Authors note: This is my very first piece of fan fiction, I hope you enjoy it. Feedback is very welcome; please let me know what you think! I am interested in what people get from this story, because I have left a lot of things implied only. Enjoy!
Thanks to annsgcfan for beta reading and Spacegirlnz for beta reading and convincing me to post.
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Colonel Samantha Carter looked around nervously, before backing out of the driveway and parking around the corner.
Gathering up a few bags of groceries and tucking her laptop bag under one arm, Sam shook her head. If the neighbours were taking any notice of her, she was probably making them more suspicious. After all, she had been parking in front the house occasionally for years. But that was when he was here.
Heading towards the house, Sam fingered the key she had been given years before. It had seemed natural back then, for the members of SG-1 to exchange keys. It felt safe. Now the small key was on her mind constantly. It wasn't on her key ring with her other keys. No, she kept it in the pocket of her BDUs. That morning she had been working in her lab, when she suddenly dug it out and curled her hand around it. She wanted to use it.
Why had he kept the house? Why does he need a house in Colorado Springs when he spends nearly all of his time in DC? It made sense for him to stay on base when he was in town. But than again that was Carter logic, not O'Neill logic. He would do what he wanted to do.
Sam had kept one hand free on purpose, her groceries and computer carefully arranged in one arm, and easily let herself in the familiar front door and made her way to the kitchen. She set the bags on the bench and pulled out her Guinness. She had never been a big beer drinker before joining SG-1, but it just seemed right to drink it here.
Making her way into the living room, Sam reached out and locked the front door. She didn't know how long she was going to stay and she didn't want to wake in the morning, to find that she had fallen asleep without locking the door. Again.
Sam rested her beer and laptop on the coffee table and kicked off her sandals. It was still a bit cold to be wearing skirts, so Sam swung her legs onto the sofa and pulled down the blanket she kept draped over the back. After arranging the blanket over her legs, she reached for her laptop and settled in for a few hours of work.
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General Jack O'Neill drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove. He could have accepted Landry's offer to stay on base, but he wasn't working. After a meeting with Landry that morning, Jack had the weekend off. Not wanting to admit he still owned a house in the area, he had assured Landry that he had friends to catch up with.
Which was true. Jack had been disappointed to find Carter's lab empty, but it was Saturday afternoon. Maybe she was getting a life. Again. Jack shook that image out of his head as he swung into his familiar driveway.
Heading towards the house with his beer, Jack turned back remembering the small bag of groceries in the car. As much as he liked the thought, Guinness wasn't a complete substitute for food. With beer in one arm and groceries in the other, Jack stopped at the door. Sighing, he juggled to free a hand and unlock it.
Jack made his way to the kitchen, where he stopped dead in his tracks. The bench where he was about to unload his packages already had grocery bags. And beer. Jack thought about grabbing his side-arm, but decided against it.
Making his way into the living room, Jack found Colonel Carter asleep on his sofa, an unfamiliar blanket draped over her and a laptop balancing precariously on her lap. His look of surprise changing to a wide grin at the sight before him, he leant forward to gently rescue the computer.