Title: A Different Time
Author: Lisa Yaeger
E-mail: lisayaeger@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Category: Angst and Sex
Pairings: Sam/Other mostly, implied Sam/Jack
Content Warnings: Graphic sex, mild swearing
Summary: My take on Chimera, Sam's POV.
Season/sequel: Season 7
Spoilers: Chimera (major ones) and The Lost City (minor ones); 100 Days, WoO, AMoT, 1969, 2010, 1st Comm.
Archive: SJD, yes & whoever wants to, just say so
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and places are the property of MGM, Sci-Fi World Gekko Corp and Double Secret productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Status: Apparently spoilers that upset me lead to fic writing. I'm done with it, though.
Author's notes: Not sure where to start with the thanks, but I figured since Denise and Sally Murphy were inspired by things I said, it was my turn. Thanks to Moon for betaing and the support, to Sel for the challenge, to Shaz for the chats, and to Jeannette and Morjana for answering my questions.
Feedback: Greatly appreciated.
Date: 9-5-2003
// indicate a flashback that Sam is having//
*****
He knew.
Of course he knew.
Not that he would ever say anything. He didn't do that sort of thing. *They* didn't do that sort of thing.
Which was the problem.
Well, to be honest, one of many problems.
But she didn't have the luxury of thinking about that now. She rarely had the luxury of thinking about them, which was both a blessing and, well, yet another problem.
Right now the only thing that could occupy Major Carter's brain was the very real prospect that Daniel had stumbled upon a map that could quite possibly lead them to the Lost City. Describing it as a map was a bit of a stretch though. It was in the language of the Ancients, with drawings that even Daniel had a hard time deciphering. It seemed that as soon as he thought he made progress on one section of the text, the corresponding figures would appear contradictory. Frustrating to say the least, and time was running out.
Time.
An interesting concept to be sure. They had traveled into their own past, been sent messages from their own future, looped through it for months, watched it pass mercilessly in slow motion, and yet.... As relative as it was, it measured each action in arbitrary fractions: seconds, minutes, hours, days and years.
Years.
She had gone through well over 30 of them now. Most of them alone, really, since her mom had died. Technically her dad had been there then, but he worked more often than not. Mark was hardly a permanent fixture then or now. And then there was Jonas. For a while it had been nice to be a part of a couple. To look forward to a future with someone. Then, of course, she realized that a future with him would be worse than one by herself. If she had known then that the next 8 years would actually find her very much alone, she wondered if she would have made the same decision to give back the ring.
She would have, of course, but hindsight certainly gave one a new perspective. The passing of time had that effect. It calculated for her that her child-bearing years were mostly behind her, that she was closer to middle age than to her college years, and that gray hairs and wrinkles would appear exponentially from this point forward.
Lovely.
Which brought her mind back to the present moment. Daniel was furiously looking up words: writing, erasing, re-writing. Teal'c was waiting on hand to assist him in the event that he might have relevant information or be able to help with the language. Although that was doubtful. But the waiting around was killing them all. And at least it gave him something worthwhile to do.
Which was what had brought her to the gym. To work off steam. And pass the time. And that's what had brought him here, too, she assumed. It would be vain of her to think that he had wanted to see her. Talk to her. Watch her. Not that she didn't know he did that sometimes. It's just that things were different now. Or rather, had been different. Since Peter.
Part of her mind wondered how he knew exactly. Maybe Daniel said something? Maybe Teal'c? Although she doubted those possibilities very much. Not because she had asked them not to, or maybe precisely because she *hadn't* asked. Gossip on base could have gotten to his ears, but he would have ignored that most likely or made a joke of it to test the truth before assuming.
Which left the only other answer.
He could just tell.
By her smile? Her walk? Her attitude? Or maybe just the vibes that they shared. Surely after seven years, he could tell when she had gotten laid. She could always tell when the reverse was true. He was quieter, gentler, almost apologetic for a few days after. Not that he needed to be sorry. She understood. Jack O'Neill was a man through and through. There were days when she could *smell* his testosterone.
And while she liked to think she was better at hiding her sexual desires, she knew on some level she was only fooling herself. She knew he knew her cycle. Could probably set his watch by it. God knew she marked her calendar. Another month passing by with each cycle unfulfilled. Which sounded so maudlin even in her own head, but dammit, what was wrong with wanting a piece of what "normal" women had? A home. With a family. With a man!
Which brought her to Peter.
God, she had wanted him. From the first time she met him, really. But it had been half-way through *the* night- wining, dining, dancing- that she knew she was going to be one satisfied woman in the morning.
Her eyes flew to the Colonel with that thought. Unwillingly watching sweat drip down the back of his neck as he did stomach crunch after stomach crunch. Faced away from her of course. But she had no doubt he could feel her watch him. So, returning her eyes to the weights in front of her, she concentrated on lifting them one at a time. And then together.
If only controlling her thoughts were as easy as dominating her muscles. And even they had betrayed her that night.
// She had lost complete control from the moment he had walked her up to the door. She remembered vividly him propping open the screen with his body so that she could turn the key in the lock of the heavier frame. The lock stuck in humid weather, and it had been so wet and hot that night. On so many levels.
The candlelight at dinner. The way the material of her dress moved against her thighs on the dance floor. The way the wine burned a path right down inside her. Then the walk home. As his hand brushed hers, as his arm circled her shoulders.
She was fidgeting with the lock, trying to manipulate the key just so... That's when she felt his hand skim the side of her body. Starting at mid-thigh, traveling over her waist line, tracing the side of her breast. He lingered there as her movements faltered. The only sound she could hear was her own blood rushing in her ears.
She shivered. And he knew as well as she did that the night would end the next morning.//
*****
Wrenching her thoughts back to the present. She put the weights down and moved on to the stair climber. At level 9 difficulty. She had to work this off. She knew the Colonel had moved onto the rowing machine, but she didn't dare take a look at him as her mind returned unrelentingly to the night her body wouldn't let her forget.
//The lock gave way and as she unceremoniously pushed it open, she felt his front pushed against her back. And in that moment, any remaining doubts fled. How long had it been since she had actually felt a man hot and hard with desire for her? 'Too long' her body answered as her mind and mouth were consumed by his lips. His tongue.
He kicked the door closed behind him, not bothering to lock it, she noticed. But didn't care. Major Carter, the woman who was careful and controlled, did not exist at this moment. Only Samantha remained. And she was beyond caring who or what saw or heard what was about to happen.
Oh God! His hands were in constant motion. She couldn't decide if he was a leg man or a breast man and decided that perhaps he was a bit of both. Up the outside of her thighs, across her hips, and down the insides. Just missing the part of her that was so desperately crying for attention. Whether on purpose, to drive her insane, or out of some need for approval first, she wasn't sure. He did seem like the polite type, after all. But she wasn't in the mood for niceties, and as his hands forced their way down into her low-cut dress, she decided to give him an unmistakable sign.
Grabbing his ass and pushing their hips together earned her a hard pinch on her left nipple. She briefly tried to calculate the last time a man had done that to her, and abruptly stopped as she heard the fabric on the front of her dress rip and then her right breast was being fondled as well. Definitely a breast man.
Realizing she had neglected him for the most part, although kneading his ass was a pleasurable experience for both of them she hoped, her fingers set to the task of undoing his tie. Unbuttoning his shirt. Clawing his chest. And not gently. She jumped up slightly to wrap her thighs around his waist. Realizing belatedly that her dress had fallen off at some point. Leaving her totally naked except for the heels. She had known all along what she was going to be doing tonight.
He was kissing her eyes, her cheeks, her neck- anywhere he could while still keeping one eye on the path to the bedroom. He didn't really know where it was, but she didn't care if they ended up on her ironing board as long as it held them
Making it to the bed, he set her down while he frantically worked his way out of his shirt and tie. As he reached for his belt, she pushed his hands away. She wanted to see him, all of him. With the determination of the scientist that she was, she undid the buckle, the pants button, the zipper. Grabbing the waist of his pants and underwear at the same time, she pooled them at the bottom of his feet. Looking up at the man before her, a smile lit her face. No one in Colorado Springs had ever seen that look on her before. No one.//
Involuntarily, her neck turned to her CO. Commanding Office. Superior. Chain of Command. All of the reasons why it wasn't him that night in her room. Looking back at the display panel in front of her, she realized she wasn't entirely sorry it hadn't been him. She wondered if he knew that, too.
//His dick was nearly at eye level. Engorged with blood, she saw tints of purples and blues as her mouth descended on the tip, fingers lightly dancing in his curly hair at the base. Brushing over his balls. So tight.
She vaguely became aware of the smell of soap as her lips moved further down his shaft, sucking him deeper inside her mouth. When he couldn't take it anymore, his hands nudged her head closer to his groin while his hips pushed forward. They both moaned as he made contact with the back of her throat.
Sam Carter giving head was not something that happened every day. She wondered if he could tell that, but decided if the salty taste was anything to go by, he either didn't notice or didn't much care. So she wouldn't either.
Slowly releasing him, her eyes opening to take in the view of his now glistening hard-on, he guided her shoulders down to the mattress, losing contact only long enough to kick off his pants and remove his socks and shoes. Then she felt his hands again. Slowly undoing the straps of her high-heeled sandals. His hands felt their way up her calves to the inside of her thighs and then finally-
Ooooooooohhhhhhhhhhh! His fingers barely touching her. Lightly exploring every bit of wet, hypersensitive flesh. She was breathing so hard, so fast, and as he penetrated her with his index finger, she cried out. He withdrew just as quickly, not wanting her to be done quite so fast apparently. But she was so close. The foreplay alone was enough to make her come. Hard. It had been much too long since she had felt anything like this with a man. Frankly, she wasn't sure she could go back to nights with her toys after this.
No time to ponder that as he finished the investigation of her body. Stopping on his way up to blow over her belly button, inducing more shivers and an unintelligible sound, he settled his chest over hers and looked her in the eyes.
A million thoughts raced through her mind: Was he clean? Had she remembered to take her pill regularly that month? Was he going to be any good? Did it even matter? He was there, and right now, that was all that counted.
Reaching down between them, she led him inside her and watched as he closed his eyes in pure pleasure. She reveled in the feelings that consumed her at that moment. Sexual. Sensual. Womanly. Fulfillment. A welcome combination. A welcome change.
And then he started moving. Slowly. Very slowly. Oh, he was doing this on purpose for sure. He could obviously tell how tight she was. The suction created inside her body was driving them both mad. And fast. He didn't need to touch her clit, he just lowered his head to her shoulder and increased the pace. Little by little. Wordlessly encouraging her climax while insuring his own.//
Three beeps on the stair climber jerked her thoughts back to the gym. She had passed the 30 minutes pre-programmed for the level. She added 20 more while the Colonel moved onto the treadmill. Why he insisted on torturing his knees on that thing, she would never know. But he did it nearly every day. Probably just to prove, if only to himself, that he still could.
//It could have been one minute, it might have been ten, but as her breathing became labored, and her exhales changed into whimpers and moans, he started pounding her. Every inch of him slammed as far into her as he could reach. Sweat from his chest covered her own. And then it was too much.
Her muscles contracted, hips jerked. Her eyes closed tightly, her voice cried out. She was only vaguely aware of his grunt. His pulses throbbing in rhythm with her own.
The sounds of the night disappeared into the light of the morning.//
//Two feelings warred for dominance as her eyes opened the next morning: she felt good, and she didn't feel badly. The first was easier to reconcile given the previous night with her new lover. The *only* lover in nearly a decade. Much too long for a woman as strong and vivacious as Samantha. A woman who didn't get the chance to live outside the confines of Major Carter very often. A woman that was about to start pushing the boundaries of the life she had led heretofore. A woman ready to break free.
The second thought took a little more energy as she turned her head to see Peter stretched out on the left side of the mattress. One arm on his stomach, the other hanging off the side. She might need a bigger bed if this kept up. As his chest moved up and down steadily, she realized she was surprised at her lack of guilt. She always assumed that, if this were ever to happen while certain feelings for a certain someone remained unresolved, that she would at least feel a twinge. A pang. A tightening in her gut.
But nothing remotely akin to regret or guilt or remorse filled her heart. She was happy. Really and truly happy. For one of the few times in her adult life, nothing was missing, nothing was strained. Pictures of Sunday mornings spent in bed with coffee and the paper filled her thoughts. Things like eating out, going to the movies, shopping for groceries together, could be commonplace occurrences in her life. Was she was as excited by the change in her circumstances as by the man lying next to her?
That was part of it, for sure. She had lost a lot for someone her age: friends, family, occasionally even hope. Maybe a small piece of her soul here and there as well. Certainly peace of mind had gotten lost in the equation after Anubis became a permanent fixture in their lives.
But that wasn't all of it, and she wouldn't demean what she experienced with and felt for the man beside her. He was funny and cute. Younger. Strong. A happy guy who was easy to be around. No dark corners in his past, no hidden agendas. Just normal. And great in bed, as it turned out. Always a bonus.
And clever, too. She was so absorbed in her own musings that she missed him rolling closer to her. His hand resting on her stomach which caused not a little tension just below. As his now stubbly face brushed against her shoulder, she turned her head to meet his lips.
"What a way to wake up." He murmured between kisses.
"What a way to fall asleep." Her hands traced his arm muscles. Very nice.
"Have I ever told you how much I enjoy morning naps preceded by vigorous activity?" His lips inched slowly down her body. His hand stayed right where it had been, pushing down a bit more firmly now. She wasn't going anywhere soon.//
Twenty minutes were up, and she was out of breath. 'Not just from the exercise either,' she smiled inwardly. As she stepped down from the pedals, she nearly ran into the Colonel who had finished the treadmill at the same time.
Their eyes met, but he went first.
"Carter."
"Colonel."
Polite. Slightly strained. Nothing anyone would ever pick up on. Well, maybe Teal'c. But he would never speak of it.
He brushed past her shoulder and *damn* if she didn't feel the strongest sense of déjà vu.
Tan shirt. Pained look. Innocent third party.
Betrayal. The word that fit neither situation refused to leave her mind. He had no more betrayed her then, unaware of her (or his!) feelings at the time, than she had him now, realizing that they were still in an impossible situation. And yet... No other word fit the emotion.
She stood there for a minute, neither noticing nor caring if she was the object of stares or whispers. She was so beyond that at this point. At least Peter had done that for her. Stopped the rumors, present since her first day, about her feelings for her CO. And vice versa. As the years wore on she had assumed they would stop, or at least become less frequent, less intense. Rather they had just morphed to fit whatever predicament SG-1 happened to find themselves in at the time. In Antarctica. In Hell. On any number of ships. Jonah and Thera. Nirrti's prison. She was quite impressed at times with the fiction her colleagues were capable of.
Heading toward the showers, her exhausted body and mind wrapped up the sequence of events from the morning she had shared with Peter.
//Stepping out of the shower first, he grabbed two towels from the shelf and handed one back to her. She smiled warmly as his fingers lingered at her cleavage line while he tugged the towel tightly around her. Oh yeah, breast man for sure. He then turned his back to her to dry off more thoroughly. She just stood, still in the tub, watching his movements. Thrilled beyond words that a man was familiar with her body. Intimately. The last time she recalled three orgasms in twenty-four hours, a new set of batteries were in order. And this had been much, much better.
Then things turned much, much worse. The phone rang. She was needed at the mountain. He couldn't understand how anything related to deep space radar telemetry required working on the weekend or could possible be classified as urgent. They hadn't argued. It hadn't even been tense, really. Just a little awkward as he had expected her to say more. And she had wanted to. Desperately. To keep the façade of normalcy in her life. To keep *him* in her life. But she couldn't. And he had said he understood.
And she had believed him.
Three days passed for her off-world. Her thoughts turned to him regularly during the mission, and she wondered, hoped, he was doing the same in her absence.
As it turned out, Daniel's latest interpretation had led them on a wild goose chase to some planet that couldn't have contained a Lost City by any stretch. It was flat. No water source. No plant life. Nothing. They did tests and more tests just to be sure, but by the fourth day, everyone- scientists, military, Hammond, even Daniel- had to admit it wasn't here.
Back to the drawing board.
But in the meantime, Peter had apparently taken it upon himself to investigate exactly what it was that his lover did for a living. *Really* did.
So, as she stepped back through the gate looking forward to returning to her new, normal life, Hammond asked to see her in his office. Alone.
He succinctly told her that a man named Peter Shannon had attempted to infiltrate the Complex claiming to be looking for his friend, Major Samantha Carter. While climbing over an electrically charged section of fence, he not only managed to get mildly shocked but also fell and twisted his right arm in the process. He was currently in the infirmary for "observation."
Hammond was clearly waiting for her confirm that the man was someone she knew. The tone of his voice told her that he had understood the meaning of the word "friend" as Peter described her, and he needed to hear her say that Peter was unaware of her true position in the Air Force. That this kind of thing wouldn't happen again. She also saw the apology in his eyes. The rest of her team was in the infirmary now getting their post-mission physicals. If the gossip hadn't found them first, the man himself would greet them.
Damn.
Major Carter returned at that moment, and Samantha didn't stand a chance. She looked the General in the eyes and told him that in no uncertain terms would anything like this ever happen again. That her association with Mr. Shannon was a warm friendship, spurred on in part by the fact that he was an acquaintance of her brother's. She explained that he had been visiting town on business when the call of Daniel's "discovery" had come through, and he was apparently more intrigued than she had realized in her line of work. She apologized for not giving it more consideration, as he was, after all, a detective. She thanked the General for allowing her to take Peter back to his hotel so that he might rest more comfortably. She repeated maybe two or three times that he would be returning to Denver shortly as there was no longer a reason for him to stay in the Springs.
The case he had been working on was now closed.
By the time she made it to the infirmary, her teammates had cleared out. Peter expressed delight at meeting them, although she could see the wariness in his eyes. What man wouldn't be cautious of three men that looked like that?
She escorted him from the mountain, stopping briefly in her quarters to change (she had made him wait outside which earned her an odd look from him), up the elevator and into the parking lot. As she went around to open his door, he put his left hand on her right. As if in apology, while not actually offering one. The look she gave him returned the sentiment.
Not a word was spoken as they drove to his hotel. She knew he wouldn't believe what she could tell him, and he knew she wouldn't tell him anything but what he couldn't believe. It wasn't in his nature to leave mysteries unsolved. And very little about her life wasn't mysterious. Although for a few fleeting days, it had appeared less so. And that was worth a little embarrassment, a few rumors, and a difficult explanation or two. *He* was worth it.
The car stopped at the entrance. She didn't ask if he needed help. It would be too difficult to walk him up and then leave again. She wasn't sure she could. So instead, she offered him a smile, which he kissed tenderly. And then he was gone.//
She rounded the corner to Daniel's office and heard the voices of the three men that she would recognize on any planet. The men that wouldn't leave her, no matter what. Her family for all intents and purposes. She realized that she had been partly wrong in her earlier assessment of her adult life. She hadn't been alone at all since joining the SGC. Which wasn't to say that at times she didn't feel lonely. Didn't want companionship. And love. Just like everyone else. But she had never truly been alone in these past 7 years.
And so just as she heard her CO's voice say "Daniel" in that tone that she knew so well- the one that said quit rambling and tell me what I need to know *now*- she stopped just outside the door. Listening for the familiar. For the reassurance that, while things felt a little different, they were basically the same. That she was still the same woman, happier in some ways, more sad in others. That they were still her family, friends and co-workers who would support her even if it made things a bit awkward for awhile.
Then she heard Daniel say "Jack" in the tone that said I'm-getting- to-the-point-would-you-just-let-me-finish?? She chuckled under her breath as she imagined Teal'c's jaw setting, his eyes glazing over, and the sigh that she knew he was biting back. Shaking her head, she entered the room, and Daniel was the first to notice.
"Sam, will you explain to Jack that even though the first portion of the text didn't lead us exactly where we thought, that it doesn't mean we should give up the entire-"
"Whoa! I didn't say we should give up the entire thing, I'm just saying-"
"Can you let me *finish* a sentence?"
"Do you speak in sentences that ever *end*?"
"Stop! Both of you." She was both amused and exasperated by the exchange. Comfortingly familiar and yet still annoying. "Sir, it's late. Daniel should get some rest and pick up with the next section again tomorrow." She turned her body to the one rational, thankfully silent, member of the team, "Teal'c, would you make sure Daniel gets some dinner and then goes to bed?"
"As you wish Major Carter." Damn if that wasn't a smile playing on his lips.
Swinging her body back toward the desk, "Colonel, we should head home. Once Daniel gets this thing sorted out, we may not have much time to ourselves for awhile. I'm sure there are things you need to do." She started walking toward the door, still talking, encouraging him to follow, "Simpsons episodes to tape. Old hockey games to watch. The lawn probably needs mowing-"
With a nod to Daniel and Teal'c, he followed her out of the office.
"You know, you're getting pretty good at this command stuff." He was watching for a reaction as they matched strides down the empty corridor.
"I'll try not to let it go to my head, Sir." She smirked, as she knew he wanted. It was what she felt like doing anyway, so no harm done.
"The day's not far off you know."
Her own command. The thing she had been working toward for years. The thing she was being groomed for. The position that once had seemed so important to her had recently been re-ranked on her list of priorities. Not that she still didn't want it. And badly. But it wouldn't come at the cost of other things anymore. If another Peter came along someday soon, she might not let him go so easily. At least not for the sake of her career.
He pushed the elevator button, and they waited in silence. A little uncomfortable, but nothing they couldn't work through. Nothing that time wouldn't take care of.
So as the elevator arrived and the doors opened to allow access to an empty cab, she was surprised when he said what was possibly the last thing she ever expected him to say.
"Does he make you happy?"
Her eyes flew to his face expecting to see his gaze directed to the floor or the ceiling. But he wasn't avoiding this. It was apparently too important. He was staring right back.
"He did."
"Did?" Barely more than a whisper. Was he even breathing?
"Things didn't work out." It still hurt to say, and she felt her face fall a little.
His gaze turned toward the digital numbers on the elevator pad. Counting upward. They had almost reached ground level when he said, "I'm sorry."
And he meant it. She could certainly tell when he was being sincere. God knew it didn't happen very often, but when it did, she could tell. She nodded her understanding and waited for the ride to end.
Stepping out into the parking lot, the last rays of the sunset barely visible, they reached her car first. And for the second time that night, he caught her completely off guard. "I was surprised."
She turned to face him. Not having anything to respond with, she just waited.
"Not because I didn't think you would find someone, or because you shouldn't..." He trailed off, the words of the moment having left him.
"It just kind of happened, really. And now it's over." So simple an explanation, but her heart still lurched in her chest as she said it. It was too raw, too soon to move on.
If she expected him to say anything more, then she was disappointed. He had revealed all he would for the night. Probably for awhile if she knew him at all. And she did. In some ways, she knew more than she wanted to. In others, she had barely scratched the surface.
He fixed his eyes on her one last time, "Goodnight, Carter."
"Goodnight, Sir." And she turned the key in her car door as she heard him walk away. A vastly different ending to a very different night with a completely different man.
But some things remained the same.
*****