TITLE: Stand-In
AUTHOR: Stacia
RATING: PG
CATEGORY: Angst, Romance
PAIRING: Sam/other
SUMMARY: She'd almost forgotten how this felt.
SPOILERS: nothing specific; set during season 4 or 5
ARCHIVE: Carterfic
DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp., and Double Secret productions. No copyright infringement is intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Special thanks to Faithful for the beta—and for watching the show just because I like it.
She'd almost forgotten this how this felt.
The silence. The weight of his gaze on the curve of her neck. On her averted eyes. On her lips.
She looked at him, almost sideways through the wisps of her hair.
Sure enough, his eyes were fixed on her lips, his mouth in a half-smile.
"What?" she asked. He just shook his head. She was unable to meet his gaze, instead looking down at her shoes.
She could feel the blush creeping up her cheeks. He moved closer.
She shifted her weight slightly, turning so that she was no longer leaning against the porch railing. One hand trailed down the placket of his shirt, and without lifting her head she looked up, her eyes once again focused on his lips.
A ghost of a touch on her hair, then gentle pressure on the back of her neck.
She stopped just before her lips met his, her gaze flickering from his lips to his eyes and back again. She had to stifle a moan when they finally kissed, the tenderness almost more than she could bear.
Then it was over. His arms wrapped snugly around her waist, and her head rested against the warmth of his chest. She breathed in his scent and smiled.
For a moment she felt safe, secure.
Her mind, ever analytical, drew parallels. She hardly knew this man; how was it that she felt as protected in his arms as she did walking with her teammates, weapons at the ready?
She tilted her head up for another kiss, deeper this time. His hands were in her hair and she was pressed against him, hands on his shoulders.
It felt so good to be held.
She pulled back, dropping a light kiss on his lips before resting her cheek on his shoulder.
Damn her overactive brain.
Because it was right. The anticipation, the warmth, the security—it wasn't because of him, this man who was so smart and funny and who smelled and felt so good. It was because of this. This embrace. The solid reassurance of strong arms holding her close.
She sighed, knowing that she had to get away from him, had to think things through. She was momentarily thankful that she wasn't premenstrual—the only time she was impulsive—but then reconsidered. Would it really be so bad if her emotions overrode her logic, if she invited him in?
Maybe not tonight, her mind said, but what about tomorrow?
"I should probably..." She angled her head toward the door. "Early briefing."
He squeezed her gently before pulling away. "Call you tomorrow?"
"That'd be good." She hesitated, then kissed him again before turning to unlock her front door.
After watching him drive away, she went inside, dropping her keys on the kitchen counter. She unbuttoned her top as she walked into the bathroom.
While brushing her teeth, she started to think again. Did she really feel something for this man? And if she didn't, could she do this? Would it be fair to him? To her? Was he just a stand-in, someone to hold the place until—
She squelched that thought, sighed, and turned out the bathroom light.