Title: Appropriate Attire
Author: Sue Corkill
Email: mscorkill@earthlink.net
Category: Sam & Jack/PWP/AU
Status: Complete
Rating: NC-17
Content Warning: Explicit sex
Season/Sequel info: Season Eight
Spoilers: Affinity, Endgame
Archive: Heliopolis, SJHW, SJD
Summary: General O'Neill has issues with Colonel Carter's choice of wardrobe.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and places are the property of MGM, 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.
Feedback: Cheerfully accepted.
Author's notes: Sam's outfit in 'Endgame' inspired this little PWP, encouraged by the peeps in chat. Thanks to Linz, Becca, Andrew and Siobahn for their suggestions. Many thanks to Linz for the beta. Oh, and in this reality, Sam gave back the engagement ring. ;-)
Copyright © M. Susan Corkill, October 2004.
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APPROPRIATE ATTIRE
Sam nodded at the SF and started to pass through the final checkpoint when he gave her an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Colonel Carter. General O'Neill wants you to report to his office ASAP."
Sam frowned. They'd been cleared by medical and the official debriefing wasn't until tomorrow. All she wanted was to go home and take a long, hot bath and just relax. Her shoulders and arms ached from being tied up so long and she had bruises she didn't even want to think about, thanks to that final fight. Surely whatever he wanted could wait until morning?
She was momentarily tempted to just ignore the SF, but common sense prevailed. It wouldn't do for the leader of SG-1 to just ignore an order from the General. With any luck, she'd be on her way again in no time.
"Thanks, Jensen."
"Yes, ma'am," he saluted.
Sam gave him a perfunctory salute in reply and turned, retracing her steps back into the bowels of the SGC. Five minutes later, she knocked on General O'Neill's closed office door.
"Come."
Sam opened the door and stepped into the office, closing the door behind her. O'Neill had an open laptop on the desk in front of him and didn't look up when she came in.
After several long minutes, he finally acknowledged her. "Colonel Carter."
The tone of his voice and the look in his eyes had her stiffening to attention. "Yes, sir."
He sat back in his chair, closing the laptop, his expression unreadable. She had to stop herself from squirming while his eyes roamed up and down her body. "You're out of uniform, Colonel." His voice was deceptively calm, but she could sense the fury behind his quiet words.
"I was working semi-undercover-"
He stood then, cutting her off. "I didn't ask for an explanation, airman," he snapped. "Your current attire is not in keeping with a Colonel in the Air Force, or the team leader of SG-1."
She could feel a slow flush start on her cheeks and she somehow managed to utter, "Yes, sir." She didn't know what else to say, taken totally off-guard by his abrupt manner.
"Undercover or not, that..." his eyes roved boldly over her torso, "...top is hardly the appropriate attire to wear when working in an official capacity."
Anger began to supercede her embarrassment at being reprimanded by her commanding officer. The insolent look in his eyes was hardly an 'appropriate' one for a superior officer to have toward a female subordinate. She had about had it with his whole attitude since they'd returned.
"I'm sorry my 'attire' doesn't meet with your approval, General. I must have missed the regulation that covered 'appropriate attire' for recovering our stolen Stargate!"
"Colonel."
Sam ignored the warning in his voice. "Which we did, only to find out that we were only milliseconds away from being blasted out of space by the Prometheus."
"I will not have you questioning my decisions, Colonel. Not about what did or didn't happen with the Alkesh or the consequences of your poor wardrobe choices." He sat back down and opened the laptop up. "Dismissed."
"What?" she sputtered, fury filling her, only to be interrupted by him again.
"I said, 'dismissed', Colonel. Or has your hearing disappeared along with your common sense?"
That was it; she wasn't going to take this kind of crap from him, even if he was the base commander and could have her busted out of the SGC and scrubbing toilets in Alaska. Before her 'common sense' could prevail, Sam's hand went to the zipper at her throat. "If my jacket offends you so much," she growled and yanked the zipper down. "Then here!" She stripped the snug top off and tossed it at him. His arms flew up wildly to deflect it. "I won't offend your precious sensibilities anymore."
Without waiting for a response, she rushed out of the office, slamming the door behind her. The sudden rush of the cooler hallway air over her exposed skin forcibly reminded her that the only thing she wore now was her black sports bra and jeans. "Shit," she muttered, trying to figure out the quickest and least traveled way back to the locker room or her lab.
She took a few tentative steps down the hallway and peered around the corner. Someone was approaching.
"Daniel, thank god," she said in relief, when she recognized him. In spite of her bravado in the General's office, she really didn't want to parade around the base half dressed.
He looked up from the papers in his hand as he walked up to her, a perplexed look crossing his face. "Ah, Sam?" He gestured with the folder. "What's up?"
"Nothing, Daniel. Just give me your jacket, okay?"
"Ah, sure," he said, handing her the folder and shrugging out of his green BDU shirt.
"Thanks," she muttered, papers and jacket shuffling back and forth, before she was pulling the shirt on and buttoning it up. It was too big, the sleeves hanging over her hands, but she couldn't be too picky.
"So, care to explain?" Daniel asked.
"The General didn't like my 'attire'," she commented dryly, rolling back the cuffs.
"Ah, I see," he commented, a slight smile touching his lips.
"Well, I'm glad you do, because I sure don't."
"Come on, Sam. You've got to admit, you normally don't wear clothing like that when you're on a mission."
"That's because we're usually off-world, Daniel. And besides, I was undercover." He raised his eyebrows. "Okay, not officially, but I would have looked more out of placed dressed in BDU's than in that top and slacks!"
She started down the hallway, away from O'Neill's office, Daniel falling into step beside her. "Besides, it was comfortable and practical," she added, not sure now if she was trying to convince herself or Daniel. The General's words still stung and she was starting to second-guess her decision to wear the leather top. Mind you, second-guessing had become a habit of hers ever since her decision to return Pete's ring.
They reached an intersection and Daniel stopped, looking around. "I think I was going the other direction."
Sam smiled. "Thanks for lending me the shirt, Daniel. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Anytime," he grinned at her, but then his expression turned serious. "Just...cut him some slack, Sam? It hasn't been easy for him, staying here while we go 'out there'," he gestured toward the ceiling with one hand.
"I know, Daniel. And I will." He nodded and turned back up the corridor, his head once more bent over his handful of papers. Sam watched him for a moment and wondered if she really did understand Jack anymore. She hardly ever saw him; they never talked unless it was about an upcoming mission. And even when she had tried to talk to him about Pete's proposal, he had been vague and less than forthcoming with any kind of advice-or comments. And he hadn't even shown any interest in what her final decision had been.
She walked slowly toward the elevator, lost in thought. Now that he was the base commander and no longer a part of SG-1, she could feel him slipping further and further away. And while she knew his position as their commander, to a certain degree, isolated him from those he commanded, she had hoped that SG-1 would still be a part of his inner circle. Sighing, she pushed the up button. And maybe Daniel was still someone he let get close, but she had been pushed to the periphery and this last encounter merely reinforced that. She knew she needed to apologize, but she'd wait until tomorrow, when she was calmer. And hopefully he would have calmed down too, and she wouldn't find herself in even worse trouble than she was now.
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Daniel knocked on the office door, mildly intrigued by what he might find inside. He chuckled; he'd never seen Sam quite like that before. Jack must've really pissed her off.
"Come."
Daniel opened the door, stepping inside. A quick look around the office established that Jack was sitting at his desk, open laptop before him. And Sam's leather top was neatly folded on the credenza behind him. Daniel didn't say anything, just stood there and grinned at his friend, waiting until he finally looked up.
"Yes, Daniel. I'm busy. What can I do for you?"
"I have that report you wanted." Daniel handed the sheaf of papers to Jack.
"Thanks," Jack muttered, snatching them out of his hand.
Daniel sat down. "How are you?"
He looked up from the papers, a look of irritation on his face. "How am I, Daniel?" Daniel watched calmly as Jack dropped the papers on his desk, his patented look of patronizing annoyance firmly in place. "I'm fine. A little tired, but then if people would leave me alone and let me finish my work, I could go home and get some sleep."
Daniel nodded slowly and then commented, "So...I saw Sam."
Jack's eyes immediately became shuttered. "Yes?"
"She said you didn't like what she was wearing."
"That's not what I said, Daniel. I said it wasn't appropriate for her to wear on a mission."
"She left it here, I see," Daniel added, gesturing toward the credenza.
"Yeah," Jack said slowly, as if just realizing she had left his office half-naked.
"Don't worry, I gave her my shirt."
"Ah."
"You need to cut her some slack, Jack."
"I'm not here to cut her some 'slack', Daniel," Jack interrupted. "I'm here to make sure she gets her job done."
Daniel just ignored him and continued. "It hasn't been easy for her, taking over the command of SG-1, breaking up with Pete."
Jack went very still. "She broke up with Shanahan?"
"Yeah, gave him back the ring." Daniel eyed him curiously. "You did know about that, didn't you?"
"Of course," he responded, just a little too quickly.
Daniel didn't believe him for a minute, but his mission here was accomplished. He stood up then and put a hand on the doorknob. "It hasn't been easy for her, Jack. Going out there, while you stay here." And with those parting words, he left the room.
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Sam took a sip of the Chardonnay, enjoying the crisp and fruity taste. She was finally starting to relax, though every time she caught a glimpse of Daniel's green BDU shirt draped over chair in her bedroom, she got pissed again. Setting the wineglass down, she finished toweling off and pulled on her comfy pajamas. The bath had been wonderful and now all she intended to do was finish her wine and read a little before going to bed. She was going to ignore anything to do with her job-and a certain General. To that end, she grabbed the offensive jacket and hung it in the closet. There, no reminders of General O'Neill's high-handed and totally out-of-line behavior.
Of course, the unwelcome thought nudged at her; she had acted equally out-of-line. God, what had possessed her to strip like that in front of him? And then throw her top at him? As much as she might think he owed her for all the years they were on SG-1 together, he was the base commander now. And just because she harbored almost eight years of unrequited love for the man, didn't mean she could behave like that. Besides, for all he knew-or apparently cared-she was engaged to someone else.
Eyeing herself in the dresser mirror, Sam ran a brush through her hair and took another sip of wine, emptying the glass. Deciding one more glass wouldn't hurt; she made her way to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, she had just poured a second glass, when the doorbell rang. She glanced at the clock, it was after 2100 and she wondered who on earth would be coming to see her so late. The doorbell chimed again and she set the wine down, quickly detouring to her bedroom to grab her robe. She reached the front door just as the doorbell rang again.
Sam peered through the peek hole and saw the impatient face of her commanding officer. Opening the door quickly, she barely had time to gasp a confused, "Sir?" before he was pushing his way in. "What?" she asked, too bewildered to be concerned when he kicked the door shut behind him and crowded her up against the foyer wall.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he growled.
"What?" she asked, anxiety filling her as she looked at him. She couldn't read his expression and his behavior was starting to frighten her.
She felt a frisson of alarm when he planted his hands on both sides of her head, bracketing her in, and then pressing his body firmly against hers. She grabbed at the lapels of his leather jacket, intent on pushing him away, but he moved faster and caught her wrists, pinning her hands to the wall. She knew she was starting to breathe too fast, her chest rising and falling raggedly against his, the thin cotton of her pajamas and robe doing little to protect her from the hard impressions of his body against hers.
Sam squirmed a little; trying to ease the pressure but he merely grunted and nudged her legs apart, sliding his thigh between her legs. She quickly stopped moving when she felt his arousal pressing against her and repeated as calmly as she could, "Tell you what?"
"That you had broken up with him."
It took the briefest of moments for his words to sink in and for her synapses to make the appropriate connections. And when they did, she felt her fear slip away and the ever-familiar longing take its place. "I didn't think you'd care," she admitted breathlessly.
"You were wrong," he rumbled. His eyes were so dark with desire, they were almost black and Sam wondered if maybe she shouldn't still be frightened of him, when he lowered his mouth to hers.
His mouth was hard and demanding, and she felt herself helplessly responding to the hunger that matched her own. She whimpered slightly when he nipped at her lower lip, but opened her mouth to his silent command. His tongue swept voraciously into her mouth and she welcomed the invasion, stroking his tongue with hers, as eager for his taste as he was for hers.
"Jack," she protested, straining against his restraining hands when he tore his mouth away, sharp teeth nipping at the tender skin of her neck. He released her wrists and she quickly wrapped her arms around him, shivering in pleasure when she felt one large hand worked its way under her clothing and began fondling her breasts. "Yes," she encouraged him, tugging at his jacket until he impatiently threw it off. And then she was pulling at the hem of his shirt, until she could finally caress the smooth skin of his back.
He groaned, his breath hot against her ear, his hips moving insistently against hers. Widening her stance she moaned herself when he pressed his pelvis into full contact with hers. His hand left her breasts and she felt both of them at the waist of her pajama bottoms, tugging on the string and when she felt it give, she wriggled her hips, feeling them drop to her ankles. He was coolly efficiently as he stripped of her robe and pajama top and then she was back in his arms. The wall was cold against her exposed backside, but then all she could feel was the heat emanating from Jack when he pressed her firmly against the wall and coaxed one leg up around his hips.
The material of his pants was rough against the tender skin of her inner thighs, and she realized somewhat incoherently, that he'd managed to undo them. Sure fingers stroked through her slick folds and she clutched at his shoulders, eyes closing at the incredible pleasure of him touching her so intimately. "Oh god, Jack, yes," she gasped, when he stroked tentatively at her tender opening, her muscles clamping down convulsively around his finger as he probed deeper.
A low growl rumbled up from deep in his chest and his hand was replaced with his rigid length, sliding easily through her damp flesh. She felt his fingers dig into her hips then, his chest pressing hard against hers and his voice rough against her ear. "Wrap your legs around me."
Trusting him to support her, she did as he directed, wrapping her legs tightly around his lean hips. Sam felt his entire body tense against hers and then he grunted, his hips thrusting deliberately against hers. She choked out his name on a gasping breath as she felt him sink deeply into her, stretching and filling her completely. He pulled back slightly and thrust again even deeper; she whimpered, dropping her head to his shoulder and holding on for dear life.
He pounded into her and Sam reveled in his possession, accepting all he demanded of her. She felt his need as deeply as she felt her own and responded the only way she could, by holding nothing back. If he was fierce in his desire, she was equally fierce in what she demanded from him. "Jack," she groaned, when he slid his arms under her legs, opening her further. And then she bit off a sharp cry when he changed the tempo and began moving in short, sharp thrusts into her. Burying her face in his neck, she pressed her mouth against his warm skin and bit his shoulder, muffling the soft cries of pleasure his powerful movements wrought.
As much as she wanted this moment to never end, it couldn't last forever, and she soon felt the incredible onslaught of sensation produce the inevitable rush towards climax. Her lover must've sensed it, or else he too felt the fine tremors that started low in her belly and spread outward until she sobbed his name in ecstasy. He thrust deep, her internal muscles contracting strongly around him while rapture poured through her, until she collapsed limply against him.
Sam was dimly aware that he still held her securely pinned between his hard body and the wall while he continued his own drive for fulfillment. And she was still sobbing gently against his shoulder when she heard his harsh groan, and felt his hips jerk convulsively against hers and the hot was of his seed deep in her belly.
Jack leaned heavily against her for long moments, his breathing as ragged as hers in the aftermath of their combined passion. She whimpered when she felt him start to move, tightening her arms and legs around him once more, but he disengaged himself with easy strength. She reluctantly let her legs slide to the floor, until she once more supported her own weight, though she suspected if she tried to walk, she'd fall, she felt so weak. Surprisingly gentle hands grasped her shoulders and she forced her head off his shoulder, opening her eyes and gazing at...she wasn't exactly sure. Her commanding officer? Her lover? An unlikely combination of both?
His eyes were dark and serious; and the hand that tenderly brushed her hair back off her forehead trembled. She summoned a reassuring smile and watched in amazement while relief filled his eyes. His lips descended to hers and then left too quickly, leaving her aching for more. But when he lifted her into his arms, she sighed in contentment and looped her arms around his neck as he strode with sure steps down the hall to her bedroom.
He lowered her gently to the bed and she lay back, acutely aware of her nudity and his semen, which even now was leaking out of her. His hands went to his waist and she felt a surge a panic, afraid that he was going to leave her. It must have shown in her eyes, because he murmured, "I'm not leaving."
She relaxed against the pillows then and watched in wonder as he stripped, his muscles rippling and moving while he undressed. She had just been held in those arms, pressed up against that firm body, felt him moving inside her and she drank in the sight. He was so handsome, it made her ache. And for once she didn't try to hide her appreciation, as she usually did.
A slight smile curved his lips when he saw her staring at him and she was surprised when she felt a soft flush start on her cheeks. The smile turned into a small grin and she blushed even more. He chuckled and then the mattress moved and dipped beneath her as he crawled into bed with her. She went eagerly into his embrace, nestling against him and resting her head on his chest.
"So," he rumbled above her head, "you're not engaged."
She rose up on her elbow then and looked down at him. "Jack, I don't want to discuss another man while I'm in bed with you." He looked appropriately chastised, so she continued on a gentler note. "But yes, I gave the ring back."
"Why?"
She had wondered that herself on more than one occasion, but now the answer was crystal clear. "Because I love you."
"Oh."
"Is that all you've got to say?" she teased mildly.
"I'm glad?"
Sam chuckled and relaxed against his chest. But something still bothered her. Toying with a strand of his gray hair, she decided to just ask. "Why did you come down so hard on me about my clothes?"
He looked uncomfortable and she wondered if he'd really tell her what was going on, or if he'd just do his usual and brush her concerns off. She caressed his cheek tenderly, brushing her fingers through his short hair. "It's all right, you can tell me."
"I know," he murmured. "It's just...difficult," he sighed. She kissed him gently and lay back down at his side, resting her head back on his chest and idly stroking his skin.
They lay quietly for several minutes before he finally started talking, his voice low above her head. "It's harder than I thought."
"Being in charge?"
"Oh, not running the SGC, that's about what I expected. It's watching you-and Daniel and Teal'c-go out on missions without me. It's not knowing what's going on, it's about having to make decisions about your life without having all the details." He paused and she tilted her head up and looked at him. His smile was wry. "If I was with you, well, at least we'd be together, no matter what happened."
She raised back up again, her eyes serious as she looked down at him. "I didn't realize...."
"I didn't want you to, besides, you had him."
Sam nodded, conceding his point. "So, what now?" she asked lightly, trying to hide the trepidation she felt at any of the numerous answers he could give her.
"I've been thinking about retiring. Even have the letter written."
Feeling like she was getting ready to walk into a minefield, she spoke slowly. "Jack, I can't imagine having anyone but you making those kind of decisions regarding SG-1-and me. "Whether it's fighting the Trust or any one of a dozen System Lords, knowing you're back at the SGC, watching our backs, gives me the strength and confidence I need when I'm out there."
He nodded and she could see the subtle relaxation in his features.
"I'll support you, whatever you decide," she reassured him. "But I think you should wait a few months, before you make a decision."
"I think I can do that."
She smiled and kissed him again. Searching around for covers then, she pulled the sheet and blanket up over them. She was just about to lie back down when he spoke again.
"So, how do you feel about sleeping with the base commander?"
Sam studied him carefully. He still looked relaxed, but there was a wariness back in his brown eyes and she knew her answer would set the tone for their personal and professional relationship. "As far as I'm concerned, I'm sleeping with the man I love," she said matter-of-factly. "If that ever changes, you'll be the first to know."
"Works for me." His voice was even, but his eyes betrayed his satisfaction.
"That's settled then." Snuggling back down into his arms, she closed her eyes and felt drowsiness start to mix with the contentment flowing through her. The next few months would probably test their resolve, but they were finally together. And dress code issues aside-that was all that mattered.
THE END