What About Committing the Same Sin
Over and Over Again and Again

"It's my birthday."

Jack turns his head, his gaze falling on a tanned face. "You don't say."

Daniel shifts against the desk, his hands curled around the metal edge. Jack can see the dirt under his nails, dirt from some far off dig on some planet Jack can't even remember, but where Daniel dug his hands into the dirt and smiled at Jack like he mattered.

"I wasn't sure if you remembered."

"I did."

"You didn't get me a present."

Jack shrugs a little, his hands playing with a sharpened pencil. The soft lead leaves a mark on his finger when he presses the tip against the soft flesh. Daniel doesn't say anything until Jack looks up at him again.

"I like presents, you know. I like the presents you get me."

"I didn't get you a present this year," Jack puts the pencil down. "And you don't like the presents I get you. Last year's birthday present is still sitting in its package. You never even tried it."

"It's a shrine."

"A shrine?" Jack lifts an eyebrow, waiting for more explanation.

"To us. We reached the point where you bought me a gift for you without even realizing it," said Daniel. "So I saved it to remind me of that."

"You needed to be reminded of that?"

Daniel nods, his lips pressed together. Jack looks at clear blue eyes and artfully messy hair, missing the glasses and the messy hair that was only messy because Daniel didn't notice it was.

"I would have gotten you a present. If - " Jack stops and walks to the front of the desk, putting both hands on the desk and bracketing Daniel's body with his own. He can feel the warmth emanating from Daniel's skin, the soft breath against his cheek. With a soft sigh, he leans forward to press his lips to Daniel's, but touches nothing but air. " - if you were real."

Jack steps back and there is no Daniel in front of him, no tanned face or blue eyes. His hands touch the cold desk, his eyes falling on a small wrapped package sitting on the table behind his desk.