tielan
in
jack_built
fic: Quandary - PG-13 [Teyla, Sam, Teal'c]
TITLE: Quandary
SUMMARY: Teyla doesn't think she knows how to give advice for this problem.
CATEGORY: AU, jack_built
RATING: PG-13
TIMELINE: So, for those who are timeline nazis, we've got: 1. The Love Doctor Is In, 2. Cultural Conflicts, 3. Around The Bush, 4. Advice vs. Strategy and then this one.
NOTES: Okay. This was going to be a really short bit piece. And Teyla was going to be more helpful. But then Sam sat down and started on her story and suddenly both Teyla and myself realised that this really was a quandary! Um. So, this will probably spawn an entirely new set of stories. On top of the ones that are already spawning. ARGH.
Quandary
"You've got to help me."
That was all the warning Teyla was given before Sam Carter pushed past her into the apartment. She rubbed at her eyes, bewildered by the unexpected appearance of the other woman at her door. "I am sorry? What?"
She'd been taking a Sunday afternoon nap - much needed after Vala had dragged her out last night until four in the morning - and woken to someone banging on her door. That someone turned out to be Sam Carter, quite clearly distressed.
"Janet is not here," Teyla said. Her mind was groping for some kind of context, and all she could think of was that Sam had somehow mistaken who she was talking to. "She and Cassie have gone out for the afternoon."
Sam gave her an exasperated look. "Teyla, I did say I wanted you to help me, not Janet."
"Oh." Feeling rather stupid and still slightly groggy, Teyla closed the door behind Sam. "If you will wait a moment, I will make us both a cup of tea and you can...you can talk about...your problem."
The blonde immediately plumped herself down on a stool and fidgeted. Teyla took a deep breath, pushed off the door and went to find something to stimulate her senses into something that might reasonably resemble sanity. "Do you mind Lapsang Souchang?"
"Uh, do you have any coffee?"
Janet had instant coffee. That was about it.
So Teyla boiled water and fetched sugar and teabags and the jar of instant coffee, while her guest looked around and fiddled with the dolls that Cassie had left on the table.
"It's Jack," she blurted as Teyla set the mugs down on the table. Sam began heaping teaspoons of sugar into the mug of coffee, hardly noticing what she was doing. "Mr. O'Neill," she qualified.
It was the talk of the building. While their initial interactions had apparently involved a great deal of sniping which had given way to a mild vendetta, it seemed that an attraction had grown steadily over the last few months, culminating in them being seen eating dinner over at Murray's, although Sam had insisted that she'd just happened to meet Mr. O'Neill there and he'd offered to buy her dinner.
Considering that they had been 'sprung' four times at Murray's, having 'just happened' to meet for dinner, the residents of the building were not inclined to believe that it was pure accident that had Sam and Mr. O'Neill spending so much time in each other's company.
"Ah," Teyla said, inhaling the fragrant scent of tea and beginning to wake up. "So, you are...friends?"
Sam was poking at the joints of the doll on the table, her cheeks flushed. "I... Yes. I guess. I'm not sure, you see. Because, well, he's about eight or nine years older. I mean, it's not like he usually takes an interest in younger women - all the dates he's been seen with before have been his own age. I didn't know if he was just being nice or if he was actually interested because guys usually aren't interested. Except for Rodney, of course. Who doesn't count."
It would take someone more clever than Teyla to parse her way through Sam's speech, but she thought she had the gist of it. And there was more to this than just the question of age difference and interest, too. Because Sam had changed tenses halfway through her explanation - from I'm not sure to I didn't know.
"You have dinner together on a regular basis?"
"Well, we were for a while. Until the Hallowe'en party." The one which had occasioned a kiss with Cameron and Carolyn's displeasure. "I mean, it was just a quick kiss. Cam didn't mean it."
"Did Mr. O'Neill know that?"
"I don't know," said Sam, clearly unhappy. "But he kept on cancelling or having reasons that he couldn't go out when I called up...and so when one of my brother's friends called to see if I was free on Friday..."
Teyla had a feeling she knew where this was going. The other day, Liz had mumbled something about a strange guy in the apartment and then sworn Teyla to secrecy about it. She hadn't given it much thought - until now.
"Vala came in while I was getting ready, and she found me this outfit and told me to behave like I was someone else..." Something at which Vala excelled. "And we went out and it was...fun..."
"You slept with him," Teyla said calmly. She made an effort not to suggest she was judging Sam, but the other girl flushed and looked up.
"I was drunk. But he was interesting and funny - he made me laugh, and...and we had...I thought we had a connection..."
But the connection had vanished by the next morning as such 'connections' usually did without the addition of intoxication and the blanketing night.
"And Mr. O'Neill was coming up the stairs just as I let Pete out..." Sam moaned as she sank her head down onto the table. "Oh, God. I'll never forget his expression. He looked at me like I was dirt."
Teyla didn't sigh. In a way, Cameron's trespass had been more easy to forgive - a kiss was just a kiss, and he could make amends to Carolyn when the relationship had been previously acknowledged, even if both parties had chosen to 'take a break.'
"And you want my help?"
"I need advice."
"Do you want advice about dealing with your landlord, or about dealing with a man to whom you are attracted?"
"Attracted."
Teyla winced. "You were not officially going out, so your sex life is not his business. And since it was not official, you are not obliged to give an apology..."
"So what can I do?"
This time, Teyla sighed. "Nothing. There is nothing you can do but wait for it to...to blow over."
As the other woman's face fell, she reflected that she would not be in Sam's boots for all the world. Climbing to her feet, she crossed over to one of the side cupboards and pulled out a bottle of red wine. While Sam watched in bewilderment, Teyla poured out a glass of merlot and set it in front of her.
"Have a drink."
It was all she had to offer at this present moment.
--
Murray's was, thankfully, open of a Sunday night.
By the time Teyla had seen a slightly tipsy and somewhat teary Sam back to her apartment, she had a hankering for some solid comfort food.
The restaurant was thankfully empty of customers - on nights like these, people came and went in waves. Teyla paused at the chalked-up menu and pondered her options.
"Miss Emmagen." Mr. T. Murray's slow, easy tones washed over her, a warm reassurance in the midst of weariness. "You are hungry this evening?"
"Looking for comfort food," she explained.
"A bad day?"
"Not mine, but someone else's," she said. "She needed someone to talk to."
"And did you then listen to your friend?"
"I listened," she said with a grimace. "I wish I could say I helped. My advice...wasn't very helpful." OF course, there wasn't any helpful advice she could give Sam in her quandary regarding Mr. O'Neill. It was a coil that would not be easily untangled.
"Ah." Murray tilted his head and lifted one eyebrow. "Food can be a comfort."
She smiled. "And that is why I have come here. What do you have, tonight?"
"There is the chicken soup with rosemary - fragrant and tasty. Or, if you wish for something more robust, beef stroganoff in a red wine sauce. If you wish for heat on this cold night, perhaps you would consider the lamb Rogan Josh."
"Rogan Josh is a curry?"
"That is correct."
"Then I will have the curry, please," she said, digging out her purse.
She paid and waited with one hip on the counter as she watched the big, heavy hands ladle out the curry with graceful care. He was a big man, but he moved as lightly as a dancer. Teyla could imagine him orchestrating the making of the meal, chopping foodstuffs and moving pots and pans in a ballet of cookery. She could admire that - her own cooking skills were laughable.
"Thank you," she said, gratefully accepting the box of curry and rice and turning away towards the door.
"Teyla Emmagan." She stopped, wondering if she'd done something wrong. But Murray was smiling as he regarded her. "You are a sensible young woman. You would not give foolish advice to a friend."
The compliment made her flush. "Ah. Thanks."
"You are welcome, Miss Emmagan."
As she pushed open the door that led into the cooler lobby of the apartment block, Teyla wished she could be so assured on that count.
--
NOTES: There will be more on the Sam/Jack front. Possibly. Maybe. I don't know. It just won't be in this series where Teyla finds herself giving romantic advice to people. Probably.
SUMMARY: Teyla doesn't think she knows how to give advice for this problem.
CATEGORY: AU, jack_built
RATING: PG-13
TIMELINE: So, for those who are timeline nazis, we've got: 1. The Love Doctor Is In, 2. Cultural Conflicts, 3. Around The Bush, 4. Advice vs. Strategy and then this one.
NOTES: Okay. This was going to be a really short bit piece. And Teyla was going to be more helpful. But then Sam sat down and started on her story and suddenly both Teyla and myself realised that this really was a quandary! Um. So, this will probably spawn an entirely new set of stories. On top of the ones that are already spawning. ARGH.
Quandary
"You've got to help me."
That was all the warning Teyla was given before Sam Carter pushed past her into the apartment. She rubbed at her eyes, bewildered by the unexpected appearance of the other woman at her door. "I am sorry? What?"
She'd been taking a Sunday afternoon nap - much needed after Vala had dragged her out last night until four in the morning - and woken to someone banging on her door. That someone turned out to be Sam Carter, quite clearly distressed.
"Janet is not here," Teyla said. Her mind was groping for some kind of context, and all she could think of was that Sam had somehow mistaken who she was talking to. "She and Cassie have gone out for the afternoon."
Sam gave her an exasperated look. "Teyla, I did say I wanted you to help me, not Janet."
"Oh." Feeling rather stupid and still slightly groggy, Teyla closed the door behind Sam. "If you will wait a moment, I will make us both a cup of tea and you can...you can talk about...your problem."
The blonde immediately plumped herself down on a stool and fidgeted. Teyla took a deep breath, pushed off the door and went to find something to stimulate her senses into something that might reasonably resemble sanity. "Do you mind Lapsang Souchang?"
"Uh, do you have any coffee?"
Janet had instant coffee. That was about it.
So Teyla boiled water and fetched sugar and teabags and the jar of instant coffee, while her guest looked around and fiddled with the dolls that Cassie had left on the table.
"It's Jack," she blurted as Teyla set the mugs down on the table. Sam began heaping teaspoons of sugar into the mug of coffee, hardly noticing what she was doing. "Mr. O'Neill," she qualified.
It was the talk of the building. While their initial interactions had apparently involved a great deal of sniping which had given way to a mild vendetta, it seemed that an attraction had grown steadily over the last few months, culminating in them being seen eating dinner over at Murray's, although Sam had insisted that she'd just happened to meet Mr. O'Neill there and he'd offered to buy her dinner.
Considering that they had been 'sprung' four times at Murray's, having 'just happened' to meet for dinner, the residents of the building were not inclined to believe that it was pure accident that had Sam and Mr. O'Neill spending so much time in each other's company.
"Ah," Teyla said, inhaling the fragrant scent of tea and beginning to wake up. "So, you are...friends?"
Sam was poking at the joints of the doll on the table, her cheeks flushed. "I... Yes. I guess. I'm not sure, you see. Because, well, he's about eight or nine years older. I mean, it's not like he usually takes an interest in younger women - all the dates he's been seen with before have been his own age. I didn't know if he was just being nice or if he was actually interested because guys usually aren't interested. Except for Rodney, of course. Who doesn't count."
It would take someone more clever than Teyla to parse her way through Sam's speech, but she thought she had the gist of it. And there was more to this than just the question of age difference and interest, too. Because Sam had changed tenses halfway through her explanation - from I'm not sure to I didn't know.
"You have dinner together on a regular basis?"
"Well, we were for a while. Until the Hallowe'en party." The one which had occasioned a kiss with Cameron and Carolyn's displeasure. "I mean, it was just a quick kiss. Cam didn't mean it."
"Did Mr. O'Neill know that?"
"I don't know," said Sam, clearly unhappy. "But he kept on cancelling or having reasons that he couldn't go out when I called up...and so when one of my brother's friends called to see if I was free on Friday..."
Teyla had a feeling she knew where this was going. The other day, Liz had mumbled something about a strange guy in the apartment and then sworn Teyla to secrecy about it. She hadn't given it much thought - until now.
"Vala came in while I was getting ready, and she found me this outfit and told me to behave like I was someone else..." Something at which Vala excelled. "And we went out and it was...fun..."
"You slept with him," Teyla said calmly. She made an effort not to suggest she was judging Sam, but the other girl flushed and looked up.
"I was drunk. But he was interesting and funny - he made me laugh, and...and we had...I thought we had a connection..."
But the connection had vanished by the next morning as such 'connections' usually did without the addition of intoxication and the blanketing night.
"And Mr. O'Neill was coming up the stairs just as I let Pete out..." Sam moaned as she sank her head down onto the table. "Oh, God. I'll never forget his expression. He looked at me like I was dirt."
Teyla didn't sigh. In a way, Cameron's trespass had been more easy to forgive - a kiss was just a kiss, and he could make amends to Carolyn when the relationship had been previously acknowledged, even if both parties had chosen to 'take a break.'
"And you want my help?"
"I need advice."
"Do you want advice about dealing with your landlord, or about dealing with a man to whom you are attracted?"
"Attracted."
Teyla winced. "You were not officially going out, so your sex life is not his business. And since it was not official, you are not obliged to give an apology..."
"So what can I do?"
This time, Teyla sighed. "Nothing. There is nothing you can do but wait for it to...to blow over."
As the other woman's face fell, she reflected that she would not be in Sam's boots for all the world. Climbing to her feet, she crossed over to one of the side cupboards and pulled out a bottle of red wine. While Sam watched in bewilderment, Teyla poured out a glass of merlot and set it in front of her.
"Have a drink."
It was all she had to offer at this present moment.
--
Murray's was, thankfully, open of a Sunday night.
By the time Teyla had seen a slightly tipsy and somewhat teary Sam back to her apartment, she had a hankering for some solid comfort food.
The restaurant was thankfully empty of customers - on nights like these, people came and went in waves. Teyla paused at the chalked-up menu and pondered her options.
"Miss Emmagen." Mr. T. Murray's slow, easy tones washed over her, a warm reassurance in the midst of weariness. "You are hungry this evening?"
"Looking for comfort food," she explained.
"A bad day?"
"Not mine, but someone else's," she said. "She needed someone to talk to."
"And did you then listen to your friend?"
"I listened," she said with a grimace. "I wish I could say I helped. My advice...wasn't very helpful." OF course, there wasn't any helpful advice she could give Sam in her quandary regarding Mr. O'Neill. It was a coil that would not be easily untangled.
"Ah." Murray tilted his head and lifted one eyebrow. "Food can be a comfort."
She smiled. "And that is why I have come here. What do you have, tonight?"
"There is the chicken soup with rosemary - fragrant and tasty. Or, if you wish for something more robust, beef stroganoff in a red wine sauce. If you wish for heat on this cold night, perhaps you would consider the lamb Rogan Josh."
"Rogan Josh is a curry?"
"That is correct."
"Then I will have the curry, please," she said, digging out her purse.
She paid and waited with one hip on the counter as she watched the big, heavy hands ladle out the curry with graceful care. He was a big man, but he moved as lightly as a dancer. Teyla could imagine him orchestrating the making of the meal, chopping foodstuffs and moving pots and pans in a ballet of cookery. She could admire that - her own cooking skills were laughable.
"Thank you," she said, gratefully accepting the box of curry and rice and turning away towards the door.
"Teyla Emmagan." She stopped, wondering if she'd done something wrong. But Murray was smiling as he regarded her. "You are a sensible young woman. You would not give foolish advice to a friend."
The compliment made her flush. "Ah. Thanks."
"You are welcome, Miss Emmagan."
As she pushed open the door that led into the cooler lobby of the apartment block, Teyla wished she could be so assured on that count.
--
NOTES: There will be more on the Sam/Jack front. Possibly. Maybe. I don't know. It just won't be in this series where Teyla finds herself giving romantic advice to people. Probably.