Title: Concurrence
Author: Bonster (e-mail some feedback)
Rating: MA
Summary: Written for the Jack/Daniel ficathon. Request: Beneath the Surface first-time (Jonah/Carlin fic) while they're trying to remember who they are.
Spoliers: Season 4's Beneath the Surface.
Disclaimer: This is strictly non-profit fan geekery, and no infringment is intended.

"Jonah!"

Jonah sighed. Carlin had been following him around ever since that damned Tor got nightsick. And it had only gotten worse after Thera had joined in with her own theoretical whatevers. They were both at the very least delusional, if not nightsick, themselves.

He didn't mask the annoyance he felt. He rolled his eyes as he turned around and said, "Yes, Carlin?"

Carlin looked somewhat out of breath, but a little of that cockiness he constantly carried around was missing. "Jonah, if it's all true. If we did know each other well and were all on some sort of team..." He took a breath. "Then what we're doing here is slavery and we don't belong here."

Jonah mentally counted to five. Make that ten. He just wanted to forget this whole 'we don't belong here' thing, because it absolutely couldn't end up doing any good. Keeping his face blank, he carefully checked their surroundings. The hallway off of section eleven, a good and secluded spot. If anyone passed by and heard them talking like this, they could be taken for nightsick, and they wouldn't be able to serve any longer. He ignored the fleeting thought that that would actually come as a relief.

"All right. You made your point. We're just going to have to see what happens tomorrow. Dreams, memories, whatever should occur or something. Right?"

"Jonah," Carlin reached out and grabbed Jonah's arm. A tingling heat spread from where the man's fingers gripped him, and it settled in his stomach, strangely pleasant.

Apparently, Carlin felt something too, because he quickly removed his hand and looked away, frowning. "Sorry." His confused expression turned to one of surprise as he said the word. He turned bright eyes to Jonah.

Jonah looked into those eyes. Maybe he felt some kind of recognition, maybe not. He pushed it away fast though. "Carlin, it's nearly lights out. We can't just yak it up here all night." He turned back to head toward the bunks, when he heard Carlin's chuckle. Turning back, he frowned. "What?"

"Yak it up? Is that just another expression?"

Jonah huffed slightly. He knew there had to be a reason he said certain things, and that reason had to be that he heard them from around the mines. Had to be. No other explanation.

Carlin bit his lower lip, which made him look somehow inviting. "Sorry. Again."

Jonah was about to reply when Thera came from behind the corner. She smiled when she saw him and beamed toward Carlin as well. Maybe she was feeling that they were doing, at the very least, something and therefore things were good in her world. Jonah didn't feel that way, especially when he looked at the man beside him. Who was looking back.

That night Jonah had a strange dream. A circle in a gray room. The circle had symbols and lights around the edges of it. Then the middle of it seemed to explode outward and then faded back into a shimmering pool.

This must be the pool of light Carlin was talking about, he thought. He took a step backward, only to be held back by the hand suddenly holding his shoulder.

"You should step through."

He turned toward the hand and came face to face with Carlin. Only it wasn't Carlin. This man had some kind of plastic in front of his eyes and was wearing some sort of uniform. The man's name floated around his mind, part of the memories he knew he shouldn't have.

"Daniel."

Jonah woke, a name on his lips, a name that was already sliding back into his subconscious. He looked around at the other sleeping workers. Far across the room was Carlin's bunk. He too was awake. Their eyes met and something inside him seemed to break and come together all at once. Recognition of...something.

Whatever thoughts and memories the others had, he apparently had them too. He nodded to the other man and laid back down, thoughts keeping him awake until it was time for his shift the next morning.

During his shift he kept one eye on the work and the other on Carlin, which wasn't difficult, as the man was blatantly making himself available for viewing by doing not only his job, but several others as well. He was shoveling ore, transferring sheets of metal to different parts of the section, volunteering to bring water around to the workers, and more. After he allowed Jonah his drink, his face took on a mischievous look. Setting the water pail down, he raised his vest to his face to wipe off -- more like smear around, Jonah thought -- the sweat and grime on his face.

Jonah couldn't keep his eyes from wandering down to the sweat-covered skin and well-muscled abdomen under the vest. He gulped, raising his eyes to meet Carlin's knowing ones.

The man leaned forward. "It is my honor to serve."

Backing away, Jonah dropped the wrench he had been using to tighten a loose valve. It fell with a clatter causing several workers to look in his direction.

Before he could reprimand Carlin or apologize for the slowing of work to the others, Carlin stood close to him and said, "Section eleven." And walked on without looking back.

Jonah picked up the wrench, felt its weight in his hands and knew he wasn't dreaming. Since the entire situation began, Carlin had been there, within arm's reach. Something told him that if they were really other people and didn't belong here, it was probably going to be okay, because belonging somewhere with Carlin or whatever his name was, was not bad at all.

He dropped the wrench and headed for section eleven.

While rounding the corner of the section, an arm snaked around him and tugged him into a makeshift alcove between towering racks of various metals. A heavy torso leaned into his own. "I knew you'd come."

Then he felt a hot mouth on his and grabbed the man in front of him's vest. "Carlin," he said breathlessly, between wet lips and tongues intertwining. "I want this."

Carlin paused, looked at Jonah, who saw a sadness flicker behind the blue eyes. "I know," he said and lunged back into kissing and pressing himself hard against Jonah.

Their movements were frantic, a sense of desperation was working its way through Jonah's blood. They yanked the rough clothes this way and that and at last were standing skin to skin. Carlin held something in his hand and Jonah raised a curious eyebrow.

"Butter. From when Kegan worked the food line."

Jonah quickly nodded and began to mouth his way up the man's neck and jaw line. Returning to the lips, Jonah found that kissing the man in front of him made him feel something explosive and something fleeting all at once. When the other man's hand reached around his cock, slicking it up with care, he thought he was just that much closer to a springtime for their planet and a reprieve for the workers. And when he entered Carlin, who was making keening sounds and had his head passionately reared back, Jonah at last remembered who he was, who they both were, and it brought him over the edge.

"Daniel!" A bright burst of stars and colors flooded his vision, but he could still just make out the man beneath him and hear the name the man called.

"Jack..."

Jonah collapsed beside the man. Dan- Carlin. Looking down at their fingers, which had connected during the last heated few minutes, he felt the tiniest bit at peace and decided that if their 'other' lives had them somehow similarly entwined, maybe it would it would all work out. Just maybe.

The end.

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