Category: Romance, Humor, Thoughts
Seasons: Between 9 and 10.
Spoiler: Camelot (S9)
Sam cracked open an eyelid and looked around the main bedroom of this little cabin, her cyclopean gaze alighting on a sock.
A dark blue sock that was way too big to be hers.
Paired incongruously with a white cotton bra.
That was definitely hers.
She giggled softly and chose to blame it on the time she'd spent in EVA near the supergate.
"No giggling, Colonel," the true cause of her current euphoria said gruffly.
She cracked open the other eye.
And giggled again.
Cause, really, how could she take that gruffness seriously when he was lying next to her, brown eyes sleepy and hair standing up at five billion insane angles?
Oh yeah. And naked too.
"Oy!" Jack clapped a hand over his eyes and groaned. "It's a good thing you're hot, Carter."
They'd spent hours ravishing each other, and he still called her Carter. Should she be pissed? She couldn't decide.
"Sa-am; you're thinking again," the man accused.
So, he did recall her name at other times than orgasmic bliss. Good to know.
She allowed her eyes to drift downward, over the broad shoulders, strong chest and firm flanks.
Nice. Very, very nice.
And all hers.
"Samantha …".
Oooh. And now the purring of the full name. She blinked at him, distracted. She'd been thinking about … something.
"Never mind," she said, sliding her hand round his neck. "It doesn't matter."
And as their bodies melded in the throes of round four, she found she didn't mind the gravelly groan of "Carter."
After all; what was in a name?