Fic: Necking (Sam/Jack, PG, Valentines #12)

  • Jun. 5th, 2009 at 10:59 PM
pepper: Jack LEANING at Sam (Sam Jack leaning)
Title: Necking
Author: Pepper
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 1627
Summary: He'd nearly kissed her neck.
Season: One
Pairing(s): Sam/Jack
A/N: With thanks to [personal profile] holdouttrout, who gave me a deadline.

Valentines series:
1: Intruder Alert
2: Sweet, Cute, Tacky
3: Days Of Wine And Roses
4: Unprofessional
5: Etiquette
6: Four's Company
7: The Wrong Man
8: The Kirk Syndrome
9: White. Silk. Underwear.
10: Slow Evolution
11: Settling In
12: Necking

---

He'd nearly kissed her neck. )

---

TBC.
pepper: Jack LEANING at Sam (Sam Jack leaning)
Title: Settling In
Author: Pepper
Rating: G
Summary: Typical. It was absolutely typical of him.
Season: One
Pairing(s): Sam/Jack
A/N: Oh heck, I do write this about once a year, for [livejournal.com profile] shinysilvergrl's birthday – at this rate, it should be finished by 2022. Aaaaaaaaaaa. Happy birthday, [livejournal.com profile] shinysilvergrl!

Valentines series:
1: Intruder Alert
2: Sweet, Cute, Tacky
3: Days Of Wine And Roses
4: Unprofessional
5: Etiquette
6: Four's Company
7: The Wrong Man
8: The Kirk Syndrome
9: White. Silk. Underwear.
10: Slow Evolution
11: Settling In
12: Necking

Will make no sense without reading those others first, but if this is a new story to you and you're thinking of reading it, a warning: I've been writing this since about when I started in the fandom. I have a serious problem with WIPs. I am truly sorry about that.

---

She took a look inside, and found he was already there, feet propped up on the furniture, hands carelessly fiddling with something terribly breakable. )

---

TBC!

Fic: Slow Evolution (Valentines #10)

  • Jun. 6th, 2007 at 2:09 PM
pepper: Pepperpot (Default)
Title: Slow Evolution (#10 in the increasingly inaccurately-named 'Valentines' series)
Author: Pepper
Rating: PG
Summary: Daniel has his say.
Season: One
Related SG-1 Episode(s): 109 Thor's Hammer, 110 The Torment of Tantalus
Pairing(s): Sam/Jack
A/N: [livejournal.com profile] shinysilvergrl prompted me that I hadn't written this series in, er, a very long time. This is effectively a chapter of an ongoing story, and doesn't work as a stand-alone. It follows directly on from the previous one (and if anyone is still wondering what Three Little Words Sam said in that one, the clue is in the title. *g*). This one is mainly Daniel. The fact that it's several times longer than the other chapters is totally his fault.
 
With much thanks and smooches to [livejournal.com profile] vickyocean and [livejournal.com profile] surrealphantast, for their very kind (and swift!) beta-ing. The fact that the military stuff now makes sense is entirely due to them. I owe you many biscuits, ladies.
 
Warning: This series is a WIP. What's worse, I honestly don't know when it will be finished. But I do have plans, and I do have two more chapters/stories (some of them are more stand-alone than others) in a state of semi-writtenness, so all is not lost...
 
Oh, and belated happy birthday, [livejournal.com profile] shinysilvergrl!
 
---

Fic: White. Silk. Underwear. (Valentines #9)

  • Feb. 18th, 2007 at 10:56 AM
pepper: Pepperpot (Default)
Title: White. Silk. Underwear.
Author: Pepper
Rating: PG
Summary: 'You've been staring at me the whole time. Did you really think I'd get flustered that easily?'
Season: One
Featured Character(s): Sam, Jack
Pairing(s): Sam/Jack
A/N: They wore Dress Blues for a briefing in the very first episode. I haven't checked when they stopped doing that – it was probably straight away - but for the convenience of this story, I'm pretending it went on for a little while. It's not important, I just... liked it that way.
 
Lastly, me know nothing about shooting guns, except what I've seen on film / TV, and what I've researched on the 'Net. So, sorry if it's a little screwy in that area.
---
 
Jack didn't 'do' gazing, so he wasn't gazing at Sam. )
 
She was loading the magazine by hand, strength and grace in her long, slim fingers. Every movement was precise and swift. She looked... well, 'perfect' was the word that sprang immediately to mind – an odd, cold sort of perfection in her Dress Blues and flawless make-up, softened only by the fact that she'd undone the restrictive jacket. Jack kept meaning to speak to Hammond about relaxing the dress code for briefings, but then he'd see Sam dressed to the nines, and just... forget.
 
Aside from her obvious beauty, there was a lot he admired about the young captain. She was blindingly intelligent – he'd happily claim that his 2IC was smarter than anyone else on the base. Somehow, she also managed to be a damn good soldier, a fast and cunning fighter, and a marksman to rival him – and he had no false modesty about his own abilities. She would make a good Major someday soon – he'd already begun tentative discussions with Hammond about that, double-checking himself for scrupulous fairness all the way. He had no doubt she could and would progress further up that ladder, given time and some command experience. She was so very young. Much younger than him, which he refused to find depressing on the grounds that he had no legitimate reason to care about the difference in their ages.
 
He wasn't going to think about the illegitimate reasons.
 
Sam hefted the gun to her shoulder, sighting down the long barrel. She tilted her head slightly, squinted, slowed her breathing, and relaxed her stance, dropping her shoulders. She stilled, but didn't hold her breath. Squeezed the trigger.
 
The shot slammed out of the gun, the explosive force of the round rocking her back slightly, but she held position and refocused her aim, took a second shot, and then a third. Then, satisfied with what she saw, she lifted her head and lowered the weapon. Jack didn't need to look at the target to know she'd hit it exactly where she wanted. It was all there in her face.
 
"Are you trying to unnerve me?" she asked, without looking at him.
 
Jack blinked. "I'm sorry?"
 
She glanced at him, and her chin tilted up challengingly. "You've been staring at me the whole time. Did you really think I'd get flustered that easily?"
 
He noted the lack of her usual 'sir'. She was in a mood to tangle. He'd not experienced that often from her, subsumed as it was beneath her 'perfect officer' image – but lately she'd been allowing her inner fire to flare up in his presence, and – very occasionally – in his direction. She was more confident at showing that side of herself to her fellow scientists, but it was rare that she kicked against her military superiors. She was learning, he liked to think, from his attitude towards his own superiors. She was learning to take command.
 
"Everyone has their weak spots," was all he said, however.
 
"Well, being under scrutiny isn't one of mine." She nodded at the target, and he finally turned to look at it as she pressed the button that drew the paper closer. She took it down, and held it up to the light.
 
"Apparently not," he said, admiringly. Three shots, neatly grouped at the centre of the target. Sam Carter was always a perfectionist. He gave her a sideways glance. Strong, intelligent, beautiful... lethal.
 
Yowza.
 
Okay, this was way too dangerous to be thinking. He took up his own gun, trying to focus on something neutral: the target ahead.
 
"What about you?" she asked.
 
"Hmm?"
 
"What's your Achilles' Heel?"
 
He allowed himself a brief, humorless smile. He'd been famed, at the Academy, for not allowing anything to distract him from his mission, his target. Loud noises, insults, touching – anything his fellow students had thought of, he'd tuned out. "That's for me to know, Captain," he said. He glanced at her, and saw to his discomfort that she'd narrowed her eyes, and was regarding him with all the cold thoughtfulness she gave to a new piece of alien technology.
 
He really, really hoped she never turned to the Dark Side. They'd all be doomed.
 
She leaned back casually against the wall, and crossed her legs at the ankle. Involuntarily, his eyes drifted down to those long legs, visible under her Dress Blues skirt. Hose? Dear god, perhaps there was a garter... He dragged his inappropriate gaze up quickly, and realized he'd been caught. For a second, he wondered if she was going to kick his ass. Then she gave him an almost-smile, her eyes glinting devilishly.
 
"Bet I can distract you."
 
Jack tipped an eyebrow at her. "Mom always told me not to let pride make my promises," he told her. She smiled briefly, and stayed silent.
 
He wasn't an insecure man. He had a lifetime of training and of experience to call upon, and he'd always been naturally confident – "independent and self-assured," his school reports had read, meaning "we can't get him to do a damn thing he doesn't want to do." But there was something about that silent, steady regard that worried him.
 
A big part of him was hoping she planned to play dirty.
 
"Three rounds," she said at last. "In the centre circle. If you lose..." She trailed off, contemplating possible punishments. It was damn sexy.
 
"I'll cook you dinner." Apparently, the part of his brain that did care about things like the difference in their ages had temporarily gained control of his tongue. "Tonight." And it wasn't letting go. Fortunately, it hadn't come out with some of the more... wildly inappropriate ideas for forfeits that had flashed luridly across his inner movie screen. It seemed he hadn't quite lost his last shreds of common sense where she was concerned.
 
Yet, anyway.
 
She looked surprised, but she'd never backed down from a dare, to his sure and certain knowledge. "Okay," she said. "And if you win, I'll cook you dinner."
 
"If I win?"
 
Her eyes flashed – in the metaphorical, not the Goa'uld, sense. "I can cook some things," she said, irritably. "I make a mean soufflé." At his look, she shrugged. "It was a challenge," she explained, succinctly.
 
He looked at her, carefully concealing his surprise. She was definitely more relaxed around him these days – noticeably so. Ever since the cake incident on Argos, in fact. He'd expected the opposite: he'd thought, as he struggled with the returning memories and the godawful post-drug hangover, that his clearly unprofessional attitude and conduct towards her would have been too much, and sent her running in the opposite direction. He had been under the influence of an aphrodisiac, of course, and that was as good an excuse as any to ignore anything he'd said or done - but it wasn't like he'd been trying to kiss Teal'c, or Daniel, or whatsername, the girl he'd accidentally married.
 
But she most definitely had not run. Somehow, his enforced loss of inhibitions and consequent behavior had upped the ante. She no longer just looked through her eyelashes, concealed smiles at his lame-ass jokes, and sat next to him at any given opportunity (don't think he hadn't noticed). Oh, no. She was still meticulously careful – they both were – around other SGC personnel, but when they were out of range of military eyes and cameras, on missions or off-base, she'd started seriously flirting with him. And, god help him, he loved it. Agreeing to have dinner, alone, just the two of them, at one of their houses, though... Well.
 
They had come to a silent agreement to keep it relatively toned-down around Teal'c and Daniel, but it was an open secret on the team. There was a certain amount of 'Well, I'm going to go looking at those rocks/hieroglyphs/artifacts/ancient whatevers - Teal'c, you coming?' going on. Although it was meant in the kindest way, it was the one aspect of this situation that made Jack uneasy. He'd resolved to deal with it as soon as possible – he didn't want the team to suffer, or – god forbid – be endangered by this... whatever it was called.
 
He was staring, he realized. And she was looking smug. She so thought she was going to win this. Privately, he admitted to himself that, if anyone was going to distract him, it'd be Sam Carter. She had got that whole 'genius' thing going, after all.
 
"I've never tried soufflé," he remarked, casually. "I'll enjoy that."
 
"You'd better not be planning to barbeque," she retorted. "I've seen the cooking equipment in your kitchen, so I'm sure you can do better."
 
He grimaced. Busted. It was true: he could cook. It was all Sara's fault. She'd refused to be the only one responsible for family meals when he was home and perfectly capable of wielding a spatula. He still only cooked a few things, tending towards simple, filling, and involving beer in some capacity, but he prided himself on the fact that the things he did, he did well. "I guess you'll never know."
 
She stayed silent. When he looked her way, she was grinning slightly. "You're all talk," she said softly, adding an insubordinately late, "sir."
 
This was dangerous territory. A date by any other name was still as sweet – and as court-martiallable. Even if nothing happened – and nothing was going to happen, he told himself sternly – Hammond wouldn't be pleased, if he found out. But, right now, he didn't really give a damn.
 
"Game on, Sam."
 
Jack took a comfortable stance and leveled his gun at the target in front of him. Distracting though his 2IC certainly was, she hadn't seemed to grasp that Jack worked better under pressure. It made his mind come alive – every thought seemed sharper, more focused – it was the main reason for his not-so-illustrious career in Black Ops. He was confident that, no matter what she did, it would only make him focus harder on winning this competition.
 
He sighted down the gun, tilting his head slightly, aware but paying no attention as Sam moved closer. She was practically leaning into his side, not actually touching – shoving him as he shot would be an unsportsmanlike way of winning, and Sam didn't do unsportsmanlike. She was tall, her nose on a level with his chin, and a fleeting picture of what it would be like to have her nuzzling closer zipped through his head.
 
He narrowed his eyes, and took a shot. Centre. She'd have to do better than snuggling.
 
He refocused. Sam leaned against him, and he braced himself against her slight weight. Again, she wasn't jostling him – simply trying to ruin his shot through other means. He could smell her, now; an alluring scent made up of some sort of fresh, slightly apple-y perfume, soap, gun oil, and warm Carter skin. She smelled delicious. He could feel her breath brush his ear. She'd probably taste fantastic...
 
He realized he'd become distracted, and ruthlessly refocused. Two more to go. Ignoring the warm, soft, scented woman pressed into his side, he took another shot. Dead centre, closer than before. Damn, he was good.
 
Sam shifted slightly, and he heard the rasp of her hose. He swallowed, and refocused his aim. One shot to win. She lifted up slightly, and he braced himself mentally for a kiss on the cheek, or something along those lines – simultaneously determined to remember every sensation, and determined not to let it distract him. She leaned into his ear. Jack's finger tightened on the trigger. And she whispered three small words.
 
Jack fired.
 
Jack cursed.
 
His eyes had defocused momentarily when she spoke, and his gun arm had twitched. He hadn't been ready, and the shot was wide of the target by a good couple of inches. She stepped away, and he turned to glare at her.
 
"That wasn't fair!"
 
She grinned smugly. "I said I'd distract you," she countered. "You lost, fair and square."
 
His eyes drifted downwards speculatively. Had she been telling the truth? No, not under that shirt - but maybe she meant this evening... Then he realized that he was doing it again, dammit, and dragged his gaze up to her face. Damn, she was dangerous. Sam just looked more smug.
 
Well, hell. Looked like he'd be cooking dinner for her, after all.
 
This should be interesting.
 
 ---

TBC

 

Fic: The Kirk Syndrome (Valentines #8)

  • Feb. 17th, 2007 at 10:47 AM
pepper: Pepperpot (Default)
Title: The Kirk Syndrome
Rating: PG
Summary: "Oh, for cryin' out loud! Who gets married by cake?"
Season: One
Related SG-1 Episode(s): 108 Brief Candle
Featured Character(s): Jack, Sam, Daniel, Teal'c
Pairing(s): Sam/Jack
A/N: We all know what the fishing thing is about, but has anyone guessed the true significance of the cake thing? Eighth in the increasingly inaccurately-named 'Valentines' series - which headed off AU when I wasn't looking.
---
 
The members of SG-1 sat beside the fountain... )
 
"Do things feel a little... off here?" asked Jack, suspiciously.
 
Sam was about to agree heartily – the mother had just given birth, for heaven's sake, and she was up and around as though it had been merely a minor nuisance. Daniel butted in before she could make her observations. "Are you crazy?" he asked incredulously. "It's a paradise!"
 
Jack gave him a sideways look. "Sure, have an apple, what could happen?"
 
Sam smiled to herself. At least her commanding officer wasn't taken in by the beauty all around him. Speaking of which... the young woman slinked across the little square, headed straight for Jack. She held out a dish to him, completely ignoring the other members of the team. "I am Kynthia. Welcome to our village."
 
Jack smiled at her. Sam's eyes narrowed further - she was already aware of his weakness for cake. "Thank you. Jack O'Neill." He reached for a piece of cake, and bit into it. His eyes widened with pleasure.
 
"Is it pleasing?" asked Kynthia.
 
"Very," said Jack, through a mouthful. He crammed the rest of the piece into his mouth, in typical Jack O'Neill fashion, and reached for a second piece. Suddenly, either remembering the manners his mother had tried to teach him, or feeling the glare Sam was giving him, he turned to her. "Uh, you should have some," he said, his expression conciliatory.
 
Sam opened her mouth, but Kynthia beat her to it. "It is only for you," she told Jack, firmly.
 
Sam's mouth snapped shut, and she glared at the young woman. She'd been about to refuse anyway, but that was just... rude.
 
"Only for me?" asked Jack, weakly, and took the dish she proffered. His eyes flicked to Sam, and back to Kynthia. "Um, thanks."
 
Kynthia departed, and Sam huffed in annoyance.
 
"'It is only for you,'" Daniel teased.
 
"I think you have a fan, Colonel," said Sam, smiling through her teeth. Jack opened his mouth to protest.
 
I believe this woman wishes to spend time with O'Neill," added Teal'c. Jack shot him a glare.
 
"Thank you, Teal'c," he grumbled. He shrugged apologetically at Sam, who rolled her eyes, and forgave him. She couldn't really blame the girl. He was very attractive, after all. Kynthia had good taste.
 
And a really stupid name.
 
Sam listened with half an ear whilst Daniel expounded on the archaeological attractions, watching disbelievingly as the colonel rapidly scarfed the entire cake. Anyone would think he was starved at home. Then he started to admire his reflection in the dish. Sam frowned as he leaned heavily against her. He was acting odd, all of a sudden...
 
"These people are obviously not laborers," Teal'c was saying. "I must wonder why a Goa'uld would bring them to this planet. Perhaps it was a good Goa'uld."
 
Jack burst out laughing, and the rest of SG-1 stared incredulously at him. "Right!" he said, through the last mouthful of cake. "Like there is such a thing!"
 
Teal'c looked hurt. "I did not intend for my statement to be humorous," he said, somewhat irritably.
 
Jack chuckled – drunkenly? Sam was starting to get a bad feeling about this. "Trust me, it wasn't," he said. There was a definite slur to his words by now. He leaned more heavily against Sam, and turned to look at her. His eyes widened, and he smirked at her. "Hey, Sam," he said, his breath warm and cake-scented against her cheek. "Wanna go somewhere and... fraternize?" He waggled his eyebrows at her. Sam's jaw dropped, and she stared at him in shock.
 
"Uh, Jack..." said Daniel, realizing something was seriously up with their fearless leader. "You okay?"
 
Jack ignored him. "Whaddya say, Cap'n Sam?" He leaned closer, and Sam grabbed his arms in alarm, pushing him back before he could kiss her.
 
She refused to acknowledge the tiny part of her that said 'Yes!' Now was not the time - dammit.
 
"He's been drugged, Daniel," she snapped. "Probably that damn cake. Teal'c, gimme a hand." The colonel was being... very persistent.
 
Before Teal'c could move, two women in diaphanous robes had slipped amongst the team, and tried to grab the colonel. His drunken brown eyes turned to them. "Hey, girls..." he slurred. Daniel stepped between them and Jack.
 
"Uh, ladies, may I have a word?" he asked, holding out his hands and talking fast but politely. "Um, my friend here seems to be acting oddly, or more oddly than usual, which is... unusual, and I was wondering if there is some special ingredient or significance to the cake that your friend, uh, Kynthia, gave him?"
 
The two women stopped, baffled. "Do you not know of the Marriage Cake?" asked one of them, blankly. Daniel sucked in a breath, and Sam and Teal'c exchanged wide-eyed looks over the colonel's head.
 
"M-marriage Cake?"
 
"Screw that!" said Sam, stridently. "Teal'c, take – sir, get off!" If she'd given it a thought – which officially she was denying – she would have thought that having him try to kiss her would have been quite an enjoyable experience. Not so much, it turned out. "Teal'c, take the colonel back to the Gate. We're getting him back to the infirmary, right now."
 
The colonel was trying to make it known that he didn't want to go home. He was having a good time right here, thank you very much. Sam studiously ignored him.
 
By this time, Kynthia had arrived, in a ludicrous get-up with extended butterfly wings on sticks. Sam shot her a death glare, but stayed silent, leaving Daniel to do the talking. Her diplomatic skills probably wouldn't be quite so... diplomatic, at the moment. "What is the problem?" inquired Kynthia. "Why will these people not allow my husband to come to me?"
 
Daniel took off his glasses and pinched his nose, closing his eyes. It was a move he tended to use when Jack was being particularly obtuse, and Sam had mentally labeled it 'Stressed Academic'. "Uh, Kynthia... why did you give Jack the Marriage Cake?"
 
Kynthia looked baffled. "Because I wished to marry him," she said, simply. She seemed to think that was explanation enough. "Why will your friends not release him?"
 
"Uh, well, Kynthia, where we come from, the customs for marriages are a little different," Daniel equivocated. "People take time to get to know one another... usually... and marriage is a big responsibility. My friend didn't understand that by accepting this cake he would be," he swallowed, "marrying you. We need to get him back to our world for a while, whilst we sort out this... mess."
 
Kynthia's butterfly wings had drooped. "He did not wish to marry me?" she whispered, tearfully.
 
"I'm sorry, Kynthia," said Daniel, gently. Apparently he didn't want to upset her. Sam wasn't feeling so generous, herself. Teal'c had twisted the colonel's arms behind his back in order to get him to keep his hands off his 2IC. "Jack didn't understand the customs of your people. He had no intention of hurting your feelings."
 
Kynthia burst into tears, and Daniel winced. She turned and fled for the nearest hut, closely followed by her two assistants. Daniel sighed, and turned back to Jack, who was eyeing Sam with an openly lascivious expression. "How to win friends and influence people, the Jack O'Neill way," he remarked.
 
"Captain Carter," said Teal'c, as he struggled with the uncooperative colonel, "perhaps it would not be a good idea to return O'Neill to the SGC in this state."
 
The colonel mumbled something, from which Sam only caught the words "595" and "mole". She felt herself go pale. Why, oh, why must he always bring that mission up? He was obsessed! "You might be right," she agreed, fervently, imagining the scene in the Gateroom. "But we don't know how long he'll be like this."
 
Daniel looked around, and caught sight of Alekos. He waved the man over. Alekos came, eager to help his new-found friends. "Is there something wrong?"
 
"Alekos," said Daniel, "this, uh, Marriage Cake – how long do the, um, the..." he glanced sideways at Jack, "the symptoms last?"
 
Alekos looked surprised. "An hour or so," he said, and SG-1 breathed a collective sigh of relief. "Is there a problem? Will he not be going to the marriage bed with Kynthia?"
 
The colonel's head swiveled sharply at that. "Kynthia? Pah," he slurred. "Goin' with Sam. Ain't that right, babydoll? Let us eat cake!"
 
Babydoll? "Colonel, shut up!" said Sam through her teeth. She resisted the impulse to kick him in the shins.
 
"No," said Daniel, quickly and definitely. "He won't be going with Kynthia. Or - or Sam. Um, it was an unfortunate mix-up – Jack didn't understand the significance of the cake. He thought it was just a... snack."
 
Alekos raised his eyebrows. "Oh, I am sorry," he said, sincerely. "I would have liked to have closer links between our peoples."
 
"Uh, yeah," said Daniel, vaguely. "Anyway, we'll just be," he waved back towards the temple, "going. For a while."
 
"We'll stay around the temple until this wears off," said Sam, decisively. "That way, if there's any further problems with the colonel, we can zip straight back to the infirmary. We'll be back later, Alekos."
 
Alekos looked dubiously at the sun, now low in the sky, but shrugged good-naturedly. "As you wish," was all he said.
 
---
 
When the colonel finally sobered up, his reaction was all they could have wanted. "MARRIAGE CAKE?"
 
They had left him to sleep it off in an alcove of the temple for a couple of hours, after ensuring he couldn't do any harm. "Yes," said Daniel, sounding distinctly gleeful. "Apparently Kynthia is the second Mrs. O'Neill."
 
Jack glared at his team. "Please tell me you're joking." They were openly smirking at him by now. "Oh, for cryin' out loud! Who gets married by cake?"
 
"That would be you, sir," said Sam, dryly. He shot her a glare. "Apparently it was drugged."
 
"Yeah, I figured that out," grumbled the colonel.
 
"With an aphrodisiac," added Teal'c, for good measure.
 
"Actually, if you think about it, there are a lot of religious ceremonies on Earth that are celebrated with food or drink," said Daniel. He was finding the Argosian culture fascinating – naturally. "I mean, think of the - the Eucharist, for inst-"
 
Jack's ire rose, and he interrupted what promised to be a lengthy monologue. "This is your fault!" he yelled at Daniel.
 
"Me! What did I do?"
 
"You didn't stop me!" His own loudness made him wince, and he slumped back down. "Oy, what a hangover." Sam cut through the plastic bindings on his wrist with her knife, allowing him to put his hands over his face. "Gah... I was really hoping not to have to do the divorce thing again. It's just not as fun as you might think." Then he froze, hands still over his face. "What else did I do?" he asked, his voice muffled but the quiet panic still evident. Sam and Daniel exchanged looks, silently debating whether to tease him any more. Jack took their silence badly, and sat up quickly, looking around as if to find the evidence. "Why were my hands tied?" He looked down. "Why are my legs tied?" he asked, voice rising slightly.
 
Sam sliced through the bonds holding his ankles together, and Daniel and Teal'c took the opportunity to scamper, leaving her to answer the colonel's questions. Sam glared at their retreating back. "Chickens!" she yelled after them. She turned back in time to catch his wince. "Oops," she said – but couldn't help feeling he deserved it, at least a little. She held out a canteen. He didn't take it, staring at her and waiting for her answer. "You were a little... unruly," she explained delicately. "The ties were just easier. We figured you'd rather be safe than... horribly embarrassed." Although that was probably a given, anyhow, what with the new wife and all. Hammond was going to have a fit.
 
He stared silently at her for a long, thoughtful moment. "I don't remember much," he said slowly, "but I do remember feeling very..." He stopped abruptly, and blushed. So did Sam.
 
"It was like dealing with a drunk," she assured him. "Nothing terrible." She grinned at him. "You were just... friendly. Very, very, very friendly... babydoll." Jack groaned, and dropped his head on his knees, cursing. He wrapped his arms around his head. Sam patted his shoulder consolingly. "At least you didn't go off with that woman."
 
Jack peered out from the shelter of this arms. "I hardly even remember her," he confessed. "Was she... did she... *try* anything? I have this memory of a kind of floaty dress thing with... really long arms. Or was that a hallucination?"
 
"That was real enough," said Sam, grimly. "She tried to come and claim her new husband." Jack grimaced. "Daniel headed her off at the pass."
 
"Thank god."
 
"Mmm," agreed Sam. "You didn't seem interested in her, anyhow."
 
The colonel's dark eyes studied her. "No," he said, eventually. "That I remember. I wasn't interested in her."
 
Sam hoped she wasn't blushing as much as she suspected. From the emphasis, she knew he'd recalled who he had been interested in. Typical. Well, thank god they had some lovely alien drugs they could blame it on. She hadn't lied on report yet - not even about that humiliating time that she'd drunk the stuff that made her take off all her clothes, or their moment in the locker room when she'd caught the Touched virus - and didn't want to start now. "I'll make you a deal, sir," she offered. "I'll forget Argos if you'll forget P3X 595." He buried his head again, gave a pitiful groan, and attempted to curl up into a small, hungover ball of embarrassment. She set the canteen down beside him, and rose to her feet. "We'll be by the statue," she said. "The sun has set, but Daniel was hoping to head back to town, to talk to Alekos a bit more. If that's okay with you, sir?"
 
Jack waved a hand at her to leave him alone. But his voice called out plaintively as she left the alcove.
 
"Tell Daniel to bring me back some Divorce Doughnuts."
 
---
 
A couple of days later and they were home, having solved the riddle of the idyllic Argosian existence. "They're kinda like mayflies," Jack summed up in the debrief. Everyone gave him a funny look. "What? They are."
 
"Do we expect any side-effects from the drug you were given?" asked General Hammond.
 
Jack shook his head, looking pained. "No, sir."
 
"It was a fairly weak recreational drug," said Daniel, going into lecture mode. "An aphrodisiac, used by the Argosians to celebrate weddings – with a very short-term effect. The Argosians view the time spent under the drug's influence as sort of the - the honeymoon period, if you will. Much of the Argosian way of life, in fact, is built around the short-term. Now we've destroyed the transmitter that controls the nanites, it'll be a big change for them. They'll have to deal with the responsibilities of a much longer lifespan – their whole way of life will have to change. But now they literally have a whole world of opportunities open to them."
 
Hammond nodded. "And the colonel's wife?"
 
Sam hoped her wince went unnoticed. It probably did, because everyone turned to look at the colonel - who scowled.
 
"Uh, we're actually okay on that score," said Daniel, brightly. "As the marriage was... unconsummated, Argosian custom and by extension Argosian law - as they have no actual written laws – say that it's annulled. In effect, the wedding never really happened."
 
"For which I am truly thankful," said Jack.
 
Hammond nodded. "I imagine you are, Colonel," he said, blandly. Jack gave him a suspicious look. Sam wondered if the general was laughing at Jack. If he was, he was very good at hiding it. "Okay, people. Well done. You're dismissed."
 
Hammond retreated to his office. Daniel started to gather up his papers. "I'm going to go finish these translations from Pelops' temple," he said, already half distracted. "Their history must be fascinating. Teal'c, are you free to give me a hand with some of the translations?"
 
"I am," Teal'c nodded. Daniel was already asking him questions about the language as they headed out the door.
 
"I'm going to take a look at the information we gathered on the nanites, before the samples were destroyed," Sam said enthusiastically, still looking through the scans she'd brought to the debrief. "It's fascinating – the work on nanotechnology I was involved in when I was at the Pentagon never reached this level of-"
 
"Fun though that sounds," interrupted Jack, "I have to... go stare blankly at some reports. I'll see you later." Although he didn't grin, his eyes were twinkling mischievously when she looked up at him. "Meet you in the commissary at 1600?" he suggested. "For cake?"
 
"Sure, sir," she said distractedly, already going back to the nanite scans. She froze as his words registered, and stared up at his quickly-retreating back.
 
Cake?
 
Did he just...?
 
Naaaaaaaaah.
 
---

TBC

Fic: The Wrong Man (Valentines #7)

  • Feb. 13th, 2007 at 10:27 AM
pepper: Pepperpot (Default)
Title: The Wrong Man
Author:  Pepper
Rating: PG for language.
Season: One
Related SG-1 Episode(s): 105 The First Commandment
Featured Character(s): Sam, Jack
Pairing(s): Sam/Jack
Summary: Sam is freaking out, but what – or who – is the real cause?

--- 
 
Sam wasn't freaking out. )
 
Okay, maybe she was freaking out a little. But just a little. A very little.
 
Oh god.
 
Well, who could blame her? It had been totally unexpected – out of the blue. She hadn't seen it coming. She'd just turned a corner, and them – bam – there he was. And she was there. In the same place. At the same time. Together.
 
Her brain was having trouble processing this. She'd been thinking about it – about him – all morning, the thoughts running around her head in an endless loop, giving her a headache. It was weird, and wrong, and just plain bad.
 
"Carter!" Argh! God damn, the colonel walked silently. "You got that DHD fixed yet?"
 
"Not yet, sir. But then I've only been working on it for five minutes."
 
The colonel frowned at her, and crossed his arms around his gun. "Something I should know about, Captain?"
 
"Sir?"
 
"You've been in a bad mood since we got here."
 
Damn. She'd been hoping that he hadn't noticed. She gritted her teeth. "Sorry, sir."
 
He waved his arms irritably. "Pshaw!"
 
She gave him a look. "Pshaw?"
 
"Pshaw," he nodded. "Just tell me what the hell's up with you, will ya?"
 
"I'm fine, sir," she said, trying to sound normal and only succeeding in sounding pissed off.
 
"Is it anything to do with Hanson?"
 
Damn. Damn, damn, damn. Why in heaven's name had she told Daniel about her unlamented ex-fiance? Well, despite his apparent inability to keep a secret, Daniel was rapidly becoming her closest confidante, and she'd absolutely had to talk to someone. She'd panicked – absolutely panicked, in a totally uncharacteristic way – when she'd turned an SGC corner last week and walked smack into Jonas. He'd looked embarrassed for a moment, then had given her one of his smiles – one of those knowing smiles that had turned her insides to goo, way back when – and greeted her calmly. Of course, he'd already known she was there. But she'd obviously missed the memo that said, 'Your ex-fiance has been posted to the same command!' She'd mumbled something in greeting, and fled, hating that he'd know she was freaking out. And for the past week she'd been in a state of denial about the amount of time she spent in her lab with the door shut and the little red 'I'm busy, don't come in or things might explode' light on. When she absolutely had to go through the corridors, only her pride had forced her not to skulk like a madwoman.
 
"Hanson, sir?" Maybe Daniel hadn't told him everything.
 
The colonel rolled his eyes. "You've been acting weird all week. Daniel finally let me in on your little secret after I saw you ducking into a supply closet on Level 14 – and it was lucky he did, 'cause I thought you were going nuts. Is it really that bad, having your ex on base?"
 
She groaned, and covered her face with her hands. "Yes, sir, it really is. Now would you please leave me alone so I can get on and fix the DHD and we can all go home and I can go back to hiding in closets again?"
 
"No," he said, firmly. He scrutinized the surrounding area, hefted his gun to a more comfortable position, and plunked himself down with his back to the DHD. "You multitask like nobody's business, so get on and fix that, and tell me about Hanson." When she lowered her hands and gave him a glare, he looked blandly back at her. "The mental health of my team is of paramount importance to me."
 
Damn him, too. Sam turned back to the DHD. It was easier to talk to him when she wasn't looking at him – that way she could almost forget who he was, and who she was, and all the complications between them. "We didn't have an easy break-up," she said, tersely. "It was a shock to run into him. But I'm coping with it."
 
"Hiding in closets is your coping strategy?"
 
A smile twitched the corner of her mouth. "Well, it's one method." God, she must have looked like a complete idiot! And the colonel must have taken it pretty seriously to be forcing her to talk to him like this, she realized. He didn't exactly welcome conversations about emotions – his own or anyone else's – with open arms and a smile on his face. "Okay, I might not be coping so well," she admitted. "But I mean, I didn't even know he was in the country, never mind on my base!"
 
She could feel his eyes on her. "Your base?"
 
She shrugged. "That's how it feels," she explained. "I know it's not actually my base, but.... well, I was there first. Jonas..." She trailed off, reordering the crystals without consciously thinking about it. "I guess I just feel like he's invaded my space. The SGC is really important to me. More so than anything else I've done – any other posting I've had." She glanced at him, and he nodded slowly. She turned back to the crystals. "I don't want to mess it up – I don't want my personal life, my feelings, to get in the way of my work," she said, and felt her cheeks go pink. She couldn't look at the colonel. A thoughtful silence was emanating from him. And suddenly she was thinking not about Jonas, but about another military man, currently much closer. They'd been crazy golfing. They'd been for a picnic in the park. They'd been bowling. They'd been out to a couple of restaurants, and several bars. She was, in fact, dating Jack O'Neill.
 
Ack!
 
Actually, seeing as Teal'c and Daniel came along every single time, too, perhaps she was dating all of them... Or maybe SG-1 was dating itself... Or maybe it was Jack who was dating the three of them? Heh.
 
Ignoring the fact that he was her CO (and oh, what a bad idea that was, but she kept doing it nevertheless), he was also entirely the sort of man she ought to avoid. She had a long, unhappy history with that sort of man – witness Jonas, a fully paid-up member of the 'lunatic fringe', as her dad had succinctly termed them. Daniel and Teal'c, now, were both prime examples of the sort of men she ought to be attracted to, but somehow wasn't: thoughtful, intelligent, emotionally mature men – responsible adults, not bad boys who were off-limits anyhow.
 
Okay, okay, maybe it wasn't that bad. Not every ex-Special Ops guy was certifiable. And it wasn't as if she was actually going out with him. Admittedly, it bore a startling resemblance to dating, but it wasn't really dating, was it? Not if other people came along every time (chaperones?). Not if they never kissed (that damn virus a month ago?). Not if they never acknowledged their mutual attraction (Valentine's cards? flowers?).
 
Not if they never got caught.
 
"So, this guy," he said, carefully, interrupting her musings, "he makes you act irrationally."
 
"Yeah."
 
"Your... feelings, they get in the way of your work," he said, in a significant tone. "And you don't want that."
 
"Mm-hmm." Suddenly, her ability to talk had vanished.
 
"Oh." So had his, it seemed. The silence stretched out uncomfortably. "So, uh... What are we talking about, exactly?"
 
"Jonas," she said, firmly.
 
"Just Jonas?"
 
"Yes."
 
"Not... anyone else? You don't think that your... feelings... for anyone else might... interfere with your work?"
 
Sam gave this her careful consideration. Now was the time to speak up, obviously. To stop this before they both got in too deep. She knew what she should say. She opened her mouth. "No," she said. "I don't think so." Damn. That hadn't been what she'd meant to say at all.
 
There was a long silence. "No?"
 
"No."
 
"Because there aren't any feelings?" He sounded... disappointed?
 
She gave him a glance. "No," she confessed.
 
He frowned in confusion. "No? No there aren't any feelings, or no, there are?"
 
"The, uh... the second option."
 
It was at this point that she discovered Jonas wasn't the only one who could give her a slow smile that melted her insides. Only the colonel's version was worse – or better: it was accompanied by a long, lingering, predatory look – a look that she could physically feel as his chocolate-colored eyes traveled from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, and then back up to meet her wide-eyed stare. Oh, wow. Wow. Her synapses fused, and a blush swept over her entire body. She would bet serious money that this man could do things to her that no one else... Aaaand she dropped a big mental buffer in front of that train of thought. Those were seriously bad, non-regulation things to be thinking in relation to her CO.
 
"Ah," was all he said. He seemed to realize that he was giving his 2IC a Look, and aimed his eyes abruptly elsewhere. "So... feelings, eh?"
 
"Mmf. Of... attraction," she said, feeling the need to clarify that they weren't talking about the big 'L' here – just that she found him... that he was.... She glanced at him. "Strong attraction," she added, slightly more emphatically than she'd intended. It seemed to throw him nicely. His mouth opened and closed a few times, fishlike.
 
"Um. Uh. I mean, that is, uh, you know you're not the only one, right?"
 
She stared at the crystals unseeingly. "I'm not?"
 
"No," he said, firmly.
 
"Ah." Her insides did a totally non-regulation happy dance.
 
"So you don't think this," he gestured quickly between them, "will interfere with your – our – work?"
 
"No. Because I'm not – I wasn't intending to take it any further. So it won't be a problem. That is, I don't think so – but if you want to stop-"
 
"No!" He coughed, looking embarrassed by the fervency of his answer. "I mean, no, I think it's very important to bond... as a team."
 
"Yes?"
 
"Yes. And it's all perfectly... it's not like we're... we're only... we're not... being attracted to someone doesn't mean that..." He – very sensibly – gave up on that sentence. "So... we're-?"
 
"-Okay? Yes."
 
"And we can still-?"
 
"-Go on team bonding outings? Yes."
 
"So long as it doesn't -?"
 
"-Interfere with our work? Yes."
 
He didn't seem to mind that she was finishing all his sentences. "Good." He clapped his hands together, and rubbed them. "Glad we've got that clarified, then. You know me – I'm all in favor of clarity."
 
"Yes, sir."
 
He stood up quickly. "So, uh, how long for the," he waved vaguely at the DHD.
 
Sam looked at her work. Damn, she really was good at multitasking. "I think it's nearly fixed, sir. Gimme ten more minutes."
 
"Sweet. I'll go tell the boys the good news. Daniel's off playing with his rocks again." He became aware of how that might sound. "Uh, artifact rocks – you know." Sam grinned. "I'll just... Yeah."
 
He wandered off in the direction of the tumbledown buildings they'd discovered earlier. Sam realized that they'd not really finished their discussion of Jonas, and how she was dealing with his presence at the SGC. Strangely, though, the thought of encountering her ex-fiance wasn't bothering her much, any more. How peculiar.
 
Humming quietly to herself, Sam Carter got on with her work.
 
---

TBC

Fic: Four's Company (Valentines #6)

  • Feb. 11th, 2007 at 10:38 AM
pepper: Pepperpot (Default)
Title: Four's Company
Author: Pepper
Rating: G
Season: One
Related SG-1 Episode(s): None
Featured Character(s): Sam, Jack, Daniel, and Teal’c
Pairing(s): Sam/Jack
Summary: A date or not a date, that is the question.
A/N: The Series That Wouldn't Die. I can't seem to stop writing this, now.
 
It occurred to Jack on the drive over that this was the first time they'd all met up outside of work. )
 
O'Malley's was decorated for Valentine's, but not too over-the-top – the ribbons and balloons were kept to a tasteful minimum, Jack was pleased to see. If the steaks were as good as promised, he might have to make this a regular haunt. He glanced at Sam. This was the closest thing to a romantic evening he'd had in years. Damn, he really had to get out more. He sat back and observed his team. They should do this more often, he decided. They weren't a bad bunch – more enjoyable to spend time around than he'd have thought. Yes, he concluded, watching Sam tip her head back and laugh at something Daniel had said, they should definitely do this again.
 
He suddenly realized the turn of his thoughts, and braced himself for the feelings of guilt. Surprisingly, they weren't as bad as usual. Yes, he was having a good time, and, yes, Charlie was dead – remembering it was still like a knife to the gut, and that would never change. He hadn't forgiven himself and never would, but forgetting was somehow more allowable with his team around him. And he didn't plan to dwell this evening. He leaned forward and picked up his glass.
 
"Boys and girl," Jack interrupted whatever Daniel had been saying without compunction. "There's a very good reason behind this little outing tonight." Daniel, as subtle as ever, looked at Sam. Jack continued quickly, "I'd like to congratulate T on obtaining his freedom from the Mountain. Would you raise your glasses?" Sam and Daniel grabbed their drinks, as Teal'c looked surprised. "To Teal'c's freedom," he said.
 
"Teal'c's freedom," chorused Daniel and Sam. Teal'c now looked moved – it was very similar to his 'surprised' expression, but they were learning to read the subtle differences.
 
"Thank you," he said, putting his closed fist to his chest and bowing his head.
 
When they got to dessert, Teal'c looked around at the red and pink decorations, and then turned to Daniel. "Explain this Valentine's Day to me," he requested.
 
Jack rolled his eyes, and Daniel smiled. "It's a tradition which began in the Middle Ages – that's around the twelfth to fifteenth centuries," he explained. "Now perpetuated by card manufacturers, lingerie shops, and florists, of course. It's more properly known as Saint Valentine's Day, named for an early Christian martyr."
 
"Thanks, Teal'c," groaned Jack. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam grinning at his exaggerated grimace. That distracted him long enough for Daniel to continue his explanation.
 
"There are various explanations as to why Saint Valentine is associated with love and romance, but the main two are that he either arranged secret weddings for Roman soldiers, or that he was in love with his jailer's daughter, and, before he was martyred, he gave her a note signed 'from your Valentine'. Those stories sprang up hundreds of years after his martyrdom, though, and are probably just made up. No one really knows why that day was chosen, but it's been around so long, now, that the reasons behind it don't really matter any more – it's deeply embedded in our culture, like a – a force of habit."
 
"Sergeant Siler told me that the gifting of chocolates, flowers and cardboard is part of the mating ritual," said Teal'c, interested.

"That's cards, T," said the colonel. "And it's not a – a mating ritual, necessarily. It can be just a – a-"
 
"-Nice gesture," Jack and Sam spoke simultaneously. They looked at one another, and their eyes locked.
 
"Whatever you say, guys," said Daniel, looking from one to the other, amused.
 
Teal'c scrutinized the Air Force half of SG-1. Then he turned to Daniel. "Tell me more about Tau'ri mating customs," he requested. "Are they usually as ambiguous as this exchange of Valentine's gifts?"
 
Daniel met his eyes, saw the teasing glint, and decided that his teammates deserved it. "Well, a good starting point is the giving of gifts," he said. "Chocolates, flowers," he looked at Captain Carter, who blushed vividly, dropped her gaze from her CO, and developed a sudden interest in the last few crumbs of her cake, "and other tokens of esteem. The next stage is generally to ask for a date. That's when the pair go out someplace like a movie, or a museum-"
 
"Yeah, you'd take a girl to museum on a first date," muttered Jack disparagingly, absent-mindedly peeling the label from his bottle of beer as he watched Sam avoiding his gaze.
 
Daniel gave a quelling look to the colonel, who ignored him. "Or a restaurant," he said, pointedly. "In more archaic civilizations, this might have involved the use of a chaperone, to make sure there was no funny business. In western culture nowadays, this is usually considered unnecessary."
 
"I see," said Teal'c. And indeed, he was beginning to see. He looked around them at the restaurant. "And what is the next phase?"
 
"Well, that's the first date. If it goes well, the second date is usually something more fun. First dates are to create a good impression – show off a bit. The second date is a chance for the couple to enjoy themselves a bit more; to see what each other is like under more relaxed circumstances. Something silly, perhaps, like the zoo, or rollerblading, or-"
 
"You guys ever been to the crazy golf place in the Springs?" interrupted Jack, uber-casually. Three pairs of eyes turned to stare at him, and he dropped his eyes to his peeled beer bottle. "I hear it's good."
 
Teal'c exchanged a look with Daniel. "Are you inviting us on a second team-bonding outing, O'Neill?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow in amusement. Jack shrugged.
 
"I guess. You wanna go?"
 
Daniel and Teal'c turned as one to look at Sam. She frowned at them both. "What?"
 
Daniel tipped his head. "Are you sure about this, Jack?"
 
"Sure about what? It's just a day out," huffed Jack, unconvincingly. "You coming or what? Because I've got kind of a full calendar, and-"
 
"I'll go," agreed Daniel, hurriedly. Curiosity would be his downfall some day: he had to see where this was going. "Teal'c?"
 
"I would like to see more of these Tau'ri customs," stated Teal'c.
 
"I'll take that as a yes," said Jack. He looked at Sam. "Carter? You in?" His tone was brusque, professional even. His eyes... his eyes were anything but. Sam took one look in those eyes, and all her good intentions evaporated, like mist burned away by the sun.
 
She shrugged nonchalantly, looking at Daniel, Teal'c, the waiter, the bar, the ceiling fan... anywhere but at the Colonel. "Sure, I guess. Sounds like it could be fun."
 
Jack's grin was sudden and bright. "Sweet!"
 
There was a pause, as Daniel and Teal'c looked at the other two, Jack looked at Sam, and Sam looked at the table. Sam cleared her throat at last, summoned up her courage, lifted her head and looked around challengingly. Her gaze settled on Daniel. "You seem to be the expert, Daniel. So what happens on the third date?"
 
---

TBC

Fic: Etiquette (Valentines #5)

  • Feb. 10th, 2007 at 10:15 AM
pepper: Pepperpot (Thinky)
Title: Etiquette
Author: Pepper
Rating: G
Season: One
Related SG-1 Episode(s): None
Featured Character(s): Teal'c, Jack, Sam, Daniel
Pairing(s): Sam/Jack
Summary: Teal'c reflects on the situation.
A/N: For Lennie – by request! I felt I'd neglected Teal'c, so this is his take. And it's true about the fork, or so I heard. 

Series:  Intruder Alert / Sweet, Cute, Tacky / Days Of Wine And Roses / Unprofessional / Etiquette / Four's Company / The Wrong Man / The Kirk Syndrome / White. Silk. Underwear. / Slow Evolution

---
 
Teal'c was unfamiliar with many Tau'ri customs. )
 
He had discussed this apparent discrepancy with Colonel O'Neill, who explained that many of the rules of etiquette were merely guidelines, and that some of them did not apply in a modern and politically correct society. The holding open of doors for females, for instance, might be considered offensive. Or it might not. It all depended on the situation and the female – so said Colonel O'Neill. Or there was the eating of jell-o with a fork, which the book stated was the proper way to do it, but which had been remarked critically upon by both their team-mates when the Colonel did so.
 
It was indeed confusing.
 
He had also spoken to Daniel Jackson and Captain Carter about this difficult problem. Daniel Jackson had talked at length about the "evolution of social structure" and the "development of pack behavior" – from which Teal'c had inferred that Daniel Jackson did not himself fully understood the practical application of Tau'ri social skills.
 
Captain Carter had smiled and told him that he would "pick it up eventually", and that he just needed to spend some time observing how Tau'ri interacted amongst themselves in a social setting. Upon her advice, Teal'c had spent some time in the commissary, observing the Tau'ri at rest. However, he found that doing so appeared to make them nervous. Captain Carter had explained that reaction, too. She said that the act of observation itself changed the subject being observed. She went on to say that she thought his behavior was "just fine".
 
Teal'c had come to the conclusion that none of his team-mates had any helpful suggestions to give. Perhaps they were socially inept. It seemed a fair assumption to make, given the small amount of time they devoted to their lives outside Cheyenne Mountain. He had not said as much to them, however – feeling proud of the fact that he had at least learnt something.
 
Now, whenever an opportunity arose to observe Tau'ri in a relaxed atmosphere, he took it eagerly. This was partly to increase his understanding, but also partly because the cold grey walls of the mountain were becoming distinctly over-familiar.
 
This afternoon, he had received a phonecall from Colonel O'Neill, inviting him to dine at a restaurant in Colorado Springs with the team. He had accepted. At nineteen hundred hours, he met with Colonel O'Neill and Captain Carter and traveled with them to the car park twenty-eight floors above the Stargate. Together they awaited Daniel Jackson. Teal'c observed the others, silently. Both his team-mates were acting strangely – as though they were completely unaware of each others' presence, and at the same time both acutely aware when the other was looking in their direction.
 
"So, Teal'c, how's the, uh, the kel'no'reeming going?" asked Colonel O'Neill. Teal'c slowly looked at the Colonel. He got the impression that the Colonel might be blushing, but it was hard to tell as the sun had set nearly two hours before, and the light provided by the electric lamps was unhelpful. Teal'c felt a pang of homesickness, remembering the gentle light of torches in the warm Chulakian night. He would have to speak to Daniel Jackson about acquiring some more candles.
 
"My kel'no'reeming is proceeding as normal, Colonel O'Neill," he replied.
 
The Colonel nodded. "Good," he said. He sounded distracted. This was probably because Captain Carter was looking oddly at him, and he was pretending to be unaware of it.
 
There was a pause. Teal'c was not uncomfortable. But it seemed the other two were. They shifted, and shuffled their feet constantly. This was unusual in Captain Carter, certainly. Less so in Colonel O'Neill, who, when not on the field of battle, was prone to constant restless movement. Teal'c began to wonder if something had occurred. "Has something occurred of which I am unaware, Colonel O'Neill?"
 
Both of them looked in his direction. He noticed that, when their gaze chanced to meet, they both looked away quickly. "What? No. Nothing's happened, Teal'c," said Colonel O'Neill – nervously? Yes, definitely nervously. "Why d'you ask?"

"You are both nervous," explained Teal'c.
 
Again, their eyes met and slid away. It seemed to be involuntary. "Nervous? Us? We're not nervous. Why would we be nervous?" said Colonel O'Neill, nervously.
 
"I don't know what you're talking about, Teal'c," added Captain Carter. Nervously.
 
"Me neither."
 
"I'm not nervous."
 
"Nor am I."
 
"Not at all nervous."
 
"No."
 
Teal'c had let his glance swing from one to the other as they nervously bounced the conversation between them. Feeling they had made his point for him, he clasped his hands behind his back, tipped his head back, and regarded the sky calmly. "I see," he said.
 
There was a nervous silence.
 
"Hey guys, sorry I'm late!" called Daniel Jackson, as he approached.
 
Teal'c distinctly heard Captain Carter mutter: "Oh, thank god."
 
Teal'c smiled: for once he was not puzzled by Tau'ri behavior. Some things were universal, it seemed. He was reminded of his own state of chaos when preparing to ask Drey'auc to be his sim'ka. Yes, Tau'ri behavior might be alien – but it was not entirely unfamiliar.
 
---
TBC

 

Fic repost: Valentines # 2, 3, 4

  • Feb. 7th, 2007 at 2:34 PM
pepper: Pepperpot (Squee)

I have no patience. I'm going to post the others to lj today. Will it all fit in one post? We shall see. I promise I'll cool it with the ficspam now.

Part 1 is in previous post, here.

Valentines 2: Sweet, Cute, Tacky )



 

Valentines 3: Days Of Wine And Roses )




 

Valentines 4: Unprofessional )


THE END. SORT OF.

See, those were the original four. And that was supposed to be It. But then I liked the feedback, and got an idea for a sequel, and now I don't know if I'll ever finish it, being the hopelessly disorganised case that I am. 

Fic repost: Valentines #1: Intruder Alert

  • Feb. 7th, 2007 at 9:58 AM
pepper: Pepperpot (Squee)

So today I'm posting fluff. The first one of a series, originally intended to only be a series of four. I'm only going to post the first four stories on here, because they work as a complete set, and after that it meanders off and I'm not sure where it's going or when it'll get there, so that's just annoying. But you're welcome to read the rest on ff.net or my website (spaceprincess).

And I'm completely pretending that I'm posting this in time for Valentine's Day, and not just that it's a total coincidence that has only just dawned on me. Yes.

Title: Intruder Alert
Author: Pepper
Rating: G
Season: One
Featured Character(s): Sam, Daniel, Jack
Pairing(s): Sam/Jack friendship/UST
Summary: Sam gets something unexpected
A/N: Simpsons references abound. 

Series
:  Intruder Alert / Sweet, Cute, Tacky / Days Of Wine And Roses / Unprofessional / Etiquette / Four's Company / The Wrong Man / The Kirk Syndrome / White. Silk. Underwear. / Slow Evolution

---

Captain Sam Carter stared at the intruder, her first feeling one of surprise. )

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