Air Force colonels are terrible flyers. Well, maybe not all of them, but when your day job is stepping through a wormhole to the other side of the galaxy, commercial flights are painful.
John plops his head on Sam's shoulder, rolling it so he's looking up at her with a plaintive look on his face. "Why couldn't we take the Hammond, again?"
Sam shushes him, hoping nobody overheard him. Then again, it's a noisy airport terminal during a storm. Another crack of thunder sounds outside, and Sam can see the lightning flash out a window. They're surrounded by crying children and beleaguered parents.
She and John have sequestered themselves against a wall of their gate and are on hour three of their two hour layover. "Because they're keeping beaming travel to official business only," she murmurs, "and going on our honeymoon isn't official business."
"Yeah, yeah," John says, sighing. "But we could be relaxing on the beach, doing disgustingly romantic things right now."
Sam laughs and reaches to find one of John's hands to hold. She squeezes it gently. "We're being normal people. This is what real people do on their honeymoons. Probably." She assumes, at least. Close enough.
"You don't know that," John accuses.
"Your head is making my arm go numb," Sam counters, shrugging him off but still holding his hand.
"That's not an answer," John points out. He runs his thumb over her knuckles and bumps his shoulders against hers.
"Look!" Sam says, seeing someone approach the gate and pick up the microphone. "I think they're going to let us board." She prays so to whatever deity may be out there listening.
"Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention please," the worker says in a tired tone. The people waiting with them quiet down, hanging on her every word. "We're so sorry for the delay. Unfortunately, there's been a further delay, but we should have you underway in fifteen minutes."
John growls under his breath. That's what they had said half an hour ago, and a half hour before that. "They're never going to let us out of here," he declares softly as the terminal around them bursts into loud, angry noises. "We're going to be stuck here forever."
"Well, they can't let us leave while it's still storming out," Sam says.
John checks his watch, his free hand drumming against his thigh. "There's no way we're making our connecting flight," he says. "I can go try to arrange a different route, if you want."
"Sounds good," Sam says, pulling her hand back and pulling her knees up to her chest. "I'll wait here with our stuff."
"See you soon," John says. He leans over to kiss her cheek, jumps up, and then bends down to kiss her cheek again before jogging off to find a help desk.
Sam rests her head on her knees and sighs. She had been hoping that the honeymoon would go off without a hitch. It isn't that she's insecure- she knows she's smart, sexy, and desirable in all kinds of ways. And if she hadn't known before, John had done more than enough to make sure she knew it.
It's just that she has never, ever managed to get a relationship this far. Honestly, she had been a little scared to get engaged (for a third time) and had been relieved when they managed to make it all the way to the altar without a major, relationship ending event. Their wedding had had been an absolute dream, but everything still feels so fragile. She's worried that, somehow, something will still go wrong.
Not that things can't go wrong after the honeymoon, but there's something about these moments that seem especially breakable to Sam. Part of her wants to be able to just settle into being married to John.
"Hey," John says, sliding in next to her and jerking her out of her reverie. "So we are gonna be stuck here for a while. Like. Until tomorrow. But! We should be able to get on a flight right to Athens, no more layovers, and the agent said it should be able to rearrange everything, no problem."
"Okay," Sam says, trying to sound upbeat. "So then we just stay in a hotel room tonight, and then we'll be on our way tomorrow?"
John sucks in a breath and looks at her with wide eyes. "Unfortunately, there are no hotel rooms available. With the storm, they've all filled up. So, we're gonna be here for tonight."
Sam pastes a smile on her face. "Well, we've roughed it in way worse places, right? No big deal." She nudges him.
"You're not mad?" John asks.
"It's not your fault," Sam says. She leans back and gets herself comfy, stretching her legs out in front of her.
"I'll take first watch, if you want," John says, beaming at her.
Sam smiles back, despite herself. She bumps her shoulder against John's. "Somehow, I don't think that a watch will be necessary. I don't think there are hostiles in this airport."
John bumps her back. "You never know. I think that little kid looks pretty hostile." He nods towards a little boy that's throwing a tantrum a few feet away from them.
"Only to his moms," Sam says, nodding towards two weary women looking on. "I think you and I are safe."
"I'll keep an eye on the situation," John says with mock seriousness.
"Thanks, John," Sam says, pressing her lips to his cheek. She lingers there, smelling the barest hint of his aftershave under the smells of travel- sweat, desperation, and staleness.
"What's wrong?" John murmurs softly, jaw rough against her cheek. "It's not just the delay."
"I was hoping that things would go smoothly. I really want you to have a good time." She doesn't know if he can even hear her over the chaos of the gate they're at.
Evidently, he can. John pulls back far enough to raise his eyebrows at her. "Our first date turned into a hostage situation and I had to talk down some dude who had a gun pulled on you. And we decided to go on more dates after that, because no biggie. Our wedding was crashed by aliens-"
"Hey, we invited them!"
"I'm counting Bra'tac as a wedding crasher."
"We invited him too."
"He called me something that I'm pretty sure was an insult and tossed me to the gateroom floor. If you and Teal'c hadn't been there, I'm pretty sure that he would have challenged me to a duel right then and there," John says, wincing.
"We would have had to postpone the wedding. Actually, I may have had to find a new groom," Sam says, wincing. Bra'tac would have wiped the floor with John.
John opens his mouth but then shrugs. "As it is, I still have bruises." He shifts uncomfortably. "How old did you say he was again?"
"About 150 years old," Sam says, biting her lip to try to keep herself from smiling.
"Damn," John says, shaking his head. "Anyway, the point is: this is pretty smooth. Nobody is in immediate danger. Nobody is threatening anyone." He shrugs at her. "And I'm here, with you. So I'm pretty happy."
"Yeah?" Sam says. Her smile breaks free.
"Yeah! This is nice, Sam. Like, don't get me wrong, I would rather we'd gotten going on schedule, because obviously, the beach is way more fun than this airport, but sitting here with you is more than alright," John says, slinging an arm around her. "The beach will still be there. There will still be plenty of time to teach you to surf."
Sam snorts and turns her head. She looks at his bright smile, the way the laughter lines around his eyes get deeper. It lights up his whole face, and he almost looks as young as he did all those years ago when they met. Little did she know.
She leans in and kisses him tenderly. His thumb swipes across her cheekbone, trailing down to brush against her bottom lip when they pull apart. "You're good at this husband thing," Sam says. Her breathlessness would be embarrassing, except she's never embarrassed in front of John anymore.
"You think so?" John asks, beaming at her.
"I do."
"I'm glad." John is quiet for a minute and then hops up to his feet, holding one hand down to her. "And now, I'm going to treat my wonderful wife to a fantastic dinner."
Sam lets him pull her to her feet, grabbing her carryon and slinging it over her shoulder. John's arm is looped around her shoulder and she slips her arm around his waist. "And where are we going for that?"
"We're going to have the best the food court can offer, of course," John says, looking at her slyly.
Sam laughs and nuzzles her face into the crook of his neck as he leads her out of the gate. "I love you," she whispers.
"I love you, too," John says, squeezing her shoulder.