Alternatives

Chapter V: Redecorating

Based upon Stargate: SG-1

Rating: PG-T

- RMI - Based on the Season 4 episode: "Upgrades" and (to a lesser extent) the Season 8 episode "Moebius"; takes place during "Upgrades" ; takes place in an alternate reality in which Jack O'Neill is not an officer in the Air Force, but an enlisted Airman, and where Samantha Carter is similar to the Carter defined in the alternate reality of the episodes "Moebius" parts I and II -

- . - - - . -

First Sergeant Jack O'Neill examined the alien thingy on his wrist. He felt awesome.

Major Jackson had already developed some freaky abilities -- speed, strength, and he could read really fast. While he hadn't really noticed anything like that, he did notice that he was a little more hungry than usual.

Sam had been a little worried about putting the thing on, constantly reminding them that she was just an astrophysicist. He remembered her tell him that she was shocked that they gave her a gun when they went off world.

"I don't like guns," she had told him once.

"Me neither." He had answered flippantly, "How do you feel about explosives?"

"Those I like a little better."

She was even more blown away that they let her go off world in the first place.

She wasn't exactly the military type.

Her last job had been reading other people's reports for the Department of Aerospace before they went to the director.

He often imagined her then. His nerdy little Carter sitting behind a desk covered in manila envelopes and loose sheets of paper. With those thick black glasses that were so sexy. And a slightly oversized sweater and a skirt that disguised her hot body.

All the other nerdy scientists simply ignoring her, seeing right through her. And her, just waiting for someone to come find her; someone to see how smart she was, how funny she was, how smoking hot she was.

He was glad that someone was him.

He looked up when he heard someone enter the room. It was his sexy little scientist and Major Jackson.

Jackson and Sam sat down on the other side of the briefing table. He watched Sam sit down and wondered why she wasn't wearing her glasses.

Moments later they were joined by Teal'c. General West, Doctor Fraiser, and the Tok'ra arrived moments after that. Both he and Jackson jumped to their feet upon the entrance of the General.

"As you were," he said, taking his own seat.

"SG-1 seems to reacting to the armbands well," the Tok'ra explained. "Major Jackson has already exhibited an incredible increase in both physical and mental abilities. Doctor Carter has also shown remarkable positive physical side effects; most notably, her eyesight."

That explained it.

"I have not yet been able to examine Sergeant O'Neill, however, if he is reacting in a similar manner to the rest of SG-1, he probably is experiencing similar affects."

"Sir," Jackson turned to General West. "Permission to return SG-1 to active duty.'

The General shook his head. "I don't think I'm quite ready to do that, Major. We still don't know if there are going to be any negative effects from these armbands. I want you all to stay here on base while Doctor Fraiser gets a handle on this."

"With all due respect, Sir," Jack said, "I feel great. Hungry, but great."

Major Jackson made a guttural sound. "I'm hungry, too."

"Your bodies are craving more fuel to replace what you're burning so quickly," Doctor Fraiser explained.

"Permission to go to lunch, Sir," Jackson asked.

General West raised his eyebrow. "Can you, at least, wait for the end of this meeting?"

Jackson nodded. "Yes, Sir."

- . - . -

Jack, Sam, Teal'c, and Major Jackson sat at one of the tables in the commissary, enjoying a large lunch.

"Ya know what's weird?" Jackson asked.

They all looked up. "What?" Sam asked.

"Anise . . . came on to me today."

Everyone one silent, and Sam dropped her eyes to her plate, suddenly feeling out of place.

"She is an attractive woman," Teal'c said at length.

Jackson chuckled. "Oh that's not the problem." He took a bite of his sandwich. "It's just that with all this super strength, I wouldn't want to hurt her. Now, if she had one of these things on, too," he chuckled again.

Jack and Sam's eyes drifted towards each other, thinking the exact same thing.

"I think I left . . . some of my . . . data at home." Her words dripped from her mouth like a leaky faucet.

"And, I think I . . . left the grill on," Jack said, matching her speech pattern.

The Major regarded Jack incredulously. "You had the grill on this morning, Sergeant?"

Before Jack could think up a plausible answer, Sam spoke. "For breakfast, we had steak and eggs. He made the steak."

"And she made the eggs," he offered.

The Major kept his eyes on Jack. "Let's have a word, Sergeant." Jack followed him out of the room. "The grill's not on, is it?"

"Umm, no, Sir."

Major Jackson simply nodded. "Go on, O'Neill," he said, motioning broadly towards the door. "And, Sergeant!" he called, stopping Jack at the door. "Drive safe. Don't speed. Both hands on the wheel."

"Aye, Sir," Jack responded before turning again and nearly running to get Sam and get to their truck.

- . - . -

He did speed on the way home. Not too fast, but fast enough that he could have gotten a hefty ticket. He and Sam jumped out of the truck and were careful to shut the doors so they wouldn't break under their new found strength.

Jack followed Sam into the house, once again being careful with the door behind him. He followed her down the hall to the bed room and enveloped her in his arms.

He couldn't decide whether he liked her better with or without glasses. Because, and he was being completely honest, those glasses were sexy; but the uninhibited view of her eyes boring into him was intoxicating.

Within seconds, it didn't matter; he couldn't see her eyes anymore, his lips buried in her neck.

He felt her hands snake down his body and grab his belt. She gave it a light tug and they both froze when they heard it snap. She took a step back, the broken belt in her hand. The buckle was bent and the fabric had snapped like it was . . . something that snapped easily.

Sam swallowed hard. "Holy Hannah."

"Oh, hot damn," Jack breathed.

Both of their eyes were locked on her hands and the broken belt between them. Slowly, their gazes lifted and their eyes met, thinking the exact same thing.

"You're not sentimentally attached to that outfit, are you?" he asked.

She looked at herself, a very plain skirt and button down shirt. She shook her head, eyes wide.

A thick grin spread across his face as he grabbed her, maybe a little harder than he should have, but he didn't care. Hell, he hardly even noticed. He attacked her collar bone again, pausing only to grip her shirt collar in his teeth, ripping it from her skin, sending the shirt to pieces.

She let loose a small giggle and grabbed his neckline and yanked down, tearing his skivvy shirt open down the center.

Jack never wanted to take that armband off.

Ever.

- . - . -

Sam lay sprawled over Jack's chest, covered in what was left of their sheets and their bedspread, on top of their bed -- which had a frame now broken in several places.

"Whoa," he said.

She nodded.

"That was awesome."

"Yeah," she replied, her slightly nervous voice deep in her throat.

She never would have thought that in a million years she would break a bed in such a fashion. She also never thought that she would have found someone like Jack O'Neill to break it with. Come on, she was just about the biggest nerd . . . on the planet.

Before Jack, the last guy who had his eye on her was Rodney McKay. She was pretty sure that he described her as a "sexy librarian."

She had scoffed at the description. She was much smarter than a librarian. She was an astrophysicist, damn it!

That was another thing she couldn't believe: her use of profanity. She knew she had gotten that from Jack.

Her attention turned back to her husband when he grabbed her hip and pulled her on top of him.

"We're gonna need new sheets," she said, confusing him for a second. She loved his confused face.

"And a new bed," he answered, catching on, and running his hands up her sides.

She looked up towards the headboard, which was cracked, and noticed the wall behind it. The drywall was broken, she hadn't even noticed that before. "And a new wall," she said before leaning down to him and placing a kiss on his lips.

Jack's eyes followed hers and saw the damage. "Looks like we're gonna have to do some redecorating."

She giggled and ran her finger down his chest. "Yeah."

"What do you think about the color peridot?"

"What do you think about steak?" she asked.

"In our bedroom?"

She shook her head. "No, right now."

A light growl came from his throat. "Yeah, let's have some steak."

Sam rolled off him and went to the dresser in search of clothing not in shreds. She let out moan when he wrapped his arms around her waist, settling his hands on her thighs and tucking his chin to her neck. "Then I was thinking about having some wife."

She moaned again and stretched her neck against his lips. "That sounds nice."

"Ya know," he said, "if I have to live with broken furniture for the rest of my life, these things are totally worth it."

She turned enough so he could see her glaring at him.

"Umm," he tried to cover. "It's not that things weren't good before. Things were great before. I mean, you're hot."

She held her ground, even though she was just joking with him. She loved to throw him through a loop and make him as nervous as she has been around him at first. She remembered the first time he called her hot -- she had almost choked.

"And smart. Really, really smart. Smokin' hot and crazy smart." He coughed. "Things are just . . ." he jerked his head in the direction of their broken bed, "just . . . wow."

She smiled and kissed his cheek. "No, you're right, things are kind of awesome."

Another growl came from him, but this one was involuntary. "Let's have those steaks," he replied.

- . - - - . -