An itty Sam & Vala ficlet from yesterday
I posted this yesterday as commentfic on my post of birthday glee for holdouttrout, because it was a late addition, and besides, really, it's commentfic. But now I want it here, too, because I like to have fic in fic posts, lol.
Title: Trouble Shared
Rating: PG
Characters: Sam & Vala
Season: Ten
Categories: Gen. Mild Sam-whump. Sam-and-Vala-are-trouble. (I'm sure that's a category.)
Word Count: ~700
“Sam?”
The voice, vaguely familiar, interrupted her sleep, tried to call her back up out of the well she’d finally let herself fall into. Sam groaned, turning her head away.
“Samantha, I need you to wake up.”
Something tickled her cheek; she gasped as pain shot through her arm and chest when she attempted to raise a hand to brush off the annoyance.
“Yes, moving’s a fairly bad idea right now. You might have forgotten the nasty gash you’ve got in your arm. Forgetting it’s not necessarily a bad thing, though, since as soon as you remember it, I imagine you’ll also recall that it’s entirely my fault.”
Sam coughed a laugh and cracked her eyes open to look up at Vala, her face barely visible through the cascading brown hair currently causing the itching sensation near the corner of Sam’s mouth. “It’s coming back. Actually, it’s pretty clear already.”
Vala winced. “If that thing,” and she gestured at the cut on Sam’s arm, “weren’t so ugly, I’d probably be glad you couldn’t move.”
“I think I can claim my own share of the blame, you know. I saw it coming. I could have gotten you out of there before it happened.” Without warning, Sam reached up with her uninjured arm and grabbed a few strands of Vala’s hair between her thumb and forefinger. “And I’m not exactly immobile.”
“Hmm. Ought to fix that.” Vala gently grabbed Sam’s hand, pulling it away and twining their fingers together. “So, are you telling me that the absolutely perfect Samantha Carter actually wanted to get into a tavern brawl?”
“The idea of beating up a few local jackasses did seem fleetingly appealing. I wasn’t really planning on getting gashed with a knife, though.”
“Yes.” Vala released Sam’s hand, briefly moving away before once again leaning over Sam. “I did manage to procure some supplies, so let’s see what I can do to fix this up. Though I’m afraid the anesthetic I got isn’t particularly effective.”
“Go ahead, do your worst. That’s not what’s going to bother me.”
“What then?”
“Do you think you could move your hair? It tickles.”
Vala smiled, pulling her hair behind her shoulders with one hand and patting lightly at Sam’s cheek. “Better?”
Sam nodded, biting back a gasp as Vala began to remove the makeshift dressing and apply the numbing agent.
“Not long now,” Vala said, falsely cheerful.
“Better not be.” Sam managed to grate out the words without screaming.
They sat in silence for several minutes, waiting on the anesthetic. Eventually, Vala reached out to prod the edge of the gash gently. Sam bit her lip, but nodded, shutting her eyes as Vala began to work.
“How’s that feeling?” Vala asked softly.
“On a scale of …”
“Oh, let’s say, one to ten.” Sam could hear the smile returning to Vala’s voice. “Where one is ice cream, and ten is one of our dear General Landry’s all-hands pep talks.”
Sam snorted; the movement jerked her arm unpleasantly. “God, Vala, please don’t make me laugh.”
“Stop wiggling."
Sam opened her eyes for the express purpose of rolling them at Vala, who was preparing to wrap Sam’s arm, having finished applying various suspicious-looking ointments.
“You seem to be feeling better,” Vala said.
“Minor miracle."
“What’s a girl have to do to get a little appreciation around here?” Carefully, she laid Sam’s arm back on the blanket, then began tidying her hodge-podge of medical supplies. When she returned, she sat down and rested her hand on Sam’s head. “Think you can get some sleep?”
“After that?”
“Duck faster next time, and you won’t get stuck with my bedside manner. Although come to think of it,” she continued, tugging on a strand of hair, “when we find the boys, I’m going to enjoy telling them that not only did you help me pick a fight in a bar, but that I am far, far better at dodging knives than you. In spite of all that lovely hand-to-hand training.”
Sam raised her eyebrows. “I’m suddenly very tired after all.”
“Thought you might be.”
“Thank you," Sam said softly as she closed her eyes.
Vala only hummed in response, continuing to stroke Sam’s hair until she drifted back to sleep.
Title: Trouble Shared
Rating: PG
Characters: Sam & Vala
Season: Ten
Categories: Gen. Mild Sam-whump. Sam-and-Vala-are-trouble. (I'm sure that's a category.)
Word Count: ~700
“Sam?”
The voice, vaguely familiar, interrupted her sleep, tried to call her back up out of the well she’d finally let herself fall into. Sam groaned, turning her head away.
“Samantha, I need you to wake up.”
Something tickled her cheek; she gasped as pain shot through her arm and chest when she attempted to raise a hand to brush off the annoyance.
“Yes, moving’s a fairly bad idea right now. You might have forgotten the nasty gash you’ve got in your arm. Forgetting it’s not necessarily a bad thing, though, since as soon as you remember it, I imagine you’ll also recall that it’s entirely my fault.”
Sam coughed a laugh and cracked her eyes open to look up at Vala, her face barely visible through the cascading brown hair currently causing the itching sensation near the corner of Sam’s mouth. “It’s coming back. Actually, it’s pretty clear already.”
Vala winced. “If that thing,” and she gestured at the cut on Sam’s arm, “weren’t so ugly, I’d probably be glad you couldn’t move.”
“I think I can claim my own share of the blame, you know. I saw it coming. I could have gotten you out of there before it happened.” Without warning, Sam reached up with her uninjured arm and grabbed a few strands of Vala’s hair between her thumb and forefinger. “And I’m not exactly immobile.”
“Hmm. Ought to fix that.” Vala gently grabbed Sam’s hand, pulling it away and twining their fingers together. “So, are you telling me that the absolutely perfect Samantha Carter actually wanted to get into a tavern brawl?”
“The idea of beating up a few local jackasses did seem fleetingly appealing. I wasn’t really planning on getting gashed with a knife, though.”
“Yes.” Vala released Sam’s hand, briefly moving away before once again leaning over Sam. “I did manage to procure some supplies, so let’s see what I can do to fix this up. Though I’m afraid the anesthetic I got isn’t particularly effective.”
“Go ahead, do your worst. That’s not what’s going to bother me.”
“What then?”
“Do you think you could move your hair? It tickles.”
Vala smiled, pulling her hair behind her shoulders with one hand and patting lightly at Sam’s cheek. “Better?”
Sam nodded, biting back a gasp as Vala began to remove the makeshift dressing and apply the numbing agent.
“Not long now,” Vala said, falsely cheerful.
“Better not be.” Sam managed to grate out the words without screaming.
They sat in silence for several minutes, waiting on the anesthetic. Eventually, Vala reached out to prod the edge of the gash gently. Sam bit her lip, but nodded, shutting her eyes as Vala began to work.
“How’s that feeling?” Vala asked softly.
“On a scale of …”
“Oh, let’s say, one to ten.” Sam could hear the smile returning to Vala’s voice. “Where one is ice cream, and ten is one of our dear General Landry’s all-hands pep talks.”
Sam snorted; the movement jerked her arm unpleasantly. “God, Vala, please don’t make me laugh.”
“Stop wiggling."
Sam opened her eyes for the express purpose of rolling them at Vala, who was preparing to wrap Sam’s arm, having finished applying various suspicious-looking ointments.
“You seem to be feeling better,” Vala said.
“Minor miracle."
“What’s a girl have to do to get a little appreciation around here?” Carefully, she laid Sam’s arm back on the blanket, then began tidying her hodge-podge of medical supplies. When she returned, she sat down and rested her hand on Sam’s head. “Think you can get some sleep?”
“After that?”
“Duck faster next time, and you won’t get stuck with my bedside manner. Although come to think of it,” she continued, tugging on a strand of hair, “when we find the boys, I’m going to enjoy telling them that not only did you help me pick a fight in a bar, but that I am far, far better at dodging knives than you. In spite of all that lovely hand-to-hand training.”
Sam raised her eyebrows. “I’m suddenly very tired after all.”
“Thought you might be.”
“Thank you," Sam said softly as she closed her eyes.
Vala only hummed in response, continuing to stroke Sam’s hair until she drifted back to sleep.