Title: Flick of a Switch
Author: Athena.
Email: atheniandream@aol.com
Content Warnings: Angst, the old biscuit, Slight Humour
Pairings: S/J, S/other
Spoilers: Chimera. Either set during or after.
Season: Seven
Rating: PG-13 I think.
Summary: Being locked in a closet is NOT their idea of fun...
Author's notes: Uh, well sg-1 on in the UK has
brought out a writing flare, yay!
Archive: Anywhere. I'm my own publicist.
Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING. I know this.
-------------------------------------------
Flick of a Switch
Being locked in a closet is NOT their idea of fun.
-------------------------------------
The cold chill had settled around her elbows, which she clung to
needlessly as they numbed against her roughed fingertips.
Looking up briefly in the small space, she sensed his eyes on her.
A slit of light from the opening, raised itself on his forehead,
projecting all too well, the frown that lay there, and the silence along with it.
Neither of them dared to break a word, and they'd both silently
agreed that that was the best option. After all, being locked in a
closet was not their idea of fun.
Not even if they wee naked and as horny as hell...but that wasn't a
defining point right now.
After all,
This wasn't their fault. They didn't do this, nor get them into
the mess in the first place.
It wasn't even the gods, the powers that be. It wasn't even fate.
It was Daniel, damn it.
Damn Daniel Jackson.
The phrase mulled over in Jack's head. After getting out of this
little blessed predicament, he should have it ceremoniously
tattooed on his.... testicular area.
Well, it wasn't as if he'd ever need him again, for sure.
He just guessed that they'd sit in a closet forever, and she'd
kick him black and blue, like in the movies.
Either that or, have...
"What are you thinking about?"
"Um. Nothing." As if he'd divulge that.
"Sex?" Her tone was almost mono, much to his surprise.
He'd always though of her as a 'no sharing' kind of Gal.
"Yea."
"Hmmm." Sitting back a bit so that her head could rest on
a shelving unit, she fell silent once more. "With me?"
"Pretty much." However, every now and then he found it well,
fun to share. "I'm not talking about it." Or not.
"Of course not. I wouldn't want to ruin your little fantasy."
Holding her hands up, she couldn't help but smirk a little.
She had to have known what he was thinking. He Was Jack, after all.
Like most men, he tend o muse over sex, and women, food, and
amidst all that-Hockey. But mind mainly just reeled sex.
"So how long has it been? For You?"
"Carter? Do you mind?"
His voice, she thought, however high and whiny right now,
was better at its...regular pitch. But at least, this way
it left room for her to wig him out.
"Just trying' to start an interesting conversation."
"Well, asking about that is not the way to do it. Besides,
you seem to have got your own-"
"Colonel," "I don't want to fight, okay. I'm fed up of fighting with you."
"I'm not saying-"
"And you don't have to Colonel. I know what you're thinking. We work together, remember?"
"Ya Think? Wow, never plastered you as having a penchant for
mind reading Carter, you must have-" Sensing the cracking ice
and 'Soldier Jack' rapour in his words, she continued an
interruption, hoping that the chill between them was the air
and not anything that she wasn't ready to discuss.
"Jack. Look. I didn't tell you, because I didn't, I didn't expect it to last."
"No?"
"Of course not. What? You think that I have some kind of
time device, which lets me the lengths of my romantic relationships?"
"Maybe..."
"If I HAD one of those, then I wouldn't be such a failure...." She trailed off.
At the same point striking a note of the amount of failed
relationships, misses, hits, collisions. Her track record wasn't
too great. She knew this, and over the years had become aware of
the effect that her death wish had on the male race.
"Oh Come Carter, you know you're a knockout."
"I'm flattered." "But I think I'm more of a knockout, concussion,
impending death kinda gal."
"It works. It's a...seasonal look."
"I found someone, not the one but..."
"Carter, I really don't' need to-"
"I like him, and-"
"Will you let me finish? Geese, I know that 'the old' tend to
dribble on, but give me break!"
It was the first time through the entire conversation that
she'd buttoned it. Thank god, otherwise he couldn't have coped.
And then he'd wind up having to kiss her just to keep her quiet,
which he liked a little too much.
"It's up to you what you do with your life, I'm not a part of it.
I just don't need to know."
"Look I need to say this. Just sit there, be quiet, and let me do the talking."
"When Daniel left, I realised I had to change. Myself.
The way that I act, on things...and how I deal with other things...
Look we both know that I could die at any time, so could you,
and that, puts us in a very odd and dangerous position for a start.
But I can't be can't be your 'Carter' anymore. I refuse to.
I can't hide everything until it burns up inside.
I'm not a shinny soldier anymore, I'm older, and I'm wiser and I
don't deal as well as I used to. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Pete.
I know the whole mess-o-crap and I should have told you. OR at least,
talked about it, because it's important to not keep from you.
I'd expect the same from you."
"You really don't know me at all, do you?"
"I know you better than you know yourself."
"Them's fightin' words Missy."
"I mean it. I'm sorry." She whispered, almost sorry for more than just 'Pete'.
Her fingers drew to the stubble edge of his chin.
He flinched almost slightly, twitching the broad end of his shoulders.
Even drawing a hand near hers for a second, either to stop or encourage her.
Either was an option.
She slid her roughed fingers down to his chin allowing the movement
of his face, and calmly pursed her lips against the bristly part of
his left cheek, allowing him to gasp silently, just a little,
just what was to be seen remained as an allowed gesture, but lingered like a brand.
"So, uh. Back to whose fault it is," He quickly turned o the nearest topic in his head.
"I'm guessin' a not so little, honkin' four-eyed snake weasel of a space monkey?"
"Yep. Definitely Daniel,"
------------------------------------
And there it fell off, all recollection of their conversation.
Even her unofficial vow of loyalty. And her gesture.
All of it shredded between them, told to be forgotten, disallowed, nor remembered,
Like the flick of a switch.
-----------------------
Feed please.
Thanks
Any cabbags to throw?
SEND TO:
2 I dont care anymore
Love Me Street
Canada--
JUS KIDDIN' ;)
Athena XXX
Author: Athena.
Email: atheniandream@aol.com
Content Warnings: Angst, the old biscuit, Slight Humour
Pairings: S/J, S/other
Spoilers: Chimera. Either set during or after.
Season: Seven
Rating: PG-13 I think.
Summary: Being locked in a closet is NOT their idea of fun...
Author's notes: Uh, well sg-1 on in the UK has
brought out a writing flare, yay!
Archive: Anywhere. I'm my own publicist.
Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING. I know this.
-------------------------------------------
Flick of a Switch
Being locked in a closet is NOT their idea of fun.
-------------------------------------
The cold chill had settled around her elbows, which she clung to
needlessly as they numbed against her roughed fingertips.
Looking up briefly in the small space, she sensed his eyes on her.
A slit of light from the opening, raised itself on his forehead,
projecting all too well, the frown that lay there, and the silence along with it.
Neither of them dared to break a word, and they'd both silently
agreed that that was the best option. After all, being locked in a
closet was not their idea of fun.
Not even if they wee naked and as horny as hell...but that wasn't a
defining point right now.
After all,
This wasn't their fault. They didn't do this, nor get them into
the mess in the first place.
It wasn't even the gods, the powers that be. It wasn't even fate.
It was Daniel, damn it.
Damn Daniel Jackson.
The phrase mulled over in Jack's head. After getting out of this
little blessed predicament, he should have it ceremoniously
tattooed on his.... testicular area.
Well, it wasn't as if he'd ever need him again, for sure.
He just guessed that they'd sit in a closet forever, and she'd
kick him black and blue, like in the movies.
Either that or, have...
"What are you thinking about?"
"Um. Nothing." As if he'd divulge that.
"Sex?" Her tone was almost mono, much to his surprise.
He'd always though of her as a 'no sharing' kind of Gal.
"Yea."
"Hmmm." Sitting back a bit so that her head could rest on
a shelving unit, she fell silent once more. "With me?"
"Pretty much." However, every now and then he found it well,
fun to share. "I'm not talking about it." Or not.
"Of course not. I wouldn't want to ruin your little fantasy."
Holding her hands up, she couldn't help but smirk a little.
She had to have known what he was thinking. He Was Jack, after all.
Like most men, he tend o muse over sex, and women, food, and
amidst all that-Hockey. But mind mainly just reeled sex.
"So how long has it been? For You?"
"Carter? Do you mind?"
His voice, she thought, however high and whiny right now,
was better at its...regular pitch. But at least, this way
it left room for her to wig him out.
"Just trying' to start an interesting conversation."
"Well, asking about that is not the way to do it. Besides,
you seem to have got your own-"
"Colonel," "I don't want to fight, okay. I'm fed up of fighting with you."
"I'm not saying-"
"And you don't have to Colonel. I know what you're thinking. We work together, remember?"
"Ya Think? Wow, never plastered you as having a penchant for
mind reading Carter, you must have-" Sensing the cracking ice
and 'Soldier Jack' rapour in his words, she continued an
interruption, hoping that the chill between them was the air
and not anything that she wasn't ready to discuss.
"Jack. Look. I didn't tell you, because I didn't, I didn't expect it to last."
"No?"
"Of course not. What? You think that I have some kind of
time device, which lets me the lengths of my romantic relationships?"
"Maybe..."
"If I HAD one of those, then I wouldn't be such a failure...." She trailed off.
At the same point striking a note of the amount of failed
relationships, misses, hits, collisions. Her track record wasn't
too great. She knew this, and over the years had become aware of
the effect that her death wish had on the male race.
"Oh Come Carter, you know you're a knockout."
"I'm flattered." "But I think I'm more of a knockout, concussion,
impending death kinda gal."
"It works. It's a...seasonal look."
"I found someone, not the one but..."
"Carter, I really don't' need to-"
"I like him, and-"
"Will you let me finish? Geese, I know that 'the old' tend to
dribble on, but give me break!"
It was the first time through the entire conversation that
she'd buttoned it. Thank god, otherwise he couldn't have coped.
And then he'd wind up having to kiss her just to keep her quiet,
which he liked a little too much.
"It's up to you what you do with your life, I'm not a part of it.
I just don't need to know."
"Look I need to say this. Just sit there, be quiet, and let me do the talking."
"When Daniel left, I realised I had to change. Myself.
The way that I act, on things...and how I deal with other things...
Look we both know that I could die at any time, so could you,
and that, puts us in a very odd and dangerous position for a start.
But I can't be can't be your 'Carter' anymore. I refuse to.
I can't hide everything until it burns up inside.
I'm not a shinny soldier anymore, I'm older, and I'm wiser and I
don't deal as well as I used to. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Pete.
I know the whole mess-o-crap and I should have told you. OR at least,
talked about it, because it's important to not keep from you.
I'd expect the same from you."
"You really don't know me at all, do you?"
"I know you better than you know yourself."
"Them's fightin' words Missy."
"I mean it. I'm sorry." She whispered, almost sorry for more than just 'Pete'.
Her fingers drew to the stubble edge of his chin.
He flinched almost slightly, twitching the broad end of his shoulders.
Even drawing a hand near hers for a second, either to stop or encourage her.
Either was an option.
She slid her roughed fingers down to his chin allowing the movement
of his face, and calmly pursed her lips against the bristly part of
his left cheek, allowing him to gasp silently, just a little,
just what was to be seen remained as an allowed gesture, but lingered like a brand.
"So, uh. Back to whose fault it is," He quickly turned o the nearest topic in his head.
"I'm guessin' a not so little, honkin' four-eyed snake weasel of a space monkey?"
"Yep. Definitely Daniel,"
------------------------------------
And there it fell off, all recollection of their conversation.
Even her unofficial vow of loyalty. And her gesture.
All of it shredded between them, told to be forgotten, disallowed, nor remembered,
Like the flick of a switch.
-----------------------
Feed please.
Thanks
Any cabbags to throw?
SEND TO:
2 I dont care anymore
Love Me Street
Canada--
JUS KIDDIN' ;)
Athena XXX