Thanksgiving in the Springs
Author's Note: No, I don't own them, or I would have resolved THE SHIP quite awhile ago. TPTB own them. I just play with them.
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It was 4:30 on Wednesday afternoon, and the house had been cleaned from top to bottom. Sam stood in the kitchen, mentally checking off tasks and supplies. She had polished her mother's silver serving pieces and set the table. Her goal was to get everything she could do today completed by evening. "Arrrggghhhh!" she thought to herself. "Too many details!" This was more complex than deciphering a computer program! She grabbed the notepad and pen by the phone and sat down at the counter. "Geez, I could never have gotten all this done if I had worked today!" she thought. "Once I get this written down, I can stop thinking about it!"
She scrawled, "Thanksgiving dinner – 12-noon," at the top of the pad and drew a line under it. Then, she began listing the essentials:
Turkey: Pick up at O'Malley's, 10:00am Thursday
Dressing: Cornbread baked, crumbled and in a covered pan – other ingredients here
Cranberry Sauce: In the fridge (Use Mom's cranberry server – in dining room)
Sweet potato casserole: Mom's recipe - Ingredients here -- put together in white casserole dish Thursday morning
Green bean casserole: Siler. She smiled, remembering his offer to help when she had invited him. "Hey!" he said. "It's three ingredients! I can handle it. I've been making it for years. It's my specialty!"
Wine: Daniel. "Simple enough," Sam thought, "the perfect domestic task for Daniel."
Rolls: Carolyn. Carolyn Lam said her mother's roll recipe was the best in the world. Good. That was one item Sam didn't want to tackle. She had never used a recipe that included yeast, but she was certain it would be more complicated than the chemical formulas she dealt with in her research. Cakes and pies were stressful enough!
Dessert: Sam wanted something different, so she had spent the early morning hours painstakingly making her grandmother's lemon pound cake recipe. She also picked up some iced brownies from her favorite bakery. And, for tradition's sake, she made two pumpkin pies. All in all, she was pretty proud of herself. "I hope everything tastes ok," she thought. "Maybe I should take a nibble from each one just to make sure….."
Walter promised to come early with a veggie tray and dip for appetizers. Teal'c was making a fruit salad, Cam was bringing iced tea and a variety of sodas and General Landry — well, you didn't exactly ask generals to bring a covered dish — but he had volunteered to make deviled eggs. Sam smiled at the thought of her gruff new boss spooning an egg, sweet pickle relish and mayonnaise mixture into hollowed-out boiled egg whites. Suddenly, she imagined him in a frilly white apron and a chef's hat. "Whoa!" she said out loud. "I need to forget I ever had that thought!"
She was trying to banish the ridiculous picture from her mind when she heard a noise coming from the front porch. She steeled herself momentarily, trying to analyze the sound. A key turned in the lock. Then, the door opened and a familiar voice called out, "Honey, I'm home!"
"Jack!" Sam moved toward the door that led from the kitchen to the foyer. By the time she made it there, his long legs had carried him the distance, and he scooped her into his arms. His lips descended on hers, and she was carried away by the welcome feel of his kiss. She curled her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair. He pulled her closer, and she relaxed in the comfort of his warmth. When the kiss finally ended, they were both breathless...and smiling.
"Wow!" Sam gasped, leaning back to look up at him. "Three weeks is way too long!"
"Three hours is too long," he grinned.
"How long can you stay?"
"Well, Congress has adjourned for the holidays, and Washington is really slowing down. So, barring a major crisis, I'm home until after the New Year."
She ran her hand from his jawbone down to rest on his strong, broad chest. "Wow! Quality time. I like the sound of that."
"Yeah, me too," he said, and kissed her cheek. He nuzzled her ear before his lips moved down to her neck. The feel of his soft, warm breath caused a flurry of butterflies in her stomach, and she sighed. "So, whatchya been doing on your day off?"
"Trying to make sure everything is ready for tomorrow. I was almost finished checking things off my list when you got here."
"I bet it can wait a little longer," he whispered, as he gave her a wink and a sexy, lopsided smile. She felt a shiver run up her spine.
She grinned back. "Yeah, I think it can." Taking his hand, she led him to the bedroom.
S&J S&J S&J S&J S&J S&J S&J S&J S&J S&J S&J S&J S&J S&JSome time later, Sam and Jack awoke, both ravenous, and ordered a pizza. After they ate, Sam returned to the list she had left on the kitchen counter. The relaxation of the past few hours had cleared her mind, and the stress of hosting a major holiday meal for friends and co-workers had dissipated. Looking over the list, though, she suddenly realized two items were missing. "Damn!"
Jack looked up from the trash can, where he had just deposited the empty pizza box. "What's the problem?"
"I forgot something," she muttered, clearly disgusted with herself. "And the stores have probably all closed by now."
"Not the cornbread?" he asked, one eyebrow arching up.
"No, not that," she said. "It's baked, crumbled and covered in the pan by the range, per your instructions. The spices you wanted are there, and so is the canned broth."
"Good. It wouldn't be Thanksgiving without Grandma O'Neill's dressing. I think she'd forgive me for using canned broth, since we're not cooking the turkey ourselves." He paused, seeming to mull that point for a moment, before remembering that they had been discussing something else. "So what did you forget?"
"Whipped cream," she grimaced, "and a centerpiece. How could I forget topping for the pumpkin pies and something to make the table look nice? This Thanksgiving is special, Jack. I know I'm not very domestic, but I thought I had enough organizational skills to pull a meal together!"
"It'll be perfect," he said softly, walking over and putting his large, strong hands on her shoulders. "And I can solve one of your problems right now." He headed for the foyer and opened the door. In a few seconds, he reappeared, carrying an arrangement of mums, small gourds and autumn leaves, accented with three rust-colored candles. "Will this do?"
"It's perfect!" she beamed. "But how did you manage..."
"I ordered it online earlier this week and picked it up when I got to the Springs," he shrugged. "I set it down on the porch to unlock the door, and I guess I…uh…forgot about it 'til now." He grinned slyly. "Sorry I didn't mention it, but I kinda thought it was something I should take care of." He set the flowers on the counter.
Sam suddenly realized it was the first time he had ever brought her flowers. "What would I do without you?" she smiled.
"I hope you never have to find out."
"Yeah, me too." She pulled him toward her for a quick hug. "And you know, I think we can live without the whipped cream."
He returned the caress, then pulled back and cupped her chin in one hand. "Ya know, I think I can take care of that too. When I pick up the turkey, I can probably con O'Malley out of some whipped cream."
"You're a genius!" she exclaimed. "Why didn't I think of that?"
"You're the genius. I think you're just a little stressed out over hosting your first Thanksgiving as a married lady," he chuckled. "Although…once we tell them we eloped last month, I doubt anyone will notice whether we have whipped cream."
"Probably not." She giggled and leaned in to kiss his long, luscious neck. Once, twice…
"So," he asked, with a hitch in his voice, "to bed?"
"Oh, yeah." She stepped out of the embrace. "I'll put the flowers in the fridge for the night, and then, I'm all yours."
"Well, I should hope so, Mrs. Lieutenant Colonel Dr. Carter-O'Neill. But still, it's nice to hear it."
"Ya know, I've been thinking about the name thing," she said, "and I think it'll just be Lieutenant Colonel O'Neill. I've always thought hyphenating was overkill. Pick a name and stick with it."
"And you picked O'Neill?"
"The SGC just isn't right without an O'Neill there." She picked up the flowers and turned toward the fridge.
"Sweet," he replied. The tone of his voice told her he was smiling. "I'll start the shower. You'll…join me?"
"As soon as I turn out the lights."
Jack's footsteps faded down the hall. Sam set the security system, checked the front door and turned out the lights. The tiny lamp she kept on the kitchen counter cast a soft glow. She glanced in the dining room, where moonlight swept through the window and over the table. Everything was so peaceful. Everything was set up. Everything was perfect, and tomorrow, she and Jack would have a very special Thanksgiving with their friends.
"Sam!" Jack called from the bedroom, "water's just right! C'mon!"
"On my way, Jack!" she called back, as she started down the hall. Yes, it was going to be a very special Thanksgiving, indeed.