As much as I hate to admit it in my current state of mind, which is lonely and depressed, I have to say, the view from my balcony is somewhat awe inspiring. The sun is just sinking down behind the ocean, and the various towers of atlantis seem to glimmer in the dusk. The fresh air is a nice change from the stale smell of an underground bunker. If only a certain someone was here to share it with me. I'm barefoot and wearing a pair of ragged cut off track shorts, because it's the only thing I can comfortably get on over my ridiculous cast, at least for now. I'm sure once the rest of my bruises go down a little I'll be a more inclined to try. At the moment though, it's not like I really need to worry about anyone apart from keller seeing it, confined as I am to bed rest.
Sitting in the chair I spent 10 minutes fighting my way onto the balcony with, I am way too exhausted to bother making an attempt to get back to bed. I figure I've got another few hours before Jennifer comes in to check up on me, and by then, surely, I will have mustered the strength to struggle back inside. For now I'm content to sit here and mope.
Dear lord, when did I get this pathetic? I've been injured before, and much worse. My medical reports have their own accordion file. I've always gone home on my own, and been perfectly fine healing in peace and quiet. I know I'm in a different galaxy and far from the comforts of home, but I have a decent enough support system here, even if it is only because they're doing their jobs. Mckay has checked on me a few times over the last two days, although I don't suppose he'll be around anytime soon, after I nearly kicked him out the door last time(and I may have, had I had two functional legs.) He was trying to be thoughtful, and as much as I respect the fact that he has definitely grown from the arrogant asshole I first met...well he's still McKay.
John stopped by and dropped off a six pack of guinness(which he clearly wanted nothing to do with) I suspect Cam sent in through in lieu of the macaroons he knows I despise. John and I played a few rounds of chess but after beating him every single time, and with my obviously deteriorating mood, he probably figured he ought to get out of dodge before he put himself in the same line of fire that Rodney had earlier.
It's just different being in charge. While I may have been the boss on SG1 for a while, Daniel and Teal'c knew me so well that I never really had to explain how I was feeling or ask for what I needed. They were just there when and how I needed them. Now though, not only do I not really know any of these people, but I'm their boss. I can't risk any sign of weakness, even if it is only to John or Jennifer. A lot of people still resent me for taking Weir's place, even though someone had to. It's taken me a lot to gain their respect. I have no intention of losing it again.
Don't get me wrong, I love my position. It's just isolating in a way I never fully comprehended before. It makes it a lot easier to understand where Jack was coming from when he got promoted and took over the base. It changes you. Makes you more reserved and careful with your feelings. While at the time I took it personally, and some of it probably was...what with Pete and all. I realize now it wasn't just me he withdrew from. I've been trying to keep myself distracted but well...it's not exactly going well.
I spent a half hour or so reading some magazines Jennifer dropped off for me, but our tastes in frivolous reading material are vastly different. While I could go for a science magazine, maybe mechanics or bikes. Hell even victoria secret might peak my interest to some degree. Put people and cosmo are the kind of drivel that make me think I really should be an alien. Needless to say they didn't keep me entertained for very long. My reports are caught up, and John has taken over my post for the time being so there's nothing new I need to handle. I checked my email probably six times before I figured I should move away from the computer for my own sanity.
Which brings me to now, sitting on my balcony alone, wallowing. I never used to wallow. I used to be strong and independant. Now all I can think about is the one person who hasn't sent me so much as a get well email. We get daily data bursts from earth, so there have been two days in which he could have sent something. I know I am being incredibly selfish. He is a general after all, and a busy one at that. For all I know he's been in with the president and the joint chiefs all week. Unfortunately all the logic in the world doesn't seem to make me feel better.
Much to my utter embarrassment, I am tearing up just thinking about it. It occurs to me that I should probably ask jennifer to switch my pain medication(which I should really NOT be drinking beer with) I have been known to react badly to a few pain meds ever since my blending with Jolinar. Maybe I can blame them for my maudlin behaviour? As I consider my absentee general and the fact that he's turned me into a great big sap, who craves cabins and fishing and sunday morning breakfast, instead of science and work and adventure, my eyes start to slip closed of their own volition. It vaguely crosses my mind that jennifer is going to kill me for falling asleep without my leg being elevated, but I'm too tired and morose to care.
I must have slept for a while, because when I come to it's dark behind my closed lids, and there's a warm hand on my cheek...a large, decidedly male hand. I open my eyes to meet sparkling brown. I'm not entirely sure if they're sparkling with humor or worry, but I suspect it may be both. "Hey beautiful." He runs his thumb along my bottom lip. "You're going to be the death of me woman."
It takes me a minute to register that he's actually there kneeling in front of me, not some figment I've dreamed up in my mildly drug induced state to make myself feel better. When my brain finally catches up I lurch forward, a little faster than I mean to and pull him against me, startling a surprised grunt out of him. He's balanced precariously against me, trying desperately not to lean on my injured leg. It finally occurs to my muddled brain that I should probably say something.
"You're really here." Doh, that was a great start. My voice comes out much needier than I'm comfortable with, my cheeks flaming with embarrassment.
He chuckles a bit, even though his face is more serious than I'm used to. He must have really been worried. My shirt is clenched in his right hand, in what I'm sure is a completely unconscious gesture, as though he's afraid I'll disappear before his very eyes. I really have been selfish. I may have been alone, but he probably got a phone call in the middle of the night, saying I was injured. He would have been on the phone to Landry, and then his superiors to arrange leave, and then spent hours flying to colorado, and then the mandatory 24hrs at midway. No wonder I haven't heard from him. He's probably been going bonkers. I'll need to send a gift basket to the guys at midway. I'm sure he made them suffer with him.
"I'm ok jack. I'm here."
"Don't do that again." His voice cracks and he leans further into me, hiding his face in my neck. "You're supposed to be safe now."
"I am. I'm safe. And much better now you're here...how long do you have?"
He pulls away and stands, his knees creaking on the way back up. He takes my hand on the way, needing some kind of physical contact with me. "I've got a couple days. More if I need it. you shouldn't be out here like this." he waves a hand in the general direction of my cast. "lets get you inside."
It takes us a few minutes to get me up out of the chair and into my room, and I don't know if I could be more relieved once I finally drop down onto my mattress. Trying to walk with one leg is bad enough when it hasn't gone to sleep from sitting in a chair in one position for too long. Jack is still clinging to my hand as though his life depends on it, and I suddenly feel a whole lot better about my own neediness. At least it's not just me. I realize once I've settled in that he's turned so that he's no longer facing me. It takes me physically pulling him to face me, which is quite a feat considering I'm injured and exhausted. He does finally give in and he meets my gaze again. What I see makes me suck in a breath. His eyes are glassy and his jaw is working hard, trying to rein in his emotions. If I didn't know my big tough badass general better I'd say he was near tears. Surely I must be hallucinating. He struggles against my palm, trying to escape my scrutiny, but I won't let him.
We've been together about six months now, albeit maybe 3 weeks total has actually been spent in each other's presence, and not all of that was even on a personal basis. We wasted a good while after I left his chain of command dancing around each other, at least until I showed up on his doorstep and forced the issue. We've had intimate moments, we've traded the 'L' word even, but overall things have been pretty light. Even my departure for Atlantis was met with more encouragement and well wishes than it was real emotion. We're both so used to being in the service, letting our personal desires fall to the wayside. This...this is new. I open and close my mouth a few times, not really sure what to say, to make it clear that I do understand. That I think no less of him, in fact it has caused a tightness in my chest that I've never experienced, and that really I'm just completely flabbergasted that someone could feel such powerful emotion toward me.
Before I have a chance to say any of these things, his hand is in my hair and he's crushing his lips to mine. All of our encounters so far have been gentle and playful. Amazing, but controlled. This is Jack O'Neill undone. This is a desperate man clinging onto hope for dear life. And it is sooo exactly what I needed. When he pulls back to get his hands on the hem of my shirt his eyes are near black. He makes eye contact for a moment, looking for a sign that this is ok...that I'm not in any pain. At my slight nod he tears my shirt up and off over my head.
Before I even have time to process, he is on me, sucking and biting at my skin, kneading a breast with one hand and grabbing onto my ass with his other. I feel like I'm on fire. He is marking me as his, and as the feminist inside me wants to argue, the rest of me is in sensory overload, and really couldn't care less. I don't know how he intends to deal with the logistical issue of my casted leg, but he's a smart man, I imagine he'll figure something out. It helps that I trust this man implicitly, and he can do pretty much whatever he wants with me.
He rips his mouth away from mine so that he can get rid of the shorts. He goes slow and gentle over my cast and then rips them off over my feet. I have no idea how he can change gears so fast, but it's touching that he can still look out for my well being when he is so out of control. He presses hot open mouthed kisses all the way up my uninjured leg, switching to the injured one where the cast meets flesh. He's mumbling to himself as he bites and licks at my inner thighs, his hands clutching at the backs of my thighs. It takes me a minute to figure it out, but I realize he's mumbling 'mine' over and over again.
A low groan escapes me at the realization, and I'm almost ashamed for enjoying it. Almost. But I love this man too much to actually be offended. And I wasted way too many years trying my damndest to not fall into his arms, and into his heart. Not that I'm finally here you will sooo not hear me complaining.
My hands slip into his hair and his head pauses as the juncture of my thighs. "Yours. I'm not going anywhere." This seems to slow him down a bit and he blinks up at me, as if just realizing I'm there, and not a hallucination. I can understand the feeling. We've spent so much of our relationship apart, it almost feels surreal when we finally DO get to be together. It's too bad I'm not really able to participate. It's been over a month since we've seen each other, and even then it was a team dinner and a quickie before I was back through the gate.
He maintains eye contact for a couple more beats, just soaking me in. When he returns to his task it's at a more sedate pace. Don't get me wrong he has definitely not lost any of his earlier intensity, he's just savoring the moment. The next few minutes pass in a blur of sensation and before I know it I tripping over the edge into oblivion. I'm almost ashamed of how little work it took. Almost. Mostly I'm just relieved and happy. It's never been easy for me to let go this way. Being in the field as long as I have has made it difficult to ever fully trust another and my brain doesn't exactly know when to shut down, as can be testified to by many a sleepless night and faked orgasm. I've never had that problem with Jack. He has a lot more practise demanding my attention, and boring is definitely not a word I would use to describe the man in front of me.
He climbs back up the bed, dropping a kiss every few inches. Normally he would be all self-satisfied ego at this point. Not today. Today he just stares at me intently for a few moments before rolling me onto my side away from him so my casted leg is on top. He pulls my leg forward and tucks a couple of pillows under it. He steps back from the bed behind me and I can hear the scrape of fabric on skin as he strips. I had almost forgotten he was still fully clothed.
Before long he's sliding up behind me again and there is hot flesh pressed against me all the way from my shoulder blades to my knees. His top arm wraps around me so his forearm is between my breasts, his hand pressed hotly over my heart. His hot breath flutters against the back of my neck, and I don't think I've ever been held so possessively.
His hips shift forward and he slides into me ever so slowly, partially i'm sure so that he doesn't jostle my bruised and battered body too much. Electricity seems to flow up and down my spine from where we are connected to where his teeth are bared against the flesh of my shoulder. The thought skips across my mind that if he leaves a mark I might have to kill him later, but it's gone in an instant. I can feel every inch of him as he slides oh so slowly back and forth. It's not exactly the deepest position but he is certainly making up for it in finesse.
The hand over my heart moves to cup a breast, rough thumb pad dragging perfectly against my swollen nipple. A strangled groan escaped me as he thrusts forward a little harder than before. He growls in response, pressing his teeth further into my flesh. "You are not allowed to leave me Carter. Not now, after everything." HIs hand clutches my breast tighter, pressing me back against him. Seriously...acting like a caveman is not supposed to be so...hot. Damn him for turning me into a pile of feminine goo.
He shifts again so he's hitting just the right spot and oh dear lord nothing should feel this good. He must be close by now, but he seems determined to go slow and intense right to the very end, even if it kills me. I can't even help the noises coming out of me at this point, but on the bright side he isn't being much quieter. I hope my walls are as soundproof as McKay says they are, because that is the last thing I want to deal with, what with John's quarters being right across the hall from mine. A few more slow thrusts and I'm gone. He's not far behind me and he muffles a groan into the back of my neck as he lets go.
He places several light kisses along the ridge of my shoulder blade and rolls away from. I let out an undignified noise at the loss of body heat and he chuckles softly in return. "I'll be right back."
I'm too satiated and sore to bother turning toward him but I hear the tap running in the bathroom a moment later. I must have drifted off while he was cleaning up because I wake to a warm wash cloth between my thighs. When he's done he sets the cloth on the bedside table and starts gathering up my clothing. Still naked he carefully rolls me onto my back again. With a lot more effort than it took to undress we manage to get me back into my shorts and a clean tank top.
Once I've taken my pills and he's gotten his briefs back on he climbs in next to me rearranging the pillows so my leg is elevated again. He curls up alongside me in what is usually my position, placing his warm palm against my breastbone, presumably so he can feel my heart beat again. "Seriously though...you're stuck with me."
"Hmm, nowhere I'd rather be."
tbc...