FIC: "Texts from Last Night," multiple fandoms/pairings
Title: Texts from Last Night
Author: geonncannon
Fandom: See cut-tag
Pairing: See cut-tag
Word Count: 4,904
Category: PWP, humor
Spoilers: Nothing too major, I assume.
Disclaimer: None of these lovely people belong to me in any way, shape or form.
Rating: See cut-tag
Warnings: Awful, horrible language in some of the texts used as prompts. Seriously, people, clean up your drunken language! Also: Some kinkiness (Helen/Charlotte), some RPF (the self-explanatory one)
Author's Notes: Written for the Multifandom Texts From Last Night Ficathon!
Summary: You know those nights when you got drunk and sent a text you really shouldn't have? It happens to these people, too.
Stargate SG-1, Good Morning Starshine, Sam/Janet
(323): Let's just say that watching the sunrise in a space helmet is really the only way to do it.
Sam only felt a strange tugging sensation as she ejected from the capsule. It was as if her entire body was shaken in a paint mixer and then released. She remembered when she was a little girl, playing the game where you put your head on a baseball bat and spin, then trying to run. She felt just as adrift and directionless now. She opened her eyes and, rather than darkness, saw a vast expanse stretching out on all sides. Her eyes widened behind the visor of her helmet.
She wasn't aware of how far she had drifted before she realized there might be a space debris issue. She twisted and arrested her spin with a bout of aerodynamic aerobics that would have gotten her into Cirque du Soleil if she could have copied it in gravity. Behind her was something massive and dark, with blazing centers of light here and there on its surface.
Earth at night.
She stared, open-mouthed at the sight before her. She thought of all the planets she had seen from space, but this was an entirely different thing. This was home. Bette Midler entered her mind unbidden, singing "From a Distance," and Sam embarrassed herself by tearing up at the thought-echo of the song. She noticed a thread of pale gold to her right and turned toward it. It shimmered along the curve of the planet, and Sam realized what she was about to see.
"Carter to Stargate Command."
Two seconds later came the reply. "Stargate Command, Colonel Carter."
"Patch me through to this number on a private line, please." She read it off.
Two seconds passed. "Yes, ma'am." A delay, and then, "Sam? What's wrong?"
The experimental shuttle I was in had a crisis and I was forced to kill everything and eject and now I'm waiting for Cam to get his ass over here with a shuttle to pick me up. She discarded the truth and instead said, "Nothing. Did I wake you up?"
Sam hated the two second pauses; they were just long enough to be noticeable, but short enough that they could have been natural pauses in conversation. Eventually Janet replied. "Yes. You know I don't care. Tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing," Sam insisted. "I just--"
The sun emerged from behind Earth, looking so much smaller than she would have expected. It was like a baseball arcing far around the shape of the world. Part of North America was illuminated by the pure yellow aura. Sam blinked back her tears and smiled.
"I just wanted to tell you good morning."
"Sam." Janet chuckled and Sam heard her pajamas rustling against the bedclothes. To hear such a small, intimate thing while looking at the entire planet made Sam's head swim. "Sam, the sun has just risen."
"I know. I'm watching it."
Another pause. "Where are you?"
Sam looked for the approximate location of Colorado in the dawn-painted continent below her. "I'm... watching over you. I wanted to say hello."
Janet chuckled. "The government lets you use their secure lines for that?"
"Well, you save the world enough times and they get a little lenient on the phone bill."
Janet laughed. "Well. Good morning, Sam."
"Good morning." A shadow drifted across the bulky lines of her suit, but she didn't turn for the risk of tumbling out of control. "I think my ride is here."
"Okay. You'll have to go into more detail about where you are when I see you."
"It's a deal. Bye, Janet. I love you."
"I love you, too. Bye."
Sam disconnected, and a secondary call reached her in progress. "--rter, please respond."
"I'm here, Cam."
"Phew. Okay. For a second there I was afraid you might be unconscious." A pause, this time it was natural. Knowing Cam, he was captivated by the same sight she was. "Hell of a thing, ain't it?"
"Yeah," Sam said softly. She smiled. "Morning, Cameron."
"Morning, Carter. Hold tight. We'll get you back on solid ground in a jiffy."
Sam breathed deeply and sighed, watching as the planet was lit up below her.
"No rush."
*
Stargate SG-1, The Most Important Meal, Jack O'Neill/Daniel Jackson
(859): Please tell me the foreign boys in the kitchen this morning were yours.
Jack woke to the sound of the shower running in the other room. He pushed the blankets back and heard something heavy fall to the floor. Lube. He grunted and stretched, hands over his face as the details of the night before came rushing back to him. When he dropped his hands, his lips were twisted into a sly smile. He was still naked, and his cock was stirring under the blankets. At his age, he was happy to see the little guy still responded to thoughts like the ones currently running around in his head.
With Daniel in the shower, he could run into the kitchen and grab something to eat out of the kitchen. He needed fuel for his engine.
He kicked the blankets away and stood up, giving his knees a second to protest having weight put on them again. His erection was at half-mast (well, maybe quarter-mast), and the thought of Daniel soaping up in the shower was enough to stoke it just a little higher. He wouldn't touch it even to help things along; he'd leave that job for Daniel.
Jack grunted and shuffled out of the bedroom, ruffling his hair as he moved down the hall. He thought he had some of that fiber cereal Carter insisted he buy, and there were eggs. Did he have time to scramble up a few of them? Judging by how long Daniel usually took in the shower, he did. But how long had he already been in the shower?
These were the thoughts running through his head as he stepped into the kitchen, so it took him a moment to realize there were three men sitting at the kitchen table. He blinked at them. They stared at him. He straightened his back, a posture more befitting a general regardless of his uniform (or lack thereof), and tightened his jaw.
"Morning."
One of the men recovered and nodded. "Guten Morgen."
Jack looked at the stove to see eggs had already been scrambled. "Are these for anyone?" The man who'd spoken nodded, trying not to stare but apparently incapable of looking away. Jack went to the stove and made a small plate of eggs for himself. Oh, bacon. He popped one strip into his mouth and waved to the men at the table before he walked out of the kitchen.
Given the option of being embarrassed and moving with pride, he chose pride. He ate the eggs with his fingers, finishing them off as he reached the bathroom and slipped inside. He left the plate on the sink and slipped behind the curtain. Steam was rising from the porcelain, enshrouding Daniel but allowing Jack to see the smooth line of his spine and the subtle curves of his ass.
Jack cupped both of Daniel's asscheeks and squeezed them as he pressed forward. He put his lips against the shell of Daniel's ear. "Friends of yours?"
"They got in late last night for the conference at the SGC. I've known Gunther since college. I told you they were staying here."
"Nope." He kissed Daniel's neck.
"I... could have sworn... of course, if you were distracting me..."
Jack's hand slipped around Daniel's waist and gripped his cock. Daniel groaned.
"Could've been my fault... it's so easy to... forget... little things..."
Jack smiled.
*
Sanctuary, Summer of Love, Helen/John
(717): I'm glad we're going to catch up. too bad it's over my vagina.
Of all the fashions Helen had lived through, she had to admit the sixties took the most getting used to. And once she was used to it, she really, truly enjoyed the party girl look. She cut her hair into a bob and held it out of her face with a thick white headband. Her dress was orange and purple and clung to her curves in a way that made underwear too much of a hassle. She loved the boots, which stretched all the way past her knees to mid-thigh. It left a deliciously teasing bit of skin between leather and her skirt, and she couldn't count how many enemies she'd distracted simply by crossing and uncrossing her legs at an opportune moment during negotiations.
He didn't speak when he showed up. She almost expected him; the hairs on her arms rose as if anticipated an electrical shock and her skin tingled moments before she felt him in the room. It had been more than fifteen years since his last drop-in. Helen pulled her hands away from the desk just as her chair was turned around.
John towered above her, his eyes dark with desire. He wore a rumpled suit, the tie loosely knotted at his throat, and Helen grabbed it to pull him down to her.
"You're late," she whispered, and then captured his lips in a violent kiss.
This was their routine, as empty as it was. She hated her addiction to him, and she knew it pained him to come to her like this. Her mind could tell her he was a monster, that she was over him. But her heart and body ached for him. His tongue flickered into her mouth, and she thought of a way it could be put to better use.
She leaned back in her chair, slouching as she pushed John down. He kissed her breasts through the second-skin of her dress and she closed her eyes, shuddering as his hands stroked the bare skin of her thighs. His touch made her muscles tighten, but he pushed her legs apart as he knelt in front of her chair like a supplicant before a queen.
Helen bent her knees outward and tugged up the hem of her dress. The door to her office was open, but neither of them wanted to take the twenty seconds it would take to close and lock it. John turned his head and kissed the inside of her thigh and Helen moaned. Her eyes closed and she slid her hips closer to the edge of the seat.
He lifted his head, exhaled sharply, and then looked at her. "So what is new in your world, Helen?"
The question startled her into a laugh, and she shook her head. "Really, John?"
"Well, this seems to be the only time I have your undivided attention." He dragged a finger through her thick pubic hair and she clutched the arms of the chair with both hands. The leather creaked under her bucking hips and she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. "Is it so wrong that I wish for an update?" He kissed her other thigh.
"If you want news," she gasped, "you only have to listen." She put her hand on top of his head and pushed him down. He smiled and wet his lips before he kissed her. Helen parted her lips and tucked her tongue into the corner of her mouth as she tried to focus her thoughts.
"You just missed those Liverpool musicians James loves so much. They're quite... good, but terrible... um... h-houseguests." She wet her lips again, kneading the leather of the chair's arms with her fingers. "George is... hands-y. Good with his fingers." She yelped and squirmed, squeezing her eyes shut. "Not as good as some, of course. Ha-um... mm." She was thrusting her hips toward his mouth, struggling for breath as well as words now. She brought one hand to her mouth and sucked the tip of her index finger in what she hoped was a suggestive display of innuendo.
"My Sasquatch butler has proven to be... quite... adept at making my tea... expertly." John murmured and sent vibrations through sensitive flesh, and Helen's eyes rolled back in her head. "James is running the... UK Sanctuary extremely well... God, yes, John there! There..." She groaned and squirmed under his tongue and the touch of two fingers. He lifted his head and closed his lips around her clit, sucking as his finger eased into her.
"And your--"
"Shut up," Helen gasped. She pushed his head back down and cried out as she came, her thighs tight around his head. She came, and John ran his tongue over her labia to make her yelp and whimper helplessly before he pulled back. She stared at him, unsure of what was going to happen next. He rose and straightened his tie, leaving her a sprawled mess in her seat. She could feel the sweat on her upper lip, knew that her nipples were visible through the thin material of her dress.
John stared at her for a long moment, committing the sight to memory. She ran her eyes down his long, lean body and noticed the bulge in his slacks. "Let me--"
He vanished before she could finish the thought, her hand extended toward empty air. She closed her fingers into a fist, and she looked around the make sure she was still alone. She tugged her dress back into place, taking a handkerchief off her desk to wipe her thighs as daintily as she could before she turned back to her work. Her fingers shook as she picked up the pen, and she stared at the instrument until it became still.
She knew he would be back again, one day soon. That time, she wouldn't take no for an answer.
*
Stargate SG-1, Personal Ringtone, Sam/Jack
(334): He used my blackberry to make a voice recording of me orgasming, then set it as my ringtone while I was sleeping. I discovered this during a staff meeting this morning.
Sam and Jack were seated on one side of the table, with Janet and Teal'c across from them. The seat across from Jack was empty since Daniel was currently expounding on the slides from the latest MALP footage. "The people of PS4-221 are reluctant to allow teams into their relics, but I believe they're mainly wary of being taken advantage of. SG-9 has made some inroads with negotiating a--"
Sam noticed Jack slipping his phone out, watched as he kept it by his thigh and dialed without looking at the screen. She covered her smirk by extending a finger across her upper lip, focused on Daniel, trying to let him know that at least one of them was listen--
"Uh... uh... I'm close. Don't stop. Please... yes. Yes... right there, oh God."
Sam blanched. Her mind flashed back to the night before, her leg hooked over Jack's hip as he thrust into her. She had been thrashing her head on the pillow, eyes closed, but she thought she'd seen a glimpse of him holding something.
"No, don't stop. Don't stop. Ung! Jack, fuck me... yes..."
Her PHONE.
She nearly ripped the pocket of her BDUs as she fought to get her phone free. Her face had gone from deathly pale to sunset pink in the space of a few seconds and her brain seemed to have forgotten how to work the pockets.
"Spank me."
"Major..." General Hammond said. It came out as more of a squeak.
Sam freed her phone and began jabbing at the buttons hard enough to make the case protest.
"Jack! Oh, Go-ho-od, Jack, yes... I'm coming..."
She managed to hit ignore and the bastard fucking phone shut up. She dropped it on the table and looked at Janet, who seemed to be trying to eat her own lips to keep from laughing out loud. Her eyes were wide, and her cheeks were glowing with a blush. Teal'c's eyebrow was raised, and Daniel seemed frozen in front of the slideshow. The clicker was limp in his hand, his eyebrows were meeting his hairline, and he looked like he was trying to form words in a language he'd never heard of.
"Ah--"
"Major--"
"That--"
"It..."
Everyone in the room spoke at once, save for Jack O'Neill. Sam slumped in her chair, eyes wide and a hand over her mouth as she tried to wrap her brain around what had just happened. Her gaze settled on Jack. Calm, collected, casual Jack who was just looking at her as if he was wondering what her problem was.
"A mission briefing is hardly the place for that sort of prank, Major Carter."
Sam's embarrassment turned to confusion, then to irritation. She remembered the feel of Jack's cock in her hand. The teasing strokes, his earlobe in her mouth, and then tucking him back into his trousers with a sigh of regret. "Too bad we have that mission briefing to get to. Rain check."
She fumed at him, and he just smiled. She pushed herself up in her seat, refusing to be embarrassed any longer (if someone would just tell her ears that so they would stop burning) and deftly picked up her phone.
"Sorry, Sir. I'll set it to silent."
"Sounds like you should have set it to vibrate," Janet murmured.
Sam shot her friend a look that would have crippled lesser women, but Janet just raised her eyebrow. She mimed putting the phone back into her pocket.
Daniel cleared his throat. "Ah... um. There's..." He turned to look at the slide to see where he'd left off. Sam typed a quick text to Jack without looking at the screen.
"Payback will be a bitch."
A few seconds later the phone buzzed and she glanced down to read his reply:
"I look forward to it."
Sam smirked and tucked her phone into her pocket where, hopefully, it wouldn't cause any further interruptions.
*
RPF, Fantasies Come True, Amanda Tapping/Teryl Rothery
(918): this lesbian fantasy crush is getting WAY out of hand. just spent an entire meeting staring at her long fingers thinking, "oh those could be fun"
It started innocently enough. During a night of too many drinks after wrapping season four, one of them got the bright idea of playing truth or dare. After learning way too much about Chris, and drawing the awe of the crowd over Rick's juggling ability, someone decided Amanda had been playing far too much of a wallflower. They pounced on her. Even Teryl, Amanda's supposed sidekick, started peppering her with "truth or dare" type questions.
She finally chose truth, and Michael asked her if she'd ever been with a woman. She was certain her cheeks gave the answer away so she told the truth. "Yes, I have."
"Whoo," Teryl said, waving a hand at her face as if she'd gotten the vapors. "I may have to watch out. I don't know if I'd be able to contain myself if you started coming on to me."
They had laughed it off, but that one spark had set off a wildfire in her mind. That night in bed, after her husband was asleep, she stared at the ceiling and considered it. She decided to visit a lesbian bar on a lark and discovered her Sam Carter hairstyle was very popular among the ladies. She was propositioned a few times, sorely tempted a few times, but she went home and chalked the whole experience up to curiosity.
A few weeks into the fifth season, a script arrived called "Rite of Passage." She was thrilled to see that the majority of the story focused on Janet and the alien teenager she'd adopted. It was a storyline she and Teryl had both fought for, so it seemed like a victory. She was a little annoyed to see that the first scene involved Jack O'Neill and Janet Fraiser in a strangely familial setting, but so long as Teryl got her due...
At the first table read, Rick mentioned there were a few changes in the script. He'd suggested to the writers that, instead of Jack, it made more sense for Janet to be celebrating Cassandra's birthday with Sam. Amanda was thrilled but tried to be professional as she read the new pages. Me and Janet, raising a kid together... that'll help the fantasies.
And by that time, the fantasies had definitely started. Originally as a threesome, but then evolving when she realized she didn't particularly want to share. She didn't want to toy with bisexuality; she wanted to dip her toe in the ocean of lesbianism. Things finally reached a head when she lost track of her part in a read-through because she was staring at Teryl's long, elegant fingers and thinking, "Oh, those could be fun."
She found Teryl at the far corner of the shoebox-sized set, in an all-purpose area that was in the midst of a redesign to look like her lab. The doors didn't close all the way, but she made do with a small handwritten "Do Not Disturb" sign stuck to the outside wall. The cast and crew knew to respect those signs. They meant that someone was either rehearsing or taking a quick nap. But if Amanda had her way, this time it would prevent a completely different kind of interruption.
It was safer on the set, dressed like Air Force Major Samantha Carter. It meant that she wasn't responsible. It was Sam, coming on to Janet. She wet her lips and summoned all her courage for what she had to say.
"Turtle," Amanda said softly. "Do you remember that night you joked about not being able to stop yourself if I came on to you?"
Teryl smiled at the use of her nickname. "Sure, Min. Why, you wanna give it a try?"
"Yes." The word was out before she could stop herself.
"Oh." Teryl looked shocked, but not offended. She blinked a few times and then laughed nervously. "Oh. Wow. I'm-I'm honored, Amanda."
Amanda's breath was ragged. "So... should we kiss?"
Teryl grinned. "Sure. We can try kissing."
Their lips just barely missed each other, and Amanda corrected. She felt Teryl's hand in her hair and tilted her head back, her lips parting just as Teryl's tongue brushed across them. It was an exploratory kiss, and Amanda kept her eyes open to make sure Teryl wasn't just doing it for her. Teryl pulled back just a bit and whispered, "Amanda? Focus on the kiss. You need to know if you like it, right?"
"Right."
"Right."
They kissed again and Amanda gave herself over to it. She felt Teryl's breasts against hers, her petite body pinned between her and the table. Teryl was still wearing her "Fraiser" uniform underneath a heavy black jacket, and Amanda stripped it away to massage Teryl's shoulders. Teryl moaned her approval and Amanda dipped her tongue in and out of Teryl's mouth.
"I think I like this," Amanda gasped as she began fumbling with Teryl's tie.
"Uh huh." Teryl was tugging the shirt out of Amanda's BDUs. She smoothed her hand over Amanda's belly, past the navel ring that only a select few people knew existed, and Amanda sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. "Okay?"
"Yes." The top three buttons of Teryl's uniform blouse was undone.
Teryl wet her lips and pushed Amanda away, just a bit, so that she could crouch in front of her. She lifted Amanda's shirt, baring her stomach, and leaned in before Amanda could ask what she was doing. Any speech died in Amanda's throat as Teryl kissed her navel, her tongue swirling and dancing with the ring. The movement sent shockwaves straight south, stoking a blaze between her legs that Amanda tried to stifle by pressing her thighs together.
Teryl had other plans. She slid her hand up the inside of Amanda's thigh, stroked the crotch of her trousers, and then began kissing her way up toward Amanda's breasts.
Amanda braced her hands on the edge of the lab table. Her eyes were closed as her best friend kissed her chest. She almost laughed as she realized that Teryl's head was entirely covered by her shirt, like some kind of bizarre mask. Then Teryl kissed her nipple through her bra and laughter wasn't possible anymore. Nothing funny about that.
Amanda somehow managed to get her trousers undone. She took Janet's hand in a gentle grip and guided it inside. Teryl's touch was gentle against her mound, and Amanda sucked in a breath as Teryl pushed her underwear aside. She moaned helplessly, and she heard what might have been a matching groan coming from under her shirt.
Teryl touched her with two fingers. Amanda stroked Teryl's hair through her shirt and rocked her hips against Teryl's hand, biting her lip as she rode her palm. Teryl brushed her clit, and Amanda let out a trembling and desperate cry. Teryl shushed her, pursing her lips against the swell of Amanda's breast as the tip of her middle finger pushed inside of her.
Amanda came quickly, clinging to Teryl like she was drowning. Teryl pressed her palm against Amanda, then began to maneuver her body upward. Amanda frowned, and then couldn't resist a laugh as Teryl's head began to squirm through the neckhole of Amanda's shirt. "What in the name... Turtle! That won't work."
"Damn," Teryl whispered. She kissed Amanda's upper chest. "That was going to be incredibly adorable."
Amanda lifted her shirt and freed Teryl, making her hair stand up at odd angles. She cupped Teryl's face and kissed her properly. When they parted, she brushed her lips over Teryl's cheek and sighed.
"Next time I'll wear a bigger shirt."
"Next time?" Teryl said.
"Well, you didn't get a turn. I owe you."
"Yes, you do. And we have the rest of this season to find little moments to... get to know each other better."
Amanda smiled.
She was suddenly looking forward to the rest of the season.
*
Sanctuary, Taking Shots, Helen/Charlotte
(717): Leave the bottle at home cause either way I'm not taking another shot. You have no idea how long it took me to compose this text free of grammatical error.
(1-717): Gold star for you, but I'm on my way and the soco is buckled in next to me. This is happening.
When Charlotte answered the door, Helen had the bottle of wine in one hand and her cell phone in the other. She looked up, admonishment in her eyes as she examined Charlotte. "I had no idea I was getting involved with such a lightweight."
"I thought you said you were bringing Southern Comfort."
"Tsk. Don't you know me better than that by now?"
Charlotte sighed. "You and your wines."
The conversation that followed took place in the foyer of Charlotte's townhouse and was comprised entirely of muttered one-syllable words. Helen's phone went into her pocket, and Charlotte took the liquor bottle and let it dangle from two fingers as Helen sucked her tongue. "Mm," Helen said. She kissed the corners of Charlotte's mouth. "You have been drinking, darling. Perhaps I should take care of the bottle myself. If you have any clean glasses left, of course."
Charlotte smiled as a plan formed in her mind. "We don't necessarily... need glasses."
Helen raised an eyebrow. "When you get that sparkle in your eye, I get worried."
Charlotte took Helen's hand and pulled her into the living room.
#
Helen kissed the tips of Charlotte's fingers, the inside of her wrist, and then nuzzled her palm. She was on her hands and knees with Charlotte standing in front of her, and Charlotte turned her hand so that the palm was facing up. She rested her fingers on Helen's bottom lip, and Helen obediently opened her mouth.
Charlotte pressed the lip of the bottle to her forearm, just under the crease of her elbow, and tilted it. The liquor was cold as it coursed down her arm, bumping over the hills of her radius and ulna to pool in her palm. She tipped the cup and the liquid flowed into Helen's mouth. It wasn't the most successful thing in the world, but Helen ignored the Southern Comfort rolling down the sides of her face and on her chin and swallowed as much as she could. She kept her eyes locked on Charlotte's as she sucked the liquor from her fingers, kissing a trail up her arm until she could nuzzle her inner elbow.
"God," Charlotte gasped.
Helen looked up at her with an evil grin.
#
"There's a bit of a dominatrix in you."
Charlotte tilted her head to the side. "You think?"
"I didn't say it was a bad thing, darling." Helen kissed Charlotte's big toe. She was lying on her back with a towel underneath her to protect the carpet. Charlotte held the bottle at an angle and then made a face. Helen anticipated her concern. "It's all right... if you spill some on me, you can just suck it up."
Charlotte poured.
The wine trickled down her calf, over her foot, down her toes, and flowed directly into Helen's mouth. Helen opened her mouth, licked Charlotte's big toe, and then sucked them into her mouth. The wine splashed onto her chest and throat, but the majority of it went right where it was supposed to. Helen closed her eyes and let the wine rain down on her as she ran her tongue between Charlotte's toes.
Charlotte shivered and brought the bottle to her lips, taking a drink for herself. "Whoo," she whispered. She shook her head and looked down at Helen as she tried to think of a new position.
#
Helen fastened her lips over Charlotte's navel and sucked the wine out. The tip of her tongue pressed into the divot and Charlotte writhed.
"Lie still."
"It tickles."
Helen grinned and licked a circle around Charlotte's belly before moving up to her chest. She took the bottle off the nightstand, took a big drink, and held the wine in her mouth before she pressed her lips to Charlotte's. They shared the mouthful of wine until it was gone, and Charlotte groaned and flicked her tongue against Helen's cheek.
"I'm going to have such a hangover tomorrow..."
"I'll write you a doctor's note."
Charlotte laughed and wrapped her arms around Helen's neck. "How much of that wine is left?"
"Oh, I think there's enough. What do you have in mind?"
She explained what she wanted to do and, as she spoke, Helen figured out the logistics. If there wasn't enough wine left in the bottle, she had a spare waiting out in the car in case of emergencies.
Author: geonncannon
Fandom: See cut-tag
Pairing: See cut-tag
Word Count: 4,904
Category: PWP, humor
Spoilers: Nothing too major, I assume.
Disclaimer: None of these lovely people belong to me in any way, shape or form.
Rating: See cut-tag
Warnings: Awful, horrible language in some of the texts used as prompts. Seriously, people, clean up your drunken language! Also: Some kinkiness (Helen/Charlotte), some RPF (the self-explanatory one)
Author's Notes: Written for the Multifandom Texts From Last Night Ficathon!
Summary: You know those nights when you got drunk and sent a text you really shouldn't have? It happens to these people, too.
Stargate SG-1, Good Morning Starshine, Sam/Janet
(323): Let's just say that watching the sunrise in a space helmet is really the only way to do it.
Sam only felt a strange tugging sensation as she ejected from the capsule. It was as if her entire body was shaken in a paint mixer and then released. She remembered when she was a little girl, playing the game where you put your head on a baseball bat and spin, then trying to run. She felt just as adrift and directionless now. She opened her eyes and, rather than darkness, saw a vast expanse stretching out on all sides. Her eyes widened behind the visor of her helmet.
She wasn't aware of how far she had drifted before she realized there might be a space debris issue. She twisted and arrested her spin with a bout of aerodynamic aerobics that would have gotten her into Cirque du Soleil if she could have copied it in gravity. Behind her was something massive and dark, with blazing centers of light here and there on its surface.
Earth at night.
She stared, open-mouthed at the sight before her. She thought of all the planets she had seen from space, but this was an entirely different thing. This was home. Bette Midler entered her mind unbidden, singing "From a Distance," and Sam embarrassed herself by tearing up at the thought-echo of the song. She noticed a thread of pale gold to her right and turned toward it. It shimmered along the curve of the planet, and Sam realized what she was about to see.
"Carter to Stargate Command."
Two seconds later came the reply. "Stargate Command, Colonel Carter."
"Patch me through to this number on a private line, please." She read it off.
Two seconds passed. "Yes, ma'am." A delay, and then, "Sam? What's wrong?"
The experimental shuttle I was in had a crisis and I was forced to kill everything and eject and now I'm waiting for Cam to get his ass over here with a shuttle to pick me up. She discarded the truth and instead said, "Nothing. Did I wake you up?"
Sam hated the two second pauses; they were just long enough to be noticeable, but short enough that they could have been natural pauses in conversation. Eventually Janet replied. "Yes. You know I don't care. Tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing," Sam insisted. "I just--"
The sun emerged from behind Earth, looking so much smaller than she would have expected. It was like a baseball arcing far around the shape of the world. Part of North America was illuminated by the pure yellow aura. Sam blinked back her tears and smiled.
"I just wanted to tell you good morning."
"Sam." Janet chuckled and Sam heard her pajamas rustling against the bedclothes. To hear such a small, intimate thing while looking at the entire planet made Sam's head swim. "Sam, the sun has just risen."
"I know. I'm watching it."
Another pause. "Where are you?"
Sam looked for the approximate location of Colorado in the dawn-painted continent below her. "I'm... watching over you. I wanted to say hello."
Janet chuckled. "The government lets you use their secure lines for that?"
"Well, you save the world enough times and they get a little lenient on the phone bill."
Janet laughed. "Well. Good morning, Sam."
"Good morning." A shadow drifted across the bulky lines of her suit, but she didn't turn for the risk of tumbling out of control. "I think my ride is here."
"Okay. You'll have to go into more detail about where you are when I see you."
"It's a deal. Bye, Janet. I love you."
"I love you, too. Bye."
Sam disconnected, and a secondary call reached her in progress. "--rter, please respond."
"I'm here, Cam."
"Phew. Okay. For a second there I was afraid you might be unconscious." A pause, this time it was natural. Knowing Cam, he was captivated by the same sight she was. "Hell of a thing, ain't it?"
"Yeah," Sam said softly. She smiled. "Morning, Cameron."
"Morning, Carter. Hold tight. We'll get you back on solid ground in a jiffy."
Sam breathed deeply and sighed, watching as the planet was lit up below her.
"No rush."
*
Stargate SG-1, The Most Important Meal, Jack O'Neill/Daniel Jackson
(859): Please tell me the foreign boys in the kitchen this morning were yours.
Jack woke to the sound of the shower running in the other room. He pushed the blankets back and heard something heavy fall to the floor. Lube. He grunted and stretched, hands over his face as the details of the night before came rushing back to him. When he dropped his hands, his lips were twisted into a sly smile. He was still naked, and his cock was stirring under the blankets. At his age, he was happy to see the little guy still responded to thoughts like the ones currently running around in his head.
With Daniel in the shower, he could run into the kitchen and grab something to eat out of the kitchen. He needed fuel for his engine.
He kicked the blankets away and stood up, giving his knees a second to protest having weight put on them again. His erection was at half-mast (well, maybe quarter-mast), and the thought of Daniel soaping up in the shower was enough to stoke it just a little higher. He wouldn't touch it even to help things along; he'd leave that job for Daniel.
Jack grunted and shuffled out of the bedroom, ruffling his hair as he moved down the hall. He thought he had some of that fiber cereal Carter insisted he buy, and there were eggs. Did he have time to scramble up a few of them? Judging by how long Daniel usually took in the shower, he did. But how long had he already been in the shower?
These were the thoughts running through his head as he stepped into the kitchen, so it took him a moment to realize there were three men sitting at the kitchen table. He blinked at them. They stared at him. He straightened his back, a posture more befitting a general regardless of his uniform (or lack thereof), and tightened his jaw.
"Morning."
One of the men recovered and nodded. "Guten Morgen."
Jack looked at the stove to see eggs had already been scrambled. "Are these for anyone?" The man who'd spoken nodded, trying not to stare but apparently incapable of looking away. Jack went to the stove and made a small plate of eggs for himself. Oh, bacon. He popped one strip into his mouth and waved to the men at the table before he walked out of the kitchen.
Given the option of being embarrassed and moving with pride, he chose pride. He ate the eggs with his fingers, finishing them off as he reached the bathroom and slipped inside. He left the plate on the sink and slipped behind the curtain. Steam was rising from the porcelain, enshrouding Daniel but allowing Jack to see the smooth line of his spine and the subtle curves of his ass.
Jack cupped both of Daniel's asscheeks and squeezed them as he pressed forward. He put his lips against the shell of Daniel's ear. "Friends of yours?"
"They got in late last night for the conference at the SGC. I've known Gunther since college. I told you they were staying here."
"Nope." He kissed Daniel's neck.
"I... could have sworn... of course, if you were distracting me..."
Jack's hand slipped around Daniel's waist and gripped his cock. Daniel groaned.
"Could've been my fault... it's so easy to... forget... little things..."
Jack smiled.
*
Sanctuary, Summer of Love, Helen/John
(717): I'm glad we're going to catch up. too bad it's over my vagina.
Of all the fashions Helen had lived through, she had to admit the sixties took the most getting used to. And once she was used to it, she really, truly enjoyed the party girl look. She cut her hair into a bob and held it out of her face with a thick white headband. Her dress was orange and purple and clung to her curves in a way that made underwear too much of a hassle. She loved the boots, which stretched all the way past her knees to mid-thigh. It left a deliciously teasing bit of skin between leather and her skirt, and she couldn't count how many enemies she'd distracted simply by crossing and uncrossing her legs at an opportune moment during negotiations.
He didn't speak when he showed up. She almost expected him; the hairs on her arms rose as if anticipated an electrical shock and her skin tingled moments before she felt him in the room. It had been more than fifteen years since his last drop-in. Helen pulled her hands away from the desk just as her chair was turned around.
John towered above her, his eyes dark with desire. He wore a rumpled suit, the tie loosely knotted at his throat, and Helen grabbed it to pull him down to her.
"You're late," she whispered, and then captured his lips in a violent kiss.
This was their routine, as empty as it was. She hated her addiction to him, and she knew it pained him to come to her like this. Her mind could tell her he was a monster, that she was over him. But her heart and body ached for him. His tongue flickered into her mouth, and she thought of a way it could be put to better use.
She leaned back in her chair, slouching as she pushed John down. He kissed her breasts through the second-skin of her dress and she closed her eyes, shuddering as his hands stroked the bare skin of her thighs. His touch made her muscles tighten, but he pushed her legs apart as he knelt in front of her chair like a supplicant before a queen.
Helen bent her knees outward and tugged up the hem of her dress. The door to her office was open, but neither of them wanted to take the twenty seconds it would take to close and lock it. John turned his head and kissed the inside of her thigh and Helen moaned. Her eyes closed and she slid her hips closer to the edge of the seat.
He lifted his head, exhaled sharply, and then looked at her. "So what is new in your world, Helen?"
The question startled her into a laugh, and she shook her head. "Really, John?"
"Well, this seems to be the only time I have your undivided attention." He dragged a finger through her thick pubic hair and she clutched the arms of the chair with both hands. The leather creaked under her bucking hips and she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. "Is it so wrong that I wish for an update?" He kissed her other thigh.
"If you want news," she gasped, "you only have to listen." She put her hand on top of his head and pushed him down. He smiled and wet his lips before he kissed her. Helen parted her lips and tucked her tongue into the corner of her mouth as she tried to focus her thoughts.
"You just missed those Liverpool musicians James loves so much. They're quite... good, but terrible... um... h-houseguests." She wet her lips again, kneading the leather of the chair's arms with her fingers. "George is... hands-y. Good with his fingers." She yelped and squirmed, squeezing her eyes shut. "Not as good as some, of course. Ha-um... mm." She was thrusting her hips toward his mouth, struggling for breath as well as words now. She brought one hand to her mouth and sucked the tip of her index finger in what she hoped was a suggestive display of innuendo.
"My Sasquatch butler has proven to be... quite... adept at making my tea... expertly." John murmured and sent vibrations through sensitive flesh, and Helen's eyes rolled back in her head. "James is running the... UK Sanctuary extremely well... God, yes, John there! There..." She groaned and squirmed under his tongue and the touch of two fingers. He lifted his head and closed his lips around her clit, sucking as his finger eased into her.
"And your--"
"Shut up," Helen gasped. She pushed his head back down and cried out as she came, her thighs tight around his head. She came, and John ran his tongue over her labia to make her yelp and whimper helplessly before he pulled back. She stared at him, unsure of what was going to happen next. He rose and straightened his tie, leaving her a sprawled mess in her seat. She could feel the sweat on her upper lip, knew that her nipples were visible through the thin material of her dress.
John stared at her for a long moment, committing the sight to memory. She ran her eyes down his long, lean body and noticed the bulge in his slacks. "Let me--"
He vanished before she could finish the thought, her hand extended toward empty air. She closed her fingers into a fist, and she looked around the make sure she was still alone. She tugged her dress back into place, taking a handkerchief off her desk to wipe her thighs as daintily as she could before she turned back to her work. Her fingers shook as she picked up the pen, and she stared at the instrument until it became still.
She knew he would be back again, one day soon. That time, she wouldn't take no for an answer.
*
Stargate SG-1, Personal Ringtone, Sam/Jack
(334): He used my blackberry to make a voice recording of me orgasming, then set it as my ringtone while I was sleeping. I discovered this during a staff meeting this morning.
Sam and Jack were seated on one side of the table, with Janet and Teal'c across from them. The seat across from Jack was empty since Daniel was currently expounding on the slides from the latest MALP footage. "The people of PS4-221 are reluctant to allow teams into their relics, but I believe they're mainly wary of being taken advantage of. SG-9 has made some inroads with negotiating a--"
Sam noticed Jack slipping his phone out, watched as he kept it by his thigh and dialed without looking at the screen. She covered her smirk by extending a finger across her upper lip, focused on Daniel, trying to let him know that at least one of them was listen--
"Uh... uh... I'm close. Don't stop. Please... yes. Yes... right there, oh God."
Sam blanched. Her mind flashed back to the night before, her leg hooked over Jack's hip as he thrust into her. She had been thrashing her head on the pillow, eyes closed, but she thought she'd seen a glimpse of him holding something.
"No, don't stop. Don't stop. Ung! Jack, fuck me... yes..."
Her PHONE.
She nearly ripped the pocket of her BDUs as she fought to get her phone free. Her face had gone from deathly pale to sunset pink in the space of a few seconds and her brain seemed to have forgotten how to work the pockets.
"Spank me."
"Major..." General Hammond said. It came out as more of a squeak.
Sam freed her phone and began jabbing at the buttons hard enough to make the case protest.
"Jack! Oh, Go-ho-od, Jack, yes... I'm coming..."
She managed to hit ignore and the bastard fucking phone shut up. She dropped it on the table and looked at Janet, who seemed to be trying to eat her own lips to keep from laughing out loud. Her eyes were wide, and her cheeks were glowing with a blush. Teal'c's eyebrow was raised, and Daniel seemed frozen in front of the slideshow. The clicker was limp in his hand, his eyebrows were meeting his hairline, and he looked like he was trying to form words in a language he'd never heard of.
"Ah--"
"Major--"
"That--"
"It..."
Everyone in the room spoke at once, save for Jack O'Neill. Sam slumped in her chair, eyes wide and a hand over her mouth as she tried to wrap her brain around what had just happened. Her gaze settled on Jack. Calm, collected, casual Jack who was just looking at her as if he was wondering what her problem was.
"A mission briefing is hardly the place for that sort of prank, Major Carter."
Sam's embarrassment turned to confusion, then to irritation. She remembered the feel of Jack's cock in her hand. The teasing strokes, his earlobe in her mouth, and then tucking him back into his trousers with a sigh of regret. "Too bad we have that mission briefing to get to. Rain check."
She fumed at him, and he just smiled. She pushed herself up in her seat, refusing to be embarrassed any longer (if someone would just tell her ears that so they would stop burning) and deftly picked up her phone.
"Sorry, Sir. I'll set it to silent."
"Sounds like you should have set it to vibrate," Janet murmured.
Sam shot her friend a look that would have crippled lesser women, but Janet just raised her eyebrow. She mimed putting the phone back into her pocket.
Daniel cleared his throat. "Ah... um. There's..." He turned to look at the slide to see where he'd left off. Sam typed a quick text to Jack without looking at the screen.
"Payback will be a bitch."
A few seconds later the phone buzzed and she glanced down to read his reply:
"I look forward to it."
Sam smirked and tucked her phone into her pocket where, hopefully, it wouldn't cause any further interruptions.
*
RPF, Fantasies Come True, Amanda Tapping/Teryl Rothery
(918): this lesbian fantasy crush is getting WAY out of hand. just spent an entire meeting staring at her long fingers thinking, "oh those could be fun"
It started innocently enough. During a night of too many drinks after wrapping season four, one of them got the bright idea of playing truth or dare. After learning way too much about Chris, and drawing the awe of the crowd over Rick's juggling ability, someone decided Amanda had been playing far too much of a wallflower. They pounced on her. Even Teryl, Amanda's supposed sidekick, started peppering her with "truth or dare" type questions.
She finally chose truth, and Michael asked her if she'd ever been with a woman. She was certain her cheeks gave the answer away so she told the truth. "Yes, I have."
"Whoo," Teryl said, waving a hand at her face as if she'd gotten the vapors. "I may have to watch out. I don't know if I'd be able to contain myself if you started coming on to me."
They had laughed it off, but that one spark had set off a wildfire in her mind. That night in bed, after her husband was asleep, she stared at the ceiling and considered it. She decided to visit a lesbian bar on a lark and discovered her Sam Carter hairstyle was very popular among the ladies. She was propositioned a few times, sorely tempted a few times, but she went home and chalked the whole experience up to curiosity.
A few weeks into the fifth season, a script arrived called "Rite of Passage." She was thrilled to see that the majority of the story focused on Janet and the alien teenager she'd adopted. It was a storyline she and Teryl had both fought for, so it seemed like a victory. She was a little annoyed to see that the first scene involved Jack O'Neill and Janet Fraiser in a strangely familial setting, but so long as Teryl got her due...
At the first table read, Rick mentioned there were a few changes in the script. He'd suggested to the writers that, instead of Jack, it made more sense for Janet to be celebrating Cassandra's birthday with Sam. Amanda was thrilled but tried to be professional as she read the new pages. Me and Janet, raising a kid together... that'll help the fantasies.
And by that time, the fantasies had definitely started. Originally as a threesome, but then evolving when she realized she didn't particularly want to share. She didn't want to toy with bisexuality; she wanted to dip her toe in the ocean of lesbianism. Things finally reached a head when she lost track of her part in a read-through because she was staring at Teryl's long, elegant fingers and thinking, "Oh, those could be fun."
She found Teryl at the far corner of the shoebox-sized set, in an all-purpose area that was in the midst of a redesign to look like her lab. The doors didn't close all the way, but she made do with a small handwritten "Do Not Disturb" sign stuck to the outside wall. The cast and crew knew to respect those signs. They meant that someone was either rehearsing or taking a quick nap. But if Amanda had her way, this time it would prevent a completely different kind of interruption.
It was safer on the set, dressed like Air Force Major Samantha Carter. It meant that she wasn't responsible. It was Sam, coming on to Janet. She wet her lips and summoned all her courage for what she had to say.
"Turtle," Amanda said softly. "Do you remember that night you joked about not being able to stop yourself if I came on to you?"
Teryl smiled at the use of her nickname. "Sure, Min. Why, you wanna give it a try?"
"Yes." The word was out before she could stop herself.
"Oh." Teryl looked shocked, but not offended. She blinked a few times and then laughed nervously. "Oh. Wow. I'm-I'm honored, Amanda."
Amanda's breath was ragged. "So... should we kiss?"
Teryl grinned. "Sure. We can try kissing."
Their lips just barely missed each other, and Amanda corrected. She felt Teryl's hand in her hair and tilted her head back, her lips parting just as Teryl's tongue brushed across them. It was an exploratory kiss, and Amanda kept her eyes open to make sure Teryl wasn't just doing it for her. Teryl pulled back just a bit and whispered, "Amanda? Focus on the kiss. You need to know if you like it, right?"
"Right."
"Right."
They kissed again and Amanda gave herself over to it. She felt Teryl's breasts against hers, her petite body pinned between her and the table. Teryl was still wearing her "Fraiser" uniform underneath a heavy black jacket, and Amanda stripped it away to massage Teryl's shoulders. Teryl moaned her approval and Amanda dipped her tongue in and out of Teryl's mouth.
"I think I like this," Amanda gasped as she began fumbling with Teryl's tie.
"Uh huh." Teryl was tugging the shirt out of Amanda's BDUs. She smoothed her hand over Amanda's belly, past the navel ring that only a select few people knew existed, and Amanda sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. "Okay?"
"Yes." The top three buttons of Teryl's uniform blouse was undone.
Teryl wet her lips and pushed Amanda away, just a bit, so that she could crouch in front of her. She lifted Amanda's shirt, baring her stomach, and leaned in before Amanda could ask what she was doing. Any speech died in Amanda's throat as Teryl kissed her navel, her tongue swirling and dancing with the ring. The movement sent shockwaves straight south, stoking a blaze between her legs that Amanda tried to stifle by pressing her thighs together.
Teryl had other plans. She slid her hand up the inside of Amanda's thigh, stroked the crotch of her trousers, and then began kissing her way up toward Amanda's breasts.
Amanda braced her hands on the edge of the lab table. Her eyes were closed as her best friend kissed her chest. She almost laughed as she realized that Teryl's head was entirely covered by her shirt, like some kind of bizarre mask. Then Teryl kissed her nipple through her bra and laughter wasn't possible anymore. Nothing funny about that.
Amanda somehow managed to get her trousers undone. She took Janet's hand in a gentle grip and guided it inside. Teryl's touch was gentle against her mound, and Amanda sucked in a breath as Teryl pushed her underwear aside. She moaned helplessly, and she heard what might have been a matching groan coming from under her shirt.
Teryl touched her with two fingers. Amanda stroked Teryl's hair through her shirt and rocked her hips against Teryl's hand, biting her lip as she rode her palm. Teryl brushed her clit, and Amanda let out a trembling and desperate cry. Teryl shushed her, pursing her lips against the swell of Amanda's breast as the tip of her middle finger pushed inside of her.
Amanda came quickly, clinging to Teryl like she was drowning. Teryl pressed her palm against Amanda, then began to maneuver her body upward. Amanda frowned, and then couldn't resist a laugh as Teryl's head began to squirm through the neckhole of Amanda's shirt. "What in the name... Turtle! That won't work."
"Damn," Teryl whispered. She kissed Amanda's upper chest. "That was going to be incredibly adorable."
Amanda lifted her shirt and freed Teryl, making her hair stand up at odd angles. She cupped Teryl's face and kissed her properly. When they parted, she brushed her lips over Teryl's cheek and sighed.
"Next time I'll wear a bigger shirt."
"Next time?" Teryl said.
"Well, you didn't get a turn. I owe you."
"Yes, you do. And we have the rest of this season to find little moments to... get to know each other better."
Amanda smiled.
She was suddenly looking forward to the rest of the season.
*
Sanctuary, Taking Shots, Helen/Charlotte
(717): Leave the bottle at home cause either way I'm not taking another shot. You have no idea how long it took me to compose this text free of grammatical error.
(1-717): Gold star for you, but I'm on my way and the soco is buckled in next to me. This is happening.
When Charlotte answered the door, Helen had the bottle of wine in one hand and her cell phone in the other. She looked up, admonishment in her eyes as she examined Charlotte. "I had no idea I was getting involved with such a lightweight."
"I thought you said you were bringing Southern Comfort."
"Tsk. Don't you know me better than that by now?"
Charlotte sighed. "You and your wines."
The conversation that followed took place in the foyer of Charlotte's townhouse and was comprised entirely of muttered one-syllable words. Helen's phone went into her pocket, and Charlotte took the liquor bottle and let it dangle from two fingers as Helen sucked her tongue. "Mm," Helen said. She kissed the corners of Charlotte's mouth. "You have been drinking, darling. Perhaps I should take care of the bottle myself. If you have any clean glasses left, of course."
Charlotte smiled as a plan formed in her mind. "We don't necessarily... need glasses."
Helen raised an eyebrow. "When you get that sparkle in your eye, I get worried."
Charlotte took Helen's hand and pulled her into the living room.
#
Helen kissed the tips of Charlotte's fingers, the inside of her wrist, and then nuzzled her palm. She was on her hands and knees with Charlotte standing in front of her, and Charlotte turned her hand so that the palm was facing up. She rested her fingers on Helen's bottom lip, and Helen obediently opened her mouth.
Charlotte pressed the lip of the bottle to her forearm, just under the crease of her elbow, and tilted it. The liquor was cold as it coursed down her arm, bumping over the hills of her radius and ulna to pool in her palm. She tipped the cup and the liquid flowed into Helen's mouth. It wasn't the most successful thing in the world, but Helen ignored the Southern Comfort rolling down the sides of her face and on her chin and swallowed as much as she could. She kept her eyes locked on Charlotte's as she sucked the liquor from her fingers, kissing a trail up her arm until she could nuzzle her inner elbow.
"God," Charlotte gasped.
Helen looked up at her with an evil grin.
#
"There's a bit of a dominatrix in you."
Charlotte tilted her head to the side. "You think?"
"I didn't say it was a bad thing, darling." Helen kissed Charlotte's big toe. She was lying on her back with a towel underneath her to protect the carpet. Charlotte held the bottle at an angle and then made a face. Helen anticipated her concern. "It's all right... if you spill some on me, you can just suck it up."
Charlotte poured.
The wine trickled down her calf, over her foot, down her toes, and flowed directly into Helen's mouth. Helen opened her mouth, licked Charlotte's big toe, and then sucked them into her mouth. The wine splashed onto her chest and throat, but the majority of it went right where it was supposed to. Helen closed her eyes and let the wine rain down on her as she ran her tongue between Charlotte's toes.
Charlotte shivered and brought the bottle to her lips, taking a drink for herself. "Whoo," she whispered. She shook her head and looked down at Helen as she tried to think of a new position.
#
Helen fastened her lips over Charlotte's navel and sucked the wine out. The tip of her tongue pressed into the divot and Charlotte writhed.
"Lie still."
"It tickles."
Helen grinned and licked a circle around Charlotte's belly before moving up to her chest. She took the bottle off the nightstand, took a big drink, and held the wine in her mouth before she pressed her lips to Charlotte's. They shared the mouthful of wine until it was gone, and Charlotte groaned and flicked her tongue against Helen's cheek.
"I'm going to have such a hangover tomorrow..."
"I'll write you a doctor's note."
Charlotte laughed and wrapped her arms around Helen's neck. "How much of that wine is left?"
"Oh, I think there's enough. What do you have in mind?"
She explained what she wanted to do and, as she spoke, Helen figured out the logistics. If there wasn't enough wine left in the bottle, she had a spare waiting out in the car in case of emergencies.