When I saw that my sjficathon assignment was to write for sjhw_tolerance I did a double take. Then I swore. Then I mailed Ness... and no, it wasn't a mistake. And after much wailing and gnashing of teeth, I came to the conclusion that the only way I could deal with writing a story for a close friend (who also happens to be my beta reader) was to make Jack suffer too. So I proudly present –

"Secrets and Lies" (or Danny Lurks #19)

Author: Wendy Parkinson
Rating: PG13
Summary: Jack has a problem with his ficathon assignment.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be if I keep treating them like this. ;-)

Written for sjhw_tolerance who requested Jonas, Crab Rangoon and bowling, but no Daniel, doohickeys or Sam and Jack paired with anyone else. Sue, do you have any idea how awkward it is to write a Danny Lurks story without Daniel? ;-)

Before I get any further I want to publicly apologise to Sue for lying through my teeth when we've been chatting over the last few weeks. I've been working on this story since before she went to Disneyland, and have been very happy about it, no matter what I might have said to the contrary. It also explains why I may have appeared less than enthusiastic about our collaboration at some points. Sorry, Sue.

Also, a huge thank you to alliesings and coloneljack for beta duties, and their invaluable suggestions.

For the uninitiated, the very silly premise of the Danny Lurks stories is that pretty much everyone at the SGC is on the samandjack mailing list and is reading and writing fanfiction. The other eighteen stories can be found on my website, as can the more recent 'Atlantis Online' continuations of the idea, though I think this one should make sense (for a certain value of ‘sense’) without reading the others first.

And Sue? If you want either of the stories Jack wrote, you can write them yourself. ;-)

Secrets and Lies

Jonas sat patiently in the infirmary and looked around. He sighed. He loved coming back to Earth for visits, but having to go to the infirmary for a check up every time was a nuisance. Clearing his throat, he stood up and stretched. The nurse on duty glanced across at him, and then went back to her typing.

He walked over to her, and looked down at the desk. The main computer keyboard had been pushed to one side, and she was typing furiously at a tiny keyboard with a PDA plugged into it. To her left, a small tin of mints sat next to a photo of two cats. A child’s drawing of the Stargate was stuck to the side of her monitor, “For my favorite Aunt” carefully written at the bottom in purple crayon. As he leaned over the desk, he spotted a bag of knitting on the floor by her feet. He peered at her nametag. “Sue?”

She stopped her typing and peered over her glasses at him. “Yes, Mr. Quinn, can I help you?”

His curiosity aroused, he just had to ask. “What are you typing?”

Sue looked a little uncomfortable. “My sjficathon entry.” She looked at the tiny screen and frowned. “How do you spell ‘discreet’?”

“As in math, or secretive?”

“Secretive.”

“D-I-S-C-R-E-E-T.”

“Thanks. I swear one of these days my beta is going to make me write that out ten times.” She smiled. “Anyway, what can I do for you?”

“How long am I going to have to wait?”

She glanced at her watch. “About fifteen minutes, I guess.”

Jonas grinned. “Just long enough for you to tell me all about this ficathon…”

Jack O’Neill looked at the computer screen and blinked. Then he rubbed his eyes and looked again. No, this couldn’t be right. Ness must have made a mistake… or she had a very, very warped sense of humour.

He could not write a story for Sam.

No, he thought, that wasn’t entirely true. He couldn’t write a story for Sam and keep it secret from her. And including “whipped cream, coconuts and a giraffe” wasn’t going to be a walk in the park either. He looked more closely at the assignment. God, there were things he couldn’t mention as well – “Rodney McKay, symbiotes and cheese.” Jack frowned. The first two he could understand, but ‘cheese’? Did that include pizza? Fondue? What about cheesecake? He scratched his head. This was going to require some serious thought.

And cake. Cake definitely helped the thought processes. With that in mind, he headed for the commissary.

“Hey, T!”

The Jaffa looked up from the notebook he was scribbling in and inclined his head. “O’Neill.”

Jack looked round the commissary and put his tray down on the table. “Where’s…?” he asked, waving his hand in explanation as he tried to spot the other member of SG1.

“He is on P5X2655 with an archaeological team.”

“Oh. So he won’t be participating in the sjficathon?”

“I do not believe so.”

Jack took a bite of his chocolate cake and, twisting his head round, tried to read what Teal’c had written on his pad. “Are you?”

“I am. Vanessa has set me a most interesting assignment.”

“Yeah, me too,” muttered Jack.

Ignoring him, the Jaffa carried on, “I have to include ‘rabbits, handcuffs and silk scarves’, but not mention ‘clichés, pregnancy or horrible disfiguring diseases’.”

“Rabbits, handcuffs and silk scarves? Sounds kind of kinky, T. I guess it’s going to be an NC17, or whatever the rating system calls it nowadays.”

“No, O’Neill. I am writing about you and the Lieutenant Colonel going to see a magician.”

“Oh.” Jack shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Guess this means I have a dirty mind?”

Teal’c raised an eyebrow. Sometimes words were unnecessary.

At that moment, Jonas walked into the commissary. “Colonel! Teal’c! It’s great to see you!”

Jack grinned. “You are out of the loop, aren’t you? It’s ‘General’ now, and Carter’s a Lieutenant Colonel. But, anyway… it’s good to see you too. How are you?”

“Fine.” He sat down opposite Teal’c. “The nurse in the infirmary was just telling me about this ficathon. Are you participating?”

“Indeed,” intoned the Jaffa. “It is most fun.”

Jonas turned to Jack. “General?”

“Well, I’ve got a problem with my assignment.”

“You’ve got to write something PG rated?”

Jack frowned. How the hell had he got that reputation? “No, I’ve got to write for Carter. I don’t know how I’m going to keep it secret – she usually betas my stories.”

“Tell her you haven’t finished it,” suggested Jonas. “I’ll beta it for you.”

“I’ll probably take you up on that, thanks.”

“Or you could write two stories,” said Teal’c. “And show her the false one.”

Jack thought that sounded too much like hard work. And he only had a couple of days to finish it. “I’ll think about it, T.” He looked up and his heart sank when he saw Sam walk in. She smiled and headed to get something to eat.

“Oh hell,” he muttered, taking another bite of cake. It tasted like sawdust in his dry mouth. He was going to blow this, he knew it.

“Sir, Teal’c,” Sam said, taking a seat. “And Jonas. Good to see you again.”

“Congratulations on your promotion, Sam.”

“Thanks.”

“So what’s the fanfiction scene like these days?” Jonas asked.

“Busy,” replied Sam. “Atlantis stories are gaining in popularity.”

“So they’re safe?” asked Jonas.

“According to the mailing lists and lj communities,” added Jack. “Though I wouldn’t like to be those fanfic authors when McKay finds out what they’ve been writing about him. They treat him worse than our resident whipping boy…. And he’s not the sunniest person in this or any other galaxy to start with.”

“And we’ve all signed up for a sjficathon,” said Sam enthusiastically.

“I heard,” replied Jonas. “What’s your assignment?”

“Blue jello, John Sheppard and amnesia, but no twins, angst or chocolate sauce.”

“Sheppard’s on the Atlantis expedition, isn’t he?” asked Jonas.

“Yeah, and I never met him, which makes writing this kind of difficult.”

“Keep referring to the bed head hair and you won’t go far wrong,” muttered Jack. Everyone looked at him. “What? So I’ve been reading a lot of Atlantis stuff. I’m concerned about them, okay?”

“What have you got to write, sir?” Sam smiled sweetly at Jack.

“Ah… well…” Think of something, O’Neill… think of something... “Er… sex.”

“What are the other two things?”

Jack narrowed his eyes. This was not going well. “Um… sex and more sex?” he suggested, forcing a smile. “Look I’ve just remembered, I’ve got an important meeting with Siler… He’s going to show me a list of stuff he’s blown up accidentally in the last few weeks.” He stood up and virtually ran from the commissary.

Sam watched him leave. “Well, that was odd, even for him.” She turned to her companions. “Do you have any idea what’s the matter with him?”

Teal’c and Jonas both shook their heads. There was a long pause, and then Jonas said, “How about going bowling tonight? And then we could…”

“Have Chinese,” finished Sam. She grinned. “You still haven’t figured out how to make Crab Rangoon on Kelowna?”

“No, we don’t actually have any indigenous crabs. The nearest I could find was lemmingelliot fish, and it just doesn’t taste the same.”

“I will enjoy that, Jonas Quinn,” said Teal’c. “I shall look forward to our bowling contest.”

“One day I’ll win, Teal’c, one day I’ll win…”

Jack fiddled with his chopsticks and glanced up at Sam. She was talking to Jonas about some scientific concept he couldn’t be bothered to try and understand. He couldn’t help smiling. She looked really hot tonight – her hair seemed softer, more feminine, and she always looked good in jeans.

“Something amusing you, sir?” she asked, breaking into his thoughts.

“Just happy, Carter.”

“Well, I’m glad you are,” muttered Jonas. “I can’t believe Teal’c won at bowling… again. I’ll beat him one day, you know.” He sounded almost petulant.

“I believe the correct phrase is ‘when hell freezes over’, Jonas Quinn,” said the Jaffa, smiling in that worrying way only he could.

“I know what it is!” exclaimed Sam. “You’ve thought of a plot for your sex, sex and more sex story!”

Jonas made a strange snorting noise, and then started coughing. Sam slapped him on the back.

“Well, that would be telling, wouldn’t it, Carter? Aren’t all the stories supposed to be secret?”

“Yes, but it also says you should get them betaed. So I’ll get to see it soon anyway. The deadline’s in two days, sir.” She smiled sweetly and Jack’s stomach clenched. Teal’c’s idea of writing two stories was beginning to look more attractive. He could start the false one tonight and write the real one tomorrow.

Jack staggered through into his kitchen and poured another cup of coffee. He glanced at his watch and groaned. 2am. His alarm would go off in three and a half hours. Oh joy. Picking up the mug, he went back to his computer and read through what he’d written. Not too bad. It just needed a little polishing. He looked again, sighed deeply and reached for the delete key. ‘Moist sanctum’? What the hell was he thinking? He scanned down the story, checking for more examples of excessively purple prose. Nothing too florid jumped out at him, although if he could think of something better, ‘throbbing manhood’ might have to go; Sam hadn’t liked that phrase the last time he’d used it.

Looking over the story one last time, he smiled. Yes, this might actually work. He’d give this story to Sam for a beta in the morning, and tomorrow he would have to write the other story. What was it he’d got to incorporate? Jack had a quick look at the email from Ness. A giraffe, whipped cream and coconuts. Okay… they could go to the beach, have a romantic meal under a palm tree that involved something covered in whipped cream and…. meet a giraffe? Giraffes didn’t live at the beach, did they? Yawning, he opened Google and typed in ‘giraffe habitat’.

Giraffes tend to live in dry, open wooded areas in the savannah. They are grass-eating herbivores and feed mainly on leaves and buds of acacia trees. They also feed on mimosa and wild apricot trees.

No coconuts. Jack swore quietly to himself. He carried on searching: a spa, a hotel, various companies selling anything from advertising to greetings cards and what was this? Cheyenne Mountain Zoo? Who knew they had a herd of giraffes?

Smiling to himself, he decided to call it a night.

“Sir, here’s your beta.” Sam held out several sheets of paper. She smiled. “I find it a lot easier to beta a printed copy and I haven’t had time to type up the corrections. I realise we’re on a tight deadline here, so I thought I ought to get it back to you.”

“Corrections?” Jack winced. “That bad, huh?”

“No, not at all.” She glanced down at the papers in her hand. “Only a few typos… but you misspelled ‘satisfy’ again. And you remember when I told you not to use ‘throbbing manhood’ in your last story?”

“Yeah?”

“It was preferable to ‘rod of passion’.”

Jack frowned. He’d kind of liked it; to him it was nicely descriptive. Perhaps he’d be able to sneak it into his next story without her noticing. He took the papers from her. “Thanks, Carter.”

“You’re welcome.” She turned and left his office.

When Jack was sure she’d gone, he opened his laptop and started a new Word document. Taking a deep breath, and stifling a yawn, he started to type…

Jack walked round the base positively twitching with anticipation. He’d posted his story half an hour ago and he still hadn’t seen or heard anything from Sam. Perhaps she hated it. No, he thought. How could she hate it? He’d incorporated everything she’d wanted, hadn’t mentioned McKay, cheese or symbiotes… nor had he used ‘throbbing manhood’ or anything similar.

He was heading for the control room when Sam came walking towards him. “Sir!” she said, a beaming grin on her face. “It’s wonderful.”

A huge wave of relief washed over him. “Thanks.”

“I love the idea of a trip to the zoo, then a romantic meal… and even a cocktail drunk from a coconut shell.”

Jack felt himself blushing with pride. “Glad you liked it.”

“And the use of whipped cream was… inventive.”

He grinned. He’d thought she’d enjoy that part.

“One thing I can’t understand though… How did you manage to keep it secret?”

“With difficulty,” he admitted ruefully.

“And you went to all the trouble of writing two stories, so I didn’t suspect anything.” She looked up at him, her eyes shining. “That’s a real romantic thing to do.”

“It is?”

“I don’t know what I can do to thank you.”

Jack smiled at her mischievously, and pulled her into a nearby storage room. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll think of something,” he muttered as his mouth closed over hers.

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