Fic: Whump (Sam/Jack, PG-13)
And this one I did post on LJ, on syxp's LJ to be precise, but I'm reposting here for completeness.
Title: Whump
Author: Pepper
Fandom(s): Stargate SG-1
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 604
Pairing(s): Sam/Jack
Summary: Cautiously, she stands, and tries to see through the dust, in the direction of the explosion. The direction that the Colonel and Daniel had gone.
A/N: Originally posted here.
---
Whump.
The sound is almost soft, but it's followed seconds later by a blast of released energy that nearly knock her to the ground, despite her instinctive duck-and-cover. Then she and Teal'c are fumbling for their MOPP gear as a choking cloud of dust descends. It's only after that she can deal with situations beyond the immediate.
Cautiously, she stands, and tries to see through the dust, in the direction of the explosion. The direction that the Colonel and Daniel had gone.
"Oh god." She grabs her radio. "Colonel? Daniel! Come in, please!" There's no answer. She exchanges a look with Teal'c - thank god he's with her - and battles down the urge to run towards the blast zone. "Colonel!" She knows she sounds frantic, but doesn't care. There's still no answer on the radio.
Perhaps the blast didn't come from the building (the only structure within a fifty-mile radius of the Gate). Or perhaps the Colonel and Daniel hadn't reached there yet (an easy distance at their usual walking pace). Perhaps they found shelter. Perhaps they're fine - just a bit stunned, bruised, scratched, and coated in dust.
There's a pattering sound, like rain on the leaves around her, detritus coming back down from the explosion. She opens her hand, and then rubs her fingers together. Dust, grit, and - no, no, no - ashes.
Teal'c is moving, and she shakes herself, and follows. As they cautiously pick their way forward, to discover their teammates' fate, a single word circles through her mind.
Please.
---
She sighs, and it tickles his collarbone, just to the right of a raw patch. The patch itches, hell, his whole body feels like it's been scoured - probably because it has - and his hands tighten on her back, rubbing at the base of her spine in lieu of scratching at his wounds.
"I thought you and Daniel were dead," she says, her head carefully tucked under his chin.
"Yeah. Kinda figured that." Actually, he hadn't really thought about it until she climbed into his bed earlier - but never let it be said that he needed to be hit twice with the clue mallet. She doesn't tell him not to do it again, but she does tighten her grip, and he feels what she won't let herself say. He rubs his lips (about the only part of him that doesn't hurt) against her hair. "We're okay," he whispers.
"I know." But she's wrapped herself tightly around him, and ten minutes ago, when he was deep inside her, he thought he caught the gleam of tears in her eyes.
She hates to reveal any vulnerability, though, and he's not particularly comfortable with it either, so he changes the subject. "I think I still have grit in my hair. I showered for, like, forever, and I still have grit in my hair. How is that possible?"
"Conditioner," she says. He's quiet for a long, confused moment, so she continues. "That'll get it out, I mean. Conditioner, and a comb. Do you even have conditioner?"
"I have shampoo." She huffs slightly, apparently feeling that there's an important distinction between the two. Really, he's never quite understood it.
"Okay, well, do you have any bananas in the house?" Huh? Bananas? "You can mash them up, put them on your hair, they'll work just as well."
"Carter..." He can't really put into words how much he is not the kind of guy who mashes up bananas and puts them on his hair. "No."
"You'd rather have the grit?"
"It'll wash out."
"Oh, you are so-" She rolls away, grabs her pillow, and thwaps him with it.
Whump.
---
END.
Title: Whump
Author: Pepper
Fandom(s): Stargate SG-1
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 604
Pairing(s): Sam/Jack
Summary: Cautiously, she stands, and tries to see through the dust, in the direction of the explosion. The direction that the Colonel and Daniel had gone.
A/N: Originally posted here.
---
Whump.
The sound is almost soft, but it's followed seconds later by a blast of released energy that nearly knock her to the ground, despite her instinctive duck-and-cover. Then she and Teal'c are fumbling for their MOPP gear as a choking cloud of dust descends. It's only after that she can deal with situations beyond the immediate.
Cautiously, she stands, and tries to see through the dust, in the direction of the explosion. The direction that the Colonel and Daniel had gone.
"Oh god." She grabs her radio. "Colonel? Daniel! Come in, please!" There's no answer. She exchanges a look with Teal'c - thank god he's with her - and battles down the urge to run towards the blast zone. "Colonel!" She knows she sounds frantic, but doesn't care. There's still no answer on the radio.
Perhaps the blast didn't come from the building (the only structure within a fifty-mile radius of the Gate). Or perhaps the Colonel and Daniel hadn't reached there yet (an easy distance at their usual walking pace). Perhaps they found shelter. Perhaps they're fine - just a bit stunned, bruised, scratched, and coated in dust.
There's a pattering sound, like rain on the leaves around her, detritus coming back down from the explosion. She opens her hand, and then rubs her fingers together. Dust, grit, and - no, no, no - ashes.
Teal'c is moving, and she shakes herself, and follows. As they cautiously pick their way forward, to discover their teammates' fate, a single word circles through her mind.
Please.
---
She sighs, and it tickles his collarbone, just to the right of a raw patch. The patch itches, hell, his whole body feels like it's been scoured - probably because it has - and his hands tighten on her back, rubbing at the base of her spine in lieu of scratching at his wounds.
"I thought you and Daniel were dead," she says, her head carefully tucked under his chin.
"Yeah. Kinda figured that." Actually, he hadn't really thought about it until she climbed into his bed earlier - but never let it be said that he needed to be hit twice with the clue mallet. She doesn't tell him not to do it again, but she does tighten her grip, and he feels what she won't let herself say. He rubs his lips (about the only part of him that doesn't hurt) against her hair. "We're okay," he whispers.
"I know." But she's wrapped herself tightly around him, and ten minutes ago, when he was deep inside her, he thought he caught the gleam of tears in her eyes.
She hates to reveal any vulnerability, though, and he's not particularly comfortable with it either, so he changes the subject. "I think I still have grit in my hair. I showered for, like, forever, and I still have grit in my hair. How is that possible?"
"Conditioner," she says. He's quiet for a long, confused moment, so she continues. "That'll get it out, I mean. Conditioner, and a comb. Do you even have conditioner?"
"I have shampoo." She huffs slightly, apparently feeling that there's an important distinction between the two. Really, he's never quite understood it.
"Okay, well, do you have any bananas in the house?" Huh? Bananas? "You can mash them up, put them on your hair, they'll work just as well."
"Carter..." He can't really put into words how much he is not the kind of guy who mashes up bananas and puts them on his hair. "No."
"You'd rather have the grit?"
"It'll wash out."
"Oh, you are so-" She rolls away, grabs her pillow, and thwaps him with it.
Whump.
---
END.