Carpe Diem
by
Major Clanger"We had better be a little circumspect. If anyone here knew we were going out for dinner it might cause... well, you know. Problems."
"It feels a little disloyal though." Sam sighed, although she knew it was the only sensible option.
"I know. But you never know how anyone is going to react, do you? I mean... regs are regs. Sometimes they all turn a blind eye, sometimes they're organising the court martial before you can even say 'fraternisation'!"
"Okay, I can do furtive. I'll meet you there. Seven-thirty?"
"Sure, seven-thirty is good. See you there."
The receiver clicked as Sam laid it in the cradle. She leaned back in her chair, linking her hands behind her head, and gave her empty lab a broad grin. It had been a long time since she'd been invited out for dinner, as a woman rather than as a team-mate. She had to admit to herself that it felt good. Checking the time, she noticed it was 4:30. It was a twenty minute cab ride from her house to the restaurant, twenty minutes from the base to her house and thirty minutes before she could call it a day. That left one hour and fifty minutes to get ready.
Sam picked up her mug and took a sip, wincing at the bitter taste of the cold, black coffee, and tried to focus on the problem in front of her. How is it, she thought, that string theory is no problem, but completing a simple Materials Requisition Form is beyond me? She ran her pencil along the list of stores she required for next month's mission and checked it against her mental list. The list was not the problem. The problem was making it precisely clear what she required, without giving away any major secrets.
Major secrets. The two words made her grin. There was one Major Secret that she was in no danger of giving away to anyone. A knock at the door startled her and she looked up, mid grin.
"Colonel? Is there something I can do for you?" Sam looked surrepticiously at her watch and cursed inwardly. Four fifty-five.
"Going somewhere, Major?" O'Neill tapped his wristwatch and winked theatrically. He sauntered around the lab, picking things up, putting them down – in the wrong place – and generally annoying the heck out of Sam.
Jonas hovered in the doorway, obviously unsure of his welcome. Sam gave him an encouraging smile, and he entered, standing close to the doorway, out of the way of Jack's erratic circuit of the room. Teal'c followed Jonas, and Major Davis followed him.
"Is there something I should know about?" Sam began to tidy her desk pointedly.
"No, Major Carter. We were passing and wanted to know if you'd like to come to the commissary."
"Ah, no. No thanks. I have... I mean, I have something to finish up here then I'm going home. For a bath. A nice long soak in the bath." She made a face at the Colonel's raised eyebrow. "Alone."
"I would have thought you'd have had enough of water, Carter."
"If you recall, Sir, that wasn't exactly a nice relaxing bath."
"Yeah, the lack of bubbles kind of gave it away." Jack put down the hammer he had been fiddling with. "Well, if you want to turn down the four most eligible bachelors in the SGC, that's your loss." He stood in the doorway and gave his parting shot before disappearing along the hallway. "Do you need any help scrubbing your back?"
Jonas shrugged apologetically. "He said he heard you make a date on the phone, and wanted to rib you about it. Sorry." He left, followed by Teal'c who made no comment but merely gave his customary polite half-bow before leaving the room.
Major Davis laughed. "I don't know how you put up with them."
"You know what? I don't either." Sam clicked around on her computer and waited for the blank screen before switching off the monitor. "And until oh-eight-hundred hours on Monday, I don't care!"
They left the room together and walked to the elevator. Davis got out at the commisary level, and Sam continued to the top, unmolested by stray team-members. Within half an hour she was soaking in a bubble bath trying to decide what to wear.
Sam allowed herself the luxury of a forty-five minute bath, after which she dried her body and her hair in quick time. After a critical glance in the mirror, she brushed her teeth and applied some mascara and lipstick. The next stage of her preparations were interrupted while she collected a glass of white wine from the kitchen, then she sat on her bed and applied a fresh layer of pink nail-varnish to her toenails.
Catching sight of herself in the full-length mirrored closet door, Sam laughed at herself. She remembered back to her teenage years when she had gone on her first dates. At the beginning she had made no extra effort to look pretty, assuming that if a boy had asked her out, it was for her personality and not for her looks. After a few times, with no repeat dates, she had suddenly gone in completely the opposite direction. It had infuriated her brother and father immensely that she spent a good two hours in the bathroom before each date. There had been a lot of dates in those days.
After a while Sam had thrown herself into her studies once more and, to the relief of her brother who had by then discovered girls, the dates had petered out.
Sam realised, with a stab of disbelief, that she had butterflies in her stomach. There was no escaping it: the fact was that she had wanted this date for a long time. Now it was finally upon her she was suffering from teenage-style nervous excitement, which wasn't a bad thing, but nevertheless unexpected.
Her closet revealed that she needed to go shopping for clothes urgently. It was a pity that she hadn't known about this date before that whole 'Anubis destroying the planet' thing, she thought. But then it occurred to her that it was probably the fact that she had so nearly not made it out of the ship alive that had prompted him to ask her out in the first place.
That was a depressing thought and she banished it from her mind. The fact was that she hadn't died, and she was now going out for the evening with a man she had liked for a long time. Several years if she thought about it for any length of time. Sam selected a mid-calf-length black skirt. It was cut on the bias and swirled around her legs when she walked. A matching spaghetti-strapped top quickly joined it. The outfit was topped off with a knitted silk cardigan to ward of the cool evening air. Finally she pushed her feet into high-heeled, black strappy sandles, and stood a while examining the effect in the mirror.
Not really completely satisfied, but with nothing else suitable to put on, Sam gave a quick twirl to ensure that her rear view was alright. Not bad, she thought. I'm sure he'll faint when he realises I have legs like normal women!
The doorbell rang. She had taken the precaution of ordering a cab from her office; it was a few minutes early. Sam grabbed her bag, quickly checked that all her windows were closed and locked her front door behind her. The cab driver smiled and confirmed the restaurant name, making sure of the address with her to be sure.
When they arrived Sam checked her watch – seven-thirty-two – and paid the cab off. She stood at the door to the restaurant and took a deep breath. This did nothing to calm the butterflies in her stomach, but she figured it was worth a try. Sam ran a hand through her hair, grasped the doorhandle firmly and entered.
"Good evening," the waiter had a delicious French accent. "A table for one?"
"No, my name is Carter, Samantha Carter. I am meeting someone."
The waiter checked his list. "Ah yes. He is here, please come with me."
She was led to a table in the furthest corner of the room, which was sparsely, but expensively, decorated with modern beechwood furniture and muted earth colours. The only light came from discreet uplighters and the candles which burned on every table. The waiter held her chair for her as she sat down facing the door, and then withdrew. Sam smiled as she noticed the appreciative look in her date's eye.
"Hello, Paul. This place is gorgeous, I hope the food is as good as the decor."
~the end~