'Weathering Conditions', J/D drabble, PG

WEATHERING CONDITIONS

 

Snow fell, frosting his eyelashes, evaporating against the scalding heat of his cheeks.

 

Snow in the desert.

 

The top of his head cool; the heat of the sun emanating from the sands beneath his boots.

 

Winter-dark now; distant stars pinpricks of ice in a clear sky. Blinding, beautiful. Falling towards him, raining down on him.

 

The desert refused to give in to the night and the cold. His limbs were burning, his skin damp with sweat. He was suffocating in the cool, crisp air.

 

Daniel awoke, gasping, throwing back the covers.

 

The perils of sleeping with Jack O’Neill, human furnace.