"I don't like the drapes. Maybe plantation shutters?"

"Yeah, that could work. How 'bout those shelves? They're not nearly strong enough for all my stuff."

"I agree. They have got to go. I'll build you a new set, maybe floor to ceiling, side to side? Over there, maybe?"

"Perfect. And what's with the pygmy bed?"

"I understand the previous couple were more along the lines of Mutt and Jeff. I already ordered the new king. It'll be here tomorrow."

"I should hope so. One night in that thing and both our backs will require that chiropractor friend of--"

"Trust me, you'll be needing my friend for a whole 'nother reason."

"Promises, promises. And let's roll up this rug. It's going to give you nightmares."

"What the hell is it, anyway? A rug representation of vomit?"

"It's Chopec and basically represents a Shaman's dream walk. See? And over there, that's the--"

"Daniel, the stuff you know is stuff you shouldn't know. Or at least stuff you shouldn't pass on to me."

"You love my stuff and you know it."

"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU TWO?"

The irate voice came from the top of the basement stairs. Both Jack and Daniel moved sideways until they could see the speaker. They found themselves facing a tall man with a gun in his hand.

Jack immediately stepped in front of his friend, shielding him from danger. Daniel immediately shoved Jack aside, shot daggers at him, then said to the man at the head of the stairs, "We're peaceful travelers from Earth--"

"Daniel, this is Earth."

"Oh, right. Sorry, Jack. Ahem. Let me try again. I'm Doctor Daniel Jackson, and this is my partner and general pain in the ass, Colonel Jack O'Neill. We're moving in this weekend. Who are you?"

The tall good-looking man with the pale blue eyes took two steps down as another voice piped up from somewhere behind him. "Watch the steps, Jim, you remember what happened the last time -- with Lash."

"I can go down stairs, Sandburg. And these are our stairs."

"Excuse me? Your stairs? I don't think so," Jack O'Neill said as he slid his arm behind him and placed his hand on the gun he kept in a holster at his back. "I don't know who the hell you two are, but this, like the man said, is our new home."

"Well, Colonel, I'll tell you exactly who I am. I'm Detective James Ellison, Cascade Police Department, Major Crime. And behind me, shaking in his Nikes, is my partner, Blair Sandburg. Now allow me to repeat the fact that this is OUR home and we'd appreciate it if you'd amscray, aownay."

Jack looked over at his partner. "Amscray I got, but aownay?"

"'Now', Jack. He said, 'now'," Daniel helpfully provided.

"Oh. Scram now. I get it. Uhm, Mr. Ellison? Exactly where is your partner?"

"I'm right here," the cheerful voice piped up again. It was quickly followed by a head of long curly hair and finally the man himself. He punched Ellison in the arm as he said, "And I'm not shaking in anything, you doofus."

"Yeah, yeah, tell it to your Rabbi, Chief." Ellison waved the gun at the two men at the bottom of the stairs as he said, "Look you two, we're here at the invite of a fan, and you two are not. That means you're trespassing. I have the shield, the gun, the badge, and the support to make this request official. You guys want to leave the easy way, or the hard?"

During Jim's speech, Daniel had been easing his way forward, and now took two steps up as he craned his neck in an attempt to see the man still partially hidden by Ellison. With a grin, he finally said, "Blair, is that you? As in Blair Jacob Sandburg, the anthropologist? As in Blair Jacob Sandburg, the only person who believed my wild theories?"

The curly haired man shoved Ellison aside and took two steps down as he said, "Daniel? Daniel Jackson, the archaeologist? The only guy who believed my wild theories about sentinels? And the guy with the really great ass--- um, er--"

"Chief? Is there something you'd like to tell me?"

"Who me? No way, man. Daniel, is that really you?"

"Sure is, Blair. Small world, eh?"

"Very. How the hell are you?"

The two men continued toward each other, one going up as the other came down. They met in the middle and immediately hugged. Ellison shook his head and looked down at the Air Force colonel as he said with disgust, "Now see, that's something they never let us do on our show. Hug. In fact, they cut a couple of them out."

"You're kidding?" Jack said, shocked. "Hell, I've been able to hug Daniel, what, two, three times? Right, Daniel?"

Blair and Daniel were still hugging.

Jack frowned. "Daniel? Right? Two hugs?"

"Sandburg?" Jim tried to get his partner's attention. "Sandburg, you there? And you'd better tell me that ISN'T your hand on Jackson's ass."

Jackson and Sandburg jumped apart. Blair gazed back up at his partner and said, "Of course it wasn't. You're seeing things, Jim. Now get down here and let's try to figure out what's going on, and if our benefactress has finally flipped her lid."

Grudgingly, Jim holstered his gun and joined Sandburg and Jackson, then all three joined O'Neill. As Jim led them to the couch, O'Neill said, "Ex-military, by any chance?"

"Yeah, Rangers. Covert Ops."

"Been there, done that. Black Ops," O'Neill volunteered. "We probably crossed paths more than a few times."

"Doubtful. I was mostly stationed in South America."

"Ah. Middle East for me. Some European action."

Daniel cocked his head. "You two done making love now? Can we get down to business?"

"Maybe a beer?" Blair offered. "To help us all... unwind?"

"You got wine, Blair?" Daniel asked hopefully.

"Nah, our hostess keeps that upstairs. We're macho beer drinkers, Daniel."

"Hey, you used to drink wine," Daniel said.

"Yeah, well that was before I threw in with a big gorgeous cop. Now it's beer all the way."

"Hey, you never gave up your wine for me, Daniel. I think I'm hurt," Jack pouted.

Blair screwed up his face. "Oh pul-leeeeze, do NOT pout. No way can you top Daniel in that department and it's a disgrace to even try."

"Me? What about you, Blair 'Puppy Dog Eyes' Sandburg? Blair 'My Lower Lip Can Tremble With The Best Of Them' Sandburg?"

"He's got you there, Chief. And O'Neill, I'd appreciate it if you'd quit the pouting. You're making me physically ill. It's just not you."

Jack stopped pouting as his gaze moved to Blair's lower lip. He blinked a few times, and kept right on looking -- until Daniel stepped in front of him, effectively blocking his view.

"Jack? Whatcha looking at?"

"Uh? Me? Oh. Nothing. Just... nothing."

Daniel rolled his eyes.

"Look, this is fun and all," Jim said, "but we have a major problem that needs an immediate resolution. Preferably before bedtime."

"Jim, I think I know what's going on."

Ellison turned to his partner. "Oh? Care to share?"

"My God, he sounds just like you, Jack," Daniel observed, his eyes raking over the long legs, broad shoulders and impeccable pecs.

"Daniel, the kid thinks he knows what's up, so let him talk, okay?"

"The kid? THE KID?" Daniel and Blair said simultaneously.

Jack and Jim rolled their eyes.

Blair held up his hands. "Okay, okay, never mind. I'll be the kid. I am the youngest one here."

Daniel's eyebrows danced over the rim of his glasses as he said, "Well, to be accurate, I'm a year younger than you, Blair. For some strange reason, the writers made me four or five years older on the show. Weird."

"Really? Man, I'm actually my own age on our show. But you'll never believe what they did with Jim's age. Of course, between you, me and the lamp over there, I've always suspected that Jim had the writers change his age so he'd be younger than his real age. I mean, in reality, the guy is eleven years older than me--"

"Tell me about it, Blair. This guy," Daniel jerked a thumb in Jack's direction, "is like, twenty years older than me, you know? But on the show, maybe ten. He actually tried to pass himself off as 40 at one point."

"Gee, Daniel, our age difference didn't seem to bother you last night when my dick was shoved half-way down your throat."

Daniel patted Jack on the top of his head. "Down, Jack. Good boy."

"Look, this is really fascinating, but Chief, do you think you could get back to what's going on?"

"Oh, yeah, right. Well, see, I think what we have is a case of," he looked around cautiously, then whispered, "multi-fandom syndrome."

"Excuse me?" all three men said together.

"Multi-fandom syndrome. I understand the same thing is happening to Mulder and Krychek. They've been ousted by Lex and Clark. And poor Starsky and Hutch? We're talking Fraser and Ray - both of them. Hell, nobody even remembers Kirk and Spock, and they started it all!"

"Chief, are you saying that we've been replaced by these two? That our hostess has abandoned us? AND kicked us out of our home?"

"Hey, Jim, it happens. New shows pop up all the time, and we're only in reruns. There's a big move toward movies too. Can we say "Padawan"? And how 'bout some pirate with dirty teeth? And then there's my personal fave - Aragorn and Legolas."

"Excuse me?" Jack interrupted. "Aragorn and Legolas? I don't think so. Try Elrond and Legolas. And we all know that Frodo and Sam were doing the dirty."

Three pairs of blue eyes pinned Jack to the wall. He held out his arms and said, "What? You don't think Frodo and Sam were doing it? And how about Pippin and Merry?"

"Pippin and Merry? No way," Blair said. "Just... no way. They're just good friends. How could you have seen the movie and not noticed the electricity flying between Pippin and Faramir? Sheesh."

"Hey, I don't give a flying fuck about Pippin and Faramir, or who's doing whom on television as long as I get MY bed, with MY partner in it," Jim said rather ferociously.

"Hey, what's going on down there?"

All four men turned to face the top of the stairs and the woman who stood framed by the surreal glow of the kitchen light. In her arms, she carried a small apricot poodle whose small black nose could be seen sniffing madly.

"Hey, there you are. We were just talking about you. We seem to have a small problem down here. Maybe you could clarify a few things for us?" Blair asked.

The slender, five foot nine redhead with alabaster skin -- and perfect nails -- descended gracefully. At the bottom, her lavender eyes widened. "Jack? Daniel? What the hell are you two doing down here?"

The two men in question looked at each other, grimaced, then said, "Uh-oh."

"You're early, the new renovations haven't even been started yet. Jack, my email was very clear. You guys weren't supposed to arrive for another two weeks, now you're going to have to go back to Sam's until the new add-on has been... you know ... added on."

"But... but... Sam has a new boyfriend," Daniel whined. "She's asked him to move in with her so now there's no room for us!"

"Oh, really? Well, I hear he's going to be gone next season and things heat up between... wait, you two don't need to hear that now, it'll just give you indigestion." The beautiful redhead looked over at Jim and Blair and said, "They're about to have a rough time of it, guys. How 'bout letting them bunk in here during the renovations? There's plenty of room, especially if I store the pool table and we close in the space. It'll make a perfect temporary bedroom--"

Jim held up a hand. "Wait, wait. We're supposed to give up our privacy because these two are going to have a 'rough' time of it? What about Sandburg and I? We're all but forgotten and to add insult to injury, our show won't even be in reruns on SciFi in two weeks." He turned away. "No, no, just ... no. It's not right." He lowered his head into his hands.

Blair scrunched up his face, gave a little shake of his head, and said, "Jim, it's far too late for an Emmy now, so cut it out. And let's face it, this place is huge even without any renovations. There's plenty of room, and I've been reading the gossip rags too and she's right. These two have a real upward climb ahead of them."

Jim lifted his head and looked at his partner, his expression one of exaggerated woe. "Upward climb, Chief? At least they're still on the air and there's still talk of a movie. What did we get? Nothing, I tell, you, nothing. It's a cruel world out there and it's just too much to expect us to give up what little we have now. I say NO."

"Wow, Blair, he's really good. He did that scene way better than Jack would have."

Looking smug, Blair rose on his toes and said, "It was good, wasn't it?"

Jim turned around, a huge grin on his face. "I've still got it, don't I, Chief?"

"Oh, yeah, Jim," Blair said as he moved up behind him and patted his butt. "You've still got it, all right."

"So I should have the guys come and pick up the pool table?" the melodious voice from the stairs asked with a beautiful smile.

"Sure, sure," Jim said. "Why not. Sandburg's right, there's plenty of room."

"Good, good. I'll send for them now. You boys behave yourselves now, hear?" With that, she turned, walked back upstairs and out, closing the door behind her.

"Well, that was interesting," Jack remarked, scratching his head.

"Don't let her bother you, she's really cool. Takes good care of us and we want for nothing, believe me."

"Yeah," Sandburg agreed. "She keeps us in lube and condoms like nobody's business. And Lucy--"

"Lucy?" Jack asked, puzzled.

"The dog," Jim sniffed. "She's a sweetie, but drives my senses nuts so she keeps her upstairs. Sandburg goes up and plays with her though--"

"That would be the dog, btw. I don't play with--"

"I think they figured that out, Sandburg. O'Neill's been around the block a few times, and Jackson's a certified genius--"

"Okay, okay, enough with the dog and geniuses, can we get down to brass tacks and living space?" O'Neill said, his impatience obvious. "We've been on the road for quite awhile and speaking for myself, I'm kind of," he shot a pointed look at Daniel, "anxious to hit the sack."

"Could you be any more obvious, Jack?" Daniel said tersely.

"I don't know, Daniel, he was pretty obvious to me," Sandburg offered helpfully.

"Hellllo? Anyone down there? We're here to pick up a," there was the rustle of papers, "a ... pool table?"

"Wow, talk about fast work, " Jim said as he moved to the stairs. "Down here, guys."

A moment later, two men appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

"Bodie?" Jack said, shocked.

"If it isn't Jack O'Neill, as I live and breathe. How long's it been, mate?"

Jim and Blair looked at each other, both with raised eyebrows, then Jim said, "You know this guy, O'Neill?"

"Oh, yeah. Worked on a case with him many - many --- moons ago."

"This is my partner, Ray Doyle--"

"Hey, aren't you Blair Sandburg?" the man just identified as Doyle, asked.

"Yeah, do I know you?"

"No, but I know your mother, Naomi--"

"Why am I not surprised, Chief?"

"Jim, for the sake of our sex life, don't go there."

"Right."

"So how do you know my mother?"

"Chief, should you be asking--"

"Jim...."

"Right."

"Your mother and I--"

"Ray, do I want to hear this?"

"I did have a life before you, Bodie."

"Yeah, but we have an agreement - we don't talk about it."

"Why are we allowed to talk about your racy and less than... moral... history, but we can't talk about mine?"

Blair watched the two men and glanced over at Daniel, who smiled knowingly at him.

"Look," Jim interrupted, "this is nice and all, but we have a pool table that needs moving, okay?"

"Yeah, it's been nice, Bodie, but me and my partner need to get to bed, and right now, a certain pool table is in the way."

"Hey, Daniel, have you ever done it on a pool table?" Blair asked with a wink.

"A pool table? I don't think so... no, I'm sure not. Lots of other tables, but not--"

"Daniel, do you mind?" Jack whined.

"Oh, come on, Jack, don't be such a prude."

"This from a man who only just recently could handle stripping with a light on?"

Daniel rolled his eyes as Blair said, "Gee, that's not what I remember...."

"Okay, I've had it," Jim said. He pointed at the man called Bodie and said, "Pool table. Out. Now. 'Nuff said."

Bodie grabbed Doyle's arm and the two of them walked over to the table. Rubbing his chin, Doyle said, "We're going to have to take the legs off--"

"Nice of her to let us use it until the renovations are done," Bodie said as he began to work with Doyle to put the table on its side.

"Excuse me?" Jim asked. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh, we're staying with another fan, a friend of your hostess, and she said we could use this until the improvements are made here." He turned to Doyle. "BUT, no way is Clark going to practice any of his stupid super powers on it, all right?"

Doyle shrugged and said, "Not my fault, talk to the bald guy, okay?"

Jack, his patience running thin, took Daniel aside and said, "She has another bedroom, right?"

"Probably, but--"

"Come on, we're getting out of here, Daniel. I need to feel--"

"I know exactly what you need to feel, and I'm it." Licking his lips and batting his eyes, Daniel took Jack's hand and started upstairs.

Envious, Blair watched them go. He wouldn't mind some private time with Jim right about now. Of course, the sooner Bodie and Doyle got out of here....

"Jim, maybe we should, you know," he gave a suggestive wiggle of his head, "help them?"

"What? There's probably a good basketball and I ne--OW! What'd you do that for?"

"Jim?" Blair wiggled his hips this time.

"Oh. Right. Help them. Fast."

"You got it, Detective 'I'm not the brightest bulb in the box' Ellison."

Fifteen minutes later, the pool table, Bodie, and Doyle were gone. Peace reigned. If you didn't count the disgusting noises coming from the extra bedroom upstairs.

Jim rolled his eyes as Blair said, "Alone at last."

"Yeah, but for how long? This fandom business is getting to be too much, Chief. I mean, they come and go and we're left behind for newer, younger, prettier--"

"Prettier?"

"Okay, did I say prettier? Silly me. I mean... I mean...."

"I know what you mean. Hell, it won't be long before Gibbs and DiNozzo end up here."

"Sandburg, there is ABSOLUTELY NO slash there."

"I've heard that one before. Does 'Smarm' ring a bell?"

"Sandburg. Sex, now."

"I'm down with that."

The End

End Basement Mates

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