A/N: I promise, this is going somewhere. I have finished all of my WIPs before this one.
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Showering was hard. She lay on the sofa at half past eight the next morning, contemplating the best way to do it. There wasn't enough room in the bathroom to take her clothes in and get changed. She was going to have to bend over slightly the whole time and she couldn't dry herself in a steamy room anyway. But there was no way in hell she was going to wander around outside in a towel.
'' Colonel?'' She spoke before she'd confirmed that he was awake, assuming that he, like her, hadn't slept very well either.
'' Yeah?''
'' I want to have a shower.''
He moved slowly in the bed, then she could see his head. He was looking at her. '' Are you asking my permission?''
'' No.'' Well... ''Yes.''
'' I'll close my eyes.''
That hadn't exactly been what she'd wanted. She'd hoped he'd offer to go out or something. Get a newspaper. Do *anything* that got him out of the apartment so she could get changed without feeling uncomfortable.
Apparently not.
Deciding to get it over and done with, Sam unfolded herself from the sofa, acknowledging the crick in her spine as she stood up. Her bag lay by the wall and she bent down and pulled her shampoo and conditioner from one of the side pockets. To aid her when she got out of the shower, she laid out her clothes for the day, mindful that she would be applying for a dubious job, and then picked up a towel that had come with the place. Nice of Maybourne to provide her with linen and towels. Pity he hadn't taken into account that she was rather tall and the towel was not.
She made deft work with her hair, brushed her teeth and dried herself as best she could considering the fan didn't work terribly well. When she opened the door, the cold hit her at once, and she watched steam rise to the ceiling. She peeked around and saw that he was lying on his front, his head turned away from her. Relieved, she walked over to the sofa and started drying herself, her back to him. She wrapped the towel around her waist and hurriedly clipped on her bra, then put her on her wrap-around-shirt. She checked over her shoulder to once again confirm that he still wasn't looking - she didn't know *why* she was suddenly so concerned about this - and pulled the towel off in order to put on her panties and grey trousers.
Once fully dressed, and remarkably more secure for it, Sam worked the towel over her hair, rubbing and rubbing as she walked over to the window to look out at the city. Well, what she could see of it. A parking lot, some more apartment buildings and if she pressed her nose against the window, a grocery store down on the corner.
Colonel O'Neill rolled over suddenly and she looked over at him, and threw the towel over onto the sofa. ''Good sleep?'' she asked, falsely.
'' No,'' he answered, much to her surprise. '' You?''
Since they were being honest.... '' Not particularly.''
He didn't say anything to that, just sat upright and rubbed a hand over his hair. '' You're going to go to the restaurant.''
'' The impression I got from Maybourne was that calling it a 'restaurant' would be a bit of a stretch.''
'' I've heard of it.''
She raised her eyebrows. '' Really, Colonel?'' she said dryly.
'' A friend of mine had a bachelor party there.''
'' Ah.''
'' Don't use that tone of voice with me, Carter,'' he said scathingly, viciously in fact. '' You have no right to dictate what I do with my personal life.''
She blanched and turned to look out of the window. '' Of course not, Colonel. I'm sorry,'' she said softly, obediently.
'' Shit.'' He fell back down onto the bed and covered his eyes with his hands.
Sam pressed her head against the glass and closed her eyes.
'' What do you want me to do, Carter?'' he appealed, lifting his hands into the air imploringly.
'' I don't know.''
'' Why did you call me?''
'' Because I... I wanted to.''
'' What do you expect to happen here, Carter? You went AWOL, and nothing you've told me - which isn't a lot - has indicated that you didn't deliberately do so.''
'' I did go AWOL. I didn't exactly mean to. I meant to get away for the week of our downtime, but once I was away, I just couldn't seem to come back,'' she whispered against the glass.
'' If you wanted to leave, why didn't you resign? Why didn't you just call, for God's sake? Send a fax, a memo...''
'' You never get your memos. Do you know why that is?''
'' What? Are you changing the subject?''
'' It's because they're yellow. They look just like your notes. You just put them in the bin when you see them.'' She smiled faintly, recalling the numerous times she'd actually seen him do it. '' The SGC memos are different to the ones in the real world.''
'' That's really fascinating, Carter...''
'' You don't have to call me that. You can call me Sam.''
'' I don't want to.''
She sighed, watched as the condensation patch grew, and then shrunk on the window. '' Are you deliberately being nasty? Is this what it's going to be like?''
'' Just be glad I haven't beaten you to a pulp,'' he muttered.
'' If it would stop this, I'd rather you did.''
'' Don't temp me.''
Sam turned her head to the side and looked at him. '' I thought I did that already. Remember that New Year's?''
*
'' He's drunk.''
'' How can you tell?''
Sam shrugged, put her beer down. '' I've seen it before.''
Janet frowned, her brow furrowing. '' When have you?''
'' Usually after yet another SG-1 narrow escape.''
'' Don't jinx it, Sam.'' Janet sipped her wine thoughtfully, watching Colonel O'Neill from where they were standing in the corner of the room. '' He's so gorgeous. Not my type, but still gorgeous.''
Sam grinned. '' Yeah.''
'' You know, you're the envy of most of the women on base.''
'' What? All twelve of them?'' she quipped. It was standard routine with the women - to lighten the fact that they were a distinct minority. She lifted her beer to her lips and gulped. '' I ought to go and sit with him.''
'' You don't have to baby-sit him.''
'' I'm not baby-sitting him. I care about him.''
Janet's eyebrows shot up. '' Sam!''
'' Not like that.'' Like that. So, totally, totally, like that. '' Look, Daniel's seen him too.'' She nodded to the scientist, who was trying to edge out of the too-intense conversation with Dr Hawley.
'' Fine. Go. Abandon me. I don't care.'' Sighing like a martyr, Janet went on to her next victim, while Sam wound her way through the crowd in O'Malley's main bar area, smiling and nodding at people she knew, somewhat relieved when the crowd thinned out around the booths.
'' Hey, Colonel,'' she said, sliding in to the other side of the booth.
He regarded her suspiciously, even more suspiciously when Daniel slid in next to her. '' Did you time that?'' he asked crossly.
They looked at each other, grinned the smile of good friends, and then went back to their drinks.
'' So,'' Sam said, turning to Daniel, knowing full well the Colonel wasn't in a talkative mood, '' how's Dr Hawley?''
Daniel winced. '' She's very.... intense.''
'' She luurrrves you,'' Sam announced, giggling.
Predictably, Daniel flushed. '' I'm married.''
She giggled. '' So's Dr Hawley.''
'' No way.'' Daniel blinked several times. '' You're kidding, right?''
Sam shook her head. '' Uh uh. Married.'' She waggled her wedding finger. '' Three kids.''
'' Then why... why does she... um, that is to say...''
'' Why does she flirt like it's her last day on Earth?'' Sam shrugged. '' Got me there. As far as I know, she never goes through with it.''
Daniel looked like he'd been hit by a truck. '' Wow.'' He stared down at his beer, shook his head slightly and lifted it to his mouth. Brought it back down and managed another, '' Wow.''
'' Jeez, Carter,'' the Colonel murmured, '' never thought you'd be the type for idle gossip.''
Something in his tone suggested he was being unpleasant, but Sam decided it was New Year's and she was going to be resilient. Okay, so she was going to be unpleasant right back. '' What was that Colonel? Were you, God forbid, participating in our conversation?''
'' Hey, you came over here,'' he pointed out.
She tilted her head to the side. '' Yes, we did. And we're going to stay here because I'm going to kiss you both at midnight.''
'' Really?'' Daniel perked up, deliberately.
She cuffed him around the shoulder. '' Okay, okay, so I have another motive.''
'' Simmons is looking for you?''
'' Shut up. Can you see him? I don't want to give him any ideas.'' She was already stretching up in her seat, her eyes searching the crowd.
'' I think he's... er... making out with Lieutenant Farrah.''
'' The slut!''
'' Lieutenant Farrah?''
'' No, Simmons!" She snorted and sat back down. '' Well. There goes my chance of a love life. Again.''
'' You weren't seriously considering....''
'' No, but it was nice to feel wanted.''
Daniel laughed. '' Sam, that's ridiculous.''
She made a face and stole his beer. '' Man, my life sucks. You know when I last went out with a guy?''
'' No, Sam, I don't, and how much have you drunk?''
'' Enough to make me really talkative. You noticed?'' She grinned at him, and he grinned stupidly back. '' You'll want to record everything I tell you so you can wind me up until next New Year's.''
'' I'll do that.''
'' I've forgotten what I was going to say.''
'' Thank you God,'' Colonel O'Neill whispered loudly, raising his eyes to the ceiling.
'' Jack,'' Daniel chastised.
'' Can I go yet?''
'' No, because we're sharing a cab,'' he pointed out, pointedly, waving a finger at the Colonel.
Suddenly, the music stopped, someone got hold of a microphone and started to speak quickly into it.
'' What's that?'' Daniel asked.
'' It's nearly midnight.'' The Colonel sighed and put his beer down, wiped his hands over his face. '' I hate this.''
'' TEN!''
'' I wish Teal'c was here. It's a pity he had to miss it.''
'' NINE!''
'' He'd hate it,'' Colonel O'Neill said. '' He was mighty confused by last year's 'celebration'.''
'' EIGHT!''
'' Jonas hated New Year's,'' Sam said, suddenly, strangely reminded of him. '' And Christmas. And his birthday. Me. Oh, Jesus, now you've got me doing it.''
'' SEVEN!''
The Colonel saluted her with his beer. '' My aim in life. To make you miserable.''
'' SIX!''
'' Trust me, you've got it down,'' she told him snappishly - her mind flashing back to all the horrible things he'd done that year. Edora, secret missions, harsh words, betrayals. Making her fall in love with him. Bastard.
'' FIVE!''
'' I didn't mean it, Sam,'' he said, eyes catching hers and holding. He looked, suddenly, terribly sad. And she had a feeling he was talking about something else.
'' FOUR!''
'' It's all right.''
'' THREE!''
'' No, it's not.''
'' TWO!''
'' It's over, Colonel. I forgive you.''
'' ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR'S!''
Daniel planted one on her before she could realise what was happening. Then he pulled his lips away, leaned across the table and, laughing, planted one on the Colonel's forehead. Then he was off to find Janet, no doubt.
Sam was moving before she knew it, climbing over the edge of the table and sliding down next to him. He'd already turned to face her, shielding her from the rest of the room, his eyes running from her eyes to her mouth and back again. He leaned in towards her, pressing his mouth against hers, taking her breath away. The kiss grew quickly, from surprised and new to passionate and hot, tongues intermingling, hands going out to grasp onto whatever they could find. Panting, they tilted their heads in the opposite direction, his hands going up to grip her face as she grabbed handfuls of his hair and pulled him closer.
*
'' I remember.''
Which was ironic really, considering they'd both professed not to remember a thing that had happened after about eleven on New Year's Eve.
'' Are you going to come down with me?''
He nodded and slid out of bed, looking down at his feet. Sam dragged her eyes away from him and looked back out of the window, desperate to find something interesting to occupy her mind while he changed.
Five minutes later, he was ready and was running his fingers through his hair, desperately trying to bring it to order. Then he threw his hands up at the mirror and picked up his wallet and keys. She smiled faintly, and looked down at her boots.
'' Walking or driving?'' he asked.
'' Walk. It's not far from here.''
'' Maybourne picked the place well, then.''
'' I don't even want to think about it.''
For the first time, his smile was almost natural. '' Tell me about it.''
Full, suddenly, of hope, Sam pulled open the door and they headed for the stairs (elevator wasn't working - bode well for the future). They clattered down silent but for the sound their shoes made on the floor. Outside it was a little chillier than Sam had expected and she buttoned up her coat tightly. From her pocket she pulled out a pair of gloves and a matching woolly hat that she only wore when no one she knew could see her.
'' That's almost as awful as mine,'' was all he said, glancing at her as they walked side by side.
'' Please. Mine is way uglier than yours.''
'' You look about five.''
She wrinkled her nose, knowing it was going to go red in about five minutes, and shrugged. '' At least I'm warm.''
He didn't say anything to that, instead looked around intently at his surroundings, almost as if they were off-world. In fact, exactly as if they were off-world. Did he ever relax? she wondered, watching him out of the corner of her eye.
The restaurant was, of course, closed. And it appeared to be a door that led into a tall, boxy brick building with no windows. The Colonel wandered off down the side while she read the information on the glass display by the door. There was no menu, just opening times, the reservations phone line and a couple of contact numbers, including one for job applications. She pulled out her mobile and started dialling the first number.
'' Luxur.''
'' Hi, I want to apply for a job.''
'' Name?''
'' Samantha Clorel.''
There was a pause. '' Address?''
She reeled off her address details, tapping her fingers on the glass casing of the display.
'' Your application form should be with you tomorrow. Fill it out, drop it by the restaurant as soon as possible. There's a mail slot on the door down the side. We'll get back to you if we find you're a suitable candidate.''
'' Right, okay. Thanks.''
'' You're welcome.''
The Colonel came back, hands deep in the pockets of his leather jacket, expression entirely professional. '' There's another exit down there but that's it. Still no windows. Looks like they've all been bricked up, but since the roofs flat, it wouldn't surprise me if there are skylights on the top.''
She nodded at his assessment. '' They're sending me an application form. I'll fill it out and drop it by tomorrow.''
'' What do we do until then?''
'' I have no idea.'' The idea that she would now be forced to spend time with him was both
He looked at his watch. '' Breakfast, I guess. I'm starving.''
If things had been normal, she would have been pleased. He was looking strangely thin, especially about the face. She wanted to ask if he'd been ill or something - maybe that was the reason for their downtime - but she knew he wouldn't tell her.
'' Actually, um, I want to go for a run. Can we meet somewhere in an hour or so?'' she asked, checking her watch.
'' Still keeping up your routine?''
Sam nodded, shrugged a shoulder and looked down the street. '' Habit, I guess.''
'' Okay. I'll meet you at the apartment in an hour. I suppose you'll have to have a shower again.''
She cleared her throat - this morning, of course, she'd been too panicked to think ahead. '' I will. So... take a while.''
'' Sure.''
'' Sure.''
Then, after both pausing indecisively, they went their separate ways.