Bed Sharing
(This one's a bit racy. You have been warned.)
He was heavier than she thought he'd be.
Not that she'd ever imagined this—being flat on her back with the Colonel lying fully on top of her. Breathing heavily, slightly sweaty, his arms bracketed around her body just as her knees gripped his thighs. His lower body—um—settled—intimately against hers. His sidearm—
Well, hell. Sam swallowed a sigh. Nope. She'd never imagined this at all.
Well, at least not exactly like this. In odd moments of weakness, she may have mused upon certain other situations that might approximate this one, but within very, very different circumstances. Circumstances that didn't involve flowers, gravel, or bushes. Or the restrictions placed on people by military ranks. Or unexpected squads of Jaffa appearing where they had no business appearing.
Sam shifted, drawing another pained near-silent groan from the Colonel. She'd just been trying to keep her legs from going numb, but all she'd managed to do was nestle his hips more firmly against her center.
"Can you stop that?" He whispered it against her ear. He'd bent his head to rest on the bed next to her temple. Skin to skin.
"I'm sorry, Sir." Sam closed her eyes, trying to lie as still as possible.
Lord, he was heavy. Solidly, wonderfully, deliciously heavy.
Don't think about it, Sam. Think about the Jaffa standing a few feet away. Think about the danger, instead. Even her internal monologue scoffed at that. Right. She was in more danger that she'd still be fantasizing about this predicament for years to come.
"I'd get off, but it's too tight in here." Another whisper. More pained, this time, his voice against her ear, his breath warm on her cheek.
Curse the double entendre. Sam bit her lips until they hurt, trying not to laugh. But damned if her body didn't betray her by trembling oh-so-gently beneath his.
Unbelievably, he snorted quietly, raising his head so that he could glare down at her. "What have I said about giggling?"
"I'm trying not to, Sir." But she just giggled more. And damned again if it didn't meld them even closer together.
His dark eyes studied her—his lips curving in approval, and maybe a hint of pride. "You have a surprisingly dirty mind, Carter."
She shifted again. On purpose this time, her knees tightening on his thighs as she lied. "I'm trying not to, Sir."
Boots scraped against the ground a few feet away, and Sam turned her head to watch as a new pair joined the others. Five Jaffa soldiers now stood just beyond the garden plot where she and the Colonel had sought cover. Five Jaffa soldiers who weren't supposed to be on this relatively peaceful planet in the middle of a solar system not frequented by the Goa'uld. Hell—the address hadn't even been on the Abydos cartouche. They must have come through the 'Gate for some reason, but neither she nor the Colonel spoke enough Goa'uld to winnow that reason out of the conversation being had just beyond their hedge.
The newcomer muttered something that made the other Jaffa laugh, and then he moved among his comrades. Sam could see just enough through the foliage above her to see him dispersing something amongst his crew. And then there were sounds of—chewing?
"What are they doing?"
Dear heaven above—what the tickle of his voice against her ear did to her insides. Sam pushed past it and forced herself to zero in on the enemy. "It looks like they're eating something."
"Un-freaking-believable." He pushed at the ground with his elbows, lifting his body just a fraction off hers—just enough that he could turn his head to see through the branches.
A movement which just redistributed pressure—um—elsewhere. Holy Hannah.
Focus, Sam. Focus on literally anything other than 'elsewhere'. Not on that, though. Don't focus on his sidearm.
Crabnabbit. Now she was thinking about his sidearm.
Sam grimaced, tilting her head back and peering through the leaves. There was a bug directly above her, scooching along a particularly thick branch. Ants made their way along another. And she was fairly certain that something was crawling up her left leg. She drew her knee upwards, hoping to swat whatever it was away with her fingertips, but the look on the Colonel's face stopped her.
Too late, she realized that the movement had made everything worse. Closer. Tighter. More—more.
"Don't." Pain. And something else—something beyond explanation passed across his features. A wry kind of acquiescence that made no sense. He lowered himself again, angling his hips just so—muttering a litany of curse words under his breath as he shifted. "Just don't."
Well, damn.
Above them, someone made a joke, and all five of the Jaffa laughed. Sam understood a few of the words—enough to know that the jest had involved a woman and her mik'ta. More laughter echoed in the garden as the soldiers joined in on the joke around bites of whatever they were eating. Near the end of one particularly humorous volley, the leader—the one who'd brought the sustenance—goodnaturedly did his 'kree' thing, indicating that break time was over. A few of the guards stepped close to where Sam and O'Neill hid and tossed wadded-up pieces of what appeared to be parchment into the hedge. Food wrappers? The bits of paper caught in the twigs above their hiding place. It looked like they were hanging in space. As the soldiers moved back to their group, their boots kicked pebbles under the bushes, stirring up the dirt enough that Sam squinched her eyes closed and tilted her head away.
And then, as if by some unspoken command, they all turned and marched off in the direction of the Stargate.
Still, the Colonel didn't move. He seemed frozen, despite the heat of the late afternoon sun and the sweat beading on his temple.
"I think we're safe." Sam wriggled just enough to get his attention, lifting her hand to tap him on his shoulder. His unit patch was rough beneath her fingers. "You can get up, now."
"I can, huh?"
"They're gone." She squinted up at him, against the light that now glared through the bramble. "So, yeah."
"Give me a minute." He sounded as if he were being strangled.
She already knew the answer to the question, but asked it anyway. Conversationally. Lightly. "Are you okay?"
"Mmm."
"Stiff?"
"What?" Annoyed and strangled. That's what his voice sounded like now.
"It's understandable if you're stiff." Sam crinkled her nose. "You know, from not moving for a while."
His dark eyes glowered down at her. He pressed his lips together before hissing at her. "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"
Sam shook her head, her eyes wide. Innocence incarnate. "Doing what?"
"Sam?" Daniel's voice broke through the foliage, concern tinging his tone. "Jack?"
O'Neill swore again. A word that might have described their positioning—if they'd been doing something other than hiding.
"Where are you concealing yourselves, Colonel O'Neill?" Teal'c had entered the garden. His footfalls sounded more heavily on the hard-packed dirt walkways. "You may emerge. The danger has passed."
"Sir?" Sam chewed on her bottom lip with her teeth. "I think that you can get out now."
"Damn it." More to himself than to her. He glared past her into the bush before scooting backwards out of their hidey-hole. Once clear, he stalked off to the edge of the formal gardens. Daniel moved towards him, but O'Neill waved him off, muttering something about needing to work out some kinks.
Sam scooched on her butt until she'd exited the hedge, then stood. Brushing dirt and dead leaves off her butt and thighs, she hazarded a glance at Daniel. Of course, his keen blue eyes gleamed back at her with a hefty amount of rank speculation.
"So?" The corner of his mouth jerked upwards. "What were you two doing in there?"
"We were heading back to the Governor's Chamber when we heard the 'Gate engage." Shrugging out of her overshirt, Sam shook the dirt off the back of it. "At first, we thought it was SG-14 coming back with the medicine we'd promised as part of the negotiations, but then we realized that it was a squad of Jaffa."
"We saw them as they marched to the town square." Teal'c tilted his head in his Teal'c-ish way. "Governor Johntu assured us that the Jaffa come here only to purchase goods from vendors in the marketplace."
Daniel shrugged, casting a look over at where Jack was still pacing several yards away. "Apparently, they've negotiated conditions so that the Goa'uld don't threaten this planet in exchange for freedom to participate in trade here."
Satisfied she'd gotten all of the guck off her clothing, Sam tucked the blouse over her forearm and reached for her pack. "So that was just a lunch run."
"An intergalactic pit stop." Daniel grinned. "Still, we didn't engage with them. We were pretty concerned that the two of you were out in the open without any weapons or communications equipment. Teal'c and I came as soon as we could get out of the Chamber in case you needed help."
"We didn't have time to run." Sam indicated the bushes with a nod. "We dove in there as soon as we saw the Jaffa. It was literally the only bed in here with plant life large enough to hide in."
"And even then—it was only just barely big enough to hide the both of us." O'Neill had made his way back towards his crew. He took his pack and weapon from Teal'c, hefting it over one shoulder and clipping the P-90 to his vest.
Daniel leaned over to peer down into the bush. "That must have been a tight fit. You had to have been packed in there like sardines."
"Pretty much."
"Hey, Jack." Daniel reached into his own pack and withdrew a large, heavy object. Extending it towards the Colonel, he smiled. "I've got your Beretta. You left it in the Ombudsman's lockers with your P-90."
Sam looked up just in time to see the Colonel flicker a look at her. She watched as he strapped the weapon to his thigh.
"Well, anyway." Daniel stuck his hands into his pockets. "The talks are done for the day. We're supposed to come back the day after tomorrow to continue the negotiations."
"Thursday." Jack nodded. "So, I guess we should head on home."
"Guess so." Daniel turned on his heel and, falling in step with Teal'c, headed in the direction of the 'Gate.
"C'mon, Carter." O'Neill tugged his cap out of the side pocket of his pack and pulled it low over his brow. "Let's blow this joint."
But Sam was slowly turning, taking in the gardens, and the double moons that were just barely breaching the horizon, and the way the light was changing in the private alcove. "It's pretty here. We don't usually see formal landscaping like this."
"I wish they'd planted bigger plants. It's kind of hard to hide behind a begonia."
"Depends on the size of the begonia." Sam lifted a shoulder. "Doesn't it?"
O'Neill narrowed a look at her. "What are you getting at?"
"Nothing." She stepped closer to him, smoothing the fabric of the blouse on her arm. Quirking a brow upwards, she flickered a glance down towards the Beretta holstered on his thigh. "I just hadn't realized that you'd left your sidearm in the Chamber lockers."
"The ombudsguy seemed pretty emphatic about their 'no guns' policy." His brows rose, and he rested a hand on his P-90. "And?"
"And I thought that you might have been wearing it while we were—" she glanced pointedly at the bush they'd so recently vacated.
It took him a minute. When he'd caught up to her train of thought, he groaned. "While we were being sardines?"
She simply smiled, leaning close as she caught his gaze. "Some begonias are easier to hide behind than others."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Not much." Shaking her head, she ran her fingers through her hair, dislodging more dirt and a few twigs. "Just making conversation about your begonia. And how nicely it blossoms."
His answering grin was a slow, easy thing. "You have a remarkably dirty mind, Major."
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Colonel." She nudged him with her shoulder.
He nudged her back. "We'd better go before Daniel comes back to find us again."
"Yes. Well, at least we know that both of us do, indeed, fit in one of these flower beds."
"You're impossible."
She chuckled, falling into step beside him. They walked in companionable silence until they'd reached the 'Gate.
Daniel had already dialed home, and the event horizon shimmered within the naquadah ring. Jack stopped next to the DHD, watching as Daniel and Teal'c ascended the platform and stepped through the pool.
"About that, Sir."
"About what?"
"The flower bed thing."
"Yeah?"
Sam reached out and picked a bit of schmutz off his uniform, taking her time brushing dust off his chest and shoulder. "The next time we share a bed—"
O'Neill's eyes flew wide, and a single dimple flashed in his cheek. "The next time?"
"I'm just saying." She found more dust on his chin, and swiped at still more on his throat, taking her time with the chore. His skin was warm beneath her fingers. She smiled as his breathing hitched a little. "The next time we're in a bed together—"
"Yeah?" He was back to sounding strangled. His voice actually cracked.
Sam leaned in close, pressing her body against his just—that—much. "I get to be on top."