Sam/Jack ficlet
Another museum ficlet, this time for
holdouttrout, who asked for room 13 and Sam/Jack - for which she gets this bit of fluff. The room was full of early Greek (Mycenaean) pottery, coins and jewellery, 1050 - 520 BC. They had copies of some of the earliest coins ever made, tiny little things, like little silver nuggets in uneven shapes, stamped with their value. What first caught my eye, though, was a giant storage jar, or pithos.
---
They were whispering.
"I think I might be stuck."
"You're kidding me."
The container rocked, and Sam swore under her breath. "Don't move! This jar doesn't have a very broad base, sir."
"So why did you jump in on top of me?!"
"There was nowhere else to go."
Jack huffed. "Ali Baba never had this problem. You're really stuck?"
"No, I love being crammed into a jar like a pickled chili," Sam hissed, sarcastically.
"Major..."
There was a frosty silence.
"Well, Teal'c will get us out when it's clear. Meanwhile, how about moving your elbow? I know criticizing a woman's shape is, you know, bad and all, but you're all goddamn elbows and knees - ow! The other way! Move it the other way!"
"Sorry, sir." She didn't sound sorry. "My elbow slipped."
Jack was quiet for a moment, considering his options. "That's okay," he whispered, cautiously. "Just be careful next time, willya?"
There was an uncomfortable silence, broken eventually by a soft sniffing noise. "Is that your feet?"
"It was a long walk!" protested Jack. "Anyway, it wouldn't be bothering you if you hadn't stuffed yourself in here with me!"
"No, sir," sighed Sam. "Next time I'll remember it's a choice between quick death at the end of a staff weapon, and slow death of suffocati-ow!"
"My teeth slipped," whispered Jack, blandly.
"You bit me!"
"Well, you bit me first!"
"What? When?"
"On Apophis's ship!"
There was silence as Sam cast about in her memory. "But - but that was nearly six years ago!" The jar rocked unsteadily as Jack attempted a nonchalant shrug. "Sir."
"Yeah, yeah. No wriggling. My knees are not loving this, you know."
After a few moments, Sam whispered: "I can't believe you still remember that."
"Well, you know. I still bear the scars."
"Oh, you do not."
"Mentally. Mentally I do." A long pause, and then in a slightly higher-pitched whisper: "Carter?"
"Kissed it better."
"...Oh."
A much longer pause, thick with unspoken words and unfinished thoughts.
"Have you ever smacked me in the mouth? I've been trying to remember."
"No, sir." This time, she did sound sorry.
"Damn."
"Want me to smack you in the mouth now?"
"Not especially, Carter."
"I did hit you on the nose that one time. By accident, of course."
"So you did." Silence, some rustling, and then a soft sigh. "Carter..."
"Yes, sir. I know. Sorry. It won't happen again."
"Actually, I was going to say that I just remembered that I slugged you on the cheek once."
"Oh. I... oh." The sound of breathing was slightly more audible. "Uh... well, that makes it all better, then."
"Mm."
"Have I ever hit your eyebrow?"
"Everyone hits my eyebrow, Carter. Or my knees."
"I'm not kissing your knees better, sir. I couldn't possibly reach them, in here."
"But if you could-?"
"Shut up, sir."
The jar wobbled precariously, and then settled.
"...Okay, the eyebrow one I understood, but what was the second one for? I'm pretty sure you've never hit me there."
"That was for when I make you frown."
"Sweet. What about for when I make you laugh?"
"Why would that need kissing better?"
"Well... sometimes I wish you didn't laugh at my jokes."
"Works for mmmf..."
---
*eyeroll at self*
holdouttrout, who asked for room 13 and Sam/Jack - for which she gets this bit of fluff. The room was full of early Greek (Mycenaean) pottery, coins and jewellery, 1050 - 520 BC. They had copies of some of the earliest coins ever made, tiny little things, like little silver nuggets in uneven shapes, stamped with their value. What first caught my eye, though, was a giant storage jar, or pithos.
---
They were whispering.
"I think I might be stuck."
"You're kidding me."
The container rocked, and Sam swore under her breath. "Don't move! This jar doesn't have a very broad base, sir."
"So why did you jump in on top of me?!"
"There was nowhere else to go."
Jack huffed. "Ali Baba never had this problem. You're really stuck?"
"No, I love being crammed into a jar like a pickled chili," Sam hissed, sarcastically.
"Major..."
There was a frosty silence.
"Well, Teal'c will get us out when it's clear. Meanwhile, how about moving your elbow? I know criticizing a woman's shape is, you know, bad and all, but you're all goddamn elbows and knees - ow! The other way! Move it the other way!"
"Sorry, sir." She didn't sound sorry. "My elbow slipped."
Jack was quiet for a moment, considering his options. "That's okay," he whispered, cautiously. "Just be careful next time, willya?"
There was an uncomfortable silence, broken eventually by a soft sniffing noise. "Is that your feet?"
"It was a long walk!" protested Jack. "Anyway, it wouldn't be bothering you if you hadn't stuffed yourself in here with me!"
"No, sir," sighed Sam. "Next time I'll remember it's a choice between quick death at the end of a staff weapon, and slow death of suffocati-ow!"
"My teeth slipped," whispered Jack, blandly.
"You bit me!"
"Well, you bit me first!"
"What? When?"
"On Apophis's ship!"
There was silence as Sam cast about in her memory. "But - but that was nearly six years ago!" The jar rocked unsteadily as Jack attempted a nonchalant shrug. "Sir."
"Yeah, yeah. No wriggling. My knees are not loving this, you know."
After a few moments, Sam whispered: "I can't believe you still remember that."
"Well, you know. I still bear the scars."
"Oh, you do not."
"Mentally. Mentally I do." A long pause, and then in a slightly higher-pitched whisper: "Carter?"
"Kissed it better."
"...Oh."
A much longer pause, thick with unspoken words and unfinished thoughts.
"Have you ever smacked me in the mouth? I've been trying to remember."
"No, sir." This time, she did sound sorry.
"Damn."
"Want me to smack you in the mouth now?"
"Not especially, Carter."
"I did hit you on the nose that one time. By accident, of course."
"So you did." Silence, some rustling, and then a soft sigh. "Carter..."
"Yes, sir. I know. Sorry. It won't happen again."
"Actually, I was going to say that I just remembered that I slugged you on the cheek once."
"Oh. I... oh." The sound of breathing was slightly more audible. "Uh... well, that makes it all better, then."
"Mm."
"Have I ever hit your eyebrow?"
"Everyone hits my eyebrow, Carter. Or my knees."
"I'm not kissing your knees better, sir. I couldn't possibly reach them, in here."
"But if you could-?"
"Shut up, sir."
The jar wobbled precariously, and then settled.
"...Okay, the eyebrow one I understood, but what was the second one for? I'm pretty sure you've never hit me there."
"That was for when I make you frown."
"Sweet. What about for when I make you laugh?"
"Why would that need kissing better?"
"Well... sometimes I wish you didn't laugh at my jokes."
"Works for mmmf..."
---
*eyeroll at self*