"Jack?"

His first instinct is to clench his jaw, but he forces himself to take a deep breath, and then another. It doesn't quite settle the seething frustration. "I don't want to hear it right now," he manages after the fourth or fifth breath. 

"But, I-"

"Daniel," Jack pins him down with a hard glare, noting as he does that Carter has made herself conspicuously busy going through their bags on the other side of the room, but Teal'c is watching them carefully. "You will have plenty of time to explain the choices you've made today to me later. Right now, if it's not life or death, save it."

Daniel opens his mouth, but then he meets Jack's eyes and something must finally click because he snaps it shut again and subsides, looking away. Running a frustrated hand through his hair, Jack looks around the room again. If it weren't for the fact that they're locked in, it's pretty innocuous at first glance. A table and chairs and some sort of entertainment center nearest the door, a couch, three bunk beds on the far side of the room, partitioned off by curtains, and a simple bathroom in the corner. Pleasantly boring artwork on the walls, even, and rugs on the floors. Yes, it's a holding cell, but it's certainly not the worst one he's ever been in.

"Carter?" he swings towards her first. 

"They only took the weapons, sir. All of our other supplies are here - even food and the med kit, though they took the syringes and the scissors along with all of the knives." She fastens the last pack shut again, puts it in with the others. "Weapons, sharps, our vests. They didn't take the tech - we've got the GDO, and the radios."

"Don't forget my hat," Jack complains, raking through his hair again. She just grimaces at him, so he turns to their other teammate. "Teal'c?"

"There has been at least one guard stationed outside the door since we arrived," Teal'c says, putting his hands behind his back and standing off to the side as if there's absolutely nothing wrong. "I do not see any other way out of this room except through the door we entered. The guards were not heavily armed, but they do seem to have some technology unlike or more advanced than our own."

"Can we fight our way out?"

"Jack!" Daniel objects.

He doesn't even bother to look around, just snaps his fingers and points at the couch. "You sit down and be quiet."

"I do not think it would be an advisable course of action," Teal'c says, glancing over at Daniel before looking back to Jack. "They did not yet seem overly hostile."

"They're not hostile," Daniel has, of course, not moved a muscle towards sitting, and Jack's fragile hold of his temper is starting to fray. 

"Well they certainly weren't before your little adventure," he retorts. "Remind me, what was the one thing our hosts asked us not to do?" That does what none of Jack's direct commands have managed to do, and Daniel shuts up, suddenly finding the floor beneath his feet very interesting. "Oh, you don't remember? Carter, I'm sure you do, remind us?"

She takes it as the command it is, despite his polite phrasing, the resentful look flashed his way the closest she'd ever get to arguing with such a simple direct order from her commanding officer. "Not to interact with any of the children without a caretaker present," she supplies quietly, not looking at Daniel. A small part of him wants to feel bad for pitting them against each other, even in such a minor way, but he's still too mad for it to take real hold. Besides, Daniel won't blame Carter, not for more than a couple of seconds. For all of his bucking against the restraints of military command, he rarely begrudges Sam her easy relationship with it, and he is good about assigning blame to Jack for the orders he gives, even if someone else physically carries them out. 

"Was that too confusing for you, Daniel?"

"I didn't mean to be alone with them!" the archaeologist protests. "They were supposed to bring their adult with them, and when I realized they didn't we were already there!"

"It's almost," he says sarcastically, "like I anticipated situations like that, when I gave you the ORDER NOT TO GO OFF ON YOUR OWN!" 

Daniel's eyes go wide at the word 'order'; Jack watches in real time as he starts to realize how much trouble he's really in, and he stops talking, deflating in front of them. He doesn't take his eyes off of Daniel, but he's just as aware of the rest of the team - Carter had snapped nearly to perfect attention when he started yelling, lips pressed firmly together and eyes focused off somewhere near the ceiling; Teal'c had been frowning at Daniel, but he shifts that frown to Jack when he raises his voice, one eyebrow going up.

Yeah, T, message received, and I know I shouldn't yell. Maybe you be in charge of him on one of these trips and see if you can resist the urge, he thinks grumpily, but the pause works, and he's not yelling when he speaks again, pointing at the couch. "Sit," he says tiredly. "And I suggest you think about how you're going to do exactly as I say for the rest of this mission."

--------

When they make it back to Earth, he wants nothing more than a hot shower, a beer, and a hockey game: in that exact order. The very last thing he wants to do is navigate the minefield that is sure to be holding Daniel accountable for his actions off-world, but he knows it won't do either of them any favors to wait. The kid's already oozing such misery and anxiety, you'd think Jack had already spanked him and promised more when they got back. 

He does at least get the hot shower. On a low-risk mission like this one, with no close calls, they head to the showers before the infirmary. His check in with Janet is surprisingly fast; it helps that once Daniel was appropriately subdued and apologetic, the people of the planet had been a fairly easy sell of 'it was an accident, won't happen again', and SG-1 hadn't even missed their scheduled Gate time. The worst they'd gotten was a long diplomatic scolding, and the firm suggestion that when they came back, Jack kept a better eye on his team. But the exam is quick and routine, this time around.

With or without the stranger's somewhat judgmental suggestion, he intends to keep a better eye - amongst other things - on this particular teammate. He props himself up at the edge of the med bay Daniel's in, waiting for Janet to finish. She gives Daniel a friendly pat on the knee, saying, "Okay Daniel, everything looks fine. You're due an allergy shot in the next couple days, though, so make sure you stop back in."

"Yes, Janet," Daniel smiles crookedly at her, but it fades pretty quickly when he looks over at Jack. Which Jack hates, but he would hate it more if the kid got himself killed with this nonsense, so he hardens his heart to get through the next unpleasant few hours. With luck, or the blessing of any God there might be, it will go better than last time and Daniel won't hate him afterward. 

"Colonel," Janet greets him as she walks past, mind already on her next task. He gives her a brief smile and a nod, but mostly keeps his gaze on Daniel, who is ever so slowly pulling his shirt back on and then even more slowly, if possible, walking towards Jack.

"What if I said I was sorry?" Daniel tries.

"You should probably save it for later," Jack isn't unsympathetic, but he's also not willing to be talked around. Daniel gives a little shrug, that seems to say it was worth a try. "I'm going to give you a choice," he offers, though he keeps his voice pitched intentionally low; this is just for his ears and Daniel's. "We can go find a private place to take care of it here, or you can come home with me and we'll take care of it there."

Daniel frowns. "Will that always be a choice?"

"No," Jack says honestly. "Sometimes, circumstances and timing and going to make the decision. Sometimes I might decide for you. But this time, I want you to feel as safe as possible, so how are we going to make that happen?" 

"If we go to your place..." Daniel chews on it for a minute before he can spit it out, but Jack lets him have whatever time he needs. He was serious - neither one of them are going to enjoy this. but he's determined that it be as safe and - well, 'good' is not the right word here, but he's not sure what the right word is - experience as possible. "Can I stay? After?"

"Yes," Jack reaches out, taps his chin to make sure he has his complete attention. "You can always stay, Daniel. No matter what. You could quit the program tomorrow, and still come stay whenever you needed. Okay?"

"Okay," he answers, worry lines still etched between his eyebrows, and Jack thinks that's something he'll just have to prove to him over time. Now, just to ensure they have time. "Um, your place then."

--------

The drive is quiet, but it's a different quiet than the last time. Daniel's anxious, but he's not scared. It's a good difference. Jack unlocks the front door and herds him inside, considering. Normally, his first choice would be to power through and just get done, but that hadn't worked out so great last time. He doesn't want to draw it out for no reason, but he needs to strike that balance not to rush Daniel and miss a cue that he's gone too far or done something wrong, because based on the past two weeks, he's not sure Daniel will have the words to tell him. 

"Go put your stuff in the bedroom and meet me in the living room," he gives the command in a firm voice, one that doesn't leave room for Daniel to ask a lot of questions. "You might want to go ahead and put on your sweats or pajamas."

Another luxury they won't always have, like taking care of it at home, but he has a sneaking suspicion that Daniel's going to crash pretty hard when they're finished. To his relief, he doesn't get any arguments from his troublemaker - just a lingering nervous look, and then Daniel pads off down the hallway to do what he was told. Jack follows, heading further down the hall into his own room to quickly change into a pair of sweats and an old Air Force t-shirt, and ducking into the bathroom to relieve himself. Washes his hands, dries them, and then he's about to flip the lights off and head back out when he pauses, and opens a drawer slowly. 

He takes out the hairbrush lying in the drawer slowly and considers it. He checks the flat surface for any sign of cracking or splintering, and finding none, brings it down against his thigh in a testing swat that has him wincing even through his sweats. Yeah, that's just as effective as he vaguely remembers from the Academy. 

He might not need it. With the way Daniel has built this up in his mind, and his sliver of experience, Jack's hand might be enough. Still, better prepared than unprepared; he puts the brush into his pocket before he heads out to the living room. Despite his detour he's beaten Daniel, so he takes the opportunity to take a seat on the couch, moving the brush from his pocket to just behind his hip where he can reach it if he decides he needs it, but it won't be visible to the man he's about to put over his knee. After a moment's consideration, he slides the coffee table a little further away from the couch, and has just straightened when Daniel creeps in, arms wrapped around his middle in a classic self-hug. 

"C'mere," he says. Their eyes meet, and Daniel freezes across the room. Jack gives him about 30 seconds before he issues the firm command, "Come here."

"Jack, I won't do it again," Daniel says, in his peaceful negotiator voice, "I'm sorry, I've learned my lesson. We don't need to do this." He even has the pose down, chest open, eyes wide, head slightly tilted to show vulnerability.

Jack doesn't play into it. "You're in trouble because you chose not to follow orders in the field," he points out. "If you're sorry, you can start by showing me you know how to follow directions. Come. Here."

He's pouting, but he's moving, coming to stand just out of Jack's reach, eyes wide and impossibly blue, even in the low light of Jack's living room. Maybe they look extra blue because they're already slightly wet. Jack hardens his resolve. 

"Here's how this is going to go. You're going to pull down your pants, and I am going to put you over my knee. Then I'm going to pull your underwear down, and I am going to spank you." Daniel's eyes have gone even wider, and Jack's not sure he's breathing, but he's not worried about that, he hasn't met anyone yet who can hold their breath and get their butt paddled at the same time for very long. "You can cry and wiggle all you want. It's going to hurt, it's meant to, and your natural responses are fine. Keep the kicking to a minimum, so you don't hurt me or yourself, or I will make it so you can't kick. Don't swear at me, and no name-calling. Got it?"

"H-how many?"

"I'll know when we're done. You don't need to count."

Daniel opens his mouth, but it's with a look that precedes an argument, which Jack isn't willing to entertain right now. He makes a quick mental adjustment - Daniel is probably not going to pull his own pants down, and it's not worth the stalling this time. Ignoring the desperate babble that the kid is spewing, he reaches out and pulls his pants down past his knees in one quick tug, and then uses both hands to pull Daniel the last foot towards Jack, overbalancing him and tipping him over his lap before he can go anywhere, quickly wrapping his left arm around his waist to tug him snug against his hip. With his right hand, he slips his fingers into the waistband of Daniel's boxers and slides those down to join his pants. 

Over his lap, Daniel has frozen stiff, holding himself as tightly as he can. Jack spares a thought to wish he could see Daniel's face while he was doing this, but he'll just have to make do with body language and listening closely. Lifting his hand, he lands the first smack with medium strength and watches a pink spot appear briefly and then fade. He follows it with two dozen or so more of the same strength, spreading them evenly across Daniel's butt, until he's left a light pink blush all across what used to be a creamy surface. Only then does he pause, resting his cupped hand on one cheek. 

"I hope you are thinking about why we're in this position," he says to the back of Daniel's head, noting that there are two clenched fists to go with the tense body in his lap. "Believe it or not, this is the last thing I want to be doing right now, but I care about you too much to let you keep running wild over rules that are there to keep you safe." That hits home - Daniel flinches in his grasp, ducking his head further, and Jack can see the flush reach all the way to the back of his ears. 

Taking a better grip of his far hip, Jack shifts Daniel just a little bit forward and brings his hand down again, this time a little harder. He completes the same thorough circuit of the entire surface of Daniel's bottom, except this time he makes sure to catch the underside of each flushed cheek as well as the tops of Daniel's thighs; his hand is starting to sting and each swat leaves a distinct red mark now, that quickly start to fuse together to a bright pink color overall. 

About the time he's covering the same ground a third time, he both hears and feels Daniel have to take a big, gasping breath and that's the start of his composure crumbling. Each inhale has a little hitch to it now, and he grows heavier over Jack's legs as he stops holding himself stiffly apart. He starts to kick his legs a little, hesitant little flutters that Jack highly doubts Daniel is even consciously aware of. Satisfied that he might actually be listening now, he slows his swats, cupping his hand a little to make sure they still sound just as bad to keep Daniel's attention focused, without pushing too far too fast. 

"Do I have your attention, Daniel?"

"Y-yes!"

"Good. Tell me why we're here," 

The first response he gets is a whine, and a kick of one leg that was most definitely intentional. Glad Daniel can't see him smile fondly or roll his eyes, he rewards the show of temper by landing a series of much harder spanks: two to the reddest part of his cheeks, two to his sit-spots, and two to the tops of his thighs. Daniel cries out for the first time, yelping with each swat.

"I'd suggest with less attitude," he says pleasantly. "Or you will be a very sorry boy indeed before we are finished."

Lightening his spanks again, though not as much as before, he repeats his prompt. "Why are we here, Daniel?"

"I-I didn't f-follow your ord-ders," Daniel chokes out, starting to kick a little harder as the sting keeps building. "No more, please!"

Ignoring the plea, Jack follows up with, "Why do you need to follow orders?"

"'Cause you s-said," Daniel gasps. " 't's a rule!"

"It is a rule," Jack agrees, but that wasn't quite the answer he was looking for. Yes, he wants Daniel to follow his orders in the field but he needs him to admit something else, while he's here over his knee. "but why is it a rule?"

"I d-don't..." he hears the first sniffle, and Daniel's left hand has come around to tangle in Jack's shirt, while the other his grasping Jack's ankle like a lifeline. "I don't know!" he wails, and then promptly bursts into helpless tears. At that, Jack pauses, moving his spanking hand to rest just above his butt, fingers gently stroking. 

"Okay, Danny, it's okay, I will help you. Are you listening?"

A fervent nod through the tears, which he at least attempts to stifle, head tilted just far enough towards Jack that he can see most of one eye. 

"All the rules are about your safety and well-being. Remember?"

"Y-yeah," Daniel gulps. "You - you s-said you'd only give orders if t-they were important. 'for safety. Me 'n the team."

"Good," Jack says it warmly, but then forces his voice back to stern, and moves his hand from Daniel's back over to his upturned butt. It's red now, bright all over with patches of darker color. He aims carefully when he starts smacking again to even up that color. "Did you follow orders today, Daniel?"

"N-no," Daniel is gasping now, his voice wet and on the verge of tears, kicking as each swat lands but not enough to dislodge himself. "I'm s-sorry!"

"What are you going to do next time?"

"Listen! Owwww, please no m-more," Daniel lets go of his ankle and throws a hand back, but Jack catches it easily and pins it to the middle of his back. "J-jack, promise, I'm going to listen!" 

Jack doesn't want to do this again, and his gut says they aren't there yet. Close, but...he reaches around and picks up the brush with some reluctance, hefting it in his hand to get the feel of it. "I hope you're going to keep that promise," he says. "Ten more, and consider this a warning for if you don't."

He raises the brush and lands the first swat with it before Daniel can register the change; it leaves behind a bright, angry oval that does not fade, and Daniel inhales sharply. Jack brings the brush down a second time, leaving a matching oval on the other cheek, and Daniel lets the inhale go on a cry. He aims swat three and four slightly lower, and then five and six just below that, covering the fullest portion of each of the crimson globes in front of him. 

Daniel has finally dissolved into tears, his begging tapering off into honest and true remorse. Jack doesn't want to drag it out any longer, but he's also a man of his word. He lands the last four hairbrush swats resolutely, two to each of Daniel's sit-spots, and then tosses the brush away, freeing up his hand to start immediately rubbing long, even strokes up and down Daniel's back.

"We're done. You did so well, my brave Spacemonkey," the tears are still going unabated, but Daniel is leaning into his touch, not shying away from it, so Jack dares to hope everything is okay. "The slate's clean, all's forgiven. You wanna come up here?"

That gets him an enthusiastic nod, so Jack reaches down and slides his boxes up, as gently as he can over what he knows is a flaming rear, before levering him up off his lap. The younger man swings around faster than Jack is prepared for, throwing his arms around Jack. "I'm sorry!" he practically wails. Sliding backward on the couch to make more room for both of them, Jack wraps his arms tightly around the kid and holds tight, maneuvering them until Daniel collapses boneless against him. 

"I know," he soothes. "And it's over. You did the penance, it's a clean slate now, okay? Forgiven."

"P-promise?"

"I promise."