May (Sam/Jack) - G
Here's a little something for annerbhp. Happy Belated Birthday, hon! I look forward to all the fun we'll have over the next year. :)
May
By Jennghis Kahn
Pairing: Sam/Jack
Rating: G
Category: Dreamy angst and fluff.
Spoilers: None
Thanks to shutthef_up for giving it a looksee and making sure I didn't run into trouble. ;)
May
+
She doesn’t even remember until he shows up in her doorway.
“Big plans tonight, Carter?” There’s a smirk on his face that makes her brows furrow in confusion. But then… it is Jack.
“Why would you think that?”
His brows lift, and she suddenly realizes that there’s something she should know. Something she’s forgotten. It’s an unwelcome sensation, one she’s been feeling far too often lately. She’s going through a bad patch, but she’s had worse days. Hell, she’s had worse years. It just seems like they keep getting closer together, and they last longer, each time.
Jack steps into the lab. “Carter, people usually spend their birthdays with friends. Opening sappy cards and eating cake.” His brows shoot up again as he says ‘cake’.
Oh. Yes. That’s right. She feels a bit embarrassed. “It’s not a big deal, sir. I’m just going to get some samples of this new mineral ready for testing and then go home. It’s been a long day.” She’s been staying later and later, the silence and otherworldliness of her lab feeling so much more homey to her than her house.
He’s across from her now, his hands sliding over the table, fingertips rubbing at the scratched surface. She pulls her eyes away. Those hands make a part of her break away inside, and she’s never found any defense. He looks up at her from under lowered lashes. “You can’t spend your birthday working late.”
“I…” She isn’t sure what to say. She doesn’t want to do anything. She wants to work late, so she can go home tired and crawl into bed, exhausted and content.
“The guys want to take you out. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
She tries to protest. He’ll have none of it. He holds a finger up and smiles, and she feels that pull inside where he breaks her again and again. “Seven, Carter.”
+
The evening is fine. It goes just like she knows it will. They have a steak and then go for a beer. She limits herself to two, and they spend a couple of hours talking shop and explaining Tau’ri life to Teal’c. She knows she’s being quiet, probably uncharacteristically so, but they don’t seem to notice. Or maybe they do and they’re just giving her space.
She keeps imagining her house and how quiet it will be when she gets home. How she’ll turn on every TV she owns just to fill it with sound. How she’ll sit there so… apart from the world. She should really be over this sort of thing by now, shouldn’t she?
It’s still early when they break up the party. Daniel gives her a long hug and whispers ‘happy birthday’ in her ear. She smiles and means it because it’s Daniel and she can never not mean it around him. Teal’c hugs her too, and she’s favored with a smile and a nod. Jack squeezes her shoulder and makes sure he’s the proper distance away from her.
His fingers burn a hole through her bones.
Outside, Teal’c and Daniel disappear into the night. She starts the long walk across the parking lot with Jack at her side.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” he asks.
She smiles at him, and it’s mostly natural. “Yes. It was nice.”
His eyes narrow and focus in on her, even as his head tilts just so. “And yet, something’s not quite right…”
“I’m fine,” she says, giving him a nod as if that should settle the matter.
He’s studying her. It’s only moments but it feels like years. She feels transparent and exposed, and oh… she’s showing too much. Way too much. Always too much… to him. She looks away, wondering if she can still go in and work for a few hours after he drops her off. No. She’s only had two drinks, but it doesn’t matter. Her work is done for today.
She climbs into his truck. Despite the size it feels small in the cab. He slides into the driver’s seat, pulling his seatbelt on, and she watches the blinking dash lights flash across his face as he turns the key.
“Carter.” He speaks her name levelly, but it hooks her and stops her dead, as if he’d shouted it.
She looks at him.
“You okay?” His smile is gone. His eyes are piercing even in the shadows of the truck.
She’s surprised. She hesitates; wanting to protest that she’s fine, she’s fine, no need to worry. It’s just one of those phases that they all go through, and she’ll come out the other end eventually. “Yeah,” she insists.
He accepts it, and she can’t help thinking that she really gave him no choice. He pulls the truck out into traffic. She’s quiet as they drive, and he’s never been one to feel awkward with silence. He just focuses on the road and steers the big truck effortlessly. She listens to the soft sound of the radio turned down low. Something with acoustic guitars and a woman singing about the pain of love.
When they reach her exit, he keeps going.
She glances at him. “Sir, you just missed…”
“I know,” he says.
She waits, but he doesn’t explain himself. She looks out at the lights of the city going by. “It’s getting late.”
He calls her on it. “You tired?” She swallows, and his expression softens. “Tell me when you’re tired.”
The city lights grow more sporadic and finally fade into empty stretches. He takes another exit, and then they’re riding out into the forests and fields, along single-lane rural roads where only the full moon lights the landscape. It’s the middle of spring, and it’s warm. He rolls his window down partway, and the sweet rush of wind fills the cab. She rolls hers down as well.
“Where are we going?” She looks at him curiously, feeling a little breathless at the spontaneity of it all.
He shrugs and glances at her. “Do we have to go somewhere?”
It feels illogical to her, and yet… “No,” she answers, meaning it. No. As long as she’s not going home. As long as she’s still with him, and she doesn’t have to feel that breaking, that ache, when he leaves her. For a while yet anyway.
He seems to know exactly where he is, and he navigates the country roads with ease and with purpose. He’s turning a circle, she realizes, taking them out into the solace of the country. The trees and the fields slide by on either side of them, and the chirping whir of crickets swells and fades as they pass.
She leans back in her seat and gazes out at the moonlit land and the dark, sepia tones of the hills and mountains. The dew is settling down from the heat of the day, and she can smell the green, the wet leaves and grass. It’s her birthday, she realizes. She was born on this day. Not here, somewhere else, but the stars were all aligned in the sky in the same way.
She rests her arm up the edge of the door and slides her hand out into the warm wind, feeling the tug and resistance against her fingers. It feels soft and powerful at the same time, and her fingers feel delicate. They lift and fall with the currents of air, and she tilts her hand, brings her fingertips together and points them into the wind so they slice through with ease, like a rocket.
She smiles.
“It’s good to see you smile.” His voice is quiet. That soft tone he uses so rarely. The intimate one that cracks her in two.
She rolls her head against the back of the seat, turning to look at him. His attention is back on the road, and she
studies the way his fingers curl around the steering wheel. He’s wearing a flannel shirt as a jacket, and a long-sleeved, white Henley beneath it. The sleeves of both are shoved up high on his forearms, and the contrast between his skin and the fabric is dramatic, even in the darkness.
She can’t help it. He’s so close, and they’re alone, out in the middle of nowhere, with no one watching. She can notice the way his jeans gather around his bent knees, or the sharp lines of his profile in the moonlight. She can notice the little ways he moves, and how he smells good, and the five o’clock shadow on his jaw.
When he glances at her, eyes grazing over her wind-blown hair, she realizes he can notice similar things about her.
“I’m okay,” she reassures him, because she knows he feels like something is up with her. And just the fact that he’s done this for her has made her really feel okay.
“I know,” he insists. He keeps driving.
“I know you have an early briefing tomorrow.”
He just glances out at the moonlit fields and gives a faint smile. “Let me know when you’re tired.”
She doesn’t want to go home. She wants to ride here, beside him, and feel like they belong. Like they’re going somewhere. She tilts her hand out into the wind and lets it grab at her fingers, and she feels that core inside of her letting go a little, aching and singing at the same time. This is his truck, his private space, and he’s brought her into it and made her a part of it. He doesn’t want to take her home anymore than she wants to go.
She watches him for a while. Watches his hands and his face and the way he drives. She watches the thoughts pass through his mind and the way his eyes flicker over to her from time to time, and the way the corner of his mouth lifts upward when he meets her gaze. It makes her ache, but she doesn’t break…
And then she watches the forests flying by in the night; the warm, spring wind blowing fingers through her hair. When she finally gets tired, she doesn’t tell him. She just falls asleep.
He still drives until morning.
+
May
By Jennghis Kahn
Pairing: Sam/Jack
Rating: G
Category: Dreamy angst and fluff.
Spoilers: None
Thanks to shutthef_up for giving it a looksee and making sure I didn't run into trouble. ;)
May
+
She doesn’t even remember until he shows up in her doorway.
“Big plans tonight, Carter?” There’s a smirk on his face that makes her brows furrow in confusion. But then… it is Jack.
“Why would you think that?”
His brows lift, and she suddenly realizes that there’s something she should know. Something she’s forgotten. It’s an unwelcome sensation, one she’s been feeling far too often lately. She’s going through a bad patch, but she’s had worse days. Hell, she’s had worse years. It just seems like they keep getting closer together, and they last longer, each time.
Jack steps into the lab. “Carter, people usually spend their birthdays with friends. Opening sappy cards and eating cake.” His brows shoot up again as he says ‘cake’.
Oh. Yes. That’s right. She feels a bit embarrassed. “It’s not a big deal, sir. I’m just going to get some samples of this new mineral ready for testing and then go home. It’s been a long day.” She’s been staying later and later, the silence and otherworldliness of her lab feeling so much more homey to her than her house.
He’s across from her now, his hands sliding over the table, fingertips rubbing at the scratched surface. She pulls her eyes away. Those hands make a part of her break away inside, and she’s never found any defense. He looks up at her from under lowered lashes. “You can’t spend your birthday working late.”
“I…” She isn’t sure what to say. She doesn’t want to do anything. She wants to work late, so she can go home tired and crawl into bed, exhausted and content.
“The guys want to take you out. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
She tries to protest. He’ll have none of it. He holds a finger up and smiles, and she feels that pull inside where he breaks her again and again. “Seven, Carter.”
+
The evening is fine. It goes just like she knows it will. They have a steak and then go for a beer. She limits herself to two, and they spend a couple of hours talking shop and explaining Tau’ri life to Teal’c. She knows she’s being quiet, probably uncharacteristically so, but they don’t seem to notice. Or maybe they do and they’re just giving her space.
She keeps imagining her house and how quiet it will be when she gets home. How she’ll turn on every TV she owns just to fill it with sound. How she’ll sit there so… apart from the world. She should really be over this sort of thing by now, shouldn’t she?
It’s still early when they break up the party. Daniel gives her a long hug and whispers ‘happy birthday’ in her ear. She smiles and means it because it’s Daniel and she can never not mean it around him. Teal’c hugs her too, and she’s favored with a smile and a nod. Jack squeezes her shoulder and makes sure he’s the proper distance away from her.
His fingers burn a hole through her bones.
Outside, Teal’c and Daniel disappear into the night. She starts the long walk across the parking lot with Jack at her side.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” he asks.
She smiles at him, and it’s mostly natural. “Yes. It was nice.”
His eyes narrow and focus in on her, even as his head tilts just so. “And yet, something’s not quite right…”
“I’m fine,” she says, giving him a nod as if that should settle the matter.
He’s studying her. It’s only moments but it feels like years. She feels transparent and exposed, and oh… she’s showing too much. Way too much. Always too much… to him. She looks away, wondering if she can still go in and work for a few hours after he drops her off. No. She’s only had two drinks, but it doesn’t matter. Her work is done for today.
She climbs into his truck. Despite the size it feels small in the cab. He slides into the driver’s seat, pulling his seatbelt on, and she watches the blinking dash lights flash across his face as he turns the key.
“Carter.” He speaks her name levelly, but it hooks her and stops her dead, as if he’d shouted it.
She looks at him.
“You okay?” His smile is gone. His eyes are piercing even in the shadows of the truck.
She’s surprised. She hesitates; wanting to protest that she’s fine, she’s fine, no need to worry. It’s just one of those phases that they all go through, and she’ll come out the other end eventually. “Yeah,” she insists.
He accepts it, and she can’t help thinking that she really gave him no choice. He pulls the truck out into traffic. She’s quiet as they drive, and he’s never been one to feel awkward with silence. He just focuses on the road and steers the big truck effortlessly. She listens to the soft sound of the radio turned down low. Something with acoustic guitars and a woman singing about the pain of love.
When they reach her exit, he keeps going.
She glances at him. “Sir, you just missed…”
“I know,” he says.
She waits, but he doesn’t explain himself. She looks out at the lights of the city going by. “It’s getting late.”
He calls her on it. “You tired?” She swallows, and his expression softens. “Tell me when you’re tired.”
The city lights grow more sporadic and finally fade into empty stretches. He takes another exit, and then they’re riding out into the forests and fields, along single-lane rural roads where only the full moon lights the landscape. It’s the middle of spring, and it’s warm. He rolls his window down partway, and the sweet rush of wind fills the cab. She rolls hers down as well.
“Where are we going?” She looks at him curiously, feeling a little breathless at the spontaneity of it all.
He shrugs and glances at her. “Do we have to go somewhere?”
It feels illogical to her, and yet… “No,” she answers, meaning it. No. As long as she’s not going home. As long as she’s still with him, and she doesn’t have to feel that breaking, that ache, when he leaves her. For a while yet anyway.
He seems to know exactly where he is, and he navigates the country roads with ease and with purpose. He’s turning a circle, she realizes, taking them out into the solace of the country. The trees and the fields slide by on either side of them, and the chirping whir of crickets swells and fades as they pass.
She leans back in her seat and gazes out at the moonlit land and the dark, sepia tones of the hills and mountains. The dew is settling down from the heat of the day, and she can smell the green, the wet leaves and grass. It’s her birthday, she realizes. She was born on this day. Not here, somewhere else, but the stars were all aligned in the sky in the same way.
She rests her arm up the edge of the door and slides her hand out into the warm wind, feeling the tug and resistance against her fingers. It feels soft and powerful at the same time, and her fingers feel delicate. They lift and fall with the currents of air, and she tilts her hand, brings her fingertips together and points them into the wind so they slice through with ease, like a rocket.
She smiles.
“It’s good to see you smile.” His voice is quiet. That soft tone he uses so rarely. The intimate one that cracks her in two.
She rolls her head against the back of the seat, turning to look at him. His attention is back on the road, and she
studies the way his fingers curl around the steering wheel. He’s wearing a flannel shirt as a jacket, and a long-sleeved, white Henley beneath it. The sleeves of both are shoved up high on his forearms, and the contrast between his skin and the fabric is dramatic, even in the darkness.
She can’t help it. He’s so close, and they’re alone, out in the middle of nowhere, with no one watching. She can notice the way his jeans gather around his bent knees, or the sharp lines of his profile in the moonlight. She can notice the little ways he moves, and how he smells good, and the five o’clock shadow on his jaw.
When he glances at her, eyes grazing over her wind-blown hair, she realizes he can notice similar things about her.
“I’m okay,” she reassures him, because she knows he feels like something is up with her. And just the fact that he’s done this for her has made her really feel okay.
“I know,” he insists. He keeps driving.
“I know you have an early briefing tomorrow.”
He just glances out at the moonlit fields and gives a faint smile. “Let me know when you’re tired.”
She doesn’t want to go home. She wants to ride here, beside him, and feel like they belong. Like they’re going somewhere. She tilts her hand out into the wind and lets it grab at her fingers, and she feels that core inside of her letting go a little, aching and singing at the same time. This is his truck, his private space, and he’s brought her into it and made her a part of it. He doesn’t want to take her home anymore than she wants to go.
She watches him for a while. Watches his hands and his face and the way he drives. She watches the thoughts pass through his mind and the way his eyes flicker over to her from time to time, and the way the corner of his mouth lifts upward when he meets her gaze. It makes her ache, but she doesn’t break…
And then she watches the forests flying by in the night; the warm, spring wind blowing fingers through her hair. When she finally gets tired, she doesn’t tell him. She just falls asleep.
He still drives until morning.
+