"Oh, for crying out loud!"
The second the words leave my lips I know I'm in trouble, but my patience has reached its limit. Its very long limit, I have to say. I'm not known for my hissy fits, but there is only so much I can take. Staring at their shocked faces I begin to giggle, only to be reprimanded yet again by my CO who has, naturally, just walked through the door of my lab. And into the planet formerly known as sanity. I know the startled glances Janet and Daniel are throwing at each other are as much to do with my unintentional echoing of the aforementioned much loved Colonel, sorry make that much loved phrase of aforementioned Colonel than anything else but…Well, Freudian slips "r" us tonight, Samantha. Anyway, dragging my scattered thoughts back to the moment I decide that I've started so I might as well finish.
"Janet, you've spent three hours asking me for advice on how to get Daniel to ask you out on a date, which is kind of ironic considering my oh-so-active and burgeoning love life. May I remind you that the last 2 guys I got involved with were aliens? And YOU," turning I prod the now insanely grinning archaeologist in the chest, "waltz in here asking the exact same thing ten minutes ago! I can't take it anymore, here!" I grab Janet's right hand and Daniel's left. Not easy mind, as they're both trying to hit me at the same time. "Here, just go and talk to EACH OTHER, and invite me to the wedding. I look great in lilac but nothing fluffy. Go! Shoo!" And I actually chase them out of my lab! Closing the door firmly behind them, I turn back round to…
Colonel O'Neill. Damn! Momentary memory lapse, forgot he was there. Must remember how to do that for future inappropriate ogling opportunities.
"Carter, what the hell was that?"
A bad case of PMS, sexual frustration and a lack of chocolate, sir. No, I won't actually say that. Think, form coherent sentence. I'm way smarter than he is, I'm way smarter than he is.
"Well, sir, I've been working on a new process for altering the chemical structure of naquadah which would allow…" my voice trails off as the Colonel demonstrates "death by boredom" very noisily in the corner. Glaring at him I continue, "Anyway, I'm almost at a breakthrough after working all night when Janet arrives and I get three hours of "cute archaeologist". It's more than anyone could take, sir."
Whack, incoming Mars bar hits me on the side of the head, and as I bend to pick it up off the floor I catch him grinning at me. It's not quite the "heart-stopping, all systems breakdown" grin, more like the "knees to jelly for ten minutes, only raising his eyebrow a weeny bit" grin. I acknowledge to myself how glad I am to be in the presence of chocolate right now, and mutter "thanks" as I start to scoff, trying to control my moan of pleasure. At the chocolate.
After a few minutes, "So he's cute?" Was there a hint of concern in his voice?
"Yeah, he's cute, some women like cute." Some women like being in their lab at 14.00 hours with their CO sitting on their desk and swinging his legs.
"Oh."
Rolling my eyes and steadfastly refusing to go down the path of "flattering my CO's ego", just in case I go too far I continue. "So, once I'd finally gotten rid of her, who should arrive but Daniel with that whole bloke thing of "I like your friend so I'll talk to you about it in the vain hope you'll sort it out". After 30 minutes of rambling (sympathetic nod from Colonel at this) I gave up, called Janet in here, and let them have it. They're complaining of being frustrated, they don't know how frustrating it is watching them, at least they…." Shut up, Sam, he didn't notice, he didn't notice.
"At least they…?" Damn, he noticed.
"At least they have a chance to be together now." And … he's buying it. Phew, open mouth; remove foot, carrying on working on naquadah doohickey. I love it when he calls them that. Don't love it when he breaks them though.
"Think they'll make a go of it?" he asks.
"Well, if they don't they'll have the wrath of Sam to face."
"Well, I never was a fan of Star Trek", and I start to giggle. And stop very quickly at a disgusted look from my CO. The phone rings and so I wander over to answer it.
"No, sir, haven't seen them for about quarter of an hour. Yes sir, will do. Bye."
"What's up?"
"General Hammond can't get any reply from Janet's office, I wonder if…" The smirk on the Colonel's face is huge, but before he makes whatever smart comment he's about to I get a flash of inspiration. Walking over, I open the door to my lab and, sure enough, there's Janet and Daniel kissing in the corridor.
"Guys, get a room!" the Colonel shouts and then dives behind me to avoid incoming insults. There's no need though, I doubt a nuclear bomb would separate these two right now. It's sweet really, I'm not jealous at all. I close the door yet again, and turn to find the Colonel playing with my experiment.
Calm, don't startle him. Put. The. Doohickey. Down.
"Sir!" and as I step forward to take it away from him he steps back and round and that's how we ended up on the floor with him on top of me.
Everything went into slow motion, our faces inches apart, moving inexorably towards each other when we both realised, got a grip and began to get up.
"Sorry, Carter, I'll buy you a new one for your birthday" he says sheepishly.
"Hmmm" is about all I'll trust myself to say as I'm concentrating real hard on breathing and not jumping my CO. But now he thinks I'm mad and decides to make a hasty exit, pausing only to mutter more apologies and fire another Mars bar at me. I flash him a quick grin to show I forgive him and he smiles back and everything's OK. Oh well, back to the drawing board with the experiment I suppose. I'll just reset the…
Just then the door's flung open by a very flushed Janet who grabs my arm and my jacket drags me off for another three hours of "cute archaeologist".
Another productive day at the SGC.
*****
Three weeks, four days later and one year older and I'm sitting alone at a bar in town. All of my so-called friends have forgotten my birthday, but I swallowed my pride and invited them out for a drink on the old "Friday night, not killing any Goa'ulds tonight" pretext. They're late, even by our standards so I'm alternately downing shots and slugging beer and am quite happy thank you merry vutch. And the cute barman is spending an inordinate amount of time at my end of the bar, which is not a bad thing. Although I'm probably old enough to be his mother, he looks all of 14 years old. `Specially now, being another year further down the track an' all.
"Happy Birthday to YOOOooooooo!" is screamed into my ear, and I turn round to find the rest of SG-1 and loads of folk from the base standing there. There follows much hand shaking, shouts of
congratulations and not a little gratuitous kissing. Who invited Simmons anyway? Of course, the Colonel was notably absent during all of this, as he had been despatched to the bar to set up the tab and purchase copious amounts of alcohol. Did I mention how much alcohol? And as everyone knows, alcohol can have a slightly, well loosening affect on people's inhibitions. And common sense. And general sanity.
Perhaps this explains how I ended up being carried in a fireman's lift into the Gents toilet by the little guy from SG-4. Beats me how he managed to lift me. Anyway, the dare (did I mention we were playing truth or dare? That's the problem with drunken flashbacks, they never seem to come in any logical order) was to hide me somewhere and steal my shoes. About as close as I'll ever get to Cinderella but there you go. So there I am, sitting by the sinks and trying to figure out how to get out of there without actually having to touch the floor when in strolled the Colonel. He'd declined our invitation to the game, and had spent the last half hour chatting to Daniel and Janet, when they came up for air. Noticing that he hadn't noticed me, I cleared my throat. He froze, looked round, and waved at me in the mirror.
"Hey, whatcha doin'?"
"Playing truth or dare, sir."
"Carter, seeing as it's your birthday and all, knock yourself out. Call me Jack."
"Jack."
"Jack!"
"What? I kinda need to be doing something here Carter."
"Oh, Right. Sorry, I can't go anywhere `cos…"
"'S ok. I'll be back in a sec." And he wanders off, leaving me stranded like whatshername with the long hair in that tower. Only to return, as promised, a minute or so later.
"S-ack? "
"Need a little more practice there, Carter? Anyway, I'm back."
"What about, em, you know?" I ask, trying to express my meaning in meaningful glances without looking at the area of his anatomy necessary for my meaning to be meaningful.
If you get my meaning.
"I took a leaf out of your book, I went to the Ladies!"
"You WHAT???!"
"Look, I checked, there was no-one in and I had to."
I'm sitting there, incredulous and he catches a glimpse of my expression and starts laughing. I join in, and at that moment Teal'c walks in. He takes one look at us, raises an eyebrow and conveys in his stoic way that we have to leave. Immediately.
"Try next door!" Jack suggests. I can call him Jack because it's my birthday. And Teal'c turns and leaves as silently as he appeared.
"Well, I wish whoever would hurry up with my shoes, `cos pleasant as this is, my beer's getting warm and my seat's getting cold."
"Um, Sam?" Must be bad, he called me Sam. And tonight I call him Jack. He said I could you know.
"Yeah?" Can you detect the subtle threat in my tone Jack?
"They issued a new dare when I went out. I've got to carry you out of here." Could anyone stare any harder at their feet than my Colonel at that moment? I don't think so. And then he raised his eyes to mine, a very loud question in them. I'd like to say that I was so drunk that I had no control over my actions, but it's not true. I was drunk, but not that drunk. And neither was he.
I raised my arms to him, like a child who wants a cuddle, and he smiled and walked over to me. Putting my arms around his neck I sat forward so he could grab my legs. Except I went a bit too far, and we both started to fall. My legs went round his waist and his hands clung to my waist as we stumbled backwards. Jack spun us round and slammed my back against the wall rather than the floor, and there we stood, breathing heavily from our exertions. Then I looked directly into a pair of brown eyes, and breathing became very difficult indeed.
Put. The. Major. Down….Sir? Or not. We stared at each other for seconds that felt like years, four years of friendship and flirting and frustration. I don't know which of us leaned in towards the other, bridging the tiny physical and monumental logistical gap between us. I don't know how long we kissed, or at what point we realised that we had to stop. But we did. He set me down gently just beside the door, and we went back outside as if nothing had happened. I'm still amazed by the lack of awkwardness between us. It's as if we simply seized a window of opportunity and accepted it for what it was.
And on my way home I checked very carefully to make sure the sky hadn't fallen in, and wished on a shooting star that all my future birthdays would be this good. All right, I wished for a little more action in the kissing department too, but the two are practically joined at the hip. Bad choice of phrase. But at least I've got Janet's interrogation to look forward to on Monday morning.
Another productive day in the life of Sam Carter.
*****
Well of all the things I imagined doing this morning, standing in front of Colonel O'Neill in a wedding dress was not one of them……….
.....................................................................
"Please?"
"No."
"Please??"
"No."
"Sam!" That was a definite whine. I hate it when she whines, gets me every time.
"Janet, I told you no."
"But I need to see how it looks on someone else, please."
Looking up exasperatedly I tried to wave her off, but there was no use. It was like trying to avoid those tests she was so in favour of running before, during and after every mission.
"Bearing in mind our striking physical resemblance, or lack of, I don't see how me trying on your wedding dress will let you see how it will look."
"But Sam…" The whine went up a notch and I gave in to the inevitable. "OK, OK, but if anyone finds out about this.."
And so, like the good future bridesmaid that I am, I followed our good doctor out to her car. Except the car wouldn't start. And Daniel was at the library with Cassie helping out on her Egyptology project. And Teal'c "wasn'tinrightnowpleaseleaveamessageafterthetone". Twenty minutes and one cab later and we're at the bridal store. As I'm manhandled into the changing room after a brief explanation from Janet, I notice her rummaging in my bag.
"Just getting your cell phone to call for a lift back" she reassures me, waving and grinning. I should have known, Janet's grin is considered a lethal weapon in about twenty states.
So I tried on the dress. It's kind of my size, but it's way too short. Surprise. And I come out and twirl, Janet cries and she's decided that's her dress. I'm just about to make my escape when disaster (in the unexpected shape of Janet and the lady in the bridal store) strikes. They decide that I need to try on one of the other dresses. No amount of protestation would change their minds. Superstition, begging and even that old chestnut of "but I'm not getting married" fell on deaf ears. If the Goa'uld ever invade Earth, I think we should set up a new line of defence; nothing gets past elderly ladies who work in these kind of stores. And I'd just love to see Apophis in pink tulle. Yeah, I know he's supposed to be dead, but that guy's got more lives than Shroedinger.
I have to admit, the dress they've picked out is beautiful. It's long, with a fitted bodice and a huge skirt. Putting it on makes me feel like a princess, the long sleeves give it a medieval feel and I'm looking for a frog to kiss or a knight to come rescue me.
"Come on, Sam, let's have a look" Janet calls from outside the changing room. And, as the final touches are added, as the veil is fluffed and I step into the shoes I take a good look at myself, and I feel my eyes starting to fill. I wish my mother was here, I wish she had got the chance to see me like this. All grown up and beautiful. I feel so beautiful. If you ignore the too short hair and the scrape across my cheek from falling down that mountainside last week, I
could almost pull this off.
"Sam!" OK, there's that whine again, and I obediently float through to the shop front. You ever tried walking in one of those things, you can't, you float. I'm a little embarrassed, so my head is down as I do a little twirl and try to concentrate on not falling over. It's been a long time since I wore heels.
I hear a gasp, then another and then, "For crying out loud!" In that moment I meet my doom, destiny, whatever. Janet didn't call a taxi. Janet called her friend, my CO and the only man I've ever really loved. The only man I could truly see myself marrying and spending the rest of my life with. I was never really engaged to Jonas, it just seemed the easiest thing to do at the time. But him, he's here. He's real. Right here. Colonel O'Neill (two `l's). And now I'm right here, standing in front of him in a freaking wedding dress. I can't look at him.
Oh well, maybe a bit then.
Slowly my eyes find his, and I'm shocked by the raw emotion there. I've only seen that look once before, and I told myself I would never see it again. I told myself wrong.
I see the pride in his eyes, the longing for what we can't have, the slight crinkling round the corners where he's trying desperately to think of a smart comment.
"Stop crying," I say as I parade over to the floor length mirror.
"I'm not"
"I was talking to Janet, sir"
"I knew that. Wow, Carter, you look…" and he's struggling for the words. Smiling I shake my head a little. You don't have to say anything, sir, this is just a bit of make believe.
"Beautiful" It was a whisper that swept up my heart and soul and deposited them firmly in his hands, like they weren't there already. Oh, and to keep them company my power of speech went along for the ride. I'm trying to reply but, just like him, I can't find the words. So I smile some more, and head off back into the changing room. Janet's still crying, I'm hoping it's a sign of approval. I remove my swan costume, and resume the role of ugly ducking again. Or maybe just duckling now, because someone thinks I'm beautiful.
The journey back to Janet's is filled with girl talk, hairstyles and a brief foray into lingerie in a valiant attempt by Janet to get the Colonel to blush. The only person she succeeded in making blush was herself, so she gave up fairly early on.
Back at the house we all carried on as before, as you were if you will. But I caught him looking over at me, more than once. So I let him catch me doing the same. It's one more step down the road to "someday", and after all the angst, trauma and, let's not beat around the bush here, death that's been my pathetic excuse for a love life recently, it's nice to know that the one guy I want, the one guy I can't have, wants me back and thinks I'm beautiful.
Not such a bad day in the life of Sam Carter.
The End
Story Notes: Thank you to Little Miss for reading this for me :) All feedback greatfully appreciated, but be gentle, it's my first time...
Copyright (c) 2001 Ruthie Alexander (Fairygnomes)
Copyright (c) 2001 Ruthie Alexander (Fairygnomes)
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc, are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and plots are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. ... [ read more ]