Entry tags:
Sam/Jack ficlet
Another museum ficlet, this time for ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
holdouttrout, who asked for room 13 and Sam/Jack - for which she gets this bit of fluff. The room was full of early Greek (Mycenaean) pottery, coins and jewellery, 1050 – 520 BC. They had copies of some of the earliest coins ever made, tiny little things, like little silver nuggets in uneven shapes, stamped with their value. What first caught my eye, though, was a giant storage jar, or pithos.
---
*eyeroll at self*
holdouttrout, who asked for room 13 and Sam/Jack - for which she gets this bit of fluff. The room was full of early Greek (Mycenaean) pottery, coins and jewellery, 1050 – 520 BC. They had copies of some of the earliest coins ever made, tiny little things, like little silver nuggets in uneven shapes, stamped with their value. What first caught my eye, though, was a giant storage jar, or pithos. ---
They were whispering.
"I think I might be stuck."
"You're kidding me."
The container rocked, and Sam swore under her breath. "Don't move! This jar doesn't have a very broad base, sir."
"So why did you jump in on top of me?!"
"There was nowhere else to go."
Jack huffed. "Ali Baba never had this problem. You're really stuck?"
"No, I love being crammed into a jar like a pickled chili," Sam hissed, sarcastically.
"Major..."
There was a frosty silence.
"Well, Teal'c will get us out when it's clear. Meanwhile, how about moving your elbow? I know criticizing a woman's shape is, you know, bad and all, but you're all goddamn elbows and knees – ow! The other way! Move it the other way!"
"Sorry, sir." She didn't sound sorry. "My elbow slipped."
Jack was quiet for a moment, considering his options. "That's okay," he whispered, cautiously. "Just be careful next time, willya?"
There was an uncomfortable silence, broken eventually by a soft sniffing noise. "Is that your feet?"
"It was a long walk!" protested Jack. "Anyway, it wouldn't be bothering you if you hadn't stuffed yourself in here with me!"
"No, sir," sighed Sam. "Next time I'll remember it's a choice between quick death at the end of a staff weapon, and slow death of suffocati-ow!"
"My teeth slipped," whispered Jack, blandly.
"You bit me!"
"Well, you bit me first!"
"What? When?"
"On Apophis's ship!"
There was silence as Sam cast about in her memory. "But – but that was nearly six years ago!" The jar rocked unsteadily as Jack attempted a nonchalant shrug. "Sir."
"Yeah, yeah. No wriggling. My knees are not loving this, you know."
After a few moments, Sam whispered: "I can't believe you still remember that."
"Well, you know. I still bear the scars."
"Oh, you do not."
"Mentally. Mentally I do." A long pause, and then in a slightly higher-pitched whisper: "Carter?"
"Kissed it better."
"...Oh."
A much longer pause, thick with unspoken words and unfinished thoughts.
"Have you ever smacked me in the mouth? I've been trying to remember."
"No, sir." This time, she did sound sorry.
"Damn."
"Want me to smack you in the mouth now?"
"Not especially, Carter."
"I did hit you on the nose that one time. By accident, of course."
"So you did." Silence, some rustling, and then a soft sigh. "Carter..."
"Yes, sir. I know. Sorry. It won't happen again."
"Actually, I was going to say that I just remembered that I slugged you on the cheek once."
"Oh. I... oh." The sound of breathing was slightly more audible. "Uh... well, that makes it all better, then."
"Mm."
"Have I ever hit your eyebrow?"
"Everyone hits my eyebrow, Carter. Or my knees."
"I'm not kissing your knees better, sir. I couldn't possibly reach them, in here."
"But if you could-?"
"Shut up, sir."
The jar wobbled precariously, and then settled.
"...Okay, the eyebrow one I understood, but what was the second one for? I'm pretty sure you've never hit me there."
"That was for when I make you frown."
"Sweet. What about for when I make you laugh?"
"Why would that need kissing better?"
"Well... sometimes I wish you didn't laugh at my jokes."
"Works for mmmf..."
---
"I think I might be stuck."
"You're kidding me."
The container rocked, and Sam swore under her breath. "Don't move! This jar doesn't have a very broad base, sir."
"So why did you jump in on top of me?!"
"There was nowhere else to go."
Jack huffed. "Ali Baba never had this problem. You're really stuck?"
"No, I love being crammed into a jar like a pickled chili," Sam hissed, sarcastically.
"Major..."
There was a frosty silence.
"Well, Teal'c will get us out when it's clear. Meanwhile, how about moving your elbow? I know criticizing a woman's shape is, you know, bad and all, but you're all goddamn elbows and knees – ow! The other way! Move it the other way!"
"Sorry, sir." She didn't sound sorry. "My elbow slipped."
Jack was quiet for a moment, considering his options. "That's okay," he whispered, cautiously. "Just be careful next time, willya?"
There was an uncomfortable silence, broken eventually by a soft sniffing noise. "Is that your feet?"
"It was a long walk!" protested Jack. "Anyway, it wouldn't be bothering you if you hadn't stuffed yourself in here with me!"
"No, sir," sighed Sam. "Next time I'll remember it's a choice between quick death at the end of a staff weapon, and slow death of suffocati-ow!"
"My teeth slipped," whispered Jack, blandly.
"You bit me!"
"Well, you bit me first!"
"What? When?"
"On Apophis's ship!"
There was silence as Sam cast about in her memory. "But – but that was nearly six years ago!" The jar rocked unsteadily as Jack attempted a nonchalant shrug. "Sir."
"Yeah, yeah. No wriggling. My knees are not loving this, you know."
After a few moments, Sam whispered: "I can't believe you still remember that."
"Well, you know. I still bear the scars."
"Oh, you do not."
"Mentally. Mentally I do." A long pause, and then in a slightly higher-pitched whisper: "Carter?"
"Kissed it better."
"...Oh."
A much longer pause, thick with unspoken words and unfinished thoughts.
"Have you ever smacked me in the mouth? I've been trying to remember."
"No, sir." This time, she did sound sorry.
"Damn."
"Want me to smack you in the mouth now?"
"Not especially, Carter."
"I did hit you on the nose that one time. By accident, of course."
"So you did." Silence, some rustling, and then a soft sigh. "Carter..."
"Yes, sir. I know. Sorry. It won't happen again."
"Actually, I was going to say that I just remembered that I slugged you on the cheek once."
"Oh. I... oh." The sound of breathing was slightly more audible. "Uh... well, that makes it all better, then."
"Mm."
"Have I ever hit your eyebrow?"
"Everyone hits my eyebrow, Carter. Or my knees."
"I'm not kissing your knees better, sir. I couldn't possibly reach them, in here."
"But if you could-?"
"Shut up, sir."
The jar wobbled precariously, and then settled.
"...Okay, the eyebrow one I understood, but what was the second one for? I'm pretty sure you've never hit me there."
"That was for when I make you frown."
"Sweet. What about for when I make you laugh?"
"Why would that need kissing better?"
"Well... sometimes I wish you didn't laugh at my jokes."
"Works for mmmf..."
---
*eyeroll at self*
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The very premise of these ficlets is making me *insanely* jealous, though. I only had twenty minutes once to hit the British Museum in between connecting flights (I hung out in the Elgin Marbles area). *sniff* Luckily I will be in London next fall for a couple days. Yay!
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I'm having immense fun with this idea. I'm filling up a notebook with all sorts of random scribblings. I'm hoping some of it will stick in my brain and be of use sometime. Even if not, it's still fun to hang out amongst the plough coulters, bronze coins and giant stone hands of an afternoon. (The Elgin Marbles are one of my favourite things in the place. Lovely, lovely things.)
And yeah - any excuse for some, er... basketweaving. *g*
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bwha. basketweaving. snorfle.
Oh, and did you see they just found a 7,000 year old Egyptian city? Just...wow. It's amazing sometimes that they are *still* discovering things. Very exciting.
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I'd not heard about the 7,000 year old city - wow. It's not as if Egypt is that big a place, and everything has to be right next to the Nile - but they're still digging up huge finds. Amazing.
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Thank youuuuu! *hugs*
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Blind panic. *looks shifty*
And as for as they get out, simple: Teal'c pushes the jar over and breaks it. *g*
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"Have you ever smacked me in the mouth? I've been trying to remember." Oh that Jack - he's a quick thinker! :D So so cute!
This British Museum prompt thing you thought of is just brilliant!
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They are terribly stupid-cute, aren't they? And Jack has a tactical brain - don't let the act fool you. *g*
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So what would the 'Sack' fic cliche be, then?
ETA: On second thought, I don't think I want to know. *g*
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You've obviously had enough, young lady. :P
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*wanders off to do more prompting*
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So. Cute.
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(and she definitely has dangerous elbows)
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Hee - thanks! Now and then I am compelled to write my stupid-cute OTP - it's not something I have control over. *g*
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Yay for the stupid-cute make out in a jar session!!!
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Dude. I write the stupidest things. *g*
Heh - glad it could help!
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Could they be any cuter?
Too fun.
sharon
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Thanks! They're my happy place. :)
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"Mentally. Mentally I do."
AHAHAHAAHAH!
Such a cute little ficlet to wake up to!
More!!
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They're terribly stupid-cute, aren't they? Thank you!
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That is all.
(Oh, except to add that archaelogy porn might just be the best tag I've ever seen)
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Thank you! The power of the stupid-cute compels me. *g*
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Also. "Everyone hits me in the eyebrow."
HAHAHAHAHA! It's true!
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Hee - poor Jack, he gets smacked in the eyebrow so often. Still, Sam's kissing it better, so I'm sure it's all worth it.
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You are awesome; that is all.
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Aww! Thank you! A room with all this classy museum stuff, and I get inspired to write slapstick - typical, really. :)
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*continues reading*
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Thanks! Fluff is essential. Also, my brain is stuffed with it, so I have to let it out sometimes. :)
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Lol, so cute! and this little exchange:
"Have you ever smacked me in the mouth? I've been trying to remember."
"No, sir." This time, she did sound sorry.
"Damn."
"Want me to smack you in the mouth now?"
"Not especially, Carter."
Is just too funny! *g*
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