Archive of Our Own ^beta

After the life I’ve lived, I fully expected to retire and find my life boring. I should have known better with these two. Our first mistake was buying the seven-bedroom estate house on ten acres. Our second mistake was not sitting down and doing shots of good whiskey until we hammered out the details of our arrangement or died of alcohol poisoning. And the final mistake, well, that’s solely mine.

At first, I found their antics mildly amusing. Today, not so much. It is 0530 and they are in my kitchen, across the seven-bedroom estate house, and downstairs from my bedroom, and I can hear them yelling at each other. I’m going to murder them and I have ten acres to find a place to bury the bodies. Gritting my teeth and throwing on a robe, I pad downstairs. For now, I’m being very careful to not act as angry as I am because I am livid. Livid before coffee is bad for everyone involved.

The shouts are loud enough to rattle the windows in the kitchen. Neither one of them look at me, nor do they quieten as I walk in. Two mugs of coffee are thrust my way. I want neither, though I know they are fixed my favorite ways: black and cinnamon with whipped cream, the real stuff. I step around them and make my own cup, choosing my third favorite way, heavy cream, and lavender simple syrup.

I lean against the counter sipping my relaxing coffee as their anger turns to bewilderment. They go quiet and look at me. I am doing my best to keep my tone even as I speak, “We have ten acres and no neighbors for miles. You can go into the backyard to finish killing each other. I’d like to have my coffee in peace.”

They turn back to each other and growl before slamming their respecting mugs on the table and splashing coffee everywhere before heading outside. As I walk back up to my room, I can see that I get to referee. They are both going to be very, very upset. Livid before coffee makes everyone have a bad day.

I still hear them shouting as I slip on my jeans and boots. I pull my pistol from the top of my closet and load it. As long as they are shouting, they aren’t fistfighting. I slip my pistol into the waistband of my jeans and grab another cup of coffee before going outside to watch. Sitting on the steps, Nero, our brindle rescue runs to me. I pat him on the head and he settles in behind me on the porch.

The language has started, not just the expletives, but the ones in 29 other languages. I pull out my pistol. A soft woosh before BAP! “Ow! Carter! What the fuck!?”

A giggle. Woosh. BAP! “Ow! Sam! What was that for?”

Now I have their attention. They look at each other, about to start again. Two quick shots. Instead of their lovely thighs, the ribs. Two exclamations of, “Fuck!”

I’ve never shot them before. This is a much better de-escalation technique than talking. Nero and I are eyeing them even as they are eyeing me. “Are you ready to discuss this or do I need to shoot you again?” I ask, voice even, maybe sounding calm.

Forgetting their argument, they walk toward me, silent. Jack is the first to break the silence as he dramatically shows me the paint splatter on his pants and side. “My pants are ruined.”

I make a non-committal noise knowing they should have been trashed a decade ago and that he will still wear them with paintball stains. “That rib shot was brutal,” Daniel replies still holding his side.

Ignoring his comment, I say, “I made you a new pot of coffee. When you get your cups, you should come back out so we can discuss this like adults. I think I’m done with your needs to compete.

Wordlessly, they went inside and got coffee. They came back out and took seats in their customary Adirondack chairs. I’ve turned toward them, still sitting on the step. Nero pads over to Daniel. That dog has always known which of us needs comfort most and came to us. When he’s done with Daniel, he goes to Jack, wagging his tail. Both men are sullen. They don’t like it when I’m angry.

I’m leaned lazily against the banister, doing my best to take a relaxed position with my paintball pistol in hand. “Are you ready to listen?”

They nod in unison, unsure what might get them shot again at nearly point-blank range. Nero settled next to me with a whine as he puts his head in my lap. He doesn’t like it when I’m angry, either. “What has gotten into you two? You act like two boys fighting over the head cheerleader. You know, we used to be a team. Jack?” I allow him to explain first. I know he won’t be able to until after Daniel makes his case. I know Jack reacts. However, I’m also doing this to make a point to Daniel.

Jack shrugs, still sullen. “I don’t know. You know I’m not good with… feelings.”

Daniel snorts. I tighten my grip on my pistol and cock my head. He goes back to his former sullen countenance. “Same question, Daniel. What’s gotten into you?”

He rubs the bridge of his nose. “I. Sam, I don’t know. I just know when Jack goads me, I can’t help myself.”

“What’s he goad you about?” I ask curiously. I have a suspicion, but I need him to say it. He sighs. I can see that he is ashamed of how he’s been acting. There is a hint that Jack is, too. “Well?”

“You, mostly,” Daniel admits to his coffee mug. He won’t make eye contact.

“Jack?” I ask.

He rolls his eyes and nods but doesn’t respond further. “Is there a particular reason?” I ask.

“Because it’s Daniel,” he whines.

I nod. Jack has forgotten that he and Daniel used to be close. Well, as close as Jack gets to people. I tap the pistol on my thigh and scratch Nero behind his floppy ear. He leans in and grunts happily. “Why did you agree to this arrangement if you’re just going to torture yourselves and each other? Wasn’t it enough to be tortured by the goa’uld? How about the Iraqi’s? Furthermore, why do this to me? Daniel?”

“I agreed to this because I couldn’t imagine my life without either of you. It has been us for so long and none of us have any family we are close to.” He looked relieved to get that off of his chest.

Jack takes a deep breath. “I agreed because I figured you would choose one of us eventually."

Daniel and I are both surprised at his admission. Jack rarely commits to something with ulterior motives. “Daniel? Did you have some kind of similar motive?” I ask.

“Not really,” he replies. “I just figured we would work it out as we went.” He looks at Jack. “I’m sorry I got so caught up in whatever we were doing. I forgot we were friends.”

It’s Jack’s turn to snort. I move my pistol minutely. He raises an eyebrow in defiance. “Pressing your luck?” I ask settling the paintball gun on my forearm.

He shakes his head and replies, “No,” in the way he does when he knows he has crossed a line.

“Jack,” I ask,” do you want to fix this? What’s got you so jealous of him anyway?”

“I think I’d like to fix this, yes, but he’s going to have to do his part, too!” Jack says defensively.

“What is ‘his part’, Jack?” I ask patiently. Daniel looks on curiously.

“He’s going to have to stop trying to one-up me,” Jack replies as though I’m being obtuse.

“One-up? How, Jack?” Daniel is genuinely confused.

Jack grits his teeth and looks at us. From his expression, he is certain we are just trying to humiliate him. “Well,” he says in exasperation, “like the coffee thing this morning!”

“What about the coffee thing this morning?” Daniel asks slowly.

Jack is clearly frustrated. “What I mean is how you just bounced into the kitchen this morning without so much of a good morning and started to make Sam’s coffee. You didn’t even say thanks for me starting the pot. Why did you do that?”

Understanding dawned on Daniel’s face. He forced out a breath. “I’m so sorry, Jack. You had a mug of black coffee in your hand. I assumed it was yours!”

I hmmm. This admission makes a lot of sense as to Jack’s off behavior lately. He’s stopped running errands with me on Tuesdays. He’s been spending more time in his observatory alone. He doesn’t come to my bed as often. He has even stopped teaching me golf.

Daniel and I share a meaningful glance. “See! That!” Jack says bitterly. “We don’t do that anymore, Sam.”

I look at Jack and nod. “I’ve missed it, too. We both just thought you needed space.”

He shakes his head. The bitterness is evident on his face. “How do you explain Daniel deciding to buy you gifts and flowers after I started doing that stuff?”

“Oh, Jack,” I say with a soft smile. “He saw me fussing over the lilies you bought me and helped me arrange them in the vase for the table. He thought they were a beautiful and thoughtful addition to the dining room, so he decided we should have them regularly. Those were for you to enjoy, too.”

“Oh,” Jack says. “Well, what about the damn paintball pistol?”

Daniel smiles at Jack. “You got her that nice paintball rifle and I thought it would be fun to get her a pistol for backup. You know, like old times.” He gets quiet and looks at Jack sadly. “I hate to ruin the surprise, but I ordered you a custom paintball pistol that’s going to be in for your birthday.”

Jack is clearly starting to feel like a jackass. He turns back to me. “Okay, well why are you in his study every damn night? It has been three months and you’re lucky to miss one night a week. Then, you aren’t even sleeping alone like we all agreed!”

His conviction is clearly slipping, but Daniel and I both nod in agreement with him that we have been spending time in the study. “We weren’t going to say anything, but we have been playing Monopoly. We know how you feel about it, so we didn’t want to upset you,” Daniel explained, again very quietly.

“Jack,” I say with a sigh, “speaking up is part of our agreement, too. Daniel was taking his clues from you, but it sounds like we didn’t realize how much tension it has been causing. How can we fix this?”

I do my best to split my time between them and sometimes I just forget how insecure Jack really is. I think Daniel does, too.

“First, stop trying to spare my feelings. If you’re just playing a game, then tell me. Second, Daniel, it’d be nice if you let me know that you thought my ideas were good ones. We might even be able to work together to add to it. You have both just made me feel like a jackass and right now, I’m not even sure if this can be fixed, much less how to fix it. Oh! And you shot me, Carter! Twice!”

In his anger, Jack stalks back into the house. “C’mon, Nero,” he says and the dog jumps up to follow him.

Daniel and I feel like jackasses, too. Neither of us thought about how our actions looked because we trusted Jack to speak up. “Well,” Daniel says with a sigh. “Maybe we can start making things up to him by making him brunch. You know how much he likes mimosas. I can cook some bacon, too. We have that good maple syrup we got in Canada. You know how much he likes maple bacon pancakes.”

“We should make Nero a pancake, too. He would like that,” I add. “I’ll go see if he wants to take his food in the observatory or if he would like to take it with us. I think he needs to be able to make the choice.”

Daniel nods. “I’m going to clean the paintball off of me and then see if the Peony blooms are open yet. We have been such dicks lately.”

I start up the stairs. The observatory is on the roof, but the attic is where Jack made his personal space. We have come to, collectively, call it The Observatory. I knock. “Come,” he grouses. When I peek my head around the door he follows with, “Didn’t take you long to come and find me.”

I can hear the sarcasm. “Daniel and I want to make it up to you. Can we start with brunch? We all know miscommunications will happen. We see how we started it this time and we are sorry. I do have a question, though. Did you really mean it when you said you only agreed to this arrangement because you thought I would pick one of you one day?”

“That makes me a bigger jerk, doesn’t it?” He asks me as he picks at Nero’s eye boogers. I swear that dog trusts Jack more than any other human on the planet.

“No, Jack, that makes you honest. We appreciate it. Both of us,” I say. “I just thought we were all on the same page when we bought this place. Remember? We all decided to buy this huge place with all of this acreage so we can grow together, but still have our own space when we want it. You know I had the attic picked out for you before we bought the place, right?”

His raised eyebrows tell me he doesn’t know this, however, he is clearly still angry. “Anyway, I came up here to ask if you and Nero wanted to have brunch with us or if you wanted to eat in peace?”

I can see Jack deflate. His anger will dissipate, but the wound will be open for a while. “What’s Daniel cooking?”

“Maple bacon pancakes.”

He looks at Nero and says, “Do you want pancakes?”

The dog jumps up and wags his entire butt. “Yeah, I’ll have brunch with you. Are we going to have those tree screwdrivers, too?”

“Mimosas? Yes. Daniel had already started mixing them before I came up.” I stop him at the door. “I want you to know that we will work for however long it takes to fix this, whether you realize it or not, our lives would be less without you.”

Less what?” He asks.

“Just less,” I say smiling up at him. He put his arm around my shoulders like old times.

I never thought I would manage to wound Jack enough to think I might lose him.