She poked the object suspiciously with the end of the broom. Until she was certain what it was, she definitely wasn’t touching it. Poke. She had an idea of what it could be, but was slightly horrified to contemplate that. Poke. Nothing that colour should be anywhere near a person’s skin. She ignored the foot steps behind her, in favour of keeping an eye on the object.
“Sam.” Jack dropped a hand onto the back of her neck. “What are you doing?” He sounded vaguely amused.
She sighed, and with one last glare at the item, turned to face him. “I was just wondering what that was.” They’d been up at the cabin together for almost two days now, but they were still cleaning it up. It had been over a year since they’d been here, so there was plenty to do, but they’d spent yesterday in bed, making up for the months apart.
His eyes twinkled. “Well, it’s dead.”
She glared at him. “I could see that.” Although she had wondered, another good reason for the broom.
He’d obviously decided that teasing her wasn’t a good way to ensure domestic bliss. “It’s one of my sneakers.”
She resisted the temptation to look down at his feet – barely – and make sure there were no odd growths. But she might have to insist on a shower before he got into bed, tonight. “Are you sure?” She cast a doubtful look over her shoulder. It was vaguely shoe-shaped, but there were no discernable laces, and there was more than one hole. In fact, it looked an awful lot like the droppings from that weird green hippo-beast they’d found on P4X-593.
Jack gave her a strange look. “I think I’d know.”
She wanted to believe him. Really. But -- Poke.
“Carter.” He’d grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him. “It’s a shoe.” He looked over her shoulder. “Okay, it’s a little beat up, and yeah, it’s gotten a bit dirty over the years, but it’s not going to hurt you.”
She arched an eyebrow. “A little beat up? A bit dirty?” He blushed, slightly, just around the tips of his ears, and she shouldn’t find that adorable at all, given what he apparently wore on his feet. “That’s like saying Daniel’s occasionally interested in other cultures. Or that Teal’c’s a size above average.”
He gave her a look. “And how would you know anything about Teal’c’s size, above average or not?”
And she couldn’t help the blush, even though she should have seen that one coming. “Jack.” He looked entirely too pleased with himself, given the state of the supposed sneaker they’d been talking about.
“Tell you what,” he casually removed the broom from her grasp, clasped her hand in his, and guided her away from the door, “How about I promise to buy new sneakers, and you promise to never mention Teal’c’s size again?”
She stopped following him. “I’m pretty sure you’re the one that brought that up.” Which wasn’t to say she hadn’t thought about it, over the years, but she’d certainly have never talked about it with Jack.
“You’re the one who blushed!” She glared, and he backpedaled. “It’s cute. You’re hot when you blush.” He waved his free hand about, as if trying to remove all her objections. “I mean, you’re hot all the time, but –“
She sighed. Disgusting sneakers or not, how could she not love this man? She stilled his hand with her free one, and stopped his babbling with a kiss. When they finally broke apart, she figured they were probably done cleaning for the day, which was fine. They were here for another week.
She smiled at him, and then turned around and headed for the bedroom. “Just so you know, I’m not sleeping with you until you wash your feet.”
Story Notes: Written for the Carnival of Squee at livejournal.
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 ]