One would think that almost an entire decade comprised of underwhelming first dates and a string of kinda-sorta boyfriends of the alien persuasion would have made Samantha Carter a very patient woman. And it did. Just not *this* patient.
Glancing over to her left, Sam studied the profile of the man beside her. From the way his eyes were darting around, she could tell he was busy surveying the line of people who had assembled in front of the theater to wait for the show before theirs to let out. And as he scanned the face of every man, woman, and child around them, she just *knew* he was running a mental check of whether that person worked in the SGC, was acquainted with someone who worked in the SGC, or even had an inkling what 'SGC' stood for.
Not even Mother Teresa had the amount of patience required to deal with an overprotective and ridiculously paranoid Jack O'Neill.
So Sam did what any self-respecting, mildly frustrated woman would do: she grabbed hold of his right hand and pulled up close to his side with the intent of distracting him.
And it worked.
Tearing his eyes away from the throng of moviegoers surrounding him, Jack flashed her a bright smile and gave her hand a tight squeeze. He brushed away a non-existent strand of hair from her cheek -- his warm fingertips setting aflame her cool skin -- and dropped a light kiss against her lips. Her eyes twinkled in response and--
His hand fell limp and Sam was suddenly left feeling as if she was holding hands with a five-year-old boy who was afraid of catching her 'cooties'.
She released her hold on him and frowned very, very sternly, but neither action fazed Jack. He'd apparently returned to his default action of late whenever they were out in public, which involved ignoring her while paying attention to everyone else around them.
"You know, Thor's held my hand more intimately than that before," Sam managed to say without growling.
"Quite the lady's man, is he?" Jack replied with a smirk, his gaze settling back on her. "Always knew the little guy had it in him."
"Jack ..." she began, her tone tinged with her frustration.
"Carter ..." he mimicked.
His continued inability to use her first name pushed Sam past her breaking point. "Jack!" She crossed her arms and sighed, shooting him a searing glare. "I'm trying to be serious here."
Immediately recognizing that he'd, once again, screwed up, he smothered his cocky smile and rearranged his face into an expression of contrition. "C'mon, Carter. You know I was--"
"No, Jack." She shrugged off the hand he'd been attempting to lay on her shoulder and continued to stare him down with her I'm-a-colonel- and-you-just-seriously-screwed-up-cadet glare. "This has to stop. We're not doing anything wrong."
Crossing his own arms, Jack rolled back onto his heels and donned *his* version of the I'm-a-colonel-and-you-just-seriously-screwed-up- cadet glare. Sure he was technically no longer military these days, but it wasn't a look one forgot how to wear. "I really don't know what you're--"
"Looking over your shoulder? Looking over my shoulder? Looking over *everyone's* shoulders to make sure no one from the SGC has seen us together? None of this is ringing a--"
"Carter!" Jack sprang to attention, almost as if he'd been shocked, and waved his hands in front of his face. "Shhh! Ixnay on the SGCay," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth as he propelled her towards a more deserted area of the sidewalk. "We're in public."
Sam stared at him, completely dumbfounded and blinking out her disbelief. "*Please* tell me you're trying to make a joke."
"Carter, we can't be too--"
"Sam!" she whispered forcefully as she threw up her arms. "My first name's Sam and you *know* it's okay to call me that now."
Taken aback by Sam's outburst, Jack took a step backwards and looked a bit lost as he stared down at his hands. "Car -- Sam -- I ... I ... Whoa."
"I'm forty years old, Jack. That means I'm too old to be worrying about whether people are talking about me and my boyfriend behind my back."
Jack's face grew noticeably serious. "You're forty?" he asked in mock surprise, breaking out into a smile when he successfully sidestepped the slap Sam attempted to hit his arm with.
"You're a regular riot, O'Neill. You know that?" she asked dryly, her face devoid of any amusement.
"Hey, what's with this 'O'Neill' business? Whatever happened to speaking to a colonel with the level of respect that position deserves?"
"Well ..." Sam's lips curved upwards into a devious grin. "You're not the only colonel in this pair nowadays, so ..."
"And you just love reminding me of that, don't you?" Jack groused, sneaking a quick peek at the man who'd been occupying the periphery of his vision and had wandered a *bit* too close to him and Sam for comfort.
"You have to admit 'Colonel Carter' has a certain ring to it." She waggled her eyebrows and stretched her lips into a huge smile, which then disappeared when she realized that Jack's attention was no longer on her. "Jack!" This time her slap connected with his arm.
"Ouch! What?" He rubbed his abused forearm and looked chagrined. "I can't help it. I ... I'm not going to put your career at risk so I can cop a feel of you in public."
Sam's eyebrows shot up. "'Cop a feel'?"
"Cop a feel. Kiss. Whatever."
Chuckling, Sam closed the space between them and placed her hands on his shoulders, choosing to ignore how his muscles clenched beneath her touch. "You're not putting my career at risk. No one's talking about us. I swear."
"Maybe they're a little slow," Jack grumbled, his mouth still set in a frown.
She rolled her eyes at his stubbornness and hid her smile behind a hand. "They're not slow, Jack. No one's talking because ... we're not doing anything wrong. As a happily retired man who's happily collecting his retirement benefits, you're not exactly still part of the SG--"
"Ah-ah-ah!" His index finger flew up and silenced her before she was able to finish her sentence.
Narrowing her eyes, Sam strained to ignore the snide comment running through her head and instead repeated, "You're not exactly still part of ..."
"The baseball team," Jack finished, his face a mask of utter seriousness.
She dropped her head at the suggestion and moaned before regaining her resolve and mumbling, "Since you're now retired, you're no longer part of the ... baseball team."
"Oh, but I am. As, you know, a ... sitting-on-the-bench, experienced player who is sometimes called on to ... occasionally ..." His hands twirled around his sides as he fought to make his euphemism work. "Well, save the game and ... Oh, all right. I'm still on the payroll as a civilian consultant. Happy?"
"Overwhelmed. But my point was, now that you're no longer military, we're not breaking any regulations. And that leads to no gossip -- at least about us -- and *that* means no one's career's at risk."
"I know, but ..." He exhaled loudly and looked out into the distance. Sam hated the concern that remained camped out across his face. "People are going to talk. That's what they do. They'll wonder when we 'really' got together, and then it'll be how and when, and the next thing you know, we'll have some kid stashed on Abydos that Kasuf's been raising for us for the past five years."
Sam swallowed the laugh that had been scratching the back of her throat. "You have an amazing imagination, Jack O'Neill. Anyone ever tell you that?"
"Actually, yes. Sara always said that was why Charlie and I got along so well." Jack wrinkled his nose and pretended to be put out by the old comment, but Sam could tell he still took pride from the close relationship he'd had with his son.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she leaned in close -- this time choosing to ignore the look of panic that spread across his face -- until their foreheads almost touched. "If people want to talk, then let them talk. I'm a big girl. I can handle it."
"But that's *my* point." Jack disentangled her hands from around his neck and held them firmly in his. There was no doubt he had returned to commanding officer mode. "Now that Hammond's made you the new leader of SG -- the home team --, your workload's practically off the charts. Don't even bother to deny it," he quickly asserted when he saw her open her mouth to protest. "That used to be my job, so I know exactly how much work it is. And when you add all that to everything you already do every day to keep the gate working, then ... well ... You do so much, Carter, that I ... I don't want an ... 'us' to hold you back from ... you know ... stuff. You deserve."
The fear and sadness that permeated Jack's voice made Sam gnaw on her lower lip and sigh as she wiggled her hands free from his grasp. "But no one's talking about us, Jack. We just went through this."
"So we're talking in circles again?"
"It's apparently what we do best."
They lapsed into silence, with the sound of their feet shuffling forward every few seconds being the only noise they heard as the theater opened its doors for current ticket holders.
"So ..." Jack began, shoving and then removing his hands from his pants pockets.
"So ..."
"We're probably never going to resolve this, huh? I mean, I'm always gonna worry about people talking behind your back if they see us together."
"Well ..." Sam cocked her head to the side, her forehead creased in concentration. "Okay, how about this? If I hear anything about the rumor mill grinding because of us, then I'll send Teal'c after the gossipmongers. That work for you, Colonel?"
Jack considered the solution for a moment, a smile growing on his lips as he recollected how Teal'c's biceps grew exponentially larger with each passing year he spent on tretonin. "That might just work ... As long as you promise I get to be there when Teal'c goes after them."
"Deal."
"Sweet!" And with that, Jack slipped an arm around Sam's waist and sealed their agreement with a proverbial kiss. And then ano--
"Ohmigod. How gross is *that*?! Old people like that just shouldn't be allowed to kiss. I mean, that's just *nasty*!"
"I know! And that guy's, like, *really* old, too! He's got a ton of gray hair."
Sam's mouth curved upward against Jack's deadened lips as the very loud, very teenaged voices from across the street interrupted their smooch.
"You've *got* to be kidding me," Jack muttered, instinctively inserting a ridiculous amount of space between him and Sam.
"Feeling a little cranky there?" Sam teased with a mischievous wink. "Maybe it's time we got you back to the retirement home."
"Hey! I'm not the only one they called old, Carter."
"But they did mention your gray hair specifically."
"All right, that's it. We're never leaving the house again," Jack continued to gripe, scowling deeply.
"Fine by me," Sam purred as she linked her left fingers with his right ones. "Movies are overrated, anyway."
"You bet your ass they are." His voice was still bitter, but he squeezed her hand and didn't loosen his grip as he kept his eyes focused on her, and her alone.
-the end-
Story Notes: Season/Spoilers: Future, no spoilers.
Notes: The wienerdogs made me do it, and I'm sticking with that story! Apparently this was supposed to have taken place during a mission, but the mission requirement flew right over my head. So, if need be, I guess you could say Jack and Sam are on a "mission" to see a movie. ;) And hippo-sized smooches to nanda and Mai for reading/betaing this fic not once, not twice, but THREE times. Dude, I so suck sometimes. But thanks, ladies!
Notes: The wienerdogs made me do it, and I'm sticking with that story! Apparently this was supposed to have taken place during a mission, but the mission requirement flew right over my head. So, if need be, I guess you could say Jack and Sam are on a "mission" to see a movie. ;) And hippo-sized smooches to nanda and Mai for reading/betaing this fic not once, not twice, but THREE times. Dude, I so suck sometimes. But thanks, ladies!
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 ]