Disclaimer: I don't own SG-1, this is just for my own amusement. Etc. etc.
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"Hi honey!" Pete yelled across the hallway as he dumped his bag by the front door and hung up his jacket on the hook, throwing his keys in the bowl on the table. A mumbled greeting came from the direction of kitchen which he assumed was 'hello' while the acrid smell of burning... something wafted down the hallway to assault his nostrils. Screwing his nose up, he took a deep breath then headed for the kitchen.
Sam stood staring in dismay at a lasagna dish containing what he assumed had at some point earlier in the evening been lasagna. She was poking at the edges with a spatula. Turning to face Pete, he smiled at her as she turned towards him sheepishly.
"I, ah, thought I'd cook dinner," she explained, "but I went to check on my bike and got distracted."
Pete chuckled and stepped towards her. He squeezed her shoulder and pulled her into a hug as she stiffened.
"Good thing I'm not marrying you for your cooking abilities!" He cooed in her ear. Stepping back, he went to retrieve the brown paper bag from the hallway and returned with a triumphant smile, holding it out to her with one hand.
Sam took it from him with a curious tilt of her head.
"What's this?" She asked, her hand dropping slightly with the weight of the object.
"I know you usually save these for Teal'c but I thought you might like this one." He was smiling gleefully. "Don't worry, it's not vanilla!" He added, wagging a finger at her.
Sam placed the object on the counter, unscrunched the top of the bag and pulled out the smooth glass jar. A candle. She popped open the curved glass lid, held it to her nose and inhaled deeply. The heady scent threw her and she closed her eyes, enjoying the fragrance. Instead of the usual girly floral candles he had bought her early in their relationship after he found her stash that she kept for Teal'c, this one was distinctly masculine. Slightly sandalwood with a hint of pine, apples and cedar and top notes of fresh laundry and jasmine. It reminded her a little of the air before a Colorado autumn storm but there was something more familiar than that.
Opening her eyes, she noticed Pete's smile widen.
"I finally got it right, huh?"
Ignoring his question and turning to the drawer to fish out a box of matches, Sam lit the candle and then leant across the counter to tilt the window open to clear the smoke. She lifted the dish, dumped the contents in the trash can and threw the crusted dish into the washing up bowl to soak.
"So, takeout it is then!"
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Sam pulled off her dripping raincoat and hung it over the mat to stop the drips from warping her wooden floor. Unwinding the long wool scarf from round her neck, she switched on the light and headed for the kitchen. Pulling a bottle of wine from the wine rack under the counter, she grabbed a glass from the cupboard and poured until it was almost full. Taking a sip, she stared out of the window into the darkening sky beyond, the sunset being obscured by thick grey clouds and fat raindrops being blown across the window. Sam chuckled to herself as she idly realised that the weather matched her mood perfectly. She shivered as she realised that her jeans were soaked through and she would need to change. Passing the bathroom on her way to the bedroom, she turned on the hot faucet, testing the water with her hand before leaning down to put the plug in and dumping several glugs of bubble bath into the tub. Sam returned to the kitchen to collect her glass of wine and paused as she passed the stove. The candle jar sat next to the stove top with a small box of matches. She placed the box on top of the jar and wrapped her hand around the neck of the jar, trapping the box between the lid and her palm. She wasn't a candle person as a rule but this one had an almost irresistible scent that somehow seemed to soothe her tension. Over the past few weeks she'd almost burnt the large jar down to the last 1/2 inch and made a mental note of the name and brand to pick up a replacement, or several, the next time she visited the mall.
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Pete began to rummage in the cupboard under the bathroom sink looking for a replacement razor blade. He could have sworn he'd put them in there the last time he'd been to the store. Half of the top shelf had been emptied of toiletries and was filled with medium-sized jars of candles. As he pulled them out one by one, he frowned as he realised that they were all the same colour. Checking the label, he confirmed his suspicions - they were all the same brand and scent as the one he'd brought home for Sam last month. He smiled to himself as he realised that she must have gone and bought several more.
"Hey hun," he yelled from the bathroom, "Where did you put my razor blades?"
Sam stuck her head around the door.
"They're, ah, on the top shelf behind the mirror," she replied, noting that his feet were now surrounded by jars where he crouched.
He turned to face her and waved his hand at the candles.
"If I'd known you'd like that candle so much I'd have bought you more!"
Sam plastered a forced smile on her face. She had no idea why but she suddenly felt uncomfortable. And the fact that she still couldn't think what the scent reminded her of was starting to drive her crazy. She'd even taken to sniffing one of the towels in her gym last week to try to work out if it was their laundry soap!
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The pounding rain had let up about an hour earlier and she finished erecting their second tent as she watched Teal'c build a campfire out of the corner of her eye. Daniel was laying out their cooking gear and MRE's on a semi-dry groundsheet beside him as the General arranged several leafy branches around their campsite to try to create a wind block against the stiff breeze that was picking up. Sam bit down on a smile as she watched him busy himself with the task. It had been almost a year since he'd been a member of SG-1 and she could practically see the tension of being desk-bound easing away with each precisely placed branch. She felt a twinge of empathy for him. He was looking more and more stressed as the months went by.
Once Teal'c had got the fire roaring, he placed a pan of water over the flames to heat for their evening meal. Daniel sat quietly reading a book and Sam tapped away at her laptop. Jack returned from the woods and sank down cross-legged on the groundsheet next to her. The fabric crinkled loudly in the silence of the camp. He surveyed the area and found nothing of note. Turning his attention back to the Colonel, he craned his neck towards the screen.
"Just calculating power to weight ratios for the new weapons on the X-302s, Sir," she supplied into the silence.
"Ah!" He mouthed at her before lowering his gaze to her rapidly moving fingers. "Carter, do you have any sterilising stuff on you?" He asked, gesturing at her pack. Wordlessly, she reached into her side pocket and pulled out a squeezy bottle of standard issue hand gel. He took it from her, pulled out his standard issue knife and began to clean the blade before pulling an apple out of his pack and slicing off a chunk. Stuffing it in his mouth, he cut a second slice and offered it to Sam as he often used to do during the early days of SG-1.
"Apple?"
Sam waved it off.
"No, thank you, Sir. I think I'll wait for my MRE."
He nodded and stuffed the second slice in his mouth, swallowing loudly. An errant breeze broke through the shield and blew towards Sam. Her head shot up as she caught a whiff of the scent that had been bugging her for weeks. Frowning, Sam took another deep breath in. Sandalwood shaving soap and freshly-laundered BDUs, cedar and pine with a hint of floral gel and the crisp tang of apple. She turned towards him, her eyes wide as she watched him concentrate on slicing his apple, carefully avoiding the tough tissue at the core. Noticing her gaze on his, he turned and offered her another slice.
"Change your mind, Carter?"
She simply stared at him for a moment, her mouth slightly open and, as the seconds passed in silence, Jack's raised eyebrow lowered to a frown.
"Carter? Everything ok?"
Sam shook herself as she realised she'd been staring and a slow flush crept up her cheeks. Turning back to typing on her laptop she mentally shook herself.
"I'm fine, Sir. Just, ah, coffee wearing off." She waved her empty mug at him feebly.
Jack regarded her with a strange stare. The firelight hit her features making her hair flame red and her eyes sparkle in the darkness. He was hit with a surge in his gut at how stunning she looked even wind-swept and drowning in green hard cotton. Damn, he thought, you're supposed to be over this, son!
He was forced to look away.
Unaware that Sam was facing a minor revelation of her own, he missed her stiffen beside him as she squeezed her eyes shut against her own tumbling thoughts. Only now had she realised why she'd been so drawn to the scent of Pete's gift. It smelled just like off-world Jack O'Neill. Resisting the urge to scrub her hands over her face, Sam stared resolutely at the laptop screen. Those candles were going in the trash when she got home.
Or perhaps she'd wait until she'd burned them all and then not replace them. After all, she didn't want to hurt Pete's feelings.
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A/N: Just a little something that came to me whilst pondering my candle collection and my favourite one in it. For those interested it's Yankee Candle's "Storm Watch" scent. I can't get enough of it.
Reviews are always much appreciated, good or bad :)