Alternate Reality Ten
He was incessant.
Frustratingly incessant, to a point that she even went so far as to use the word "hate" when she was asked her opinion about him.
The worst part is, he made her laugh, usually when she was in public, and everyone thought that her precious rant about his behavior was teasing banter. That's one of the things she hated about him. He always undermined her, at least in social situations.
When it came to their job, she surpassed him in all aspects. She was much smarter, a better fighter, and most of the time avoided being kidnapped by some weird alien race or another.
But he never cared that she was better than him.
In fact, he almost seemed to enjoy it when she tried to flaunt her superiority. That just made her feel egotistical when in reality she just wanted to show him she could make it in a mostly male dominated profession.
It satisfied her when she could see his blank stare, along with that of her fellow officers, during a briefing where she had all the answers.
Daniel told her that her constant need to impress him, when he wasn't even in the service, indicated she must have a thing for him.
She disagreed, of course.
Besides, he was married, or he had been,nowa widower. And had a son. Who happened to be her 21C, and that was a rather interesting combination.
The gate program started when Charlie O'Neill was fifteen, and his father, Jack O'Neill, resident linguist, had accidentally gotten his boy involved with the Asguard.
It wasn't as if he could've helped it. Thor liked to visit his house. So Charlie was given a security clearance to know vital information, and seven years latter joined SG-1 when his father retired for the second time.
But Jack never officially left the program. He always hung around, mostly to see how his son was fairing.
He usually sat in her lab referencing languages on artifacts, and she wondered why he didn't just use his own office, but he said people kept barging in on him and her lab was quieter because she had no life and only Daniel ever came to visit her. She had responded to that with a glare that would've brought a Jaffa warrior to his knees, but had to concede that he had a point.
He tried to cheer her up once by commenting in a joking manner that Charlie had a crush on her.
She refused to believe it because for one, the linguist's son was much younger than her at the age of twenty-three, and not to mention, unlike his father, was bound by regulations. So she had just pushed it to the back of her mind dismissively and had gone back to work after explaining this to him.
She often wished Jack wouldn't bother badgering her to get out more. And more often than not, she found herself wishing that he would give her a reason to do just that.
Sara, his wife, had died after the first year of SG-1 being together as a team. He always confessed that they had had problems, and might have gotten divorced if she hadn't gotten in that accident.
Alright, so this line of thought just proved that Daniel knew her too well, she did have a thing for him.
But he could make her so angry…he was a walking contradiction in terms. For instants, he was a linguist; he knew at least a thousand different languages from a thousand different species, yet the simplest conversation held with her (in English) caused him to trip over his tongue.
He was intelligent, yet acted like he didn't know anything unless the situation absolutely demanded his expertise. And his humor was complicated, something that made people have to think, yet still he managed to make her laugh, even after having to explain the joke. It confused her, challenged her, puzzled her, and made her smile to think about it.
Sam Carter sat in her lab with her mind a tangled mess, not unlike the scene on her table, his books and papers mixed in with her science projects and reports.
And then, the object of her thoughts sauntered in.
He was holding a tray with two pieces of pecan pie on it and…a bottle of champagne.
Her curiosity spiked. This was new.
He didn't say a word. Just cleared a spot, set the tray down, went over to dim the lights, and came back to pour them drinks. Then he pulled an item from the pocket inside his jacket and let it dangle in front of her eyes as he stood behind her, his face leaning close to hers.
The item was a necklace. A simple gold chain, with a tiny, purple winged ceramic angel hanging in the middle with a silver harp in her hand.
Sam's eyes widened.
He simply grinned, chuckling slightly, the act revealing itself against her skin.
"For being my saving grace" he whispered, and slipped the piece of jewelry around her neck.
His words offered her a startling perspective.
She wondered when this had happened. When friendship, or whatever you could categorize their relationship as, had suddenly become…this…what was this exactly, and why hadn't she noticed all the moments leading up to it?
This man was incessant.
Adorably incessant.