Circle training
Missing scene for "Full Circle"
This program keeps taking. First Kawalski. Then Daniel. Now Ska'ra. For every syllable of the friends Jack has lost, he blows a punch into the sandbag.
Ka-wal-ski, Dan-iel, Ska-ra.
Over and over, his fists drum this rhythm of loss while his heart hammers in different beat—one of hate and defeat. Those Goa'Ulds are getting more and more evil. Stronger and stronger. He feels trapped in a video game where his enemies level up, but he doesn't, so he keeps fighting towards meeting the end boss just without the chance of ever beating him. With a powerful hit, he sends the sandbag flying, and when it swings back holds onto it before it knocks him over. His chest is heaving more from pain and anger than from exhaustion. Then suddenly there's a hand on his. When he looks up, there stands the most important thing this program has given him: Carter. She's wearing her workout clothes and a sad smile. She squeezes his hand, then let's go and holds the sandbag steady, giving him an encouraging nod. There's no need to say anything, and yet he knows why she's here. To look out for him—this time he doesn't mind. While Carter holds the bag, he goes at it. Allows himself to lose it in front of her. His knuckles hurt, but it doesn't matter. Only when a blow of air escapes Carter after he smashes the bag with all his strength, he stops and looks at her again. A wicked shadow overcasts her face, and suddenly she pushes the bag back to him, so it hits his chest and knocks the air out of his lungs—god that feels good. Her eyes hook his for a dangerous duel, and before he can process what he's reading on her face before he can understand her anger and impuissance, she jumps at him and wrestles him down in one forceful move. The moment he hits the mat with her body on top of him, her elbow pressing textbook-like into his throat, he feels his frustration leave his body. Carter's lips are hazardously close, but before the moment turns into a moment, he grabs her and swirls her around, so he's on top. But Carter wouldn't be Carter if she just let him turn her. She fights back, and suddenly they are in a real hand-to-hand combat. Jack doesn't think that this is his teammate. Not that this is Carter. Not that she is a woman. Not that he actually wants to intertwine his body with hers for more enjoyable pleasures. Instead, with every move, with every punch, every time they land on the mat, more anger is set free. She is quick and playful when she dodges his moves, strong and violent when she attacks. He's not holding back, and yet he finds himself struggling to overpower her. Over and over, she wiggles out of his hold, and their dance starts all over. If his brain would be functioning, he would proudly notice what skillful 2IC he had. Scratch that. If his brain were working, he would stop pressing her arms down and his body on top of hers. He would not nail her onto the mat and find himself squeezed between her legs only inches between his lips and hers. Their breath is pounding, their chests bump into each other, and suddenly, every part of his body is on fire.
Fuck.
Jack rolls of Carter and falls onto the mat, starring onto the ceiling. They lie next to each other without saying a word. A million thoughts want to rush through his brain, but he's become quite good at stopping them. Especially today is not a good day to think about this mess he's gotten himself in. When he finally manages his head to be quiet, he allows himself to look over only to find Carter looking at him with a cute flush on her cheeks.
"I guess I finally took you up on that arm-wrestling challenge," Jack says, and Carter replies with a smile. She pushes herself up and offers him a hand. While she pulls him up to his feet, she casually says, "There are bets on it. I'm not going to arm wrestle you when no one is watching."
"Bets? There are bets on us?"
"Goodnight, Sir."
Carter taps the sandbag, smiles at him, and is about to leave the gym.
"In whose favor?" he yells after her.
She stops, turns around for another challenging grin, then she's gone.
Thanks for all the comments and for going with me on this journey. As always: comments keep me writing.