Writerverse Challenge 28: Walk in Someone Else's Shoes
Title: Envy, take 2
Word Count: 411
Rating: Teen
Fandom or Original: Stargate SG1
Pairings: Sam/Jack
Warnings: F-bomb alert!
Summary: Who is she, to just waltz in here with her long, pretty hair and take my place? Who is she to go around kissing people she shouldn’t be kissing?
Challenge for writerverse to rewrite a scene using a different POV from the same character (i.e. from third person to first, etc.). It turned out to be more difficult (and more fun!) than I thought. You can find the original here.
[Sam struggles to cope with the actions of her alternate self...]
The punching bag positively vibrates with anger. It’s not enough. I wail on it with every ounce of force I can muster, slamming punch after punch into the heavy, thick surface until my knuckles burn. But even the searing pain of my throbbing hands can’t distract me. I can’t get the image of my CO kissing my alternate self out of my head, and it’s killing me.
I know it’s ridiculous. She clearly initiated it, and really, the situation was truly just… weird. Maybe it wasn’t fair to expect him to know how to act in a situation that literally no one on Earth had ever experienced before. But I’m not in the mood to be fair. I draw my knee up and deliver a solid, satisfyingly painful kick to the bag.
Who is she, to just waltz in here with her long, pretty hair and take my place? Who is she to go around kissing people she shouldn’t be kissing?
That bitch.
My own memory of my CO’s kiss, the feel of his lips on mine, his hands on my body flits through my mind and my adrenaline surges; my body reacts. I slam my shoulder into the bag, lean forward, and deliver a dozen sharp jabs to bag. The tape wrapped around my hands has frayed to shreds, but I don’t care. I feel the warm rush of blood trickling down my arm. I slump down against the bag, gripping it tightly, my eyes tightly closed. Jealousy and anger war within me, nearly overwhelming me as I blink back tears of rage and frustration.
“How’s it going, Carter?” The Colonel’s voice rings out across the gym.
Fuck.
I squeeze my eyes tightly closed and take a deep breath to steady myself. With effort, I pull myself upright and square my shoulders before turning around.
“Just fine, Sir.” I feel my mask slide firmly in place.
Jack regards me calmly. “Looks like you’ve had quite a workout, Carter.” He gestures to my bleeding hands.
I tuck them behind my back defensively. It’s hard to look him in the eye, and even harder to not look at his mouth. The mouth that she had kissed. I squash the rage back down before answering. “Yes, Sir. In fact, I was just finishing” I hastily grab my towel and push past him as quickly as dignity will allow. I can’t hide my anger for long; better to leave before I say too much.
Word Count: 411
Rating: Teen
Fandom or Original: Stargate SG1
Pairings: Sam/Jack
Warnings: F-bomb alert!
Summary: Who is she, to just waltz in here with her long, pretty hair and take my place? Who is she to go around kissing people she shouldn’t be kissing?
Challenge for writerverse to rewrite a scene using a different POV from the same character (i.e. from third person to first, etc.). It turned out to be more difficult (and more fun!) than I thought. You can find the original here.
[Sam struggles to cope with the actions of her alternate self...]
The punching bag positively vibrates with anger. It’s not enough. I wail on it with every ounce of force I can muster, slamming punch after punch into the heavy, thick surface until my knuckles burn. But even the searing pain of my throbbing hands can’t distract me. I can’t get the image of my CO kissing my alternate self out of my head, and it’s killing me.
I know it’s ridiculous. She clearly initiated it, and really, the situation was truly just… weird. Maybe it wasn’t fair to expect him to know how to act in a situation that literally no one on Earth had ever experienced before. But I’m not in the mood to be fair. I draw my knee up and deliver a solid, satisfyingly painful kick to the bag.
Who is she, to just waltz in here with her long, pretty hair and take my place? Who is she to go around kissing people she shouldn’t be kissing?
That bitch.
My own memory of my CO’s kiss, the feel of his lips on mine, his hands on my body flits through my mind and my adrenaline surges; my body reacts. I slam my shoulder into the bag, lean forward, and deliver a dozen sharp jabs to bag. The tape wrapped around my hands has frayed to shreds, but I don’t care. I feel the warm rush of blood trickling down my arm. I slump down against the bag, gripping it tightly, my eyes tightly closed. Jealousy and anger war within me, nearly overwhelming me as I blink back tears of rage and frustration.
“How’s it going, Carter?” The Colonel’s voice rings out across the gym.
Fuck.
I squeeze my eyes tightly closed and take a deep breath to steady myself. With effort, I pull myself upright and square my shoulders before turning around.
“Just fine, Sir.” I feel my mask slide firmly in place.
Jack regards me calmly. “Looks like you’ve had quite a workout, Carter.” He gestures to my bleeding hands.
I tuck them behind my back defensively. It’s hard to look him in the eye, and even harder to not look at his mouth. The mouth that she had kissed. I squash the rage back down before answering. “Yes, Sir. In fact, I was just finishing” I hastily grab my towel and push past him as quickly as dignity will allow. I can’t hide my anger for long; better to leave before I say too much.