Choices, by Floopygirl
Spoilers: Point of View
Pairings: S/J, minor references to others
Disclaimer: not mine
A/N: Version 1 was fluffilicious but rather boring. Version 2 was similar. Version 3 needed polishing, and Version 4 is maybe getting there. I have no idea whether this works or not.
xxxxx
She fumed. Fumed through the briefing, avoiding the concern in Daniel's eyes, the steady watchfulness in Teal'c's. She didn't need to avoid his – he couldn't look at her. The coward.
She fumed as she worked out in the gym. Feet pounding on the treadmill, sweat soaking her back and then her front, gasping out each breath as if it were her last. So weak.
She fumed in the shower. Hot water beating down on her, sponge gliding over tired flesh, shampoo stinging her eyes. How could he?
She fumed as she drove to his house. Foot on the accelerator, windows open to the night breeze, music blaring from the speakers. Did he have no shame?
xxxxx
The doorbell rang, but to no response. Light blared through the windows, chances were he was in. She pushed the button again and again, before giving up on subtlety and just leaning on it.
When he finally answered his hair was rumpled, eyes red, and he clutched a bottle of beer while holding onto the door frame for support. She saw (annoyancehopeconfusionrealisationirritation) flash over his face. Finally settling on confusion.
He demanded to know what she was doing on his doorstep at that time of the night, she smelt the alcohol on his breath. Pushed him into the house and slammed the door behind her. Raised her face to his.
Lips. Tongue. Teeth. A gasped out question leading to an open mouth. Perfect.
Pure sensation, no thought required.
Loss as his mouth moved from hers, followed by relief as it settled on her neck. Licking, sucking, nipping.
One hand on his back, the other in his hair, caressing, stroking. Then tugging sharply.
His head snapped back and dark eyes met her. (angerlustpainqueryneedaffectionconfusionapologywantanger) She smiled at him, enjoying the look on his face. Released his hair and turned to open the door.
A hand shot out to grab her wrist, holding her hard. She turned and saw silent accusation. No need for words when you have body language and dark, dark eyes.
Dulcet tones, each word clearly enunciated. "Sir, we can't. The regulations"
No more pressure on her wrist. The sound of the door slamming behind her.
xxxxx
She sat in her car, driving. Thinking.
Parallel universes, each one spawned from a choice you make. So many possibilities, past, future and present. So many other Sam Carters out there.
Tonight she hadn't left his house but had instead led him to his couch, teasing him till finally he'd begged for her to stop and be still. He'd come to her home, wordless in apology but with eyes that said all he needed to say.
She'd worked all night in her lab, silently fuming and replaying those moments with him and her over and over again (the laws of probability dictated that there were other universes in which she was spineless, but she didn't have to like it). He'd shown up at her house, resignation letter in one hand and diamond ring in another, begging her to be his.
She'd gone to Jack's house and kissed him, only to be pulled away angrily by Daniel's hands. She'd fled to Janet, pouring out the whole sad story and ending the evening by hugging a cold china toilet bowl after too much tequila and ice cream.
Teal'c had found her in her quarters, told her O'Neill was a fool, pushed her up against a wall and made her forget Jack's name, her cries echoing off the blank concrete walls. She liked that last one – it had a certain style about it.
But the (thoughtsknowledge) of all the other parallel universes no longer disturbed her. Compare the look on his face after their kiss with the way he'd looked at her (sadnesssympathyfarewell). He burned for her and would continue to dream of her, and so she hadn't needed to stay. Another choice made, another universe spawned.