"Get down!" Colonel O'Neill roared, and all of SG-1 hit the ground, their noses and mouths getting grass in them.
As they got up, they spat and spitted the grass out. They turned to the Stargate expectantly.
Suddenly, without any incoming travelers, the 'Gate shut down.
"Well that was weird," said Colonel O'Neill, who was closest to it.
"Indeed," said Teal'c, who was by his side.
"I wonder who it was," said Daniel, who was directly behind them.
Sam, who was behind all three of them, was concerned with an even more urgent problem. A muffled "eep!" escaped her lips.
The rest of the team turned to find her still on the ground, clutching the front of her shirt. The sleeves were hanging forward, the back of them distinctly cut off. There was a bulge in her middle, as though some item were stuffed in it. Her jacket, which she had taken off and tied around her waist previously, was lying in shreds. From the way the grass around her was disturbed, it appeared as though she had turned around to face them once she had sat up.
Samantha Jean Carter looked very disturbed indeed.
"Carter…" Colonel O'Neill said slowly, removing his sunglasses.
"Has what happened to you what I believe happened?" Teal'c asked for him.
Colonel O'Neill shot a dirty look at Teal'c. "T, the cliché is, 'are you thinking what I'm thinking'."
"But that is not what I meant to say."
Colonel O'Neill sighed, and looked back to Carter. "You okay?" he asked gruffly.
She nodded vigorously. "Yes sir, the wave only caught my…err, the fabric. It got some of my neck, too," she winced.
"Lemme see," he ordered.
Sam's pink-tinted cheeks flushed more vividly. "Sir!" she squeaked, almost letting go of the front side of her shirt. It began to fall, but she snatched at it venomously and blushed.
As she looked up at her bewildered teammates, she felt her blush grow. Especially when she realized that Colonel O'Neill was smirking THE smirk. The same smirk he'd had during her first year, when they'd visited the planet of the Shavadi. When she'd had to wear that hideous blue dress.
It had been embarrassing enough, watching him take off his hat (for he was in the presence of "a lady") and smirking like a devilish cat when she was in a blue dress (something she wouldn't have worn if Colonel O'Neill had PAID her, let alone ordered her) – but did she have to endure it when she was half naked?
Despite her protests, Colonel O'Neill came 'round to check out her neck. She hissed in breath when he touched the bloody skin.
"Well," Colonel O'Neill said, his breath murder on her wound, "that'll teach you how to keep you're a-head down."
The back of her clothes had been completely removed. Luckily, the wave hadn't taken off any layers of skin off, save for her neck (probably because her neck had been exposed, she noted). But unfortunately, she wasn't sure that her pride would survive such a blow.
She looked down to see one of Colonel O'Neill's arms snake around her waist. His fingers toyed with the lump under her shirt, which now rested near the top of her pants. "What's this?" he asked, his breath now tickling her ear.
Sam gulped. "My bra, sir," she said. She was certain her face was as red as a fire truck by now.
While Daniel could only stand there like a gaping statue, Teal'c stepped forward and tilted his head at her. "Are you ill, Major Carter?" he inquired.
"No, why?" she asked. Do I really look that weak and helpless?
"Your face is a vivid shade of crimson, similar to these flowers," he replied, hand pointing at a brush of rose-like alien flowers.
"Alright," Colonel O'Neill said. "We'd better get back to the SGC, guys. Up you go, Carter," and he tugged at her to stand up with him. As she rose, she gasped, for her pants and underwear were sliding downwards. Half a belt was completely useless, especially when you only had half a pair of pants. Feverishly, she tried to grab at them, but couldn't if she wished her breasts to remain unexposed.
"I got 'em," Colonel O'Neill said, hiking her pants back up. He stood very close to her, his clothed chest pressed against her unclothed back.
"Sir?" she said, surprised.
"I didn't think you'd want the rest of the world to see this much of you," he said. Truth be told, he didn't want anyone else seeing that much of his Major either. "But at least you fell on your front and not your back."
Yeah, if I'd fallen on my back, I might not have said breasts to remain unexposed, she thought. "Thank you sir," she whispered.
She could hear the genuine, non-smirk smile in his voice when he whispered, so that only she could hear, "Anything for you, Major."
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"You've got a second degree burn, there, Sam," Dr. Fraiser scolded. "What happened?"
The blush Sam had managed to downgrade to a rosy pink flush came back with a vengeance, making her face look like someone had thrown red paint at her.
Sam retold her story, stammering when she came to the part about Colonel O'Neill hugging her from behind to keep anyone from seeing. She'd still gotten plenty of stares and wolfish grins, but no one had said anything when Colonel O'Neill glared at them.
"…And don't you dare start laughing!" Sam threatened when Dr. Fraiser's shoulders started shaking.
Dr. Fraiser put her hand over her mouth and said, as she closed her eyes to stop the tears of laughter, "Why didn't you just change with clothes from your pack?" Her voice shook, too, wavering from the silent laughs embedded deep in her chest.
"Because the wave took it along with the backs of my clothes," Sam said glumly.
Dr. Fraiser gave her a sympathetic smile. "Here," she said, handing Sam a couple of towels "I'll go get you some fresh clothes, and in the meantime you can take a shower as long as," she said seriously, "you don't get your neck wet."
Sam sighed gratefully. "Yes, thank you!" she said, taking the towels and heading to the infirmary shower.
Dr. Fraiser shook her head at Sam's bare, retreating back. "That'll teach her to keep her head down," she murmured, still laughing silently as she headed for the locker rooms to get Sam her clothes.
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"I swear to god," Sam said through gritted teeth as the blast doors to her lab shut behind her, "if one more person whistles at me, I'll kill them!"
A moment later, her lab doors opened again, and a certain Colonel O'Neill strutted in, his patented O'Neill smirk firmly in place. "Hey Carter," he said, a twinkle in his eye.
"Sir, I want to apologize again –"
"Carter! Enough of the apologizing, already!" he interrupted.
"Then, sir, I'd like to thank you again –"
"Carter! Enough thanking, too! Geez, you'd think I had saved your butt with the way you've been carrying on."
Sam wheeled around, glaring at her. "Sir, if all you're here to do is chastise me, please, get out of my lab!" she snapped, waving at the door.
Surprised by her tone, Colonel O'Neill replied, "Hey, who put a burr in your pants?" When she stood, fuming at him silently, not replying, he rubbed his forehead and said, "Look, Carter, it wasn't that bad."
"That's easy for you to say! …Sir," she said quietly. "Nobody's spreading rumors about you."
"They are. Why, I heard a young lieutenant whispering a rumor that you and I have been sleeping together for years. All false, of course, but do you think I like it either?"
"But no one cares about your part in the rumors," she said, eyes flashing. "I'm female so all the negative comments are hoisted at me! I've had people rumoring about me before, but nothing like this!"
"If it's any consolation, your six is," he stopped to whistle, "way hotter than they're imagining," Colonel O'Neill said before he realized what he was saying, who he was saying it about, and to whom he was saying it to.
"How dare you!" she shouted. "That's it! Where's my zat!" She stomped past him, ripping her arm free when he grasped it to hold her back.
"Carter, I'm sorry. That was –"
"Inappropriate? Thoughtless? Something only a class-A son of a bitch like you would say!" she hissed angrily. "Leave me alone, sir, before I get your ass in deep crap for harassment!"
With that, she stormed out of her lab, leaving a stunned Colonel O'Neill in her wake. When he got over his initial shock, he sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. Well, he thought bitterly to himself, she's right. You are a class-A son of a bitch, O'Neill, and you've screwed up BIG time.
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Sam had gone to Hammond and requested a week's time off, which he had eagerly granted. It was a popular sport at the SGC, to try to get Sam to take time off, and a jackpot like this only came around once in a blue moon. Still, even with this, General Hammond knew he'd never catch up to Colonel O'Neill's record.
Fuming over her CO's lack of respect, Sam drove home irritably, forcing herself to stay at the speed limit, not run over any cats, ducks, or dogs, and not run through any red lights. Somehow she managed to get home without killing anyone.
The first thing she did when she got into her house was kick off her boots, throwing her purse and cell phone somewhere, and poured herself some diet coke. Taking a few sips, she let the cool liquid bubble over her tongue and down her throat, reveling in the taste. But for comfort food, she needed chocolate.
So she ripped open a bag of Hershey's mini chocolate bars – the dark kind. For cases like this, she needed REAL chocolate – low-sugary chocolate was for light cases, milk chocolate was for heavier cases, and a combination of both was for cases that were simply pushing it.
But the special dark kind was for stuff that was beyond pushing it.
Sam took her chocolate and her diet coke into the living room, where she selected the new "Phantom of the Opera" movie that'd just come out in DVD…umm…two months ago? She winced; it appeared she'd been too busy to see it in the theaters like she'd wanted to, then was too busy when she'd bought the darn thing.
"Well, no more," she announced, and popped it in. The main menu was a collage of roses and romantic scenes. Truly beautiful, she noted, admiring it. They must have put a lot into the film. She couldn't wait; she'd been to the actual opera once, when she was about ten. Her mother had taken her. But she couldn't remember the details, so the movie should hold some delightfully unfamiliar details and scenes.
The opening was in black n' white, at some sort of auction. The man in the wheelchair had just bought the musical monkey, and the auctioneer introduced a broken chandelier! Suddenly, the screen burst alive with music and color as they played the actual story.
Sam watched the movie with surprise and happiness, the combination of dark chocolate and a seemingly magical movie having a calming effect on her. The singing was amazing and unbelievable – the actors had to have a serious set of lungs for that!
She'd gotten as far as the prima donna's rehearsal when her doorbell rang, slapping her instantly back into reality. Scowling, she growled, "Whoever's at the door better have been in a flippin' accident or so help me…!"
She yanked the door open to reveal Colonel O'Neill, still in his green uniform. "Hey, Carter," he said cautiously, eyeing her pissed expression, the bag of Hershey's bars, and hearing the opera music in the background.
"Oh. It's you."
She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the doorway.
His lips twisted into a wry smile. "Is that Phantom of the Opera?" he asked nonchalantly. "Never figured you for an opera fanatic."
Sam heaved a heated sigh and transferred her weight to both legs again, straightening, and backed up to slam the door. Before the door could lock in place, however, a certain officer's foot jammed itself in the way. Tough luck, Colonel, she thought viciously, slamming it against his foot mercilessly.
Colonel O'Neill was unharmed, and, unconcerned for his foot, he shoved his way in.
"Look, Carter…Sam…" he tried, "please. Just let me say what I came here to say. Then I'm gone."
Fuming, yet knowing it was the only way she'd get rid of him, she thrust the bag of chocolate onto the couch and leaned against the headrest of it, arms crossed again, and nodded.
"Sam, what I said was indecent and stupid, especially since I hurt someone I care about by saying it." He stepped forward, and was standing only a foot or so away from her. He reached up to caress a cheek. Sam was stunned frozen, not really wanting to hit him for it, but knowing she should. It felt so good, his warm hand on her flesh.
"Sir, please…" she whispered as her anger was replaced by incredible sadness. God, the one man she wanted…
"I need you to know why I said it," he whispered, and he leaned in and captured her lips with his own.
His kiss was intoxicating, driving all thoughts revolving around regulations out the window. His tongue circled her lips, asking entrance, and she granted it, legs turning to jelly as his tongue roamed her mouth. Her arms snaked up and around his neck, and his around her waist, drawing each other closer.
A small fire erupted in her belly and flames of desire shot through her. Sam moaned into his mouth, and he ended the kiss, pulling back to look at her.
Sam was breathing heavily. "Holy Hannah!" she breathed.
He grinned sheepishly. "About those harassment charges…?"
Sam's suspicion was immediately aroused. She frowned at him, and suddenly he realized why.
"Oh, geez! I didn't mean…god, I could kick myself right now."
"Tell me, Colonel," she said, "was that kiss just to get your ass out of the fire?"
"God, no! Sam, I kissed you because I…I love you."
Sam choked, her eyes wide. "Y-you…love me?"
He nodded, and wrapped his arms around her. She snuggled into him. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I shouldn't have accused…"
"Shh," he said. "I kind of made it sound like that, didn't I?" He squeezed her more tightly. "But you don't need to ever worry about that. I love you."
"I love you too," she whispered against his chest.
Unknown to her, a smile blossomed across his face that was equal to no other smile. Also unknown to her, he was making plans at that very moment to retire, to wine and dine her, and to sweep her off her feet, both literally and figuratively, on the dance-floor. And, eventually, ask her hand. Also also unknown to her, when he asked her for her hand, she was going to say – well, that's a story for another day.
And, she thought as she was pressed against him in one of his wonderful hugs, thinking about the last few hours, this all happened because I got half my clothes ripped off by a Stargate wave... Ha, and he said it would teach me to duck down low enough! Not!
End.
