand and tugging him toward the door.

Daniel looked over his shoulder. The little girl with the black hair was staring after them with big eyes. Don't go! she mouthed at him, with a pleading smile.

Rodney tugged on Daniel's hand, and he stumbled after his lover, mouthing back to the girl with a shrug, Sorry.

I really liked the idea of someone watching Daniel and Rodney and enjoying the show, and of Daniel feeling an instant rapport with her - partially because, hey, he was doing the same thing watching her just a short time before. I have a picture in my head of her looking all wistful and Daniel being genuinely apologetic as Rodney yanks him out of the room. Does the fact that I think it's sweet make me a pervert?

-----

Rodney led Daniel down the curving hallway created by the two concentric circular walls. It was completely dark; Daniel's shoulder rubbed the outer curve as he trustingly held on to Rodney's hand, following wherever he led.

Coming out of the dark into the next room was as disconcerting to Daniel as bursting from the womb. The bright area was packed tight with people talking, and Rodney led him through the crowd, weaving one way and wending another until they came to a sliding door. Rodney led him through it, closing it behind them. The sudden diminishment of noise made Daniel stagger for a moment, as if the sound waves had been holding him up. Instead of taking a left on the other side toward the bathroom, as Daniel expected, Rodney took a right.

"We're not supposed to be back here, are we?" Daniel asked, a little worried.

With an airy wave of his hand, Rodney continued to lead him back. "Bresson owes me one," he said. "He decided to play explosive games with alternating current in my lab this week."

Daniel shook his head, amazed. "Exactly when did we switch roles?" he asked. "When did you become the brave one?"

"I'm not," Rodney said, and flashed a smile over his shoulder at Daniel, one of the rare ones that had no cynicism in it. "I'm trying to impress you." He led Daniel into a bedroom, closing the door behind them.

I have this vision of how Rodney says this line, and it just makes me love him so much. It's one of the rare times he's not being sarcastic as a defense mechanism.

The room was a complete square, its high ceilings as far away from the floor as the walls were from each other. The computer monitor in the corner had wild colors sprawling over it in coruscating patterns, in time to the music trickling out of the speakers. The song was exactly the sort that should have been loud, Daniel thought, but the volume on the speakers was very low, the pounding industrial beat merely a gentle tapping. A large bed with messy covers sat in the corner, and a wide, high table at the center of the room completed the furnishings.

The song is "Was Ist Ist" by Einsturzende Neubauten. Initially I was going to have Daniel hear the chorus - which translates to "What is, is; all that is not is possible" - which would trigger some revelation in his brain. Then I decided this was coming way too close to being a song fic as is with the quotes at beginning and end (from a track deeper in the same album). Plus, considering Daniel's hash of a German accent in the episode 1969, I suspect his command of the language is nowhere near as good as mine (which, for the record, isn't good).

Rodney rested one hand on the table and looked back at Daniel, sudden insecurity showing in his face. Daniel took a step forward, closing the gap between them, and kissed him.

Once again, the fireworks went off in Daniel's head. He ran one hand down Rodney's chest, feeling the silk of his shirt, the firmness underlying his chest, the slight softness around his middle. And that was okay, Daniel thought, mentally discarding all of his previous long, lean lovers. As he took Rodney's tongue in his mouth, he slid his hand around his lover's waist and decided the softness was good. It was right. Rodney was solid; he wouldn't slip away.

It's funny; I think that right here Daniel does an about-face in the signifiers that he attaches to Rodney's little belly. Before this it's a little silly, something that detracts from his attractiveness - as Daniel's got a thing for the Jack/John physical type - but in this moment he decides it's not just okay, but a sign of stability. I don't think that new signifier ever leaves his head, despite what he sees as Rodney's betrayal toward the end of the story, and I think that signifier may be why he goes back to the long, lean ones, because he expects them to leave, and can't get as hurt if he expects it.

"I want this," Daniel whispered against Rodney's mouth.

"Trust me, I've figured that out," Rodney replied, a little breathless.

"No," Daniel said, gently kissing his way to Rodney's ear. "This. I'm in love with you. I want you. I want to keep you. I want…"

"Don't. Just – don't," Rodney said, a little choked, and tried to pull Daniel's mouth back to his.

Rodney's been trying every method he has to deflect Daniel through the story - even the "I've figured that out" line is a method of defelction, because he knows what Daniel's getting at. Now he's left with nothing but honesty.

Even as he slid his hands under Rodney's shirt, up his back, over his shoulders and down his chest, he drew his mouth away. "Rodney, I mean it."

Rodney closed his eyes, and Daniel saw fleeting pain cross his face. "This isn't what you really want. I know you. You're getting bored with me already. That's why you're –" He inarticulately waved a hand around. "You said it before – here, we're normal. You don't like normal."

Poor scared Rodney.

Daniel cupped Rodney's face in his. Energy filled his body, his hands. He wanted Rodney to feel it; he wanted Rodney to feel what he was feeling. "It's not normal." Suddenly, he was full of laughter. "It's you. How could you be normal? You're magic." Just as suddenly, like a door closing, he was serious again, a trembling filling him. "And it scares me. But this is good. This is right." Rodney opened his eyes slowly, and Daniel stared into them, trying desperately to channel all his emotion into them. "This is exactly where I'm supposed to be. With you."

Rodney stroked Daniel's hair, pulling it back from his face, tucking it behind his ears. "Tell me this again. Tell me this when you're sober, and I'll believe you."

"Not now?" Daniel said, sliding his hands down Rodney's neck, down his chest, down to his waist, sliding the tips of his fingers under Rodney's waistband.

Rodney lowered his forehead to Daniel's shoulder, shaking his head, all of his prickly defenses suddenly down. "Oh, God, I - no. Just – tell me again. Tell me again tomorrow." He ran his hands over Daniel's hips, down his thighs. "Tell me again, and you can have anything."

That, right there, is the key to everything that goes wrong later. Rodney's so torn - part of him believes Daniel, even though he says he doesn't, and part of him is sure that it's just the drugs and that tomorrow Daniel will regret everything he said. And Daniel, being on drugs, doesn't realize that when Rodney says tomorrow he means "within the next 24 hours you must tell me explicitly what you told me tonight, or it will mean you don't actually feel these things." (Actually, I think even without the drugs he wouldn't realize that's what Rodney meant.) Poor Rodney. Poor Daniel.

He lifted his head and kissed Daniel then, hard and breathless. His lips were like a match in an illegal fireworks factory; Daniel suddenly found himself ignited, ablaze, and frantic with desire. He kissed Rodney back desperately, trying to clench his hand in Rodney's short hair, pushing Rodney's shirt up, wanting to feel their skin touch, feeling that nothing could be close enough, hard enough, this couldn't happen fast enough.

Rodney matched him, kiss for kiss, suddenly savage, pulling Daniel's head back by the hair in order to expose his throat, ravishing it as if desperately devouring sustenance. Both of them pressed against each other frantically, grinding hard, Daniel desperately trying to squeeze his hand between their bodies so he could get it inside Rodney's pants, feel what he had so temptingly brushed against a few minutes before.

Oh, yes. He was hard and throbbing – so quickly, it was all moving so quickly, and Daniel wanted it to last forever and at the same time felt the need to go faster, faster – and Rodney was suddenly undoing his belt, his pants, slipping the cotton trousers and the boxers down around his ankles and tearing at Daniel's snug black jeans.

"I want you to fuck me," Daniel gasped out.

I got stuck at this point for a little while. First I had Rodney having a little tube of lube in his pocket, but I didn't think Rodney would assume he was getting laid at the party - in fact, I figured he'd assume rather the opposite. Then I had Rodney digging through Bresson's drawers to find lube. But then I realized I was trying to make sure they had anal sex because it's the slash fic standard, not because it was appropriate to the situation. It's so very possible to have a satisfactory, emotionally intimate orgasm in so many other ways, and I thought I'd explore that possibility instead.

"No lube," Rodney said breathlessly, wrapping his hand around Daniel's cock, sliding it up and down with the rhythm Daniel always wanted, the one Rodney knew better than anyone else. He pressed closer, and he felt perfect in Daniel's hand, full and ripe and right. Daniel held Rodney close, because the pleasure spiking through him was almost too much, it occluded everything else, and he was worried if he didn't hold on he would forget who he was.

But he already had forgotten who he was; he had forgotten that there was any Daniel that was not somehow a part of Rodney. "This is it," he whispered. "We fit."

"Right now, I believe you," Rodney breathed, and suddenly Daniel was shooting over Rodney's hand. It was a much more pleasurable version of the time he'd accidentally touched a live electrical wire on one of Nick's old appliances; his brain was seared to a stop by the jittering shock, and his body was overcome with sensation. He was excruciatingly aware of every bit of Rodney, and the moment seemed to go on forever.

Words as a trigger for Daniel - who'd'a thunk? ;-)

Simultaneous orgasm also seems to be a gold standard for fic sex - if it's perfect, the orgasms will be simultaneous. In real life, I don't find that to be so; ergo, another tradition broken here.

Rodney buried his face in Daniel's shoulder then, and bucked his hips against Daniel, pushing harder, harder against his grasping fingers. Daniel kissed his shoulder, kissed his cheek, kissed his hair, slid one hand over the back of his head, the base of his thumb brushing Rodney's earlobe, and said, "Come for me. Please. I want you to come for me."

"I love you," Rodney said, for the first time, and it sounded like Daniel had reached inside his lover and torn the words out by brute force. Rodney's head snapped up, his face full of sudden shocking vulnerability, entirely undone, his cock jerking in Daniel's palm, and Daniel could only tell that Rodney was coming against his stomach by the weight of the fluid against the surface of his skin; it was identical to Daniel's body temperature, and felt like it was a part of him.

Rodney is so vulnerable and so open here, and so terrified he's going to get hurt. It breaks my heart. (I know, I know - "if it breaks your heart, why write it?"

They stood still for a moment, hearts pounding in perfect synchronicity, just staring at each other.

"Wow," Daniel said, lacking any words to communicate how he felt at that moment, how overwhelmed, how loved.

"Yeah," Rodney whispered, still breathing heavy. He lowered his head again to Daniel's shoulder, the sweat seeping through the shoulder of Daniel's shirt, and Daniel gently pressed his lips to Rodney's throat, and then turned his head so his ear was pressed there, the better to listen to the thrum of Rodney's blood through his body.

They stood like that for several minutes, arms wrapped around each other. Daniel was content to listen to Rodney's heart beat, steady and true.

I liked the image of Daniel listening to Rodney's heart to ground himself, and used it in a few places in the story. I also liked the idea of them just holding each other, a deep intimacy beyond words.

Finally, Rodney lifted his head, putting one hand out and pulling tissues out of the box that sat on the table. As Daniel kissed him, Rodney cleaned them both up, unseeing. When he was done, he pulled Daniel closer, his lips against Daniel's ear. "Tell me again," he whispered. "Tell me again tomorrow."

"I will," Daniel said. Everything felt right, it felt perfect – he was becoming himself again, and yet it was a self that still kept that link to Rodney. He could be himself without being alone.

This is the bright, shining moment where all the possibilities are open; Daniel can see how perfect they could be together. Pity it all goes to hell.

Rodney reached down to pull his pants up. "Come on. We'd better get back to the party."

"So soon?" Daniel said, tucking his shirt into his own pants. "I thought you said Bresson owed you one."

"Yeah, one. Not lots. He didn’t actually blow up the lab." Rodney said, taking his hand and leading him out of the room, further down the hall. "Pity, really – it might have gotten him published."

The door at the end of the hall led to the main space in the loft. When Daniel had been in there earlier, getting water, the lights had been flashing and the music had been loud, slightly harsh techno. Now there was a different DJ, playing something Middle Eastern, beautiful female vocals with an underlying syncopated dance beat. The whole party seemed to be filling the huge space, dancing. Daniel felt the rhythm of his chldhood in the desert, the crazy, delightful, ecstatic energy of the crowd filling him, and moved out onto the dance floor, pulling Rodney with him.

The song I hear in my head is by Ekova, off "Soft Breeze and Tsunami Breaks" (an album I highly recommend), and it's called Temoine. It seemed like the sort of thing that would especially grab Daniel. It was released in 1998; I figure the DJ got an advance copy.

When I initially thought of this story, I thought they would go home to have sex. When I began writing it, I changed my mind. Their interaction with the party changes as their relationship changes. When they're not quite together, they are EITHER interacting with each other OR with the rest of the party, but not both at the same time. After their private time, when they develop that deeper link, they begin interacting with the party as a unit, and that allows the energy of the party to, in turn, carry them away and increase their existing happiness.

"I don't dance!" Rodney said loudly over the music.

Daniel put one arm around Rodney's waist, pulling their hips together, moving Rodney's hips in time with his own. "Now you do!" he shouted back, and laughed. It was perfect. There was nothing about this night that was not right.

This is the first time they've ever danced together.

As Rodney caught the beat, he moved back from Daniel a little, and Daniel watched his lover, pulsing lights from the LED sculpture in the center of the dance floor turning his skin red, green, blue in a steady changing pattern. He was a little awkward, but he was learning. He wasn't perfect, but he was right. He was exactly what Daniel needed.

This is a crucial realization for Daniel to make.

Suddenly Daniel felt a tug on his shirt. It was the little black-haired girl who had been watching them earlier, her face shimmering with sweat. "I just wanted to tell you, the two of you are so beautiful together," she said.

Daniel felt like his heart was shining even brighter than the LED sculpture in the middle of the room. "You're right," he said. He hugged her quickly, thankful for the outside confirmation of what he already knew. "We are." The beat of the music slowed suddenly, and he pulled Rodney close again, kissing him.

Originally Daniel thanked her for the compliment. I like this better.

second half here.