New Fic: Misery Loves Company
Title: Misery Loves Company
Rating: PG
Summary: Sam's grumpy, Jack's amused. And they're both invited to a wedding.
Notes: Written for the TFLN Ficathon . Prompt: Stargate SG-1. Sam - (918) It sounds miserable..I have to wear a dress and it's a cash bar?
She glanced at him with an eyebrow raised. “Seriously, this is how you want to spend the weekend?”
He let out a small sigh, and while she couldn’t see his eyes from beneath the sunglasses, she was sure they were actually sparkling with amusement at the amount of contempt that had laced her tone.
He finished turning out of the parking lot before he responded with a languid wave of his hand. “I thought women loved this sort of thing.”
Her gaze became a glare. “By ‘this sort of thing’ I take it you mean ‘weddings’?”
The bastard was trying not to laugh at her, she could tell.
“Well, yes.”
“I have to wear a dress and it’s a cash bar.” Sam’s voice was flat. “Does that sound like fun to you? Because it sounds miserable to me.”
Now he did laugh. “C’mon, Carter, I’m sure it won’t be that bad -- besides General MacLeod is a good guy, and his daughter’s quite pleasant.”
Sam folded her arms across her chest and grumbled, “A good guy who’s too damn cheap to pay for an open bar.”
Jack must have realized she was genuinely upset, because he reached over and placed his hand on her thigh, the warmth seeping through her jeans. “I’ll buy all your drinks, if that helps.”
“If you’re my date, you’d better,” she shot back.
He glanced over a her, sitting stiffly in the passenger seat. “If you really don’t want to come, that’s fine. But I do have to go, at least for a little while.” He gave her thigh a gentle pat, before moving both hands back to the steering wheel.
She sighed. Jack rarely asked for anything in their relationship. But she’d just gotten back from a mission that had been tougher than expected, and she was stiff and covered in bruises, and the last thing she wanted to do was go dress shopping so she could spend hours, sober, making small talk with strangers.
She remained silent, the rest of the way home, watching Washington’s suburban scenery pass by her windows. Fathers out mowing lawns, children playing catch, women working in gardens beneath the morning’s golden rays. She’d realized years ago that this would never be her life, but sometimes she couldn’t help but long for a simpler existence. One where she wasn’t constantly gating off to a new planet, to escape from the bad guy du jour. Jack seemed content to leave her to her wool-gathering, quietly guiding the car back to his small brownstone.
He pulled into their driveway, and silently put the car into park, but when he reached for his seatbelt, she put her hand over his. “I’m sorry,” she said, trying to catch his eye. “I’m just tired.”
He gave her a small, lop-sided smile. “I know,” he replied. And he gave her hand a warm squeeze.
“I don’t mean to be an ass.”
Jack laughed. And then he leaned over and gave her a kiss. “It’s a good thing, Colonel, that I think you’re cute when you’re grumpy.” And then he gave her hand a little tug. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. I think there’s some of those bath salt things left from your last visit, and I picked up a bottle of wine.” And with that, he opened the door and was pulling her duffle from the trunk, casually swinging it over his shoulder.
And as she watched, he headed towards the front door, whistling as he fumbled with the keys. The sunlight glinted off his white hair, and gave his skin a golden tan. And as he swung open the front door, Sam could swear that he gave her a wink. And suddenly, she wasn’t envious of people with lawns to mow or gardens to weed, because she had all she’d wanted for years, and the stars besides.
End.
Rating: PG
Summary: Sam's grumpy, Jack's amused. And they're both invited to a wedding.
Notes: Written for the TFLN Ficathon . Prompt: Stargate SG-1. Sam - (918) It sounds miserable..I have to wear a dress and it's a cash bar?
She glanced at him with an eyebrow raised. “Seriously, this is how you want to spend the weekend?”
He let out a small sigh, and while she couldn’t see his eyes from beneath the sunglasses, she was sure they were actually sparkling with amusement at the amount of contempt that had laced her tone.
He finished turning out of the parking lot before he responded with a languid wave of his hand. “I thought women loved this sort of thing.”
Her gaze became a glare. “By ‘this sort of thing’ I take it you mean ‘weddings’?”
The bastard was trying not to laugh at her, she could tell.
“Well, yes.”
“I have to wear a dress and it’s a cash bar.” Sam’s voice was flat. “Does that sound like fun to you? Because it sounds miserable to me.”
Now he did laugh. “C’mon, Carter, I’m sure it won’t be that bad -- besides General MacLeod is a good guy, and his daughter’s quite pleasant.”
Sam folded her arms across her chest and grumbled, “A good guy who’s too damn cheap to pay for an open bar.”
Jack must have realized she was genuinely upset, because he reached over and placed his hand on her thigh, the warmth seeping through her jeans. “I’ll buy all your drinks, if that helps.”
“If you’re my date, you’d better,” she shot back.
He glanced over a her, sitting stiffly in the passenger seat. “If you really don’t want to come, that’s fine. But I do have to go, at least for a little while.” He gave her thigh a gentle pat, before moving both hands back to the steering wheel.
She sighed. Jack rarely asked for anything in their relationship. But she’d just gotten back from a mission that had been tougher than expected, and she was stiff and covered in bruises, and the last thing she wanted to do was go dress shopping so she could spend hours, sober, making small talk with strangers.
She remained silent, the rest of the way home, watching Washington’s suburban scenery pass by her windows. Fathers out mowing lawns, children playing catch, women working in gardens beneath the morning’s golden rays. She’d realized years ago that this would never be her life, but sometimes she couldn’t help but long for a simpler existence. One where she wasn’t constantly gating off to a new planet, to escape from the bad guy du jour. Jack seemed content to leave her to her wool-gathering, quietly guiding the car back to his small brownstone.
He pulled into their driveway, and silently put the car into park, but when he reached for his seatbelt, she put her hand over his. “I’m sorry,” she said, trying to catch his eye. “I’m just tired.”
He gave her a small, lop-sided smile. “I know,” he replied. And he gave her hand a warm squeeze.
“I don’t mean to be an ass.”
Jack laughed. And then he leaned over and gave her a kiss. “It’s a good thing, Colonel, that I think you’re cute when you’re grumpy.” And then he gave her hand a little tug. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. I think there’s some of those bath salt things left from your last visit, and I picked up a bottle of wine.” And with that, he opened the door and was pulling her duffle from the trunk, casually swinging it over his shoulder.
And as she watched, he headed towards the front door, whistling as he fumbled with the keys. The sunlight glinted off his white hair, and gave his skin a golden tan. And as he swung open the front door, Sam could swear that he gave her a wink. And suddenly, she wasn’t envious of people with lawns to mow or gardens to weed, because she had all she’d wanted for years, and the stars besides.
End.