Disclaimer: Never say never again. Really, the moment you say, that'll be a one-shot, someone will write a fic that inspires you- like my GateSeeker2 pal- and you'll find your brain whirling with ideas for another go-round. Everyone looking forward to the Threads Episodes- 2 parts of agony/ecstasy- while despising the thought of Kerry and Jack almost as much as Sam and Pete (cause we haven't seen her yet- I'm sure we'll loathe her just as much afterwards)...this is for you! lol
Twisted Threads
Pocketing the keys to her Volvo, Lt. Colonel Samantha Carter frowned at the place Jack...General O'Neill...had suggested they meet at for a TGIF get-together. It was...different...from O'Malley's- that was readily apparent. The line of motorcycles parked out front was the first clue. The neon sign of a crowing cock and the name The Red Rooster emblazoned above the door was another. In the windows, so many beer logos blazed that it almost looked like Christmas lights. Glancing down at the cowboy boots Cassie had sent with the not-so-subtle message- These boots were made for walkin'- so wear them and maybe you'll walk away from...things...that aren't good for you- the leggy blonde smiled ruefully. At least her boots and tight jeans would fit right in with the boot-scootin' clientele. Double-checking to make sure every button on her blue silk camp shirt was fastened; Sam took a deep breath and walked into the bar.
Scanning the dim, smoke-hazy interior, the tall woman coughed until her lungs became accustomed to the contaminants in what passed as air. The interior was roomier than it looked from the outside. At the far left a small stage backed against the wall painted with a monster-sized red rooster. A small dance floor stood empty in front of it. The bar ran the length of the back wall, and what looked like the local order of Hell's Angels was propping up most of the bar stools. Tables and chairs were scattered over the middle of the room, with pool tables taking center stage at the far right. A boyishly enthusiastic voice called from the dark corner by the dance floor,
"Hey Sam, over here!"
Daniel was waving with a beer bottle in his hand. Some sloshed out and he grinned as he shook it off his fingers. Laughing, Sam weaved her way through the tables until she reached the group. Telling the man whose vivid blue eyes glinted with humor behind his glasses that they'd been harder to spot than Gorillas in the mist; the tall woman returned his brief hug and accepted a bottle of beer. Smirking at the General who looked way too good in a denim shirt and jeans, Carter raised her long neck bottle and said, "Guinness? In a honky-tonk like this? I'm impressed!"
"You don't think I'd suggest a place that didn't serve it, did you?"
Brown eyes locked with bluish grey as she returned the mischievous grin, glad to be with him...and the rest of the guys. Teal'c had just figured out that she'd been referring to a movie with the Gorilla's comment and was saying,
"Gorillas would be very hard to see in the mist. Indeed, anything would."
Daniel rolled his eyes and handed the other man a basket of peanuts. The large man accepted the nuts. Curving his lips, Teal'c informed Sam,
"The floor in this establishment is made of a substance that is conducive to cleaning with pressured water. The customers are encouraged to throw the shells onto the floor. It is very amusing to do so- here, try it."
Accepting a nut and dutifully breaking it open and throwing the shell over her shoulder, the Lt. Colonel was shocked to hear a breathy feminine voice exclaim,
"Ouch!"
The General responded to her look of incredulity with a sheepish grin. Sam knew her mouth was hanging open in affronted disbelief, but she couldn't help it. Kerry Johnson, C.I.A. operative and all around perky pain in the ass was sitting her frilly white blouse and long denim skirted self down by 'Jack' and smiling at everyone. Noticing the other woman's expression, a look of concern darkened Kerry's eyes.
"Don't look so upset, Sandra, I know you didn't mean to hit me with that shell. It's not your fault that my skin's so delicate." A small, elegant hand rose to the small red mark on her cheekbone and rubbed.
"It's Samantha."
Melodic laughter poured from the woman who was giving Scarlett O'Hara a run for her money in the feminine wiles department.
"Oh, silly me, I keep forgetting. Sa-man-tha...I should remember that because you have 'man' in your name and Jack tells me you're just like one of the guys."
The hand resting in Carter's lap clenched into a fist. Before she could do something rash, say throw her beer in the perfectly made up face, Teal'c's throwing of peanut shells onto the floor distracted Ms. Johnson's attention.
"Oh, oh no, no, don't do that...I know you're not from our planet, and your ways are not our ways, but throwing things on the floor is called littering here on earth, and I must insist you stop."
"Shall you also insist the other patrons stop? Perhaps the owner should be apprised of your view on littering, as he has encouraged the customers to do precisely that with their shells...maybe his ways are not your ways either."
Wow. Teal'c's lifted eyebrow was amazing. It depressed the woman's pretensions better than his impassively scathing words. She looked ready to cry until 'Jack' smoothed things over, explaining to Kerry, in small words, about the floor, and peanuts, and how it wasn't littering. The woman gave an appealingly embarrassed smile,
"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry, I had no idea...this is a very...rustic...place, isn't it?"
"That's one way to describe it."
Daniel was looking around the bar in amused interest. Sam wondered if he was trying to find a missing link among the customers. The guy with the leather vest and copious back hair at the end of the bar would be a good candidate for DNA testing.
About to kid the smiling man about his potential anthropological find, Carter was interrupted by the bartender, who announced that karaoke night had officially begun. The group flashed each other horrified looks, except for Johnson. She clapped her hands and stood up abruptly.
"Oh Jack, I love to sing...I want to sing a song just for you...and the rest of the guys, of course."
"Of course" Carter agreed snidely. The sarcasm slid off Teflon Woman and she pranced onto the stage where a gentleman with a ten-gallon hat and a rodeo belt buckle that could almost be seen under his beer gut helped her pick a song. Sitting on a stool with a microphone, Kerry looked like a Stepford Wife gone Country. Her smile was just as creepy. She didn't need to read words like other mortals. The goddess of music just needed to stare over at Jack's face to be inspired to sing,
Jaws dropped around the table. Daniel's blue eyes were huge behind his glasses. They'd been on missions that had tested their spirits, their endurance, even their sanity, but this was beyond anything they'd experienced before.
"Rocky Mountain High"
Before Sam's horrified gaze, the guys seemed to fall under the spell of the syrupy voice and sugary lyrics. Daniel's forehead creased, as if trying to fight the impulse to give in to the siren song. Teal'c stared ahead without expression- perhaps he was escaping to a safe place in his mind. The General...Jack, to the creature warbling about 'the forest and the stream', was smiling reminiscently. Was he imagining catching the biggest fish in the lake or remembering teaching the woman who was displaying her capped teeth so well how to fish? What else had he taught her? Blinking as the last 'Rocky Mountain High' hung in the air more corrosively than carcinogens; Jack gave a bemused grin and confessed,
"I used to think people who sang that song should be taken out and shot- but now, I don't know. I'm really starting to like it. Go figure."
Carter figured it was the figure of the woman who was bouncing back to her seat like some energizer bunny, who kept going, and going, and going, who'd changed his formerly rational intellect. Holy Hannah, did this woman have the power to cloud men's minds or what? Listening to her dazed friends and colleagues' compliment the woman on her 'beautiful song', the blonde slammed her third beer onto the table with a thud. Everyone looked at her. Kerry frowned, possibly at Sam's rude drawing of attention away from the center of the universe- herself.
Standing up, she told the group, "If you want to hear a song, well, do I have a song for you." Relaxed enough from alcohol to do something she might wish she couldn't remember tomorrow, Sam headed to the stage. After asking 'Cowboy Bob' if he had the song she had in mind, he grinned, displaying the results of decades of smoking. Taking a step back, Carter wondered if she might not be making a big mistake. Looking at sheet music, her analytical mind quickly reassured her that she did remember the words to the song Cassie had highlighted on the back of the CD included with the boots. For some unfathomable reason, the tune had stuck in her head and been sung constantly ever since. Pete had heard her humming it one day and asked her laughingly when she'd started listening to Country. She had said she didn't, but that wasn't the whole truth. Sam had become very fond of listening to one particular song by a specific country artist.
Grey-blue eyes flickered to the table. The guys were laughing. Okay, maybe she'd sung Row, Row, Row Your Boat badly one time, but that was because she'd been self-conscious. After a few beers, she no longer cared who heard, and her vocal quality improved dramatically. Or so Peter assured her. Shrugging, she glanced over Jack's way again. He was smiling at her and nodding his head in encouragement. His dark chocolate gaze enticed her into doing something wild. She took off her shirt. She was wearing a white camisole and strapless bra under it, but he didn't know that when she undid the first button. His lips parted and kept widening until his mouth hung open. The General's eyes followed her fingers intently. When she opened her blouse and let the sleeves fall off her shoulders, the bikers at the bar weren't the only ones whistling. Daniel had both pinky fingers in his mouth making a shrill sound, but Jack's was a silent one that thrilled her the most.
"Ya ready, lil' lady?"
Dropping her blouse onto the stool she wouldn't be sitting on, Carter nodded and picked up the microphone. A sideways glance at Ms. Posture-Perfect was all she needed to harden her resolve to give the folks a song they wouldn't forget. Waving to the boys at the bar, who didn't look so frightening anymore, Samantha explained that she was singing a song by Lee Ann Womack and waited for the music to begin. The song was a good one for a shaky singer- she could talk/sing the song about having a sister bring over a paper with the woman's Ex...and his fiancée's picture 'on the social page'.
Sam was no 'Redneck Woman', but some concepts are universal. The crowd sure seemed to like her song, or maybe it was the way she swung her hips. Daniel was falling over laughing at the way she looked at Kerry when singing that line. Her shoulders were getting into the act as she pointed to the table and declared the song title, "I really hate her, I'll think of a reason later."
The clapping and shouted encouragement really loosened Sam up. She was doing moves she hadn't done since she was Cassie's age. The good General was riveted. He pulled his collar away from his throat, as if it had suddenly become too tight. She shook everything that moved as she sang. Ms. Johnson was starting to get the idea that maybe; just maybe; the song was directed at her. Gee, Carter only had to point at her, and sing staring at the table for her to get a clue. She'd love to see the woman's SAT scores...and find out if her IQ was bigger than her bra size too. The woman was glaring with pink cheeks as Sam finished.
Bowing to her adoring fans, which set them to whooping and hollering even more for some reason, the blonde grabbed her blouse and strolled back to the table. Teal'c nodded his head in approval. Daniel was holding his sides and gasping,
"That was...amazing, Sam...I didn't think you had it in you. If I didn't hurt so bad from laughing, I'd hug you."
O'Neill was staring at her as if he'd like to pull her across the table, onto his lap, and kiss her with long, slow, deep, wet kisses. She leaned forward, to make his reach easier, when sharp fingernails gouged her arm. Red faced and determined, Kerry demanded,
"Were you singing that song...about me?"
"Wow, you're smarter than you look." Whoever was currently taking over Sam's formerly cool, calm and collected body was welcome to keep it until they ripped those fake fingernails off and sent this woman packing. When the alternate personality sat on Jack's lap though, Sam would take it from there.
"Don't touch her, lady."
The large gentleman with the skull tattoo was sweet to intervene, but another patron whose pony-tail was poor compensation for the large bald spot on top of his head disagreed.
"She can touch anybody she wants, man."
It seemed the patrons were divided on who they preferred- Sam or Kerry. The only way they had to determine the winner was a barroom brawl. Carter ducked a wild swing that flew her way and shoved Ms. Johnson toward the door. "Get out of here before you get hurt!" Squeaking, Kerry ran incredibly fast for a woman in four inch heels. Sneering at the woman's retreating backside, which was a lot bigger than she'd thought, Sam almost got punched in the face. Luckily, she was able to raise her arm and take it in the elbow. The enormous biker who'd thrown the punch bent over and cried like a little girl from the pain.
Giving Teal'c a high five, the Lt. Colonel only had to side kick a couple of knees to make her way to the door with the rest of the guys. Outside, they ran toward their vehicles like teenagers trying to leave a wild party before the cops were called. Teal'c jumped into Daniel's car and the two grinned as the brown-haired man sprayed gravel pealing out of the parking lot. Ms. Johnson's car was long gone. Standing between Jack's truck and her car, Sam almost put on her shirt, but she didn't feel cold. Not with the way those brown eyes were roaming heatedly over her curves.
"Hey Carter"
"Yeah"
"Call me Jack"
She grinned, "Okay Jack...call me Sam"
"Hey Sam"
"Yeah, Jack?"
He moved closer, the gleam in his eye one she'd dreamed about seeing for a long, long time. A warm palm cupped her cheek as he looked into her eyes and asked,
"Can I...?"
Her mouth answered the question he hadn't asked yet, pressing against his as she melted into his embrace. All thoughts of fraternization and fiancées were lost as lips clung and moved in a kiss that had been building for years. It was worth the wait. Sam sank her fingers into Jack's short hair, while he returned the favor, using his grip on her soft strands to tilt her head and deepen the kiss. Nothing had ever felt as good as Jack's body moving against hers. Sam wanted to kiss him for hours. She wanted to do lots of things with him for hours. Some distant corner of her brain started calculating how many hours were theoretically possible for her to have left in her life. The number sounded way too low, but she supposed it would do. The hood of her Volvo had never seemed a particularly romantic spot, but now it was the ideal place to lean back against as Jack's lips left hers and trailed kisses across her cheek, down her neck and...
"Sam! Sam! Are you okay? I called a dozen times but you didn't answer! Wake up, baby!"
Being shaken awake by her fiancée when she'd just been dreaming about another man made Sam's heart pound harder than when Jack's lips had been just about to... She brushed Pete's hands away, sitting up and lunging off the bed. His eyes gave her that puppy dog look. Why was she always pulling away? Shaking her head, she smiled shakily and said in apology, "Sorry, Pete...I had a...really...intense dream...and when you woke me so abruptly, I was..."
He smiled understandingly,
"Hey, I should've known better. When I'm sleeping, sometimes I throw a punch if someone tries to wake me up. Don't worry about it beautiful, what was dream about...interplanetary bad guys chasing you?"
No. Not quite. Stretching her lips into a smile, the blonde ran a shaky hand through her hair and lied, "Something like that. Look, I need to get a shower, wake up...do you want to have breakfast here, or go out?"
"Let's go out."
Relieved at not having to be trapped with Pete in her small kitchen, she nodded and hurriedly ducked into the bathroom, wondering when she'd started thinking of being with Pete as being trapped. Animals were trapped, not people. She had chosen to be with him, she wasn't caught, having to decide whether to gnaw off a limb or tug futilely until a hunter put her out of her misery. Stepping under the warm spray, Carter concentrated on washing her crazy thoughts and the memory of that crazy dream away with the slight tang of sweat.
Pulling on a pair of jeans and sticking the boots Cassie had sent in the back of the closet, she picked out a tee with tiny bluebells printed on it because Pete had complimented her the last time she'd worn it. Said it turned her blue-grey eyes as pretty as the flowers. Alright, the compliment left a lot to be desired when analyzed, but like most things, Pete was best taken at face value. Impulsively, Sam wore a pair of small gold hoop earrings that, along with the makeup and flowery shirt made her look incredibly feminine. So soft and feminine, in fact, that she almost changed her top for a tailored shirt. The sight of the blue camp shirt in the closet changed her mind. Sliding the door shut, she took a deep breath, or ten, plastered a smile on her face and went into the living room to tell Pete she was ready.
"Hey, Sam"
Her head jerked up as the words reminded her of the dream she'd been trying to forget. Controlling her expression and showing only mild interest, she asked stiltedly, "Yes?"
"Are you nervous about me hanging with your pals, what they'll think about me? You've picked at your food, hardly talked, it's not like you. What gives?"
She was becoming way too good at faking smiles. "Nothing...maybe I'm a little tired. Of course I'm not nervous. Who wouldn't like you, Pete?"
His face broke into a cocky grin. Pete Shanahan knew that he had a way with people. They liked him right away. The guys at his new precinct said 'Shanahan's The Man' when it came to talking to reluctant witnesses. He could charm little old ladies or hardened criminals into letting down their guards. He'd certainly charmed her into lowering hers. Samantha stopped that train of thought in its tracks. Pete had not cold-bloodedly set out to stalk and 'get' her. He'd fallen in love with her just like she'd...she'd...
"Ready to go, gorgeous?"
Nodding, she followed her fiancée out of the cafe. She wondered if she was doing the right thing, bringing Pete over to this little get together. A part of her knew it was because of who was hosting it. If anyone else had said, "I told Jack I wanted to have you guys over for a cookout and he said he'd help, so will you come and bring your fiancée?" she would've invented a reason not to come. The truth was she didn't know how her closest friends in the universe were going to react to Pete. What if they didn't approve of him? What if they did? She opened her car door and slipped inside, telling herself that she was a modern woman and didn't need a man opening every door for her. They drove to a lovely house on a large lot overlooking a lake. A woman answered the door.
"Lt. Colonel...sorry, Samantha, I'm so glad you could come. Everyone's in the back. This must be Pete. Hello Pete, I'm Kerry Johnson."
The Shanahan charm worked its magic and the two chatted comfortably as Kerry led them through her beautifully decorated home to the kitchen where it was obvious that the woman enjoyed cooking. The professional stove and number of pots and herbs hanging over a center island gave Sam a pang. Not that she loved to cook, but that she knew men appreciated women who did. The back yard was a perfect lawn that led to the lake. The Colonel watched Medium length, perfect oval nails pinched off a dead flower as they passed a pot overflowing with annuals on the patio, In the distance, Carter could see Teal'c and Daniel casting lines into the lake from the wooden dock with picturesque gazebo at the end. Ha. Teal'c must be desperate to get away from Ms. Perfect to resort to fishing. Chiding herself for her unkind thought, Sam looked over at the other end of the patio, where the General was placing steaks on the grill. O'Neil looked over as he heard Kerry say warmly,
"The gang's all here Jack, how long until dinner?"
He smiled and said, "When the cow don't say moo."
The woman laughed and placed a hand on his arm. Casually, he moved toward the couple watching and it dropped to her side. Sam watched a disappointed expression shadow the woman's face and tried not to feel glad. Her eyes met the ones from her dream. They were just as dark and deep and full of longing... Pete stretched out his hand and the General shook it. The two men talked hockey and her fiancée accepted a beer that the prematurely silver-haired man offered from the cooler.
"Guinness, huh...I'm usually a Budweiser man myself, but this'll do fine."
A silver eyebrow rose as a humorous dark glance was shot Sam's way. Kerry and Pete carried the conversation while the blonde tried to ignore the way O'Neill scrutinized everything about the man she'd planned...she planned to marry. The other woman hooked her arm through the General's and this time he allowed it to stay there. Bluish-grey eyes met deep-set brown. She could feel her eyes mist. She must be allergic to something. Probably Kerry's perfume...or maybe Pete's cologne...
Suggesting to Pete that they go walk down the dock and say hello to Teal'c and Daniel, Sam curved her lips as Ms. Johnson said she'd stay and get the food ready, keep Jack company. Unable to look at Jack again, the taller woman nodded and moved toward the dock, holding Pete's hand. Daniel was jumping up and down in excitement over reeling in a fish. Teal'c was shaking his head, perplexed as to how his text-book superior method of casting had not achieved such favorable results. She could hear Kerry telling Jack what a cute couple she and 'that nice Detective Shanahan' made, and asking when they were getting married. O'Neill's reply made her spirits lift, and for the first time since they'd arrived, a true smile spread across Sam's face.
"Not anytime soon, that's for sure. Carter's got too much damn work to do."
A/N: Thanks again to GateSeeker2, who caught a mistake that had my brown eyes turning blue...samething I had to do to Daniel's to fix the faux pas- lol. My pal's new fic made me bummed, although I know it will be happy in the end, so I wrote this to cheer myself up. I love the thought of cool, calm, and collected Sam going wild, and especially going wild with Jack. heh. Give me the gift of a review and let me know how you liked the second installment of Threads! Live and die free and all that jazz!