Hello & good morning, fellow Pete whumpers! I hope you're all buckled in, 'cos this roller coaster might get a little crazy!
Hope you like! Keep those reviews pouring in!
Ari. R.
Mornings and Love, part 5
Sam awoke to the evil alarm clock's intolerable honking at five in the morning. Sitting up with a growl, she swung her fist out to smash it off, but hesitated when an unexpected thought surfaced to mind:
That sounds like Pete.
Suddenly, what had pushed exactly all the right buttons to tick her off, was now hilarious!
Pete! Honk honk honk!
She imagined that sneering face from the other night, but instead of those hateful words, all he could manage was, "Honk, honk, honk!"
What started out as a giggle turned into a body-wracking, heavy laughter! Sam cradled her stomach as she collapsed into a fit of laughter on the pillows.
Pete honking the Pledge of Allegiance!
Pete honking the national anthem!
Pete honking "Old McDonald Had a Farm"!
It took a good twenty minutes before her laughter finally died with a couple of giggles. Sam looked around her room appreciatively. It looked so bright and warming, like all the gods – both fake and divine – were smiling down on her. She couldn't believe it'd felt so unwelcoming, unsafe the previous night.
The previous night. Pete. No Pete. Jack. No Jack.
Sighing, her smile slipped from her face. "It's official: I'm hopeless."
Sadly, and happily, she stripped for a shower. The hot water running over her naked flesh felt so, so, so good that she wished this could be one of those showers where she stayed under the waterfall of bliss until the water ran cold.
Unfortunately, according to those things called "bills", and the little thing called "job", and not to mention "save the world", this would not be one of those mornings.
Still, determined to salvage what was left of the excellent mood she awoke to, she beamed brightly and decided to eat breakfast at home for once. If anything could damage a good mood, it was not having food, and if she tried to have breakfast at the base, something was sure to demand her attention.
"Today, I don't care if it's fixing a light bulb or the naquadah reactor that Siler needs my help for. I am going to sit here and eat my breakfast at home like normal people do," Sam said decisively. Fixing a few eggs, toast, and pouring herself some orange juice, she sat at the kitchen counter and grabbed the remote for the TV. Switching it on from afar, she settled with watching a teeny, tiny view. She wanted to just be lazy this morning, even if it meant she didn't walk seven yards to the couch.
Quickly changing the channel in disgust, Sam easily avoided the news channels. They absolutely drove her crazy. How could anyone honestly worry about some master thief or neighborhood punks or some celebrity's sixth divorce and seventh marriage when she and just one military base were working their asses off to make sure the whole damned world wasn't blown to oblivion?
Today was definitely not a news-watching day. The news was both depressing and infuriating, two things she was set and determined to avoid.
Finding a Peanuts cartoon pleased her immensely! She absolutely, positively, adored Snoopy! Grinning and feeling more at ease than she had in – in – in…when? – she watched the playful antics of Snoopy and Woodstock. They never ceased to amaze her. Poor Snoopy got his nose banged! Aww. Poor Woodstock got sat on! Aww. And they both get into a sizzling frenzy of yapping and tweeting, then make up and hug – AWW.
She so loved Peanuts cartoons.
Sam pulled into the SGC parking lot, whistling to the tune of Martina McBride. Country wasn't usually her cup of tea, but who wouldn't get caught up in the cheerful beat of "This One's For the Girls"?
Tapping the steering wheel to the last few tunes to the snazzy song, she shut off the motor and hopped out, laptop bag in tow.
"Good morning, sergeant, how are you?" she happily asked the guards at check-in as she flashed her ID.
"Uh, good morning, Ma'am, I'm fine, thank you," the sergeant replied, surprised.
"Good. Have a good one, then!" she said as she walked down to the elevators. There was a definite spring in her step.
The elevator stopped short. The doors slid back to reveal a very preoccupied Daniel Jackson, his nose in a book and an artifact in hand. He looked up briefly as he stepped in, giving her an unceremonious, "Hey…Sam…" as his eyes were irresistibly drawn back to his translations.
Daniel's disregard of her didn't bother her in the least. "Hey Daniel," she said brightly. "Sleep well?"
"Uhh…huh? …oh, yeah. I mean, yes, I did…" his words trailed off as he got lost in his own little world of translating heaven.
Sam's grin grew even bigger. Little brother Daniel. "Hey, what'cha working on?" she said, genuinely interested.
He looked up disbelievingly, but grinned too. "Oh, it's really fascinating!" he said enthusiastically. "It's a tablet that seems to have hieroglyphics that are a cross between Mayan and Mesopotamian."
"Show me?" she inquired.
Beaming ever more brightly, Daniel pointed at the tidbits of words and sentences he'd translated, beginning in order, up to down, right to left.
"Wow, that's pretty cool, Daniel," Sam said as the elevator stopped again.
"What is?"
Oh boy…here we go again, Sam thought to her conscience. In return, she received a small rush of assurance. She could do this, right?
Wrong. Jack's smile was curious, his eyes twinkling, and his hands were fiddling with each other. Like nothing had happened last night. Like it was all normal. Typical.
"Oh, Jack! I was just telling Sam about this tablet – look, it's a cross between Mayan and Mesopotamian, and –!"
"Daniel!" Jack said in a warning and playful tone as he stepped in. The doors closed, trapping them. Damn, my last chance to escape, gone.
Daniel frowned. "Well San thought it was cool," he said irritably, shoving his glasses back up his nose and his nose back in his book.
For some unknown reason, this amused Jack O'Neill. He threw his head back and howled with laughter.
For obvious reasons, this irked both Sam and Daniel. But mostly Sam.
"Hey, she's a wonderfully open-minded person," Daniel insisted, "which is a nice change from you!"
With that, he slammed his book closed and stomped out of the elevator, which had conveniently stopped and opened for him at that precise moment. Please, take me with you, her mind begged. No dice; the doors closed agonizingly slow. Damn, she thought miserably. Geez, I can't ever swear without sounding pathetic, not even in my own head!
Jack's laughter died down…eventually. Still, he chuckled to himself, as though reliving the moment.
"So…" he said, "think he'll forgive me if I bring him coffee?"
He was looking at her, but she kept her gaze steely on the doors, knowing that the minute they opened even an inch, she was OUT of there. Sam was not going to play his game.
"He's probably trying to figure out why you found it so funny that I might actually share his interest," she said coolly. As am I…
Jack frowned. "Oh, c'mon Carter, it's not your…your thing! You spit out scientific babble and Daniel spits out rock babble."
"Artifacts," she mumbled, correcting him for Daniel since the poor archeologist couldn't do it himself.
Jack watched her for a moment. The elevator slowed to a stop as he said, "Look, Carter…Sam…"
A flash of anger sizzled her. "Excuse me, sir," she said with a snarl, still looking directly at the opening doors, "but I have work to do. I'll talk to you later." Like next century.
Part of her felt guilty for storming off, leaving him like that, and it teamed up with the part of her that wanted desperately just to drag him into a closet. In all, her angry, sensible side was thoroughly outnumbered, but it was strong in its defense. Sam stomped to her lab, hoping she could team her sensibility with science so weakness wouldn't override her.
Soon she was blissfully as blissfully lost in her passion as Daniel was in his. Sam watched excitedly through a microscope, ticking off tidbits of information to write down a moment later.
"Wow…they look like they're…mating," she murmured as she watched the bacteria. She spotted two subjects, one red, one brown. They joined for a moment, then separated, and a few minutes later, the brown one grew significantly larger. Ten minutes later, two new bacteria emerged from the brown: one brown, one red.
Sam pulled away from the microscope, the skin around her eyes raw from the prolonged contact. Too interested to care, she scribbled down her observations and went back to the microscope, ignoring the complaints her eyes and skin were giving her about it.
"How can you stand it? Just standing there, neck bent to look through a magnifying glass to see little things that don't matter?"
Sam jumped, her flesh ripping from the microscope painfully. Grimacing, she turned to glare at him. She tore off her white, plastic gloves and said, "Sir, if all you came here for was to criticize me and my work, please leave. Now." Her arm was thrust in the general direction of the door.
This time, she made eye contact and held it. She was surprised by the sadness in his eyes.
"Sam," he whispered, "please. Let me in."
He didn't just mean the lab, though she did motion that he could enter, sighing as she did. She sat on the stool, feeling and probably looking very defeated.
"Sam…"
The lights flickered off and the door was quietly shut. It was awfully dark, and she heard him move, and the next minute, her radio was bursting with a classical symphony.
Suddenly his arms were around her, and his breath tickled her ear. She sat still, frozen, not quite willing to give in and not quite willing to let go.
"I'm sorry, Sam, so sorry."
"For which part!" she snapped, immediately kicking herself for lashing out when he was trying to be nice.
"For being an ass? For laughing at you in the elevator for liking Daniel's rocks? For leaving when I should have been there for you?" he said.
Sam exhaled deeply. "I know," she whispered, "me too."
"No." Jack spun her around in her stool to face him, even though they could barely see each other, and he cupped her face. "You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for."
As if to prove his point, he kissed her lips softly, then less hesitantly he teased them apart.
God, his kisses were intoxicating! Sam moaned into his mouth and responded feverishly, seeking entrance. He complied, then took back control, tongue happily exploring her mouth.
Mmm…Janet would flip if I told her about this.
Janet.
The SGC's CMO.
Lab…
SGC.
On base.
REGULATIONS!
Sam squealed and pushed him away, effectively ending the kiss. "No, sir, please don't!" she begged, tears starting to form in her eyes.
Silence.
"Sir?"
Finally, he replied, "Sorry, Major. It won't happen again."
The familiar sound of fading footsteps greeted her as Jack O'Neill walked out on her again. Except, this time it was her fault.