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The Joys of Marshmallow Cream

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Summary: SG1/BtVS Fic-A-Thon for Jinni: Dawn discovers the joy of marshmallow cream. And licking. And, well, Daniel. Happy fluff.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Stargate > Dawn-CenteredKeiFR1813,527393,79716 May 0716 May 07Yes
AN: My apologies to Jinni for being two days late (silly life). My apologies to
my readers who have patiently (or not so patiently) been waiting for updates.
I am alive, and treasure each and every comment (even the really silly ones). :)

Disclaimer: There is no plot. There is some hint of smut. Just a hint. I can't
write sex scenes to save my life. Buffy post Chosen, Stargate SG1 is a made up
season- Jack is the General, Daniel never ascended, we know little about the
Ancients, and well... I mentioned the lack of plot, right?

Details are so unimportant... I own nothing.

****************************** The Joys of Marshmallow Cream ********************

Dawn would have bet Mugich salivia that Stargate Command’s premiere bachelor, err,
archaeologist, had the hots for her. She wasn’t sure enough to bet, say, Kevesh
teeth on it, having grown up in the functional relationship barren wasteland that
was SunnyHell, but she’d bet Mugich salivia.

It wasn’t anything obvious, mind you. She’d been smitten from the start, but
about six months into her tenure as archeologist in training for the SGC, and a
little heavy handed flirting on her part, and she’d started to notice little
hints and clues. Not from Daniel, of course, that’d be too easy. But Samantha
Carter had gone from coolly professional to offering a rare smile when they met
in the hallway, Teal’c raised his left eyebrow a little more often in greeting,
and Jack O’Neill was known to wander the halls humming something that sounded
suspiciously like, “Daniel and Summers, sitting in a tree…”

She would have thought he meant Buffy, but Jack reserved a special name for her
older sister and it rhymed with witch in a way that made Willow giggle and Buffy
reach for something sharp and pointy. Jack definitely had the hots for her sister,
which while a big “eww” of epic proportions, hopefully excluded Daniel’s own
infatuation with the oldest living Slayer.

Surely the universe wouldn’t be cruel enough to turn an eternal ball of mystical,
dimension warping energy into a human girl, AND then make the only man she’d
wanted to lick on her own free will since that disastrous Vampire outing of
her youth fall in lust with her sister too (the jacket thing SO didn’t count)
(or Xander) (or that brief infatuation with Spike) (and there would be no
mention of Andrew and tequila, EVER) (her love life sucked).

Oh fuck it.

She definitely wasn’t betting Kevesh teeth. The damn demons only teethed once
every two hundred years and the last teething cycle still gave her nightmares.
Mouths were NOT supposed to exist DOWN there. It just mucked up body mechanics,
even in demons.

Talk about eww.

She really did want to lick Daniel though. Right along the start of his
shoulders, up the back of his neck, and into the indentation of the back of
his ear. Then she wanted to do things that involved more than licking.
Things that did NOT involve clothing. Well, clothing not made of latex,
leather, or lace. And honey. Honey would be okay if they weren’t on her
silk sheets. Maybe marshmallow cream, though Kennedy swore up and down the
stuff wasn’t worth the trouble it took. Willow only blushed though whenever
that particular conversation came up though, so, Dawn wasn’t going to entirely
rule out marshmallow cream.

Daniel had very nice ears after all. Marshmallow worthy ears.

Surely it meant something that his current team and best friend, the current
General in charge of Stargate Command, seemed to share the opinion that Daniel
wanted to lick her too? Of course, Daniel, being DANIEL, would never do
anything about it. Especially not while she was still officially in training,
under him.

Oh, she thought crossly, if ONLY.

Dawn sighed and tried to content herself with staring at Dr. Daniel Jackson’s
left ear surreptitiously during the briefing.


Daniel hadn’t MEANT to fall in love. Or lust. He hoped it was love.
Otherwise the lust was kind of creepy. Not that he believed you had to be in
love in order to have a nice, healthy sexually relationship with someone.
Sam and the head of the Watchers Council did pretty well. She never talked
about Xander, but every time there was an “inspection” of Stargate Command,
Sam seemed especially content for days afterwards.

But while Xander Harris was younger than Sam, he wasn’t nearly as young as
Dawn Summers, and Daniel was definitely a few years older than Sam. Either
way, Daniel always felt incredibly creepy when he woke from yet another
dream featuring a lovely willowy brunette who seemed to have some sort of
fixation on his ears.

Oblivious as he was, even Daniel had noticed that.

He hoped that her apparent interest went beyond just an ear fetish. It
was possible though, he supposed, that the interest did end with his ears.
He had very nice ears, and they were considerably less verbal than the rest
of him. Jack was always telling him he was too verbose. Without using
the word verbose of course.

It was Jack.

Besides, Cathy, down at the infirmary, was happily married but entirely
fixated on his knees. It took all kinds after all.

He tried to pay attention to the briefing they were being given about
PX-37821, or as Jack crossly referred to it, the Dirt Planet, but well,
Jack’s other nickname for PX-37821 was also That Boring Dirt Planet. And,
well, it was true. PX-37821 was pretty much a normal planet. A normal
planet that had millions of years worth of technology left by the Ancients.
Yeah, those Ancients.

Which had been the find of his lifetime when SG1 had first stumbled upon
the stupid planet four or five years ago. It still probably WAS the find
of his lifetime, and had cultural implications too immense to contemplate,
or would, if they could figure out what any of the damn stuff did.

Daniel was a patient man by nature. A patient man with a quick mind, a
gift for languages, and friends who could turn a paper clip, a piece of
string, and a peanut into some kind of technological breakthrough. Between
his and Sam’s brains, there was NO reason they shouldn’t have unlocked SOME
of the secrets of the Ancients in, say, the last half a decade.

But, should did not equal COULD, and so, the greatest find of his lifetime
had been reduced to an obligation of immensely annoying proportion. A team
wasn’t even sent with the scientists and archaeologists who determinedly
went through the gate to diligently work on trying to figure some of the
damn stuff out. Instead, he, and Sam, and affiliated colleagues, took week
long trips that mostly consisted of them digging in the dirt, looking for,
well, MORE clues. Sometimes they made Jack go, because of the whole gift
of the Ancients fiasco. Jack hated field work that involved dirt.
Especially field work that involved him and dirt.

Hence, That Boring Dirt Planet.

Daniel had hopes though, that Dawn might be able to move their efforts a
little further along than the dirt digging stage though. She matched him
in so well intellectually it was frightening, and while her affinity for
languages was slightly less historical than based in, well, demonology, that
in itself was impressive because most demonic languages existed purely
without the influence of human speech patterns. Besides the fact that she
could go toe to toe with him in Jeopardy like few could, Dawn also had a
gift for insight and intuition that he had never seen matched.

Buffy Summers swore up and down once you averted a dozen apocalypses it was
kind of hard not to be intuitive. It came hand in hand with the whole world
not ending because of you thing.

Daniel personally thought that was a harsh way to learn, but he was hopeful
it would help out on PX-37821. And, if nothing else, it was a week in close
quarters with, well, Dawn.

Oh, he was so smitten. And in lust. And definitely, definitely, a dirty old man.


It should have been funny. Really, it should have. But as Dawn huddled in
the absolute dark next to what seemed to be the main temple/ technology base
on PX-37821 she was mostly working on not working herself up into a full
fledged panic attack. Oh there wasn’t invading hordes of vampires, or Goa’uld,
or, well, anything. PX-37821 was nice and enemy free. There weren’t even
flesh eating bacteria. It was just, well, dark.

That Boring Dark Dirt Planet.

Hence the terror.

It was funny that in all her time in growing up on the Hellmouth, it wasn’t
Glory trying to spill her blood from a tower, or her sister waking up after
being ripped from Heaven in her own coffin, or young Potentials, many younger
than her, dying horribly gruesome deaths from the First Evil, that gave her
nightmares anymore. Dawn, thanks to the help of some very well paid, and
extremely confidential therapists, had worked through a lot of her issues.
She didn’t even klepto anymore. But one thing she hadn’t quite worked past
was the kidnapping attempt from about three years ago that had gone badly,
VERY badly.

Dawn locked in a warehouse, in an unrefrigerated meat locker full of rotting
corpses, several of which were dead Slayers, in perfect absolute darkness, bad.

It had taken Buffy and Willow and Xander nearly a week to find her.

Willow had almost ended the world.

Buffy had almost eradicated the local demon population in a three state radius
in her desperation to get to Dawn.

And, Dawn, well, didn’t have nightmares anymore, yay therapy, but also had
developed a phobia of unbroken darkness.


She heard Daniel’s voice, distantly, as she sank to the ground, knees to her
chin, and tried to close her eyes and pretend the darkness was all in her head.
Because being crazy, much better than being in a planet whose light switch she
had just accidentally flipped off.

“Dawn, are you okay?”

Daniel was getting closer, but Dawn was too busy working on her counting exercises.

One. Two. There are no dead bodies. Three.


Four. Five. Willow put a magical tracking device on me. I can be found. Six.

“Dawn, you HAVE to answer me!”

Seven. Eight.

She shrieked as Daniel accidentally tripped over her, sending him sprawling right
into the text laden stone wall she had been working on trying to translate in the
center of the temple. There was a muffled oath right before a not so muffled crack,
and then the entire weight of Daniel Jack’s unconscious body fell back on her. Dawn
eeped rather ungraciously, reached up, felt the blood trickling down from an
impressive bump on her current crush’s head, and tried not to cry.

Nine. Ten. I HATE Tuesdays.


Daniel woke to muttering. Muttering, and a REALLY bad headache.

“One. Two. Three. The Ancients can kiss my ass. Four. Five. Six. Daniel
should. Seven. Eight. Panic attacks are NOT attractive. Nine. Ten. Stupid
malfunctioning technology.”

He tried to sit up from his rather uncomfortable prone position, then moaned when
he realized that prone was a much, MUCH better option than trying to move. “Oh,
oww, that hurts…”

He reached up to feel what was likely a REALLY impressive lump on the back of his
head, but paused halfway as he realized, even with the darkness, that his right
eye was covered with a… “Why is there a sock on my head?”

“Because you hit it with a wall,” came the cross sounding answer. There was a
slight shuffling and suddenly Daniel could smell the fresh, clean scent he had
come to associate with Dawn. He tried to keep his heartbeat steady as she leaned
over him and carefully pressed cool fingers around the area that the knee high
sock was bandaging. Even with the darkness, and the likely concussion, it only
took him a minute to realize that Dawn was shaking like a leaf.

“Are you okay?”

He winced as a finger slipped and almost jabbed him in his uncovered eye.

“I’m FINE,” was the tightly coiled reply.

Yes, definitely, FINE. Daniel, after a minute of painful pondering, decided to
try a different tact. “It’s still dark.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“Why is it still dark?”

There was a low growl, another incomprehensible recitation to ten, this time in
Summerian, and then his flashlight was shoved into his hands. Daniel frowned,
tried to turn it on, and then frowned some more. “It doesn’t work.”

God, he hated head wounds. Way to sound like a moron. He thought for a pained

“No technology works, does it?”

There was an affirmative grunt, and another recitation of ten, this time in Ancient
Egyptian, before he heard Dawn moving back towards the wall. “The Gate won’t work,
will it?”

This time there was a deep sigh. “I doubt it. I think I flipped the switch to the
entire planet. You can’t even see the stars.” There was a long pause. “Either
way, our radios are down, and I can’t get us back over uneven ground without light.
Not with your noggin.”

Daniel was silent for a moment. “Dawn?”

He heard her still, take a deep breath, and answer. “Yeah?”

“Thanks for the sock.”

Her answering laugh was a half sob, but he ignored that part. “You’re welcome.”


“Clap on, clap off, clap on, clap off.” You known, the Ancient’s language really
did have a lot more in common with demonology linguistics than with any of the
human languages she had encountered so far. Which, given the relative ages of
demons and the Ancients versus humans, kind of made sense. Since this was the
first time Daniel had really given her a crack at it, it was exciting to notice
the parallels in structure and verb tenses.

It would be down right thrilling if she wasn’t still on the edge of a nervous
breakdown and having to try to translate the Ancient’s language by feel alone.
Her calloused fingers traced the curve of the letter again as she contemplated
its similarity to Drydic’s guttural grunts. Not quite a perfect fit but, maybe
if you took into account the evolution of…

Dawn was almost distracted enough by the intellectual puzzle presented by the
possibility of translation that she, first of all, only half wanted to curl
up into a ball of sheer terror and have a mental incident, and second of all,
almost missed Daniel’s moan. She frowned, absently counted to ten, moved
closer. She’d been so absorbed by trying not to crack that she hadn’t
realized he’d fallen asleep.

Which, given the likelihood of a concussion, was what would be classified
as a Bad Thing. Jack and Buffy shacking up level of Bad Thing.

He moaned again and she was already reaching out to him before she realized
that it wasn’t a moan of pain. No, she KNEW what those sounded like.
Unfortunately, having grown up and lived now for over a decade with the
hormonally charged Scoobies and mini-Slayers, she knew what the other kinds
of moans sounded like too. Not that she got to have nearly as much fun,
she thought crossly.

But Daniel, Daniel was definitely having the non-pain filled kind of moan.
Which, given how much pain he was in, was really quite impressive. Dawn
chewed her lip, and tried to decide what to do. She hated to wake him up
if he was truly asleep, but, again, sleep and concussions not friends.

She had one hand reached out to gently shake him away when the moans turned
into something even MORE interesting.

Like, say, her name.

Despite the absolute darkness she blinked dumbly, once, twice, and mentally
decided that she would bet her ENTIRE supply of Kevesh teeth on the fact that
Daniel would have no problems with her climbing him like a tree and yelling
“Timber!” Not if those moans and his arched back were any indication.

Before her common sense kicked in, Dawn, dry mouthed and feeling entirely too
immature, felt and discovered that Daniel’s back wasn’t the only thing doing
some arching either. Truth to be told, it was flattering, and hot as hell,
and well, BDUs REALLY didn’t do anything for her figure at all. It was nice
that he had such vivid dreams featuring her in a stripper routine that started
out with her in full field clothes.

Who knew that Daniel was such a dirty old man?

At which point Dawn’s hard earned intuition kicked in and the metaphorical
light bulb went off bright enough that even humping Daniel’s leg was driven
entirely from her head. Because, “Oh, oh, that was sneaky…”

Dawn scrambled back to the wall started to REALLY concentrate.

Darkness be damned.


Daniel woke to soft lips pressed against his. Lips, and, woah, that was
tongue, very, VERY nice tongue, and wow, he’d missed tongue. He moaned and
reached up dazedly to cradle the back of the head kissing him senseless.
And there was warm, silky hair, and a strong, clean scent he always associated


DAWN! He was kissing Dawn.

Was getting kissed.

Why did his head hurt so much again?

Daniel cracked one eye open about the time the entire planet flipped back on.
The sunlight hit his aching head like a ton of sock covered bricks and he
shrieked in sudden pain as Dawn shrieked in triumph and proceeded to do what
suspiciously looked like the Snoopy dance around the Temple of the Ancients.

He managed to stop seeing two about the time Dawn calmed down enough to crouch
back down by him, looking entirely too smug for someone who had just initiated a
make out session with an unconscious man. Daniel peered at her with his one eye
and he absently readjusted the sock over his other eye. “Are you going to
explain any of this?”

She nodded, a little too enthusiastically for his tastes as her eyes gleamed
with what looked suspiciously like… lust? “After the marshmallow cream.”

“Marshmallow cream?” Daniel asked rather weakly. Weakly and with a rapid
dissolution of what morals he had left with regards to Dawn Summers.

Dawn licked her lips. Daniel decided that he was going to gain a whole new
fondness for marshmallow cream. And before he could stop her he had a lap full
of lithe and tanned and clean smelling Dawn. And tongue, and a whole lot of
arching that his head still hurt way too much to theoretically allow.

“Remind me,” she murmured into his ear as she licked it with torturous
dedicated accuracy, “that I owe you some Kevesh teeth. All of them in fact.”

“Kevesh teeth? But aren’t they…”

“Yes,” she murmured as she did some arching of her own, “very rare. Almost
as rare as a helpless archaeologist.”

“But I’m always… Oh,” Daniel finished weakly, “I get it.”

Head wounds always made him stupid. This time, he thought as he gasped, in
a really good way.


“So, the so-called weapons on PX-37821 aren’t weapons at all, but instead an
almost warehouse of advancement tools, for races trying to achieve the status
of the Ancients. To ascend. And thanks to Dawn, for better or worse, we
have the beginning of the tools we need to decipher the language of the
Ancients and understand what they left behind.”

“So Dawn’s stumbled upon…”

Sam flipped her report closed as she answered the General. “It was one of
the main devices- as near as we can figure after the preliminary report Dawn
gave, it is designed to help individuals overcome deeply inset fears by making
them relive and face up to whatever is holding them back from further growth.
Dawn flipped it on when she was trying to translate the temple.”

General O’Neill pursed his lips. “Not that I’m complaining that That Boring
Dirt Planet is no longer something I have to go dig around at and pretend to
be interested, but where is Summers? Where’s Daniel for that matter?”

Sam hated that she could feel herself turn red. Xander had been good for a
lot of things. While giving an outlet to her inner sexuality had been one of
them, he’d yet to break her of her military born prudishness when it came to
*talking* about sex. Especially when in uniform.

Never mind some of the stuff that had started out with her in uniform.

The military definitely didn’t need to know that.

“Umm, I believe they are otherwise occupied since Janet patched Daniel up and
cleared them both, Sir.”


Sam coughed before discreetly muttering, “Daniel and Summers, sitting in a tree.”

General Jack O’Neill blinked once, twice, and started chuckling. “Way to go
Danny Boy. Who won the pool?”

“Cathy, down in the infirmary, had it pegged to the very week.”

“Think we could buy stock in marshmallow cream? The stuff’s stock is bound to

Sam turned bright red.


Dawn smiled smugly and reached for the marshmallow cream. As much as she liked
the curve up his shoulder to the shell of his ears, the curve that her tongue
followed from his lower back to, well, lower, was infinitely more intriguing.

Hell with Kennedy. Marshmallow cream was definitely worth it.

Daniel blushed almost as bright as Willow.

The End

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