Disclaimer: Definitely owned by someone else. No money is being made from this work of fiction.
Rating: R. Mention of sex.
Spoilers/Set: S8, post-Affinity.
Pairing: Sam/Pete, Sam/Jack.
Summary: It's a Thursday when Pete figures it out.
Archive: Ask and it's yours.
Notes: Probably been done before. shrug
Crystal Breaks Easy by Petra Williams
It's a Thursday when he figures it out. Thursday at 3:14 a.m. precisely, the red numbers glowing in the dark of their (well, hers still, but they share it) bedroom. She has collapsed next to him, spent and almost asleep. Pete would be following her, but he has just figured it all out. And he doesn't want to sleep without setting it down appropriately in his mind so that he doesn't forget.
"Where are you going?" Her sleepy question comes when he slides from the bed and heads for the door.
"Bathroom."
"'K."
He knows she will be asleep in moments, even covered in sweat and bodily fluids, her body is now tired enough to sleep.
There is still coffee in the pot, though it's probably nearly 24 hours old and colder than the snow outside. (well, not quite. It hasn't frozen yet). He pours a mug and sits down at her kitchen table.
And lets the revelation play through his mind again.
Sam Carter doesn't love him. In fact, Sam Carter uses him for sex and companionship and to fill the innate need of every human being to be touched and held and cuddled.
There is a pattern to the way she has sex. It has taken him months of observation to even notice it. And longer still to understand the way it fit together, and how the lives of her team-mates made it shift and morph. She only comes when she's on top is a cliche, but he knows it's true. And she only comes more than once when she's had particularly long days on base.
Days where she says in irritated tones that "General O'Neill" bothered her all day.
Bothered her.
Right.
He liked that about her, once upon a time. Loved that she was aggressive enough to get on top, and he also thought it was damn sexy to watch her up there, her eyes closed and her head falling back as she rode him.
Now, he understands that when she's pinning him down, her hands holding his wrists and her breasts nearly close enough for his mouth to molest, that she's imagining he is another man.
She comes on him, but not for him.
The difference shouldn't feel this painful.
Someday, he suspects he will look back on this and laugh. Someday when she is no longer his (not that she is his, and that is becoming clearer and clearer), he will look back and wonder if she could have been.
"Pete?"
Right now, though, he has her standing in the doorway, sleepy and confused. Samantha Carter is beautiful in any situation, but there's something endearing about her when she's confused. It hurts to think that.
"Pete, what is it?"
"Did you ever love me?" The words are torn from him before he can consider their worth.
Later, he will remember that it was unfair to ask her something so cutting and serious when she is just barely awake.
But right now, all he can see is her surprise, "I don't--"
"Love me?" He snorts, his words harsh. "I'm beginning to figure that out, Sam."
"Pete." She is more awake now, but suddenly uncertain. "What's the matter?"
Tell me you love me. Tell me the world will end if I walk out of your life and don't look back.
Her hand reaches for him and he simply stares at it, at her. He has given so much to this woman who is suddenly a stranger. And she has given so little in return. Her body. His lip curls. He gave her his soul.
The hand drops and she steps back. "I don't understand."
"I didn't until now. I can't believe--" here he lets out a harsh laugh. "I'm a detective, I'm supposed to be good at reading human nature. But I completely missed it."
"Missed what. Pete--" She looked like she wants to reach out to him, but inherently knows it's too late.
"You don't understand. Yeah." Standing he moves away, wondering if he's numb right now. "I didn't, until now. Maybe I just didn't want to." He hurts, suddenly. Hurts like he hasn't ever wanted to hurt again. Some petty side of him wants to lash out at her. Wants to make her understand how devastated this makes him. But he can be better than that. Has to be.
She catches up as he's pulling his pants on. "Pete, don't go--"
"Not like this?" Perhaps he can be petty. "Would it be better to wait until the day we're exchanging our vows and you realize what a mistake you're making."
"Pete, you're not a mistake."
"No." He shakes his head and steps into his shoes. "We were a mistake. No, wait. We were fun. You were the mistake."
Her face pales and she seems to crumple. "I don't..."
"I won't tell anyone about your life, because no one would believe me. But, Sam," he stops in front of her, suddenly regretting everything. "Don't throw your life away."
"I wasn't." Her eyes are closed.
"Yeah." He can't touch her anymore. She isn't his. She never has been. "Keep the ring. It could make a, I don't know, down payment or somethin'."
Sam Carter isn't crying, he notes as he leaves her. But he wouldn't expect her to. That's not the kind of woman she is. He wonders if she knows that.
end
Rating: R. Mention of sex.
Spoilers/Set: S8, post-Affinity.
Pairing: Sam/Pete, Sam/Jack.
Summary: It's a Thursday when Pete figures it out.
Archive: Ask and it's yours.
Notes: Probably been done before. shrug
Crystal Breaks Easy by Petra Williams
It's a Thursday when he figures it out. Thursday at 3:14 a.m. precisely, the red numbers glowing in the dark of their (well, hers still, but they share it) bedroom. She has collapsed next to him, spent and almost asleep. Pete would be following her, but he has just figured it all out. And he doesn't want to sleep without setting it down appropriately in his mind so that he doesn't forget.
"Where are you going?" Her sleepy question comes when he slides from the bed and heads for the door.
"Bathroom."
"'K."
He knows she will be asleep in moments, even covered in sweat and bodily fluids, her body is now tired enough to sleep.
There is still coffee in the pot, though it's probably nearly 24 hours old and colder than the snow outside. (well, not quite. It hasn't frozen yet). He pours a mug and sits down at her kitchen table.
And lets the revelation play through his mind again.
Sam Carter doesn't love him. In fact, Sam Carter uses him for sex and companionship and to fill the innate need of every human being to be touched and held and cuddled.
There is a pattern to the way she has sex. It has taken him months of observation to even notice it. And longer still to understand the way it fit together, and how the lives of her team-mates made it shift and morph. She only comes when she's on top is a cliche, but he knows it's true. And she only comes more than once when she's had particularly long days on base.
Days where she says in irritated tones that "General O'Neill" bothered her all day.
Bothered her.
Right.
He liked that about her, once upon a time. Loved that she was aggressive enough to get on top, and he also thought it was damn sexy to watch her up there, her eyes closed and her head falling back as she rode him.
Now, he understands that when she's pinning him down, her hands holding his wrists and her breasts nearly close enough for his mouth to molest, that she's imagining he is another man.
She comes on him, but not for him.
The difference shouldn't feel this painful.
Someday, he suspects he will look back on this and laugh. Someday when she is no longer his (not that she is his, and that is becoming clearer and clearer), he will look back and wonder if she could have been.
"Pete?"
Right now, though, he has her standing in the doorway, sleepy and confused. Samantha Carter is beautiful in any situation, but there's something endearing about her when she's confused. It hurts to think that.
"Pete, what is it?"
"Did you ever love me?" The words are torn from him before he can consider their worth.
Later, he will remember that it was unfair to ask her something so cutting and serious when she is just barely awake.
But right now, all he can see is her surprise, "I don't--"
"Love me?" He snorts, his words harsh. "I'm beginning to figure that out, Sam."
"Pete." She is more awake now, but suddenly uncertain. "What's the matter?"
Tell me you love me. Tell me the world will end if I walk out of your life and don't look back.
Her hand reaches for him and he simply stares at it, at her. He has given so much to this woman who is suddenly a stranger. And she has given so little in return. Her body. His lip curls. He gave her his soul.
The hand drops and she steps back. "I don't understand."
"I didn't until now. I can't believe--" here he lets out a harsh laugh. "I'm a detective, I'm supposed to be good at reading human nature. But I completely missed it."
"Missed what. Pete--" She looked like she wants to reach out to him, but inherently knows it's too late.
"You don't understand. Yeah." Standing he moves away, wondering if he's numb right now. "I didn't, until now. Maybe I just didn't want to." He hurts, suddenly. Hurts like he hasn't ever wanted to hurt again. Some petty side of him wants to lash out at her. Wants to make her understand how devastated this makes him. But he can be better than that. Has to be.
She catches up as he's pulling his pants on. "Pete, don't go--"
"Not like this?" Perhaps he can be petty. "Would it be better to wait until the day we're exchanging our vows and you realize what a mistake you're making."
"Pete, you're not a mistake."
"No." He shakes his head and steps into his shoes. "We were a mistake. No, wait. We were fun. You were the mistake."
Her face pales and she seems to crumple. "I don't..."
"I won't tell anyone about your life, because no one would believe me. But, Sam," he stops in front of her, suddenly regretting everything. "Don't throw your life away."
"I wasn't." Her eyes are closed.
"Yeah." He can't touch her anymore. She isn't his. She never has been. "Keep the ring. It could make a, I don't know, down payment or somethin'."
Sam Carter isn't crying, he notes as he leaves her. But he wouldn't expect her to. That's not the kind of woman she is. He wonders if she knows that.
end