I held the shoe in my hand, listening to Samantha Carter giggling over the telephone I
held in my other hand.
Samantha Carter. My – what? Significant other? Girlfriend? Main squeeze? Lover?
All of the above, I finally decided.
A part of me wanted to sigh and settle back to listen, content to dwell on the sound of
her laughter. But that small part of me was shouted down by the beer-swilling, gun-
toting, hockey-watching macho-man that was the rest of me. So I cleared my throat,
getting her attention once again.
"Sam?" I called her back to the conversation. "Do you know why your shoe is in the
fridge?"
"I'm pretty sure that's where it got thrown when you took it off my foot, Jack." She
replied, snorting softly. I threw her shoe? Why don't I remember doing that? Oh
yeah, the dress. Red Silk + Samantha Carter = lack of higher-brain function for me. I
shrugged. I could deal with that equation.
"Why did it get thrown in the fridge?" I put the shoe down on the counter and leant
back on the stool, staring out the kitchen window into her backyard.
"Because I was getting you a beer when you attacked me, Jack." Sam reminded me.
Oh, right. Now I remembered. Sam was a woman who didn't drink beer all that
often, but kept some in her fridge for visitors (read, the rest of SG-1 and now myself).
So the beer was placed at the bottom of the fridge, out of the way. I'd followed her
into the kitchen, watching those hips writhe inside that damn dress, fascinated. And
then she'd bent down to get the beer. Bent right down.
A guy can only take so much before he'll break.
Next thing I remember, she was close to naked (can you count a near see-through
garter belt and hose as dressed?) and I was doing a good impression of Buck (aka
buck naked). And it was the first date all over again.
Only a whole lot better.
"Oh, yeah. I remember now." I replied to her comment. She sniggered back at me,
and I knew her mind was replaying the same thing mine was – last night (and early
this morning, and later this morning) all over again.
"See you at 1900?" She prompted me, sounding ready to get back to work.
"Sure. Do you want me to pick you up?" I stood up off the stool, grabbed the shoe
and began walking back to the bedroom. As I did, I heard her chuckle, and the laugh
had an evil edge to it.
"No. I'll meet you there. That way we have to at least sit down and eat before you
attack me again. Hopefully." She sniggered again, and I laughed back at her.
"Okay, then. See ya, Carter. Crap. Sam." It happened now and then. Her surname
just popped out, without me even realising until it was too late.
"It's okay, Jack. I don't mind you calling me Carter still." She reassured me. "Bye,
Jack. See you tonight." She hung up gently, and the phone went dead in my ear. I
dropped the shoe near her cupboard, picked up my wallet and keys and locked her
door before leaving her house.
-o0o-
On the risk of sounding like a complete sap:
First date? Un-freaking-believable.
Second date? Fantasy's are made from that stuff. No, fantasy doesn't even come
close.
Third date? Heaven. Paradise. Nirvana. Bliss. Ecstasy. Cloud nine. Rapture.
Our last words before falling asleep last night? "I love you." At the same time, in
the same breath. I gave her the three words she wanted, and took them back. How
cool was that? How right was that?
Damn – I am a complete sap. I brushed her hair back with one and and settled down
to sleep once more with a shrug. Sap, S.N.A.G, romantic – hell, who cared. I had
Sam Carter in my arms, in my bed. And I knew where her mole was.
NOTHING could be better than this.
-fin-
held in my other hand.
Samantha Carter. My – what? Significant other? Girlfriend? Main squeeze? Lover?
All of the above, I finally decided.
A part of me wanted to sigh and settle back to listen, content to dwell on the sound of
her laughter. But that small part of me was shouted down by the beer-swilling, gun-
toting, hockey-watching macho-man that was the rest of me. So I cleared my throat,
getting her attention once again.
"Sam?" I called her back to the conversation. "Do you know why your shoe is in the
fridge?"
"I'm pretty sure that's where it got thrown when you took it off my foot, Jack." She
replied, snorting softly. I threw her shoe? Why don't I remember doing that? Oh
yeah, the dress. Red Silk + Samantha Carter = lack of higher-brain function for me. I
shrugged. I could deal with that equation.
"Why did it get thrown in the fridge?" I put the shoe down on the counter and leant
back on the stool, staring out the kitchen window into her backyard.
"Because I was getting you a beer when you attacked me, Jack." Sam reminded me.
Oh, right. Now I remembered. Sam was a woman who didn't drink beer all that
often, but kept some in her fridge for visitors (read, the rest of SG-1 and now myself).
So the beer was placed at the bottom of the fridge, out of the way. I'd followed her
into the kitchen, watching those hips writhe inside that damn dress, fascinated. And
then she'd bent down to get the beer. Bent right down.
A guy can only take so much before he'll break.
Next thing I remember, she was close to naked (can you count a near see-through
garter belt and hose as dressed?) and I was doing a good impression of Buck (aka
buck naked). And it was the first date all over again.
Only a whole lot better.
"Oh, yeah. I remember now." I replied to her comment. She sniggered back at me,
and I knew her mind was replaying the same thing mine was – last night (and early
this morning, and later this morning) all over again.
"See you at 1900?" She prompted me, sounding ready to get back to work.
"Sure. Do you want me to pick you up?" I stood up off the stool, grabbed the shoe
and began walking back to the bedroom. As I did, I heard her chuckle, and the laugh
had an evil edge to it.
"No. I'll meet you there. That way we have to at least sit down and eat before you
attack me again. Hopefully." She sniggered again, and I laughed back at her.
"Okay, then. See ya, Carter. Crap. Sam." It happened now and then. Her surname
just popped out, without me even realising until it was too late.
"It's okay, Jack. I don't mind you calling me Carter still." She reassured me. "Bye,
Jack. See you tonight." She hung up gently, and the phone went dead in my ear. I
dropped the shoe near her cupboard, picked up my wallet and keys and locked her
door before leaving her house.
-o0o-
On the risk of sounding like a complete sap:
First date? Un-freaking-believable.
Second date? Fantasy's are made from that stuff. No, fantasy doesn't even come
close.
Third date? Heaven. Paradise. Nirvana. Bliss. Ecstasy. Cloud nine. Rapture.
Our last words before falling asleep last night? "I love you." At the same time, in
the same breath. I gave her the three words she wanted, and took them back. How
cool was that? How right was that?
Damn – I am a complete sap. I brushed her hair back with one and and settled down
to sleep once more with a shrug. Sap, S.N.A.G, romantic – hell, who cared. I had
Sam Carter in my arms, in my bed. And I knew where her mole was.
NOTHING could be better than this.
-fin-