La Traviata (Sam/Jack Fic)
Sam leaned back onto the luxuriously soft Connolly leather of the limousine seat and tipped back the last dregs of the glass of champagne with a sigh.
“Top up?” Jack drawled with a faint smirk of amusement across his face as he held up the bottle to her.
She felt giddy already. Champagne on an empty stomach; it must be something to do with those bubbles. “I shouldn’t… but…” She held the glass out and let him pour. The blacked out windows softened the glare of the night life of Washington as it flashed by outside. “Thank you.” She said and took another sip, snorting a little as the bubbles tickled her nose and then giggling slightly at the sound she’d made.
He rolled his eyes. “Drunk already.”
She leaned into him and laughed, “Well it’s not often a girl gets to enjoy a champagne limo ride as part of her date.” The playfulness in her tone evident.
He shrugged in his usual self effacing way, “Well, when I hired the car it was only a few dollars more for the booze as part of the package so I thought, what the hey.”
“Yes, I’m sure you did.” She sighed, knowing it was probably a lot more than that given the expensive brand of champagne they were drinking. She knew he was up to something and suspected she knew what it was; it was one of the main reasons she was happy to let the alcohol flow because, if she was right, a little something to calm her nerves would be just what she needed. She looked over at him in his tuxedo and bow tie and suddenly felt very grateful that he wasn’t in service dress tonight; she didn’t know if she’d be able to completely relax if he’d worn them. When he said it was a dress up event he obviously wasn’t kidding and her simple invite which suggested she “dress like you’re going to the Oscars” had completely intrigued her.
“What?” He asked with a curious but happy smile on his face as he watched her watching him.
She dipped her head, caught out and then shook it slightly. “Nothing.”
“No, what?” He asked with a frown but there was still humour in his eyes.
She conceded, “I was just thinking, this is so not us.” She gestured at her dress, his tuxedo, the car and champagne in general. “Unless living here has turned you into some kind of metropolitan softie.” She added with a wicked grin.
He raised his eyebrows in admonishment, “I shall enjoy disproving that next time we’re at the cabin.” He added with just a hint of danger in his tone that sent a little thrill through her.
“Well, it isn’t. Us, I mean.” She responded, plucking at her dress with something approaching disdain and feeling the need to defend her statement. Not that she didn’t do feminine but, it was the posh frock, dripping jewels and limousine that made her feel out of her class.
He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Just…go with it tonight, huh?”
She nodded, “Yeah. You better top me up again then.” She held out her glass to him but the limousine slowed and he turned his attention towards the window.
“We’re nearly there.” He said as the car caught up with a queue of other cars.
She looked past him out the window; The John F. Kennedy Centre For Performing Arts loomed ahead; a low glowing slab of modern architecture, unmistakable against the backdrop of twinkling city lights. She looked at him in surprise and then rememebed something he’d dropped casually into a conversation a few days before. “Opera?”
“La Traviata.” He smiled smugly.
“Great, I can’t understand a word of Italian.” She mused as the limousine came a stop behind a snarl up. Someone somewhere sounded a horn in frustration.
“You’ll love it anyway, trust me” He glanced at his watch and then out the window in impatience, then tapped on the screen for the driver pressed the intercom. “Hey, set us down here, we’ll walk the last bit.” The driver nodded and eased the limousine over to the curb.
She looked out the window. The opera house was still a way away. “Jack, these shoes…”
“Aw c’mon, you’ve blown up a sun, for cryin’ out loud! You’re telling me you can’t handle a teeny pair of… really strappy really high, really sexy… heels?” He peered down admiring said footwear with renewed enthusiasm.
She crooked a finger under his chin and lifted his face back to hers. “I’m never gonna live that sun thing down am I?”
“Nope.” He grinned. “C’mon I know a short cut.” Leaving her wondering how on earth he’d had time to find a short cut to anywhere in this town, let alone the opera house.
He opened the door and stepped out into the slightly chilly early autumn night, holding out a hand for her which she gratefully took as stepped out to join him, pulling her thin shawl close around her otherwise bare shoulders. He held out and arm and she laced her own through it, leaning on him as he led her between two buildings and down a side road.
They turned off the road into a walkway that lead down to the waterside. It was dark and deserted and she ignored the pinching of her shoes to concentrate on the stillness that contrasted with the busy city behind them. “I thought you didn’t like tragedies.” She asked.
“Oh I don’t but this is a great…” His words were interrupted by the sudden trilling from her small clutch bag. He pulled a face. “Carter?”
She had the grace to look embarrassed. “Sorry! Thought I’d turned it off.” She reached into her bag and retrieved the phone. “It’s the SGC.” She said, unconsciously straightening to attention as she read the display and prepared to answer it.
He grabbed if from her, hit the cancel button and then ruthlessly pulled the battery out. “Yeah, well, whatever they want it’ll wait ‘til morning” She couldn’t miss the slight note of annoyance in his voice but then, he handed the phone back to her to put away and gave her a reassuring smile. “Tonight, you’re all mine.”
She smiled at that, “Always.” And because she could and because she felt like it, she leaned over and pressed her lips to his cheek. He wrapped his arm around her waist and gave her a little squeeze.
Her lips had barely left his cheek before blinding white light engulfed them and, just as suddenly they were stood in the General’s office at the SGC.
Jack looked around, rolled his eyes and then dropped his arm from around Sam’s waist. “Well this wasn’t part of the plan.”
Sam took an unconscious step away from Jack and came immediately to attention in front of General Landry who was looking at them both with an odd and slightly amused expression. “I’m sorry Colonel, Jack.” He said.
“Hank.” Jack replied nonchalantly but with a slight warning in his tone.
“Were you going somewhere nice?” Hank asked, not letting his amusement drop for a minute. Sam was trying hard not to feel completely uncomfortable given her attire and the situation she found herself in.
“Opera.” Jack supplied. “La Traviata to be precise.”
General Landry nodded. “Good choice. I took my ex-wife to see that once. She was weeping her eyes out by the end of the third act.”
Sam shot a look at Jack and he gave the slightest shrug in return. She turned her focus back to General Landry and cut to the chase. “Uh, sir, may I ask…”
“What you’re doing here, Colonel? Yes of course. But first may I say I really am sorry to break up what was obviously going to be a great date like this. I hope you can reschedule; it’ll be worth it.” He drew in a breath and switched immediately from amused friendliness to commanding officer mode without a beat, “Frankly this was quite urgent and when you didn’t answer your phone I took the decision to have the Hammond beam you directly here. If you step through into the briefing room we’ll begin.” General Landry motioned thought the glass partition and Sam turned and, for the first time, saw the briefing room full of familiar faces, most of them either looking on with utter shock or - the ones that knew about her and General O’Neill’s relationship (which wasn’t many of them) looking on with undisguised amusement.
She sighed and stepped through the door.
“Top up?” Jack drawled with a faint smirk of amusement across his face as he held up the bottle to her.
She felt giddy already. Champagne on an empty stomach; it must be something to do with those bubbles. “I shouldn’t… but…” She held the glass out and let him pour. The blacked out windows softened the glare of the night life of Washington as it flashed by outside. “Thank you.” She said and took another sip, snorting a little as the bubbles tickled her nose and then giggling slightly at the sound she’d made.
He rolled his eyes. “Drunk already.”
She leaned into him and laughed, “Well it’s not often a girl gets to enjoy a champagne limo ride as part of her date.” The playfulness in her tone evident.
He shrugged in his usual self effacing way, “Well, when I hired the car it was only a few dollars more for the booze as part of the package so I thought, what the hey.”
“Yes, I’m sure you did.” She sighed, knowing it was probably a lot more than that given the expensive brand of champagne they were drinking. She knew he was up to something and suspected she knew what it was; it was one of the main reasons she was happy to let the alcohol flow because, if she was right, a little something to calm her nerves would be just what she needed. She looked over at him in his tuxedo and bow tie and suddenly felt very grateful that he wasn’t in service dress tonight; she didn’t know if she’d be able to completely relax if he’d worn them. When he said it was a dress up event he obviously wasn’t kidding and her simple invite which suggested she “dress like you’re going to the Oscars” had completely intrigued her.
“What?” He asked with a curious but happy smile on his face as he watched her watching him.
She dipped her head, caught out and then shook it slightly. “Nothing.”
“No, what?” He asked with a frown but there was still humour in his eyes.
She conceded, “I was just thinking, this is so not us.” She gestured at her dress, his tuxedo, the car and champagne in general. “Unless living here has turned you into some kind of metropolitan softie.” She added with a wicked grin.
He raised his eyebrows in admonishment, “I shall enjoy disproving that next time we’re at the cabin.” He added with just a hint of danger in his tone that sent a little thrill through her.
“Well, it isn’t. Us, I mean.” She responded, plucking at her dress with something approaching disdain and feeling the need to defend her statement. Not that she didn’t do feminine but, it was the posh frock, dripping jewels and limousine that made her feel out of her class.
He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Just…go with it tonight, huh?”
She nodded, “Yeah. You better top me up again then.” She held out her glass to him but the limousine slowed and he turned his attention towards the window.
“We’re nearly there.” He said as the car caught up with a queue of other cars.
She looked past him out the window; The John F. Kennedy Centre For Performing Arts loomed ahead; a low glowing slab of modern architecture, unmistakable against the backdrop of twinkling city lights. She looked at him in surprise and then rememebed something he’d dropped casually into a conversation a few days before. “Opera?”
“La Traviata.” He smiled smugly.
“Great, I can’t understand a word of Italian.” She mused as the limousine came a stop behind a snarl up. Someone somewhere sounded a horn in frustration.
“You’ll love it anyway, trust me” He glanced at his watch and then out the window in impatience, then tapped on the screen for the driver pressed the intercom. “Hey, set us down here, we’ll walk the last bit.” The driver nodded and eased the limousine over to the curb.
She looked out the window. The opera house was still a way away. “Jack, these shoes…”
“Aw c’mon, you’ve blown up a sun, for cryin’ out loud! You’re telling me you can’t handle a teeny pair of… really strappy really high, really sexy… heels?” He peered down admiring said footwear with renewed enthusiasm.
She crooked a finger under his chin and lifted his face back to hers. “I’m never gonna live that sun thing down am I?”
“Nope.” He grinned. “C’mon I know a short cut.” Leaving her wondering how on earth he’d had time to find a short cut to anywhere in this town, let alone the opera house.
He opened the door and stepped out into the slightly chilly early autumn night, holding out a hand for her which she gratefully took as stepped out to join him, pulling her thin shawl close around her otherwise bare shoulders. He held out and arm and she laced her own through it, leaning on him as he led her between two buildings and down a side road.
They turned off the road into a walkway that lead down to the waterside. It was dark and deserted and she ignored the pinching of her shoes to concentrate on the stillness that contrasted with the busy city behind them. “I thought you didn’t like tragedies.” She asked.
“Oh I don’t but this is a great…” His words were interrupted by the sudden trilling from her small clutch bag. He pulled a face. “Carter?”
She had the grace to look embarrassed. “Sorry! Thought I’d turned it off.” She reached into her bag and retrieved the phone. “It’s the SGC.” She said, unconsciously straightening to attention as she read the display and prepared to answer it.
He grabbed if from her, hit the cancel button and then ruthlessly pulled the battery out. “Yeah, well, whatever they want it’ll wait ‘til morning” She couldn’t miss the slight note of annoyance in his voice but then, he handed the phone back to her to put away and gave her a reassuring smile. “Tonight, you’re all mine.”
She smiled at that, “Always.” And because she could and because she felt like it, she leaned over and pressed her lips to his cheek. He wrapped his arm around her waist and gave her a little squeeze.
Her lips had barely left his cheek before blinding white light engulfed them and, just as suddenly they were stood in the General’s office at the SGC.
Jack looked around, rolled his eyes and then dropped his arm from around Sam’s waist. “Well this wasn’t part of the plan.”
Sam took an unconscious step away from Jack and came immediately to attention in front of General Landry who was looking at them both with an odd and slightly amused expression. “I’m sorry Colonel, Jack.” He said.
“Hank.” Jack replied nonchalantly but with a slight warning in his tone.
“Were you going somewhere nice?” Hank asked, not letting his amusement drop for a minute. Sam was trying hard not to feel completely uncomfortable given her attire and the situation she found herself in.
“Opera.” Jack supplied. “La Traviata to be precise.”
General Landry nodded. “Good choice. I took my ex-wife to see that once. She was weeping her eyes out by the end of the third act.”
Sam shot a look at Jack and he gave the slightest shrug in return. She turned her focus back to General Landry and cut to the chase. “Uh, sir, may I ask…”
“What you’re doing here, Colonel? Yes of course. But first may I say I really am sorry to break up what was obviously going to be a great date like this. I hope you can reschedule; it’ll be worth it.” He drew in a breath and switched immediately from amused friendliness to commanding officer mode without a beat, “Frankly this was quite urgent and when you didn’t answer your phone I took the decision to have the Hammond beam you directly here. If you step through into the briefing room we’ll begin.” General Landry motioned thought the glass partition and Sam turned and, for the first time, saw the briefing room full of familiar faces, most of them either looking on with utter shock or - the ones that knew about her and General O’Neill’s relationship (which wasn’t many of them) looking on with undisguised amusement.
She sighed and stepped through the door.