Disclaimer: None of the characters or situations belong to me, much as I might wish otherwise
Summary – Sam's POV through some of Upgrades. I know this has been done to death, so apologies for my lack of creativity. First fanfic
Spoilers: Upgrades
Pairings: Minor S/J
Category: Humour, I think. Hopefully other people will agree
Rating: PG
A/N This is my first piece of fanfic and has not turned out as planned at all, but I had so much fun writing it that I thought I'd post it anyway. The original plan was for a slightly more serious piece in 3rd person with the clichéd idea of "What if Jack was stuck behind the force field in Upgrades, not Sam?" Instead I wrote this. I am aware there are many shortcomings, eg that Sam's character not in canon, but I'm hoping that her hormonal imbalances could take part of the blame. Honest criticism would be greatly appreciated…
BTW, I'm British and therefore don't do US spelling.
Afterwards I could only look at our experience with the armbands as a bad trip. Oh, not that I've ever used drugs recreationally; there were all those frat parties I attended at college before realising that I really did prefer to stay in with a new physics text or work out at the gym. Still, after being on active duty in Iraq and four years as a member of the flagship team of the SGC I've been doped up on pain meds more times than I can remember. Not to mention those pesky alien beverages which always seemed to have different effects on our brain chemistries, though of late the naquadah in my blood had been filtering out most of those. While most of my experience with opiates and the like has knocked me out and left me eager to curl up into a ball and sleep forever, after the odd mission of life-threatening danger or just your basic earth-in-peril situation even the painkillers couldn't kill my adrenaline rush. Instead I'd been fired up, feeling invincible, invulnerable, raring to go - only the feeling of my head spinning and my legs' failure to hold me had stopped me from running out to get some more. Of course, maybe that was also due to another screwy post-Jolinar reaction to the meds, I don't know ... but what I do know was that the rush from the armbands exceeded all of those experiences a hundred times over.
There was no other explanation. While the Colonel had never been particularly bothered by the regs and certainly wasn't afraid of trying to dodge infirmary time, even he wouldn't disobey a direct order from General Hammond. Unless it was sneaking off-world to save the planet from Apophis' attack. Or a little girl having her memories stolen for the good of her people. Or one of a plethora of good reasons; the point was, even Colonel O'Neill wouldn't leave base against a direct order just for a steak. Or four. As for Daniel and I, we're positively cherubic in comparison... and technically I started the whole thing!
It was pretty cool, being the super-powered threesome. SG-1 has a well deserved reputation in the SGC as being the miracle-workers of the base: Daniel will translate any text in a minimum of time even if he's never seen the language before; I keep the gate working, redesign any number of naquadah reactors in my free time and rewrite the laws of physics on demand; Teal'c can take anyone and as for our Colonel, if there's a suicidal mission going, you can bet that he'll be the first volunteer and come out alive at the end of it. There might be other teams on the base, but come a crisis we seem to be the only ones who ever get anything done. But this was so much cooler: super strength, stamina and speed, and side effects be damned. No one could touch us – and that's how we slipped off base and into town.
I must say that the Colonel was looking particularly hot that night in one of his many leather jackets and a pair of tight jeans that fitted just right. Or even better. And Daniel of course... well those big baby blues would be enough to get him any girl in town even if it wasn't for the rest of the package. Daniel's like a brother to me but that doesn't mean that I don't have eyes, or don't notice all the women panting over him. Nope, Dad always said that if you're going to do something, do it properly: if I have to yearn for someone above me in the chain of command, I might as well go for my CO and the 2IC of the base. Mmm, those eyes, those shoulders, that bu... brown eyes. Did I mention those eyes?
Of course, I was wearing my cutest red spaghetti-strapped top with jeans and my favourite leather jacket, but we couldn't even take our layers off. While I'm not normally one to flaunt my curves that particular evening I wasn't at all averse to attracting some male attention, but the alien device strapped to my forearm probably would have got me more than I bargained for. Whatever: even with my jacket on I managed to get a couple of games of pool in while the guys stood by and watched with their beers. Hopefully watching one part of my anatomy in particular with all the extra bending and wiggling I was doing, but you never know. So what if my behaviour was shameless: did I mention I was under an alien influence?
Of course it all ended badly. Men never like to be beaten by a hot blonde, yada yada, take it out on the geek instead… It was more amusing to watch Daniel get into a fight than anything else: after his time on SG-1 he could more than take any of those guys, and with his bracelet of super-powered goodness… no question. And as for the Colonel (is it weird that I can close my eyes and picture his tight jeans but can't bring myself to think his name?), talk about death on two legs. Except there wasn't any, death that is… bruises, blood and broken bones, but nothing serious. I was just upset that I didn't get to have any fun and join in, but at least those jerks wouldn't hit a woman. All in all, it would have been a good end to a wonderful evening if we hadn't been thrown out and banned for life… or at least till the bouncers forgot our faces. And if they hadn't phoned General Hammond to complain. Guess that's the end of that SG hangout, for this team at least.
So there we were, duly reprimanded by the General and totally not caring. Confined to base while Apophis built his new ship, all our super-powers awasting. Is it any wonder that we chose to disobey orders again?
A/N: Should I continue, or write this off as a bad idea, sparked off by too much ice cream? Your opinions would be appreciated