Hair Woes
Oh, hey there. Say, um, it's been almost 7 years since I last wrote a fic, let alone posted one, but, I seem to have written a little drabble this evening after it wouldn't leave me alone at work. So, ah, here it is... please be gentle... also if anyone can come up with a title...? Haha.
This isn't final, but at the same I just wanted to share it now before I never did. I feel like I reached my peak in writing 7 years ago and it's really been bringing me down of late, so now that I've actually written a few words, I needed to put it out there before I keep it to myself forever.
Title: Hair Woes
Author:
ladysilverangel
Rating: All ages
Warnings: None
Length: 800ish words
Written for: the heck of it?
Notes: I'm terrified.
"Carter, should I do something with my hair?”
Hair Woes
When the briefing was over and General O'Neill dismissed the three of them, Daniel and Teal'c were quick to stand and exit, already discussing what they might find on the next planet they visited. Sam thought she could hear them making bets as they clattered down the stairs to the control room.
She took a little while longer to leave, shuffling her papers back into a neat pile and closing the file. As she placed it on top of the folder and stood, she felt the General's eyes on her. Even without looking at him, she could usually tell when he was staring at her, be it with a thoughtful expression, intense stare, or that faraway gaze he got sometimes that made her think he was somewhere completely off world.
Glancing at him as she straightened, she could see the faraway look in his eyes, even as they followed her movement.
“Sir?” she prompted.
He took a moment, before moving, waving his hand over his hand. “Carter, should I do something with my hair?”
The question caught her completely off-guard, as many of his comments did. “Something along the lines of 'Hammond-of-Texas', sir?” she offered, gesturing to the hand still floating above his head.
“No...” he trailed off, though his lips quirked up at her joke. His hand hit the top of his head, but he didn't say anything else.
“Then what are you thinking, sir?” she asked, dropping the hand holding the file to her side and bracing herself against the briefing room table. She had no idea where this conversation was coming from, but that was one of the things she liked, loved, about Jack O'Neill.
He stayed silent a moment longer before squinting at her a little. “It's just that, y'know, Teal'c's suddenly got hair, Daniel's got stylish hair, and you...” he trailed off again, hand now gesturing to her before he caught himself. He let his hand drop to the table and used it to push himself off, standing and brushing off the BDUs he still insisted on wearing.
“What about my hair?” she asked, suddenly self conscious. She straightened, raising a hand to touch her head. It was true that she felt guilty for getting her hair done while he was frozen in Antarctica, but she'd needed to find a distraction before she went crazy worrying about him. While cleaning her office thoroughly in a bid to keep her mind off things, she'd found a long forgotten voucher that the men of SG-1 had bought her, entitling her to an assortment of “lady things”, as they had delicately put it, after a rough experience off-world. She'd laughed and stashed it away at the time, but when she found it during her cleaning fit, it had seemed like the perfect way to get away from all the people looking her at for the answer she didn't have.
Suddenly, General O'Neill's eyes finally lost the far away look and he leaned towards her, fixing her with a serious stare that made her feel so completely exposed. Reaching up, he pulled the hand away from her head and examined the golden highlights the stylist had insisted upon.
Nervously, she waited for him to finish what seemed like an assessment, his hand still holding her wrist, hardly daring to breathe in fear of breaking the spell that seemed to descend over them. She could feel the skin where he held her tingling and she was worried he could feel her blood thundering through her veins.
Finally his eyes met hers and for the tiniest of moments, if she hadn't known better, she could have sworn the entire universe was in his gaze.
However the moment was broken by the clatter of someone coming up the stairs behind her and he automatically dropped her wrist. His eyes looked beyond her to the stairs and for a heartbeat, she felt alone.
Pulling her folder to her chest, she crossed her arms and made to leave the room, not wanting to wonder what could have happened if that moment had been extended, but knowing it was all she was going to think about until she quietly went home to her ever trying boyfriend, Pete.
“Carter!” his voice pulled her out of her head and she turned to look at him, hoping her cheeks weren't burning red.
He gestured vaguely to her hair, even as Sgt Harriman approached him. “It's... nice,” was all he said.
“Thank you, sir,” she replied automatically. “Not sure the 'Hammond-of-Texas' would have suited me quite as much.”
Catching a glimpse of his smile as she turned away, she grinned, ducking her head and leaving it in the room.
This isn't final, but at the same I just wanted to share it now before I never did. I feel like I reached my peak in writing 7 years ago and it's really been bringing me down of late, so now that I've actually written a few words, I needed to put it out there before I keep it to myself forever.
Title: Hair Woes
Author:
ladysilverangel
Rating: All ages
Warnings: None
Length: 800ish words
Written for: the heck of it?
Notes: I'm terrified.
"Carter, should I do something with my hair?”
Hair Woes
When the briefing was over and General O'Neill dismissed the three of them, Daniel and Teal'c were quick to stand and exit, already discussing what they might find on the next planet they visited. Sam thought she could hear them making bets as they clattered down the stairs to the control room.
She took a little while longer to leave, shuffling her papers back into a neat pile and closing the file. As she placed it on top of the folder and stood, she felt the General's eyes on her. Even without looking at him, she could usually tell when he was staring at her, be it with a thoughtful expression, intense stare, or that faraway gaze he got sometimes that made her think he was somewhere completely off world.
Glancing at him as she straightened, she could see the faraway look in his eyes, even as they followed her movement.
“Sir?” she prompted.
He took a moment, before moving, waving his hand over his hand. “Carter, should I do something with my hair?”
The question caught her completely off-guard, as many of his comments did. “Something along the lines of 'Hammond-of-Texas', sir?” she offered, gesturing to the hand still floating above his head.
“No...” he trailed off, though his lips quirked up at her joke. His hand hit the top of his head, but he didn't say anything else.
“Then what are you thinking, sir?” she asked, dropping the hand holding the file to her side and bracing herself against the briefing room table. She had no idea where this conversation was coming from, but that was one of the things she liked, loved, about Jack O'Neill.
He stayed silent a moment longer before squinting at her a little. “It's just that, y'know, Teal'c's suddenly got hair, Daniel's got stylish hair, and you...” he trailed off again, hand now gesturing to her before he caught himself. He let his hand drop to the table and used it to push himself off, standing and brushing off the BDUs he still insisted on wearing.
“What about my hair?” she asked, suddenly self conscious. She straightened, raising a hand to touch her head. It was true that she felt guilty for getting her hair done while he was frozen in Antarctica, but she'd needed to find a distraction before she went crazy worrying about him. While cleaning her office thoroughly in a bid to keep her mind off things, she'd found a long forgotten voucher that the men of SG-1 had bought her, entitling her to an assortment of “lady things”, as they had delicately put it, after a rough experience off-world. She'd laughed and stashed it away at the time, but when she found it during her cleaning fit, it had seemed like the perfect way to get away from all the people looking her at for the answer she didn't have.
Suddenly, General O'Neill's eyes finally lost the far away look and he leaned towards her, fixing her with a serious stare that made her feel so completely exposed. Reaching up, he pulled the hand away from her head and examined the golden highlights the stylist had insisted upon.
Nervously, she waited for him to finish what seemed like an assessment, his hand still holding her wrist, hardly daring to breathe in fear of breaking the spell that seemed to descend over them. She could feel the skin where he held her tingling and she was worried he could feel her blood thundering through her veins.
Finally his eyes met hers and for the tiniest of moments, if she hadn't known better, she could have sworn the entire universe was in his gaze.
However the moment was broken by the clatter of someone coming up the stairs behind her and he automatically dropped her wrist. His eyes looked beyond her to the stairs and for a heartbeat, she felt alone.
Pulling her folder to her chest, she crossed her arms and made to leave the room, not wanting to wonder what could have happened if that moment had been extended, but knowing it was all she was going to think about until she quietly went home to her ever trying boyfriend, Pete.
“Carter!” his voice pulled her out of her head and she turned to look at him, hoping her cheeks weren't burning red.
He gestured vaguely to her hair, even as Sgt Harriman approached him. “It's... nice,” was all he said.
“Thank you, sir,” she replied automatically. “Not sure the 'Hammond-of-Texas' would have suited me quite as much.”
Catching a glimpse of his smile as she turned away, she grinned, ducking her head and leaving it in the room.