Title: Slow Dancing in a Burning Room
Rating: T
Pairings: Sam/Martouf/Lantash
Author's notes: This liitle drabble has been sitting on my USB drive forever. I finally decided to dust it off and post it since I'm on a bit of a Stargate kick lately.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret Productions. This form of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Feedback: All comments welcome. Please read and review.
Notes: Italics denotes host/symbiote communication.
The tie was too tight and the pants cut into his skin in all the wrong places. He was beyond uncomfortable and the festivities had not even begun yet.
Martouf stood in front of the mirror slowly scrutinizing his reflection. The invitation that Samantha had hand-delivered to him several weeks before was lying on the smooth porcelain surface of the sink. He glanced down at it and his eyebrows furrowed together in thought.
"What do you think it will be like," he quietly asked Lantash for the thousandth time.
"I do not know, Martouf," answered Lantash, slightly irritated. Martouf had been asking the same questions ever since they had received the invitation. "Samantha said that it would be exciting. In fact, if I am remembering correctly, she said that it would be 'loads of fun'. I do not believe that the Tau'ri would have invited us if they had not thought we would enjoy ourselves so please stop worrying so much."
Martouf exhaled slowly, deliberately, "Yes, but she said there would be dancing."
The emphasis he put on the last word told Lantash all he needed to know about Martouf's current mental state. "I thought you liked to dance. You always enjoyed it when we danced with Jolinar."
"I do like to dance. I was just thinking that we might have the opportunity to dance with Samantha." He hesitated and then added, "I think I would like that very much."
Lantash tried not to laugh. "Is that what you have been so preoccupied with these last few days? The thought of dancing with Samantha?"
Martouf scoffed at Lantash in frustration and stood back from the mirror to inspect his clothing once more. The invitation said formal dress was required and Jacob had procured several black suits for the occasion. He had jokingly called them monkey suits but for good reason. There was nothing about the attire that Martouf liked. It was constricting and stiff, and it was suffocating and hot, especially around the collar whereas his normal Tok'ra uniform was loose and form fitting and quite cool.
Chiding himself for being so ungrateful for Jacob's troubles, Martouf grabbed the jacket and pulled it on over the white dress shirt. A knock at the door told him that the party was starting and his presence was required. He grabbed his invitation and stuffed it into the pocket of his jacket before joining Jacob in the hallway.
Several of the other Tok'ra who had journeyed to the Tau'ri home world were waiting with him, and they all looked as uncomfortable as he felt. Aldwin, Malek, and Delek were all wearing identical black suits and ties, and they were all pulling at the collars and ties in frustration. Jacob was decked out in his dress uniform from his Air Force days and he seemed to be having trouble keeping his stomach sucked in enough to breathe properly.
"Too much chocolate," suggested Lantash, no doubt thinking about all the Tau'ri sweets Jacob hoarded in his personal quarters for some of the longer periods of time between trips to Earth.
Perhaps the most vexed of all was Anise. She looked grim and Martouf's lips twitched as he took in the train wreck that was her ensemble. It appeared that Jacob had also acquired a special outfit for her to wear and he had done his best to cover as much of her skin as humanly possible without bundling her in a blanket. The pale grey dress had long, sheer sleeves and ended somewhere around the floor. Its shape was formless and it appeared to be made of some kind of itchy material akin to wool. Jacob had called it a dress but it reminded Martouf more of a heavy cloak.
"Well," announced Jacob, side eyeing Anise with worry, "we should get going. The Military Ball has already started."
Martouf nodded and the small group headed toward the ballroom. In reality, the room served as the commissary but it had been converted for the night into a grand ballroom resplendent with tiny flickering white lights cascading in waves from the ceiling and walls, silver and blue balloons and streamers in every corner and tied to small vases in the center of all the tables, and a small fountain in the very heart of the dance floor.
The lights were dim, casting long, arcing shadows across the walls, and the music was far too loud. There were so many people moving in and around the room that Martouf found it difficult to find any familiar faces. He surmised that there were at least two hundred people milling about in the limited space as Jacob guided them to the left side of the room where a few round tables had been assembled and where they found the members of SG-1.
As Martouf's gaze fell on Samantha, his heart nearly stopped. She was breathtaking in a sleeveless, gorgeous blue gown that matched her eyes perfectly. The ruffled hem fell just below her knees and there were sparkling bracelets on both of her wrists and a little jewel on a chain around her neck.
"Well, if this suit wasn't tight before, it sure is now!" said Lantash and Martouf felt his face burn hot. He was suddenly glad that the lights were turned down low or Samantha might have noticed his embarrassment.
"Among other things…"
"Be quite!" Martouf snapped at his symbiote. "You are not much help."
"You look lovely, Samantha," he said out loud, mentally trying to ignore Lantash's laughter at his unexpected predicament.
"Thank you, Martouf. You look nice as well."
"Yeah," drawled Jack from the next table, "I guess Marty cleans up well."
"As do you, Colonel O'Neill," Martouf shot back as nonchalantly as possible.
The Colonel eyed his suspiciously for a moment before returning to his plate of food. Martouf heard him mutter something indistinguishable to Daniel Jackson before shoveling a large piece of cake into his mouth.
Jack had never been Martouf's favor Tau'ri, far from it, and he knew that Jack felt the same way about him. The way Jack looked at Samantha irritated Martouf, and the way he turned everything into a joke rubbed him the wrong way, too. More than anything, Martouf hated being called Marty. It was not the nickname itself that bothered him but the way in which Jack used it. It was condescending and sarcastic and it rankled.
Almost as if he knew it would bother Martouf, Jack climbed to his feet and reached for Samantha's hand.
"Do you wanna dance, Carter?"
Samantha blushed and Martouf could not help but noted that it was very becoming of her. He heave a sigh as he stared forlornly after Sam and Jack, but he pulled a slight smile onto his face and settled into Samantha's vacant chair, relieved to be able to sit down and recover his self-composure.
Martouf could not honestly say when their feelings of fond affection for Samantha had turned to something deeper. He could not point to the moment when they stopped thinking of Samantha as all they had left of Jolinar, and started thinking of her as a separate individual. It must have happened slowly, almost imperceptibly, until they only saw Samantha when they looked at her, instead of Samantha and Jolinar. The moment they had realized they were in love with Samantha, they knew they would never rest until she was theirs which is why it was so difficult to watch Jack and Samantha, his Samantha, twirl around the dance floor not far from them and he felt a surge of jealousy that he could barely control.
His normal calm composure crumbled to the brink of ruin and he hated Jack in that moment, more than he had ever hated anyone else before in his life. Jack's hands were on Samantha's hips, his Samantha's hips, and he was smiling at her, that smug smile that grated on Martouf's nerves. It took every ounce of his self-control, and Lantash's, too, to keep from making a fool of himself and tossing Jack across the room in a jealous rage. He kept reminding himself that he was not that sort of man.
He looked away, incapable of controlling his anger and watching them dance at the same time. It was not his nature to be so jealous or have so many violent thoughts about harming another human being, but it was his Samantha that Jack was pawing at, and Martouf did not like it one iota. Not one.
The longing and desire he felt rose to the surface in dizzying waves and it warred with his anger and jealousy until he was sure he would explode. He licked his lips nervously and forced everything back down deep into a box somewhere in the vicinity of his kidneys: far enough away from his heart to not cause any damage. Lantash, easily the more violate personality of the two, was not as easily mollified, but he agreed that they would get their moment with Samantha before the night was through. The thorn in his heart twisted painfully but he ignored it.
"We have no real claim over her and she is free to dance with whomever she wishes." Martouf reminded him as gently as possible.
"Perhaps," Lantash conceded, "but that does not mean I wish to bear witness to it, especially when that person is Jack O'Neill."
"I feel the same way, but we cannot let it ruin our night. Our time will come."
"Indeed."
They had just reigned in their emotions and gotten comfortable in the hard metal chair when Anise spoke up with a mischievous grin. "Well, I do not know about all of you, but I would like to dance."
Horrified at the prospect of dancing with Anise, Martouf politely declined. "I think I am going to go find something to drink." He made a hasty yet dignified beeline for the refreshments table. Aldwin fell into step beside him, terror evident in his eyes. Anise was like a vice, once she grabbed ahold of something, she never let it go. They would be stuck dancing with her all night long, and Martouf had other plans for the night. Plans that involved Samantha and maybe a quiet corner in some out of the way place where they would not be disturbed.
As far as Martouf was concerned, Anise and Colonel O'Neill deserved one another, and if he had his way Anise would be attached to Jack before the night was through, and he wouldn't have to worry about either one of them.
Instead of stopping at the refreshment's table, Martouf circled around the room, his eyes searching for Samantha as the song came to an end. He spotted her near the stage and began to push his way through the crowd toward her, but Daniel Jackson beat him to her. The next song started and he and Samantha melted into the mass of bodies and out of sight.
Someone tapped him on the shoulder and he turned to find himself face to face with a small woman in a tight red dress and sky high heels. Before he could react, she put her arms around his neck and nestled up against him.
"You must be one of the Tok'ra," she said, swaying her hips from side to side in time with the music.
Martouf cleared his throat as his body betrayed him despite his best efforts to remain distant from this strange woman. "I'm Martouf."
"Well, hello, Martouf. I'm Jessica."
Sensing no polite way out of the situation, Martouf placed his hands lightly on her hips and let the music do the talking.
"You're the one Major Carter is always talking about, aren't you?"
"Am I?" He asked, surprised and pleased that Samantha talked about him.
"Yes," purred Jessica, "you're definitely him. You've got those holyfuck blue eyes and that come hither stare that makes women melt."
"Samantha said those things about me?"
Jessica gave him a bright smile. "No, darling, I did."
"Oh," gasped Martouf as Jessica moved a little too close, removing any and all doubt about her intentions. Her hips were bony but she certainly knew how to use them to her advantage.
Martouf blinked at her in stunned silence. He had not been expecting such a forward gesture from a total stranger and it unnerved him a little. He had thought Tau'ri women were somewhat more reserved, but perhaps he had been too hasty in his judgment. His dealings with them had been somewhat limited and mainly revolved around Samantha.
"This one is definitely not a lady," said Lantash. "Perhaps we should disengage ourselves from this woman before she gets the wrong idea."
"I think she already has the wrong idea," replied Martouf. "A very, very wrong idea."
Martouf tried to step back but Jessica was clinging to him, determined to finish the dance. She gave him a sweet smile and tightened her grip around his neck. With a resigned sigh, Martouf stopped struggling and allowed the girl to hang off his neck for the duration of the song, but as soon as it ended he wrenched himself free and disappeared into the crowd.
He found Aldwin and Malek nursing large cups of punch near the doorway. They were both scanning the crowd anxiously as if expecting a large group of Jaffa to come charging through the revelers at any moment.
"What is the matter with you two," Martouf asked softly, grabbing at the tray of a passing waiter and snagging a glass of wine.
"Anise is looking for us," announced Aldwin with a grimace. "She is determined to dance with every male in the room at least once tonight and with us every chance she gets."
"You had better watch your back closely," added Malek, "she is likely to grab you when you least expect it."
"Well, I…" Martouf began but he trailed off as he spotted Anise stalking toward them like a lioness toward its prey. "I have to go." He blurted rather suddenly, turning on his heel, nearly sloshing his drink all over his suit, and leaving Aldwin and Malek to their fate. He slid back into the relative safety of crowd on the dance floor.
He spied Samantha dancing happily with her father and he tried to catch her eye, but they were talking and laughing as they swayed around and around. It warmed Martouf's heart to see his Samantha so happy and cheerful. He watched them slip in and out of view, and he was so absorbed in watching the way the light caught Samantha's hair that he almost allowed himself to be captured by Anise. Lantash's warning nearly came too late, but Martouf spotted her out of the corner of his eye and was able to slide between a dancing Lieutenant Elliot and his date and fade into the crowd. They seemed to be doing a lot of evading and sneaking around tonight.
"That was a close call," said Lantash, "we must be more vigilant in the future."
Several songs later, and several more close calls with Jessica, Martouf immerged from the dance floor to find that Aldwin and Malek had long since passed the anxious stage, and had moved on to the alcohol stage. Both of them were holding wine glasses and there were several empty glasses lying on the table behind them. Luckily, the Tok'ra's tolerance for alcohol was very high and it would take more than a few glasses of wine to have any sort of effect on them.
Both men were transfixed by a single point of origin near the edge of the crowd, and, following their gaze, Martouf spotted Anise dragging Delek through the motions of a complicated dance.
"Are you enjoying yourselves," he asked innocently, trying not to allow Lantash's hysterical laughter to break through his resolve not to laugh at his friends.
"We should have left Anise on the base," lamented Malek between sips of wine as he watched Anise with wide, worried eyes. "I fear that she may soon tire of Delek's company again and come searching for a new dancing partner."
Aldwin scowled into his wineglass. "I fear I do not wish to be here when she does. Perhaps we should remove ourselves from her sightline just in case."
"Yes, I do believe that would be best."
Aldwin and Malek quickly gathered their suit jackets and vanished into the labyrinth of dancing bodies and huddle masses. Eager to follow in their footsteps and avoid Anise, Martouf renewed his search for Samantha. He spotted her dancing with the man called Major Davis as he skirted the edge of the dance floor, bumping into Janet Frasier near the tables where Jacob and most of SG-1 were seated and enjoying large slices of cake.
"Oh, hi, Martouf."
Martouf inclined his head in greeting. "Dr. Frasier."
Janet was wearing a scintillating red dress and Martouf thought it was a welcome departure from the usual green fatigues that she usually wore.
"You look lovely tonight," he announced, taking her hand and offering her a dance.
She gave him a bright smile, obviously pleased by his comment and his offer. "Thank you."
He led her onto the dance floor as a slow song started to play. Unlike his previous dancing partners that night, Martouf was surprised to find how comfortable he was with Janet. She was a skilled dancer and she had no ulterior motives for letting him lead her around the floor.
"I see the suit fits," she said after several moments of comfortable silence.
"Mostly," said Martouf, "though it is a bit tight."
Janet chuckled merrily. "They usually are. Jacob told me all of your sizes and I had hoped I got them right. I believe I did. This suit looks like it was made for you."
Despite his misgivings about the veracity of her statement, Martouf was delighted that she thought him adequate, and as the song ended and another one began, a sly smile spread over Janet's countenance.
"There is Sam," she said softly, "why don't you ask her to dance."
Martouf turned to find Samantha in the crowd behind them and was disappointed to see Colonel O'Neill reaching for her hand.
"You could always cut in," said Janet, "I'm sure Sam wouldn't mind one bit."
Janet shoved him lightly and Martouf stared at her in surprise. "Just say 'excuse me' and push your way between them. "
Martouf was delighted that Janet Frasier was on his side. "I shall of course blame you if anything goes wrong," he told her.
She smiled and gave him another gentle push in the right direction. He moved expertly through the couples dancing around him until he was standing beside Samantha and Jack. Jack scowled at Martouf when he pressed his way between him and Samantha.
"Excuse me," said Martouf, his tone a bit too gleeful to be truly apologetic.
Colonel O'Neill looked like he had just swallowed something bitter and he started to protest, but Martouf didn't give him the chance. He grasped Samantha's hand and tugged her to him. They turned away from Jack, leaving him dumbfounded and staring after them. Martouf tried to savor the moment of victory without being too smug and he thought he pulled it off well.
Samantha's hand, his Samantha's hand, was warm and it fit perfectly into his; like slipping on a glove. He placed her hands on his shoulder and his hands on her hips as the music swirled around them. The song was slow, almost mournful, and Martouf never wanted it to end. Judging by the look on Samantha's face, she felt the same way. It was nice to see that she was finally pushing aside her misgivings about their relationship and letting fate take its course.
"I've been trying to find you all night," Martouf whispered into her ear.
"Well, you've got me now," she said innocently, "what are you going to do with me."
"We've got some ideas," responded Martouf, his voice low and husky.
There it was again, the faint red glow in her cheeks.
"You know, Martouf, I'm glad you and Lantash were able to make it. I know the council was apprehensive about allowing you to come, but I'm glad they changed their minds."
Martouf nodded slowly, "you can thank your father for that. He convinced the council that it would be an opportunity to learn more about Earth culture, and, in the long run, further benefit Tau'ri/Tok'ra relations." He paused to gather his thoughts. "The only thing that I was interested in was you."
Samantha laughed, "Is that so?"
"You know how we feel about you Samantha. Our heart is yours."
He had never actually said it before, but now that it was out in the open he wondered how she would respond.
Samantha snuggled closer to his body, visibly content in his embrace, and he caught a hint of her exotic perfume. It was sweet but subtle, and it almost smelled like Lilac.
"Lavender," corrected Lantash.
"No, more like perfection," replied Martouf.
Lantash sighed and Martouf could feel his contentment through their bond.
"This is how it should be," Lantash said quietly. "Just the three of us."
"Yes," murmured Martouf when Samantha laid her head on his shoulder and he encircled her waist with his arms as she melted into him.
"What did you say?" Asked Samantha.
Martouf shook his head. "We were just thinking about how wonderful this night is. There is nowhere we would rather be than here with you in our arms. Thank you for inviting us, Samantha."
Samantha snickered into his shoulder, "You weren't so happy earlier when you were dancing with Lieutenant Jenkins."
"Lieutenant Jenkins? Do you mean Jessica?" He asked with a slight shudder, laying his cheek against her hair and breathing in her scent.
"Yes," said Samantha, "I think she likes you."
"Unfortunately, I believe you are correct in your assessment. The woman does seem rather fond of me though I do not know why."
"It's your holyfuck blue eyes," Lantash teasingly reminded him.
Martouf groaned aloud and Samantha tipped her head up to caught his gaze, "Don't worry, Martouf, I won't let Jessica have you. You are mine now."
He liked the sound of that.
"Always." She said.
She placed her head on his shoulder again and he rested his cheek against her hair. The rest of the world faded into the background and it seemed for a moment that there were alone in the room, slow dancing to their own song, slow dancing into a new future together. They were so caught up in one another that the room could have burned to ashes around them and they never would have noticed.
"Always." He agreed softly.