[Stargate: Drabble] "Office of the President" [Sam/Jack, G]
Title: Office of the President
Author: Ami Ven
Prompt: writerverse phase 21, challenge, prompt 18 ‘office of the president’
Word Count: 862
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Pairings: Sam Carter/Jack O’Neill
Setting: part of my Atlantis John/Rodney AU Home on the Range ‘verse
Summary: “I’m General Jack O’Neill, president of Carter Railroad.”
Office of the President
“I wish you didn’t have to do this,” said Jack.
He leaned on the edge of the heavy oak desk, watching his wife fix her hair in the small hanging mirror. She was a beautiful woman, with the pale skin, light hair, and curving figure that were currently fashionable. Her clothes were fashionable, too, with a wide bustled skirt and buttoned collar. Her hair was kept up with jeweled pins, which showed off the long curve of her neck - and the smear of grease behind her left ear.
Jack smiled. “You missed a spot.”
Sam turned from the mirror, then back again. “Where?”
“Let me,” he said.
The wet rag she’d used to clean up the worst of the mess was still sitting on the sideboard and he picked it up, finding a clean corner to use. He stood a little closer than was strictly necessary, but Sam leaned into his touch, smiling.
“I know you’d rather spend all of your time fishing, but society demands a bit of our time if we want to keep our wealthy clientele.”
“Your clientele, Carter,” said Jack. “Your company. I meant that I wish we didn’t have to pretend I even did anything to help, let alone run this joint.”
“You do help,” she protested, but he waved a dismissive hand.
“I’m happy to support you, Carter, you know that. But I hate these meetings where I have to be polite to all these… pompous idiots who can’t accept that a woman designed these engines, and I have to keep my mouth shut about what an incredible genius my wife is.”
Sam kissed him, gently, hardly having to lean up to do so - by current fashion, she was considered too tall, but he loved that it was so easy to look her in the eye, that he didn’t have to bend to kiss her back.
“I know,” she said, “But you really are becoming a fantastic actor. And perhaps I can reward you later?”
That smile had always been trouble, even back when he had been a colonel in the Union Army and she had been a young captain claiming that ‘Sam’ was short for ‘Samuel’.
Sam fastened her hat with a larger jeweled pin than the ones in her hair and shook out her skirts to remove any lingering wrinkles. Her heels clicked lightly on the hardwood floor, as she took tiny ladylike steps to the other side of the office. Mrs. Jonathan O’Neill was the perfect society lady, well-bred, well-dressed and well-behaved.
Jack wasn’t sure he liked her much.
He’d fallen in love with Sam, who could fix anything she got her hands on, who argued philosophy with Daniel around their campfire, who taught Teal’c how to read and forged papers for the runaway slave to join their unit. Who had nearly bled out in his arms, refusing to be taken to the Army hospital so she could keep her secret and continue fighting.
Not that he hadn’t already known - she was tougher than any soldier in either army, but she was definitely all woman.
“Good afternoon, General O’Neill, Major Carter,” said their secretary, knocking lightly on the open doorframe. Harriman had been a sergeant with them during the war, and he stubbornly still used Sam’s rank. “Shall I make some coffee for your meeting?”
“Yes, please,” said Jack. “They here yet?”
“Yes, sir,” said Harriman.
“Show them in, sergeant,” said Sam. She took a deep breath, adjusted her hair one last time, and pushed Jack toward the desk. “And you, show time.”
Jack squared his shoulder, as the door opened and Harriman announced their guests. “Welcome,” he said. “I’m General Jack O’Neill, president of Carter Railroad. Can I offer you some coffee before we get down to business…?”
*
Jack closed the door with slightly more force than was necessary. This client wasn’t as bad as some - he didn’t object to Sam staying to ‘play hostess’ or blatantly ignore her when she oh-so-innocently brought up something Jack had forgotten - but Jack still thought ‘not as bad’ was far, far below what Sam deserved.
When he turned back around, she had already disappeared behind the decorative wooden screen in the corner of the office. Jack could hear the clink as her hairpins were tossed onto the cabinet, then the rustle of her dress, just before she tossed it over the top of the screen. A moment later, she came out again, wearing an oversized coverall and tying up her hair under a kerchief.
Jack smiled, hands reaching for her hips to pull her closer. “There you are,” he said, smile brightening when she moved eagerly into his touch. “I was starting to get creeped out by Mrs. O’Neill.”
She gave a decidedly unladylike snort. “Imagine how I feel being her.”
“That’s as much of an act as what I just did,” he said, thumbs running over the silk of her bodice. “So that reward you mentioned earlier? Let’s ditch the acts - and the costumes.”
Sam laughed. “Tonight, I promise. But I do have a bit more work to finish on that new engine this afternoon. Coming?”
“To watch you work?” said Jack. “Always.”
THE END
Current Mood:
Busy
Author: Ami Ven
Prompt: writerverse phase 21, challenge, prompt 18 ‘office of the president’
Word Count: 862
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Pairings: Sam Carter/Jack O’Neill
Setting: part of my Atlantis John/Rodney AU Home on the Range ‘verse
Summary: “I’m General Jack O’Neill, president of Carter Railroad.”
Office of the President
“I wish you didn’t have to do this,” said Jack.
He leaned on the edge of the heavy oak desk, watching his wife fix her hair in the small hanging mirror. She was a beautiful woman, with the pale skin, light hair, and curving figure that were currently fashionable. Her clothes were fashionable, too, with a wide bustled skirt and buttoned collar. Her hair was kept up with jeweled pins, which showed off the long curve of her neck - and the smear of grease behind her left ear.
Jack smiled. “You missed a spot.”
Sam turned from the mirror, then back again. “Where?”
“Let me,” he said.
The wet rag she’d used to clean up the worst of the mess was still sitting on the sideboard and he picked it up, finding a clean corner to use. He stood a little closer than was strictly necessary, but Sam leaned into his touch, smiling.
“I know you’d rather spend all of your time fishing, but society demands a bit of our time if we want to keep our wealthy clientele.”
“Your clientele, Carter,” said Jack. “Your company. I meant that I wish we didn’t have to pretend I even did anything to help, let alone run this joint.”
“You do help,” she protested, but he waved a dismissive hand.
“I’m happy to support you, Carter, you know that. But I hate these meetings where I have to be polite to all these… pompous idiots who can’t accept that a woman designed these engines, and I have to keep my mouth shut about what an incredible genius my wife is.”
Sam kissed him, gently, hardly having to lean up to do so - by current fashion, she was considered too tall, but he loved that it was so easy to look her in the eye, that he didn’t have to bend to kiss her back.
“I know,” she said, “But you really are becoming a fantastic actor. And perhaps I can reward you later?”
That smile had always been trouble, even back when he had been a colonel in the Union Army and she had been a young captain claiming that ‘Sam’ was short for ‘Samuel’.
Sam fastened her hat with a larger jeweled pin than the ones in her hair and shook out her skirts to remove any lingering wrinkles. Her heels clicked lightly on the hardwood floor, as she took tiny ladylike steps to the other side of the office. Mrs. Jonathan O’Neill was the perfect society lady, well-bred, well-dressed and well-behaved.
Jack wasn’t sure he liked her much.
He’d fallen in love with Sam, who could fix anything she got her hands on, who argued philosophy with Daniel around their campfire, who taught Teal’c how to read and forged papers for the runaway slave to join their unit. Who had nearly bled out in his arms, refusing to be taken to the Army hospital so she could keep her secret and continue fighting.
Not that he hadn’t already known - she was tougher than any soldier in either army, but she was definitely all woman.
“Good afternoon, General O’Neill, Major Carter,” said their secretary, knocking lightly on the open doorframe. Harriman had been a sergeant with them during the war, and he stubbornly still used Sam’s rank. “Shall I make some coffee for your meeting?”
“Yes, please,” said Jack. “They here yet?”
“Yes, sir,” said Harriman.
“Show them in, sergeant,” said Sam. She took a deep breath, adjusted her hair one last time, and pushed Jack toward the desk. “And you, show time.”
Jack squared his shoulder, as the door opened and Harriman announced their guests. “Welcome,” he said. “I’m General Jack O’Neill, president of Carter Railroad. Can I offer you some coffee before we get down to business…?”
*
Jack closed the door with slightly more force than was necessary. This client wasn’t as bad as some - he didn’t object to Sam staying to ‘play hostess’ or blatantly ignore her when she oh-so-innocently brought up something Jack had forgotten - but Jack still thought ‘not as bad’ was far, far below what Sam deserved.
When he turned back around, she had already disappeared behind the decorative wooden screen in the corner of the office. Jack could hear the clink as her hairpins were tossed onto the cabinet, then the rustle of her dress, just before she tossed it over the top of the screen. A moment later, she came out again, wearing an oversized coverall and tying up her hair under a kerchief.
Jack smiled, hands reaching for her hips to pull her closer. “There you are,” he said, smile brightening when she moved eagerly into his touch. “I was starting to get creeped out by Mrs. O’Neill.”
She gave a decidedly unladylike snort. “Imagine how I feel being her.”
“That’s as much of an act as what I just did,” he said, thumbs running over the silk of her bodice. “So that reward you mentioned earlier? Let’s ditch the acts - and the costumes.”
Sam laughed. “Tonight, I promise. But I do have a bit more work to finish on that new engine this afternoon. Coming?”
“To watch you work?” said Jack. “Always.”
THE END
Current Mood:
Busy