FIFTY WAYS TO LEAVE YOUR LOVER,
Okay, maybe not fifty. And maybe not really leaving either
Spacegypsy1
#6. There was a ring around the full moon, actually more like glowing white hot spikes reminiscent of some child's depiction of the Earth's sun. A creature howled off in the distance, and the fire cracked and popped. The brightness of the large moon hid the stars and lit the campsite like a hundred lanterns.
He hadn't been scheduled to be here, but then when that tree limb slammed through the cabin roof, and he had five days left in which to take his remaining six days of vacation…well, he'd invited himself along.
And here he was, in a worn out sleeping bag, by the inferno fire, under the stadium-light moon, on wet ground, all alone just because he'd tried to help out with the sleeping arrangements.
The archeologist had sided with the scientist…go figure!
Something about the guys' tent being already overcrowded.
The Jaffa was indifferent, no surprises there. When the hell did he start sleeping anyway?
The hotshot pilot had no comment, as usual.
Of course he wasn't the one who set a general's tent on fire.
That was the nut case, as expected; who thought him sleeping in with the girls was a "marvelous" idea.
He let the scientist know if he got eaten alive by whatever was out there baying at the moon, she'd herself to thank. She'd laughed and dragged her protectress off to their tent.
Somewhere in the middle of the night it started getting spooky - there were beady eyes glowing at him from the tree line...and cold, shiveringly, miserably wet and cold.
He was up and moving in a flash and hauled himself right into her tent, snuggled up between the two women, and with a grin, drifted off to sleep. That didn't last long, 'cause somehow he was in her sleeping bag, she was doing the whispered grumbler thing and Mitchell's backup singer was missing.
She had her 'I'm totally put out with you' face on, which by the way, was one of her sexiest looks. 'I'm the general' he told her to which she responded 'then act like one' – totally unfair.
When thunder rumbled threateningly in the distance, she crawled, to his utter delight, to the opening. With her head poked out, he received a pleasant moon lit view of her rounded rump. Nice.
She called out and he heard the loud, slightly accented reply which went something like…'totally loving this, Samantha, I have them all captured to my utter delight, toodles'.
He couldn't say he didn't expect the sudden and happy grin she turned to him. "Jack."
"Sam."