Title: Anything You Want
Author: Josephine
Date: September 11, 2005
Fandom: SG-1
Codes: Daniel/Sam
Rating: M
Word Count: 402
Summary: Daniel disappoints, and offers recompense
A/N: This takes place a while after 'Hathor'
"We need that translation, Daniel," Sam sighed.
"I'm sorry, Sam." Daniel ran a hand through his hair. "I'll make it up to you," he blurted out. "Anything you want."
A pregnant pause filled the office before Sam finally spoke. "Damn straight you will." She shut the door behind her and locked it with a hollow click.
He backed up as Sam came closer, almost tripping over a stool, until he was trapped against the worktable. "Sam?"
Gasping as she slid her hand down his chest to cup the front of his pants, Daniel glanced at the locked door, then anywhere else as Sam placed her cheek against his.
"This." Her fingers tightened, and Daniel bit back a groan.
"But only if you want to Daniel. You have to give it to me. I won't take it, not like—" Here Sam broke off, both of them thinking of Hathor. She pulled back slightly, to meet Daniel's eyes.
Daniel looked back, feeling Sam's rapid breath on his cheek. Her gaze was open frank, but there was a flare of need in its blue depths. Slowly, he nodded.
She kissed him, hard, rapidly getting his belt undone and his pants down around his ankles. His boxers were barely pushed aside before Sam was on her knees, his cock in her mouth.
"Christ, Sam!" His hands curled into fists at the wet warmth, then as one found purchase on the edge of the table, the other opened to rest on Sam's head. He couldn't look away, watching himself slide in between those lips of hers, deeper… deeper…
"In me," she panted, standing up and turning them both around. One hop and Sam was sitting on the table, thighs open, skirt hitched up around her hips.
"In you," Daniel repeated. Looking down, he followed her stockings past the garters that held them up to the soft mound of pale curls waiting for him.
They moaned into each other's mouths as she guided him in, Daniel setting a bruising pace, Sam's legs wrapped around his lean hips. He was close, too close to make it last, but he held off long enough to wait for her, spots swimming before his eyes as he came--
"I'm sorry, what?" Daniel blinked, focusing on Sam standing in front of him.
"We need that translation, Daniel," Sam sighed.
"I'll make it up to you," he said slowly, surreptitiously sliding a folder under a stack of papers. "Anything you want."