Bathwater

Author's notes- I'm a little unsure about the rating for this so it may change over time. I just want to say that I'm writing this out of a need to show a different side of Sam and hopfuly still stay in character. A warning now this will be a dark story. Anyway, please read and reply. I love feedback!

Sam threw her car keys casually on the island kitchen counter as she walked through her house trying to ignore the fact that she felt like a stranger in her own home. The sound of metal against plastic was loud, shattering an annoyingly humble silence and gave Sam a very selfish feeling of satisfaction.

She negotiated round her kitchen in darkness having been too tired to turn the lights on, dreading remembering how long it had been since last time she had returned to this place and what condition her potted plants would be in.

Stubbing her toe against a chair leg she cursed softly under her breath frustrated. Finally her fingertips met with the cool solidness if her fridge. Opening the door she winced as a bright artificial light cut through the silent night. Sam narrowed her eyes sleepily as she reached inside feeling as if she was a criminal on the run suddenly caught in a hot searchlight red handed.

Unaware at why she was feeling so guilty and on edge Sam pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind trying to focus on those nice basic thoughts; food, warmth, sleep. Pulling an open milk carton out of the otherwise bare fridge she sniffed it curiously only to turn her nose up at the sour smell that met her nostrils. She really had not been home for a while.

And that was the problem. Somehow this object of wood, brick, concrete and glass was inspiring the same feeling of guilt you would feel for abandoning a puppy. It was not a comforting thought when you realised you would feel more comfortable sleeping in an itchy military issue bed on the base or in some sweaty sleeping bag off world.

It was not the issue of comfort or the fact that she spent all her time working whether or not she needed to but compared to the SGC this place was boring and empty. Reminding her that she had recently thrown away the little life she had outside the military world. It was not as if she enjoyed always having to fight for her life but after doing so for so long coming back to the real world always made her feel like an outsider.

Helping Mrs Robinson from next door across the road or fixing Mr Dixon's car were normal friendly things to do but it was impossible to look at this side of her life in the same way after everything she had seen and did.

Scolding herself mentally for once again thinking too much Sam absently closed the fridge door with a yawn. Ridiculously the position of her bin had slipped from her memory (probably replaced with something to do with control crystals or ancient technology) so she dumped the milk on the counter planning to tidy up some point in the future after she had slept for a long time.

Walking through to the living room she was guided by a small amount of soft light that crept through gaps in curtains from orange street lamps. As food was out of the question Sam decided the most satisfying course of action would be to curl up in her nice warm soft bed and order a pizza or something when she woke up.

Already dreaming of sleep she started to remove her jacket and top before she even reached the living room dumping the clothes unceremoniously on the sofa as she kicked of her shoes grateful that she had changed before she left the base so she did not have to deal with clumpy boots.

With one hand she quickly undid the back of her bra throwing the confiding garment onto the growing pile of fabric, the cold air refreshing against her bare skin. Bending over to remove her socks she jumped in surprise as someone grabbed her harshly from behind.

Straightening up quickly she felt her attacker behind her. The attacker smelt male, a mixture of sweat, leather and cigarettes graced her nose. He was taller and wider that she was with rough hands holding her tightly against him around her waist. Fingernails dug into her soft flesh causing her hiss in pain.

Her back was flat against cold, wet slippery leather and she was reminded that it had been raining. A head dipped towards her ear as she struggled and a low gravel like laugh filled her ears.

"Careful you don't get yourself hurt girly girl." The mocking words whispered to her disturbed the silence as much as any louder sound. The voice was filled with a dangerous promise that she did not doubt.

Refusing to give in Sam continued to struggle brining a leg up only to slam it back down on a boot-coated foot as hard as she could. The gruff laughter was replaced with an angry grunt of pain.

"Of course, you might enjoy getting all hurt." The voice mumbled cruelly holding her tighter so that she was forced to hold still.

As he spoke a callous hand snaked up her chest to roughly fondle a breast. At the same time he ran his nose up the curve of her neck taking in her smell like a territorial animal. Lips hovered inches from skin so that she could feel hot breath against her neck before sharp teeth sunk into tender flesh.

The attacker smiled with thin lips at her reaction. Feeling Sam wince in pain and her body react to his controlling touch as a nipple hardened under hand. Her reaction to the pain was to try to escape. Pulling her body forward it was as if Sam was held by an elastic band and she found herself held closer to the large frame behind her than before. With her slim form bucking against him her attacker was in no doubt that she felt his own arousal dig into her lower back.

"Bastard!" She provoked angrily.

"Don't play all innocent now girly, I know you love playing dirty just as much as I do." He loosened his hold on her refusing to rise to the bait she had set so that Sam could twist round in his arms but not escape his hold.

Once facing him the smug smile the littered the corner of his lips and his acid green eyes sparkled with obvious arrogance only to serve to increase both her anger and her arousal. With her chest firmly against his biker jacket she was suddenly too hot and uncomfortable in the clothes that held the lower half of her body.

The familiar face of her attacker moved as if to open that annoying mouth again and make some kind of comment. Knowing that if she had to listen to this idiot any longer she was not sure if she would be able to stop herself from reaching for her side arm (which she still wore on her hip) and blow his brains out. As she did not want to have to spend hours cleaning jerk brains from her carpet she reframed from that idea choosing instead to silence him with her lips.

The kiss was violent and passionate, pure lust. Lips, teeth and tongue fight for dominance as hands grope mindlessly. During the blind fight Sam found herself being slammed against a wall, the wind knocked from her lungs. Taking Sam's breathlessness as an opportunity her attacker fondled the inside of her thigh, kissing her deeply at the same time so that she could not gulp down a needed breath.

By the time the kiss had ended Sam took in air hungrily noticing for the first time that he had somehow removed her pants and panties as well as letting his own lower clothes fall into a pool around his ankles without her realising. A hand held its place between her thighs.

"What I wouldn't give for you dear General O'Neill to see you know." Her attacker gloated before picking her up so that Sam had to rap her long smooth legs around his waist. Her back grazed by the rough wall was the last thought on her mind as he entered her.

Maybe she could live dangerously at home…