Title: Sweet Water
Author: Hope
Rating: High Rish
Pairing: Janet/Sam/Jonas
Keywords: Porn
WC: 1,373
Spoilers: General for season six.
Summary: The world is spinning, is a blur of blue on gold on brown on skin on her.
Author's Note: For Geonn for the Janet Fraiser Ficathon. This is not the fic I set out to write. It is the product of a night spent sitting in the dark without power trying to figure out how to write Stargate threesome!kink without being angsty and weird or having one of the main characters be dead (don't ask). It was written in all of three hours and has not been betaed.
Disclaimer: Most, if not all of the content of this story does not belong to me. The characters and settings belong to their creators and other such bigwigs. I'm not making any money off this.
Archive: Want. Take. Tell.

P5X-723 is a pretty unremarkable planet. There are plenty of transplanted natives - descendants of Earth's Norsemen, apparently, although there doesn't seem to be an Asgard presence, - with their less advanced society and fair share of cultural quirks. And, of course, there are trees. Lots and lots of trees.

Pretty much what SG-1 has come to expect from Gate travel.

Although, the flying fish are kind of different.

-

Huxley, the SGC's resident biologist is busy studying a rare species of bird extinct on Earth, but alive and well on PY8-931, so Janet is all too happy to gear up when the Colonel radios back and asks for assistance. It's been a slow week at the SGC and a while since she's been off-world.

And she's always enjoyed ichthyology.

-

SG-1 is invited to accompany some of the villagers on a big fishing expedition in preparation for an up coming feast. At the look on the Colonel's face Sam is quick to volunteer to stay behind and help Janet with the research. Jonas is smart enough to follow her lead.

Teal'c looks almost pained as he follows O'Neill toward the waiting boats.

-

The Noatuns are happy to share everything they know about the skadi, their name for the flying fish.

Which is basically that Niord, their god, saw that they were without food, took a bird from the sky, placed it in the sea, taught them how to catch it and told them to eat up.

It's also supposed to be great grilled with a side of algae.

-

Once he's made sure of their comfort Urd, their Noatun guide, rushes off to help with the feast preparations and they are left to their work.

Without the right equipment she can't be sure, but Janet suspects that there's nothing all that unusual about the skadi. Aside from the bony wings that protrude from their sides in place of fins, that is.

Sam and Jonas are all too happy to put down the knives and wash the fish guts from their hands. They pack up some live samples to take back to Huxley and decide to see if they can't help their hosts.

-

After the third time Jonas trips, spilling the jug of water he is carrying everywhere, Urd suggests that they take a walk down to the beach and greet the boats upon their return. It's all Janet can do not to laugh at the pained look on the Noatun's face.

-

They find a place to rest against the skeleton of an old boat as they wait for Teal'c and O'Neill to return. They discuss their nonfindings, the recent adventures in Stevenson, how big a fish the Colonel will try and convince them he almost had. Their conversation soon flows into a comfortable silence and Janet is glad for the peace of the moment.

The sun is warm, the air cool, the water beautiful and she finds herself nodding off. Sam beats her to it, her head coming to rest on Janet's shoulder as she drifts off. Janet is pleasantly surprised as Jonas shoots her a smile before returning his attention to the green blue waves.

She drifts to sleep with a smile of her own.

-

Janet wakes to the sound of footsteps on the sand just as Jonas stands to greet the group of villagers headed their way. She turns to see that the small group of boats have returned, beaching themselves in the wet sand.

The Colonel jumps out of the closest boat and heads toward them, already boasting about the one that got away. Teal'c's raised eyebrow broadcasts his disbelief.

-

The Noatuns insist they stay for the feast and O'Neill is all too happy to agree.

The whole of the village gathers at the two large tables that have been set up around a huge fire on the beach.

The grilled fish is delicious and the sweet water drink they are given is slippery smooth down her throat.

After the meal is consumed all eyes are drawn to the village poet. From his position on top one of the tables he weaves a tale of bitter winter and famine, of alien gods in ships of light bringing destruction, of Niord's triumph and his gift of Noatun and the skadi. His voice mixes with the heat of the flames and the invisible crash of waves, breathing life into his words.

-

She's not sure when it happened, but the story is over and now she's standing in front of the villagers, back to the fire, the others at her side.

The steady beat of a single drum rises out of the darkness and the lead elder steps up to her. His voice is too low for her to understand as he sprinkles water on her head before handing her a large cup of the sweet drink and continuing down the line. A quick look to her left gets her only a shrug from Sam in response to her questioning look.

When in Rome....

With a shrug of her own she downs the cool drink, relishing its smooth bite.

-

More drums begin to weave their rhythm into the air, the villagers joining with them in a song of joy of sorrow of celebration of death of life. And the firelight only thickens the shadows cast on the sand as they dance.

Janet doesn't even try to fight it, just lets the tide of their song, dance, drink, life pull her into the music. A part of her brain screams that this isn't right, isn't professional, isn't safe, but Sam's arms circle her waist from behind and the music drowns her thoughts. She half notices that the others have joined in too; Jonas keeps close even as he lets the beat wash through him; Jack's made friends with some of the native women. Even the ever stoic Teal'c seems to be feeling the pulse of the music.

She throws her head back and laughs. It doesn't matter if they look like fools cause the natives are friendly, the food is good and the punch is most definitely spiked.

-

The Colonel and Teal'c seem to have disappeared and she's vaguely aware that there's something not good about that, but she can't seem to break through the sweet haze of the night enough to care. Can't concentrate long enough to think about much of anything other than the lips on her neck, the hands on her waist, the music in her blood.

-

She is hot is the fire is spinning and she needs something, anything.

The invisible splash of the waves against the shore beckons to her and she grabs the arm around her waist and pulls, leads toward the white noise.

The wet sand is soft against her bare feet, the cold water sends shocks up her spine. She dives under, pushes against the waves to surface further out and gulps air greedily before diving right back in.

The next time she surfaces there's a body at her back and a mouth on her lips.

-

The world is spinning, is a blur of blue on gold on brown on skin on her.

The air is dark is sweet is light is heavy against her skin, her lungs, her eyes.

She can't move her arms, can't feel her toes, can't breathe with all this delicious weight on her chest, against her back.

There is harsh wet sand and soft, soft skin and she can't see but she can feel, can taste, can hear and that's more than enough.

And the music is still pounding in her head, her bones, her blood only now it's of her own creation.

-

Sam's face is above Janet's, mouth ghosting over her lips. Her eyes are wide and her moan is deep, is I love you, I want you, I need you.

Jonas' hand is on her hip, is there is wow and fast and hard and gentle and loving and wow.

-

The world is on fire. There is sand in her mouth and a drum in her head. Sam's head is on her head and Jonas' hand is on her stomach.

There's a smile on her face.