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Title: Life As We Know It
Author: Ky (Venom_69)
Fandom: Stargate EssGeeWun
Category: Holidays, Romance
Pairing:
Sam/Jack
Rating: Mature
Archive: My site. Anywhere else, sure, just let me know where so I can come visit.
Disclaimer:
Don’t own them, never will. Promise to put them back in the state I found them. Song’s not mine either.
Author’s
notes: Fic 1/5 of the “Official Lisa Yaeger Christmas Challenge 2005.” I’d love to find Sam in this position
tomorrow morning, but I fear that it wont happen. No reason Jack can’t enjoy it, though… Also, I appear to have
a case of selective memory when it comes to Character deaths. Whoopstherenana.
Date: 24/12/2005
Copyright © to Venom,
2005
***
We call them cool
Those hearts that have no scars to show
The ones that never do let go
***
When
he cocks his head to the side, the image before him doesn’t change. He blinks several times, quickly, but that doesn’t
appear to have any effect either. Using the heel of his hands, Jack rubs his eyes hard – ouch! – but when he opens
them and can see properly again, it’s still there. She is still there. And he knows that it was just coffee in his mug
today.
“Carter?”
“Merry Christmas.”
”Carter!?”
“It
was Daniel’s idea.” She defends nervously and he can see the blush that has started in her cheeks and is quickly
working it’s way southward.
“And you went along with it?”
“Well, I… uh…”
“Carter?”
She
shrugs and… bits… of her start to move. “Janet made it.”
“The Doc is quite the seamstress
then.” He’s not exactly sure what to say, if he’s honest.
It had been yet another long day behind
a desk. Reading paperwork, signing paperwork and filing paperwork in the out tray. No matter how long he spends reading and
signing and filing, his in tray never seems to dissipate.
Life as the head of Home World Security wasn’t all
that bad, he reasoned, but there was still an undeniable urge to set his office alight.
There were perks that came
with the job, but he found himself missing his old team more than he was prepared to admit. Landry was a good guy, Jack knew,
and he would take good care of his former colleagues. But, damnit, it just wasn’t the same.
He still gets to
read all of their reports, so he is still up-to-date in what was happening at the SGC. He knows why Carter now had a scar
near her right ear, he knows that Daniel broke his arm – again – and he knows that they saved the world for the
tenth – eleventh? – time.
All without him.
Jack’s glad that they can manage without him, he’s
glad that they are all still fully capable of doing their jobs – not that he expected otherwise – but there’s
a small amount of vanity in him that wishes they still needed him. He was never irreplaceable, that was always known, but
it doesn’t stop the irrational feeling of unimportance that comes with being outside the action.
Today had been
just like every other day for him – Christmas Eve or not. He had spent his time reading over SG-1’s latest mission
report and following up on the potential new weapon that they discovered. The geeks that work with him will love it. Carter
probably wants to marry the damn thing, he had thought in amusement.
It was very rare that she was far from his thoughts
these days, especially now that he’d seen her naked. Of all the perks that came with his new job – nice office,
chauffeur driven car, furnished apartment – sleeping with Carter had to be the best of the bunch. Hands down.
Long-distance
relationships are never easy, he knows, but he thinks that they manage quite well. Even more so now that he has discovered
her fondness for phone sex. They have to live with seeing each other on weekends – when she's on Earth, anyway –
and the five days that pass without her seem far too long for his liking.
He’s not sentimental, he’s not
a mushy hearts and flowers type of guy, but he knows what makes his life better.
And she’s currently standing
in his living room wearing a red… thing.
Jack’s not entirely certain what to call it, really. He knows
what it’s supposed to be, the oddly designed bottom tells him that, but his brain just wont accept what his eyes are
telling it to see. The white trimming that hugs her breasts is fur, but the rest of her ‘dress’ – and he
really doesn’t have another word for it – is pure red, right down to the little ‘kick’ at the bottom.
He’s beginning to stiffen and his uniform pants suddenly feel far too tight.
She’s certainly the best thing
that Jack has ever had in his Christmas stocking, that’s for sure.
“Is this a joke?” He can’t
help but ask. He knows that it will probably result in a scowl and no sex for a week – which, really, isn’t all
that difficult given their current living status – but he has to ask.
“No, Jack.” And that
will never get old. The first time she said his name, the day after he’d been officially transferred to DC – incidentally,
while he was, er, letting his fingers ‘do the talking’ – he had just about had a stroke. He’s not
sure why, but there’s just something about her saying it that does him in every time.
“So, are you
my Christmas gift then?”
“Yes.”
“Do I have to wait until tomorrow to unwrap you?”
Smirk.
“I think we can come to some kind of arrangement.”
He moves over to stand in front of her. When he’d
opened his front door, back aching from his office chair and a headache forming, he’d almost fallen over when he saw
her, standing next to his sofa in this wearable – and deliciously tight – stocking. “Had Janet sown you
in?”
“It has a zipper at the back.” Yeah, he thinks, she always was the brains of this relationship.
Unconsciously,
his fingers move to trace the lines of her scar. Several months ago she was involved in a fight off world that had resulted
in a knife-wound to her neck. The scar has faded somewhat, but it still fascinates him. He knows that it’s illogical,
but Jack swears that the scar tastes different to the rest of her and his mouth immediately takes the place of his fingers
to test that theory out.
He could hear her laughing quietly even as she titled her neck to give him better access.
“You do love the scar, don’t you?”
Jack doesn’t bother replying.
Hands find the zipper
hidden behind a bright red hem, tugging it down. How she can walk in this thing he’ll never know, and it peels off her
like a second skin. He is not complaining as he moves back a step to watch her shift out of the fabric.
She’s
not wearing anything underneath the stocking and he can feel himself harden fully at the sight of her pale flesh before him.
She’s not shy – she has no reason to be – and she doesn’t flinch or move away as his eyes trace her
body, mentally re-learning what she looks like.
Instinctively, a whistle bubbles to the surface and he doesn’t
bother to hold it in. “Merry Christmas to me indeed.”
“I missed you.”
“I missed
you too.”
When Jack opens his arms to her, she steps into them without hesitation.
***
Much later,
her voice, when she speaks, is tinged with exhaustion and her eyes have already closed. “’Love you, Jack.”
Smiling,
he pulls her into his arms. “I love you too, Carter.”
He still calls her Carter, even though she’s
been an O’Neill for almost six months.
She doesn’t mind.
***
End
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