When it comes to Men - Women tend to forget that they are the superior species
Major Samantha Carter, PhD astrophysicist, soldier and all round genius was finally indulging. It wasn’t something she did often – in fact she
couldn’t remember the last time she was anywhere close. Though, to be honest this was the most time she had spent on her home planet in more than two months.
So how did she spend her downtime after what seemed like one arduous and terrifying mission after another? Well … usually she’d be on her bike, in her lab or occasionally in San Diego having awkward conversations with her brother.
Not this time. This time she was sitting in front of her television with a very large box of chocolates in front of her and a glass of red wine. That’s right – Major Samantha Carter was wallowing. She watched absently as Colin Firth dove into a pond and tried to talk Portuguese, and instead of smiling and imagining Cassie rolling her eyes that Sam would “still have the hots for Mr. Darcy” she was biting her lip and concentrating very hard on a spot just to the right of the TV set. She really should have wondered why she had chosen such a shamelessly romantic film, but couldn’t bring herself to.
She grabbed another chocolate and almost threw it into her mouth, savouring the beautiful taste for the few moments that it lasted – it never lasted long enough. She remembered reading somewhere that chocolate worked as a substitute for love (or was it the other way around...) that it provided the right chemicals to the brain and there you are – instant happily every after.
So it must be easier to just move to a chocolate factory right? No men. Just chocolate.
Then she imagined that life, the one without his jokes (that despite themselves seemed to make her laugh), without his smile, the way he held her tightly just when she needed him, without the way he would lightly touch her arm to remind her that he was there.
“Dammit,” she swore and leapt to her feet – ignoring the wine as it swirled in its glass. She took a deep breath and looked around the living room swearing again. She paused the film and started about cleaning up, taking the wine back to the kitchen and putting it away before moving to her bedroom to get changed. This was pathetic and if Sam Carter was anything, she was never pathetic. She moved on.
Her eyes flickered closed as she pulled the soft sweater over her head and immediately her mind flashed with the images of last night; frenzied kisses, the feeling of his hot fingers as they tugged at her shirt, the way he had leant her into the wall and held her close as he kissed his way from that spot behind her ear down her neck. Just as the prospect of waiting all this time to not even make it back to his bedroom was starting to look like a reality – the phone rang.
He’d answered it of course. She couldn’t blame him, unlike many men she’d been with – the ringing phone could actually have been a life or death situation.
She could still feel the way his hands had stayed on her waist as he greeted whoever it was. He had lightly kissed her forehead before exclaiming “Sara!” and taking a good step backwards. He had looked at her with a look somewhere between confusion and guilt that made Sam straighten her shirt, run her hands through her hair and reach behind for her purse. He was grinning as he spoke and Sam was shocked at how easily he seemed to be talking to his ex-wife. She hadn’t known they were still in contact. “Oh are we still on for tomorrow lunch?” He’d asked, seeming to forget she was even there. She had nodded to him and stepped out the door just as she heard “Of course I’ll be there, I wouldn’t miss it.”
What she hadn’t heard, of course, was him running out of the house calling her name and cursing his own inability to multitask and stupidity.
There was a knock on her door. She shook her head, bringing herself out of the memories of last night and back into the present. As she moved through the house, the knocking got more and more insistent and she immediately knew who it was.
She contemplated, for no more than a second, just ignoring it and pretending she wasn’t home. But then she remembered that this was him and it would be easier to infiltrate Anubis’s private quarters than to pretend she could ignore him. She flung open the door, putting on her best ‘major’ face: “Yes Sir?”
He raised an eyebrow and nodded, “Yeah, I probably deserve that. Can we talk?”
She had to raise an eyebrow (a quite homage to their teammate). But this was Jack O’Neill of the lets just ignore the emotions and bury them in Ne’tu rather than discuss them philosophy, “You want to talk?”
“Please?”
She opened the door just wide enough to let him in, leading him to the kitchen (no need to show him what movie was still paused on the screen, or the chocolate). She leant on the counter and looked up at him, “Okay.”
He nodded and pushed his hands into his pockets, standing stock-still. “Just, hear me out okay? We both know I’m no good at this but …” he looked at her an hung his head, “Just give me a shot.” She found herself nodding and he seemed to smile slightly and went on. “Okay, last night … umm last night when Sara called … we haven’t had the exes talk yet have we?” She shook her head, wondering where the hell he was going with this. If he was going to tell her that he and his ex-wife were going to get back together could he just get on with it please? She didn’t want to drag out the time it took for her heart to shatter thank-you-very-much. “The wedding’s next week, she was just …” he chuckled, “checking I would be there.”
She didn’t feel the physical manifestations of devastation that seemed to happen in books, she didn’t feel faint, there weren’t spots dancing in front of her eyes, she wasn’t forced to lean on the wall as everything crashed around her. But by god she was cold. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to conserve heat, as it seemed every degree had just disappeared from the room. He couldn’t. Married to Sara? Again? “Wedding?” she managed to croak.
He smiled ruefully, “Yeah, next week. She’s been calling a lot lately – half the time to check up on me, the other times to freak out. She’s … nervous.”
“C… congratulations Sir.” She murmured. So what was last night then? A bachelor’s final fondle?
He looked at her; she could almost imagine he looked confused. “Congratulations?”
“Yes Sir,” ahh, there was her voice – strong and confident and completely fake.
“Um … why?”
“You’re getting married, I’m happy for you.”
He seemed to think for a minute before his eyes grew wide and he stepped closer to her. She really should have moved back, to have put some distance between them but she just couldn’t seem to manage it. “You think I’m getting married? Me?” He shook his head, “No! She’s marrying an accountant. He was a very boring accountant but he offered to do my taxes, so he’s a very nice very boring accountant.” He stopped to take a breath before looking at her intently, “And what was last night? A bachelor’s last night of … lechery?”
She shrugged, not quite willing to believe anything just yet. He stepped towards her, arms coming to rest at her elbows as he actually smiled this time. “Sam, how could you think that? I mean … this is me!” She shrugged again, biting her lip. She knew it was stupid now – knew she had completely overreacted.
“I got scared,” she whispered. “I’m –“
He cut her off, looking at her and grinning. “Carter, I’ve waited over eight years to be able to make out with you in a hallway … well okay, that’s only one of the many things I’ve waited for. You really think I’d just forget about that and marry Sara?” He stepped a little closer, now she could feel his warm breath down her neck and leant into him a little, a small bubble of delight growing inside her. “I haven’t loved Sara for a very long time,” he murmured, “We had problems before Charlie and our marriage was never going to survive. I …” He looked at her for a moment, before she saw him straighten his shoulders and stand a little taller, “I care about you Carter…" he lightly cursed before looking again at her closely. "Sam" he said softly, almost testing the name out. "I love you Samantha.”
The fact that he had uttered those words seemed to suddenly hit them both and she finally looked up at him. “You love me?”
He didn’t say anything, but took another step towards her, backing her up against the wall and took her face in his hands. Lightly he kissed the side of her mouth, barely grazing her lips before pulling away. He seemed to check if that was okay and she had to relax, he looked just as nervous as she felt. Sam burst into a brilliant smile and pulled him back to her, crashing her lips to his and holding him close. He ran a hand through her hair, pulling at her shirt and she smiled and pulled away. “Bedroom,” she whispered, “and leave the phone out here.” He grinned and took her hand as she led the way down the hall.
Sara O’Neill’s wedding to Harry Jasper went off without a hitch. The bride’s ex-husband had met her before the ceremony, congratulating her and kissing her lightly on the cheek – getting the really awkward stuff out of the way so that when they met again in the reception line they
could smile and meet as friends.
“Sara,” Jack grinned and kissed her lightly, “You might remember Sam Carter?”
Sara smirked, she definitely remembered the name – Jack had mentioned very few people besides Major Carter. She looked to the blonde next to him and smiled extending her hand, “From that weird day at the hospital,” she said warmly, “It’s nice to finally meet you Major Carter.”
“Congratulations,” Sam said and smiled. She had seen the way Sara looked at Jack and the way she looked at her new husband and Sam couldn’t be worried. “I hope you’ll be very happy.”
Sara’s eyes sparkled and she leant forwards, whispering in her ear, “You too.”
They both turned and smiled to Jack who was looking nothing short of terrified while Harry chuckled. “Worst nightmare yet?” The Groom asked.
“Getting there,” Jack mumbled. Sam took pity on him and entwined her hand in his, “Come on,” she murmured, “time to get cake.”
“Well, if there’s cake”. They waved goodbye to the happy couple and moved into the hall, Jack’s hold on Sam’s hand getting a little tighter at each old acquaintance he spotted. Sam stopped him quickly, leaning up and kissing him on the cheek. “Dance with me Jack,” she whispered in his ear. “Just dance with me.” She knew this was hard for him, there was no use ignoring the ten years he had spent with Sara and Charlie.
He smiled at her and pulled her onto the dance floor, marvelling at how easily she seemed to fit next to him. “Thank you Sam,” he said.
“For what?”
“Being here for me.”
She reached up and kissed him, “Always.”
a279;
Story Notes: written as secret santa for petitestars over on lj :)
Please Review!!! :) se_mcdermott@hotmail.com
Please Review!!! :) se_mcdermott@hotmail.com
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 ]