Pairings: none, implied Sam/Janet, none, Sam/(Janet or Jack) whichever you prefer, none.
Category: Humor, Mush, Humor, PWP and Drama
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me except the plot bunnies. All Aliens, Astrophysicists, Archeologists, Soldiers and Surgeons belong to MGM & Co.
Spoilers: In the Line of Duty
"Tell me Dr. Jackson, how long have you been working for the SGC?" The short brunette asked as she examined his outstretched arm.
"Umm, five years."
"And how many times would you say, have I had to treat you for minor, and easily preventable wounds in those 5 years?" She asked as she gently prodded the swollen finger.
"Umm, quite a few?" He replied, wincing as she found the tender spot.
"Try one hundred and seventeen times Dr. Jackson. One hundred and seventeen 'accidents'. That's one hundred and seventeen unnecessary reports I've had to file… in triplicate."
"Umm, I'm sorry?" Daniel replied as he ran his other hand through his hair and looked to his friends for support.
"One might think that after one hundred and seventeen 'accidents' you would have learnt to be careful while on a mission Dr. Jackson. Maybe even learned some form of caution, perhaps?"
"I'm careful!" Daniel's indignant reply was soon drowned by the snorts of laughter from the rest of SG-1, "I am!"
"Don't you laugh Colonel, you were supposed to be keeping him out of trouble. You promised to watch over him." The embarrassed Colonel looked everywhere but at the glare focused at him by the angry physician.
"Yeah, well, how was I to know he'd hurt himself. He was in a museum for Christ sake. Everything was safely behind glass. They even let children run around unsupervised"
Janet just sighed and shook her head; a faint smile ghosted across her face only to be replaced by a disapproving mask. "You do know that this is a diplomatic mission don't you Dr. Jackson?"
"Yes Doc... 'tor Frasier." The last added after Janet released his hand with a glare.
"You do know that I didn't bring my medical kit with me?"
"Yes Doctor Frasier."
"You're aware I have no choice but to improvise?" a faint snicker was heard coming from the rest of SG-1 but a quick glance showed only concerned and interested expressions.
"Yes Doctor Frasier."
"Sam, I don't suppose you have something that I can use to help Dr. Jackson do you?" Sam grinned as she flamboyantly presented the shorter woman with her beloved pocketknife.
The doctor smiled as she carefully opened the knife and made a show of examining its blade, before reaching again for Daniel's hand.
"OK Danny let's see if we can't get rid of that nasty splinter for you."
It was a better than average spring day at the park. The sky was blue and clear, the grass was green and lush and the breeze, though strong, was warm. A lone duck could be seen swimming in the pond at the center of the park. Two dogs barked as they passed one another while trotting along beside their health conscious owners, and three woman sat on a blanket enjoying themselves on the edge of a large grassed area.
The shortest of the three, a brunette, sat back a smile on her face as she read her book, glancing occasionally at the two blondes that huddled together on the other edge of the blanket.
Twin heads close, their attention was focused on the fragile seeming object on the ground in front of them. The older of the two reached into a bag beside her and pulled out a largish ball of string, which she tossed at her younger friend. The girl shrieked as she was caught unaware. The ball flew past her shoulder and out into the park, followed closely by the small dog, which had been lying peacefully at her side. Fetch was one of his favorite games, though to be honest he wasn't particularly good at bringing the ball back or even parting with it for that matter.
There was a moment of stunned silence as the two blondes looked at each other, then with a yell they took off after the dog. Cries of "No" and "Drop it" echoed around the park as they tried to retrieve their string. Laughter from the watching brunette formed a joyful backdrop to their cries.
After minutes of laughter, the brunette took pity on her companions. A single command returned the dog to her side and another saw him drop the ball neatly at her feet before collapsing in a panting heap beside her. She rewarded the happy hound with a pat and a few words of praise before nudging the soggy mass of string towards the older blonde with her foot. Wary of contamination she wiped her foot on the grass and then the blanket before returning to her silent reading.
The blonde, having regained her breath opened her mouth to speak, but realizing she would only end up looking more the fool, she contented herself with a shake of her head and a glare at the unrepentant pooch.
Though the tall blonde had dealt with much worse things in the past, she was reluctant to touch the sticky mess. Not wanting to look squeamish in front of her friends, she picked up the ball and proceeded to unwind the wet string. Once the worst of the mess was removed, she reached into her pocket for her knife. Flipping out the blade she neatly severed the affected string and passed the remaining ball to her friend. She carefully wiped the blade clean and returned the now closed knife to her pocket.
She turned to help her young friend attach the string to their project, but was pulled up short by a not so subtle throat clearing and look from the brunette. Chastened she bundled up the ruined string and carried it over to the bin. Another pointed glance encouraged her to wash her hands at a nearby tap before returning to her fun. The smile the brunette flashed her upon her return was all the reward she needed and was soon joined by the smile on her young friend's face as together, astrophysicist and alien, they launched their kite into the sky.
"Jeez Carter, would you stop wriggling and figure out a way to get us out of here," came O'Neill's irritable comment upon being jigged in the arm for the fifth time in as many minutes.
"I AM trying to get us out of here, and if you hadn't insulted the Chief's daughter we wouldn't have been tied up in the first place. So quit complaining and give me some cover!" Was the unusually snappish reply, followed moments later by a slightly calmer "Sir" as Sam tried once again to reach her left armpit with her hands tied firmly behind her back. Levering herself up onto her knees she tried a different approach, only to loose her balance and fall headfirst onto Teal'c's bound form.
"Perhaps I could be of some assistance Major Carter" was the Jaffa's calm response to finding himself covered by a squirming blonde.
"Nahh, It's OK, I've almost got it."
The three men watched puzzled yet enrapt as Sam continued to twist and turn occasionally revealing an alluring stretch of skin and muscle.
A triumphant "yes" drifted up from the vicinity of Teal'c's lap as Sam, apparently having achieved her aim, brought her hands out from under her shirt. A small, thin pocketknife clutched firmly in her hands for all the guys to see.
"A pocketknife, where on earth did you get that?" Was O'Neill's startled inquiry.
"On Earth, I got it from my brother when I was 12. Now will you please be quiet before you wake the whole village and get us into more trouble," came the distracted reply as she carefully flipped out the sharp blade and commenced working on her bonds.
"Very funny Carter, now tell me how you managed to keep a knife when I know you were searched like the rest of us."
"Well, you saw me retrieve it Sir, you should know."
"All I saw was you fishing around under your armpit as you nose dived into Teal'c's lap."
"I didn't nose dive into Teal'c's lap, I lost my balance and Teal'c was gentlemanly enough to catch me." The 'unlike some' remained unspoken as she finally freed her hands and went to work on the wisely silent Jaffa's restraints.
"Yeah, but that doesn't explain how you smuggled a pocketknife in your armpit." Jack snapped back as he turned and presented her with his bound hands.
"It wasn't in my armpit, Sir" Sam ignored the outstretched hands and moved on to free Daniel as Teal'c rose silently and went to check whether their discussion had aroused any attention from the surrounding village. Content that their impending escape was undiscovered he too ignored the struggling Colonel as he scanned the room for potential weapons, or a way out.
"Oh, for crying out loud guys lighten up, how was I supposed to know she would take offense at my joke."
"I would have thought the slap you received from Lt. Mathers after telling her that 'joke' would have been a clue, Sir."
"She does have a point Jack," Daniel added as he rubbed his wrists and took up lookout duty at the door. "It's pretty tasteless no matter what the culture."
"Fine, fine, OK, I'm sorry. I promise not to tell that joke again. Now will you please untie me so we can get out of here?"
Aware that the colonel's complaints were getting louder and might soon attract unwanted attention Sam decided to take pity on him. Pausing briefly to re-adjust her bra and tuck in her shirt, she moved over to free Jack.
She could see the realization pass over her superior officer as he watched her approach. "Your bra Carter? You keep a knife stashed in your bra!"
"Yes sir I do, so do several other women at the SGC. Something you might want to keep in mind if you ever feel the need to tell that 'joke' again."
The look that passed over Jack's face convinced Sam that she had finally made her point so she made quick work of freeing the now pale man and together SG-1 slipped quietly out into the night.
It was more like war than love as the two forms battled for control. Hands which had held weapons rock steady in the face of any challenge trembled as they struggled vainly with buttons and zips. Legs, which had marched for miles and stood firmly to attention in all weather, threatened to cave under the storm raging within. And mouths, which had tasted the food of worlds unimaginable, feasted hungrily on the taste and texture of their partner's skin.
Moans and whimpers pierced the air as the tide turned and clothing, the enemy of touch, fell unwanted to the floor. Uniforms, starched, pressed and always to be treated with respect were flung uncaringly over the room. Whuff, flutter, thunk, they fell. One form paused for a moment as the latter sound registered. The other took advantage of their distraction to gain the upper hand and nudge the unresisting form onto the bed. Attention regained the struggle resumed as the two battled to taste, touch and become one.
Washed away in a flood of pleasure they were totally unaware of the stray moonbeam which invaded their sanctuary and meandered its way across the room. Illuminating one after another, the discarded signs of their lives. Jackets rich with medals, ties, shirts, pants and skirts all baring witness to a life of rules and regulations which had kept them apart. Discarded also, a cherished pocketknife lay lost on the floor, a testament to a tradition of care kept loyally since childhood completely overturned by an adulthood of frustrated love and want.
Jolinar nodded distractedly as she stared at the man on the bed. Covered in bandages he was as anonymous as always, but the goa'uld presence filled her senses. The Ashrak, here on earth and helpless before her at last. It was too great an opportunity to miss.
Barely hearing what the doctor was saying she left the room in search of a weapon. A soldier standing guard a few doors down provided her answer.
"Your weapon, give it to me" She demanded. Practice from her years of undercover work came to the fore preventing the tell tale glow of her eyes before if could blow her cover.
The soldier looked at her questioningly. "Ma'am?"
"I am Captain Samantha Carter and I need your weapon now, give it to me."
Startled he handed over his gun, the tone of authority in her voice demanding his immediate obedience.
Barely pausing to acknowledge him she grabbed the gun, her body automatically releasing the safety and chambering a round as she ran back to the room. The sound of the soldier's footsteps echoing her own as he followed her, calling on his radio for backup.
Janet, who had been updating the nurse on the care of her patients was startled by the tone of Sam's voice and turned to see what the problem was. Seeing Sam take the gun and race back to the room they had just left Janet pushed the files into the hands of the equally puzzled nurse and raced after her friend.
Bursting into the room Jolinar raised the gun and fired three shots rapidly into the Ashrak's face. Killing him before anyone had a chance to stop her.
"What on earth, Sam? What are you doing?" Janet asked as she placed her body between Sam and her patient and reached to check for a pulse.
"Get away from him Janet, he's a goa'uld!"
"Don't be ridiculous Sam, there was no sign of goa'uld on Nassia besides which he is covered in bandages you couldn't possibly..."
Whatever else Janet was going to say was cut off as the remains of the man's mouth fell open and the angry goa'uld sprang out intent on taking Janet as its new host.
Already prepared for this possibility Jolinar was in action, reaching for the goa'uld, her hand a blur as she caught it mid leap, millimeters from Janet's open mouth.
Time seemed to stop for a moment as all the participants paused to register the deadly tableau, then sped up again as the Ashrak, angered by its captivity shrieked and surged forward once more, determined to reach the comparative safety of a new host.
Tossing the now useless gun on the bed Jolinar brought her other hand up to her pocket. In seconds the Ashrak was dead. Head severed neatly from its body by the blade of Sam's pocketknife. Though clearly dead, the body spasmed and writhed, blood pumping and splashing them all, until, with a final shudder all movement ceased and the goa'uld lay limp and dead in Jolinar's hands. While Sam was sickened at having killed two living beings, Jolinar rejoiced that her hunter was dead.