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Daniel had made it exactly five and a half pages into The Ethnolinguistics of Pre-Aztec Symbol Systems when the soft weight of Sam’s body settled against him - slowly, carefully, like a drifting leaf. Her injured arm, cradled in a sling, remained motionless, but her braced wrist found a resting place against his chest with practiced familiarity.
She was half on top of him now, legs tangled with his, breath warm where it tickled his neck. He hadn’t exactly invited the arrangement, but he also hadn’t stopped it.
The painkillers were clearly doing their work. She hummed softly under her breath every now and then, some tuneless melody only she could hear, and blinked up at him - or maybe at his collarbone - with that hazy, floating look she got when her brain had unlatched itself from linear thought.
Once, she paused to squint at his shirt buttons with deep, drowsy curiosity.
Daniel shifted slightly to turn the page, and Sam responded by burrowing closer like a very sleepy heat-seeking device.
He sighed. He wasn’t finishing this chapter.
Not tonight.
He adjusted the pillows behind his back and shifted again to support her better, letting his free hand settle lightly around her waist.
Sam hummed, warm and sleepy against him. “Y’really comfortable,” she murmured, not quite slurred, but close.
“I aim to please,” he said dryly, flipping the page. Not that he retained anything from the last one. Or the one before that.
She nuzzled into his neck, her breath soft against his skin. “You smell like books,” she added, as if that were a compliment.
“Books, soap and existential dread. My signature blend.”
The bedroom door creaked open.
Sam didn’t stir. Daniel didn’t look up. He heard the soft pad of socked feet across the carpet, followed by a theatrical sigh.
Then the mattress dipped, and Jack sat on the edge of the bed, gaze flicking between the two of them.
“Well,” he said, leaning over to run a hand gently through Sam’s hair. “Gonna have to get you a damn teddy bear.”
Sam lifted her head, blinking owlishly. “Don’t wanna teddy bear.”
Daniel raised an eyebrow, eyes still on his book.
“Wanna Daniel,” Sam added, decisively, patting his chest, as if this was a matter of deep importance.
Jack chuckled, leaning in to kiss her temple. “You keep stealing my snugglebuddy?”
“Snugglebuddy?” Daniel echoed, tone somewhere between scandalized and amused.
Sam gave Jack a dopey smile. “He’s warm. And he reads to me. And he got a heartbeat. It’s nice. Rhythmic.””
“That’s not weird at all,” Daniel said, though his arm tightened a little around her. “And I am not reading to you.”
“You were reading. Out loud. A little.”
Daniel looked up from the book. “I was muttering. To myself.”
Jack smirked. “Soothing voice. I get it.”
“I’m injured,” Sam added, laying her head back down dramatically. “Traumatized. And Daniel cuddles are medicinal. Janet all but prescribed them.”
Jack raised both eyebrows. “The doc said ‘rest,’ Carter. Not ‘attach yourself to Daniel like a sleepy barnacle’”
Sam made a wounded noise. “This is rest. I’m comfy. Did I mention how comfy?”
Daniel, reluctantly charmed, muttered, “Yes. Several times.”
Jack gave him a look. “You’re really gonna read through this?”
“I’m trying,” Daniel replied, flipping a page. “Some of us care about ancient Mesoamerican iconography.”
Sam blinked slowly at Jack. “He’s warm and educational.”
Jack laughed. “Right. So I’m just chopped liver?”
“Daniel cuddles are medicinal,” she said again, with absolute sincerity.
Daniel gave Jack a helpless shrug. “I mean, who am I to argue with medical advice?”
Jack huffed. “Fine. You know what? I’m not gonna sit here like an idiot while you two play warm fuzzy science blanket. Scoot.”
Before either of them could protest, pulled his sweatshirt off in one smooth motion, tossing it toward the hamper, followed by his pants, leaving well-worn boxers and a familiar grey T-shirt. He climbed into bed behind Sam like he’d been planning it all evening, sliding into the space she’d left in her clingy sprawl.
Daniel made a token noise of protest, book half-raised.” What are you-?”
Jack settled in, one arm going around both of them, his chest flush to Sam’s back. “There. Perfect. I regret nothing.”
Sam made a pleased sound and leaned back into him immediately. “Mmm. Jack cuddles too. Jackpot.”
Jack snorted. “That was terrible.”
“Still counts,” she mumbled, eyes already drooping shut again.
Daniel stared at the page. He hadn’t turned it in five minutes.
“Just admit it,” Jack said smugly. “This is better than your book.”
Daniel exhaled, deeply, and let the book fall shut. “I was never finishing it anyway.”
“You were pretending to read while being seduced by sleepy blonde logic,” Jack replied.
Sam made a sleepy noise of agreement. “Told you he was warm.”
“You did,” Jack said, kissing the top of her head. “And now I’m here to verify. Mmm. You are warm. Is this a book thing? Like, is that your secret? Heated by facts?”
Daniel sighed, setting the book face-down on his chest. “You’re both impossible.”
“You love us,” Jack said, smug.
Sam patted Daniel’s chest with her good hand. “Best pillow.”
“Damn right,” Jack added. “Though I’d argue I make a pretty good blanket.”
Daniel muttered something unprintable and let his eyes close.
He hadn’t gotten through ten pages.
But he was warm. He was safe. And Sam, slowly going slack between them, had stopped muttering altogether. She was already asleep, breath slow and even, caught between one heartbeat and the next.
Jack’s hand found his under the blanket. A quiet squeeze.
Yeah. Okay.
He’d take this over iconography any day.