Snapshots 4: Homecoming
The fourth Snapshots vignette.
DISCLAIMER: Yeah, the SG-1 guys are all property of MGM, World Gekko Corp, and Double Secret productions. This is all in fun, no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. All other characters, ideas, etc., herein are copyrighted to the author.
TITLE: Snapshots: Homecoming
AUTHOR: Rowan Darkstar
RATING: Series is rated NC-17
ARCHIVE: Only on author's website
SPOILERS: Through "Ripple Effect"
CATEGORIES: Sam/Martouf
This is the fourth installment in a series of vignettes collectively titled "Snapshots: Some Kind of Love Story". The stories do not always fall in chronological order, but in an artistic one. Each of the vignettes can likely be read alone (to varying degrees), though taken as a whole they're meant to paint a larger picture -- of some kind of love story.
Huge beta thanks to kudra1, majorsamfan, pax89, surrealphantast, and Teddy E.
HOMECOMING
by
Rowan Darkstar
Copyright (c) 2006
They would switch in and out on random impulse as they made love. Lantesh, then Martouf, then back again. At first this felt wrong to her, almost decadent. Then one day it felt perfectly natural. And she worried that maybe her grasp on reality had slipped a cog. But in the end she accepted a new understanding. In a random moment, walking through the park across from her house, she found herself wishing Jolinar were alive...because she missed her. She wanted the connection and security.
She thought perhaps she could understand some of the changes in her father, these days. There were sides to being blended that couldn't be understood from without.
She hadn't realized with the first kiss, that she was falling in love with two beings in one. She had thought of the man's lips against her own as Martouf's. She had realized with a hard jolt one day that she was binding herself to Earthly thinking. She was kissing Lantesh as much as Martouf. Lantesh heard every word she spoke, watched every quiet glance, felt every caress. Lantesh influenced every word that passed over Martouf's lips and had equal say in each move he/they made to further the relationship.
So she had asked to speak directly to Lantesh. To look into his eyes and kiss his lips and ask him things about his past and his loves and what he saw when he looked into her eyes. Knowing Martouf was listening, and loving, all the while.
Some days she had lost perspective. It had seemed too foreign, too strange, too alien and incomprehensible. But in time, what she had labeled absurd grew into a comfortable norm. A security and a warmth. She had spooned up against Martouf on the cushion of her bed -- just napping after a grueling mission -- and she had let his body surround her; she had felt the presence of Martouf and the presence of Lantesh, and both of them had been something like home. She had slept in the shelter of their embrace.
This was a chapter of her life she hadn't expected. One trip to an alien planet, rescuing a primitive society from a glider attack, and in a split second two had become one. The most terrifying experience of her life had proven the most path-altering. She wanted to think she would love Martouf even if Jolinar were not a part of her. She wanted to think he would love her. But in the end there was no way to pull it apart. She was part of something bigger. She was wanted. And accepted. And needed.
And the draw in that had become too much to resist.
She was just back from a stint in R&D at Area 51. Martouf was just home from a mission with SG-5. She was exhausted and hungry, but they hadn't seen each other in two and a half weeks and her skin was drinking in his touch like spring water. She kissed him, clung to him, wrapped her thighs around him and remembered flashes of a hot, lavender planet with three moons and dragging her nails down his back beneath a draping tree. He looked at her like he'd never seen anything so beautiful. He smiled with the kind of peaceful joy that could only come of surviving a century of pain and oppression. This had become a kind of security for her. The knowledge he would not outgrow her, not move beyond her in a week or a month or a year. He was too old for that. Too at peace.
Her body was drowning in his touch and blurring out her thoughts.
Exhaustion settled in in the afterglow. She fell into dreams beneath the folded-back comforter, tangled in his embrace. She drifted in and out of fantasies and memories.
She felt herself sleeping in crystal caves in the warmth of Martouf's arms.
The sun set behind the distant mountains.
When she opened her eyes in the twilight shadows, she was half surprised to see her own bedroom dresser.
*****
DISCLAIMER: Yeah, the SG-1 guys are all property of MGM, World Gekko Corp, and Double Secret productions. This is all in fun, no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. All other characters, ideas, etc., herein are copyrighted to the author.
TITLE: Snapshots: Homecoming
AUTHOR: Rowan Darkstar
RATING: Series is rated NC-17
ARCHIVE: Only on author's website
SPOILERS: Through "Ripple Effect"
CATEGORIES: Sam/Martouf
This is the fourth installment in a series of vignettes collectively titled "Snapshots: Some Kind of Love Story". The stories do not always fall in chronological order, but in an artistic one. Each of the vignettes can likely be read alone (to varying degrees), though taken as a whole they're meant to paint a larger picture -- of some kind of love story.
Huge beta thanks to kudra1, majorsamfan, pax89, surrealphantast, and Teddy E.
HOMECOMING
by
Rowan Darkstar
Copyright (c) 2006
They would switch in and out on random impulse as they made love. Lantesh, then Martouf, then back again. At first this felt wrong to her, almost decadent. Then one day it felt perfectly natural. And she worried that maybe her grasp on reality had slipped a cog. But in the end she accepted a new understanding. In a random moment, walking through the park across from her house, she found herself wishing Jolinar were alive...because she missed her. She wanted the connection and security.
She thought perhaps she could understand some of the changes in her father, these days. There were sides to being blended that couldn't be understood from without.
She hadn't realized with the first kiss, that she was falling in love with two beings in one. She had thought of the man's lips against her own as Martouf's. She had realized with a hard jolt one day that she was binding herself to Earthly thinking. She was kissing Lantesh as much as Martouf. Lantesh heard every word she spoke, watched every quiet glance, felt every caress. Lantesh influenced every word that passed over Martouf's lips and had equal say in each move he/they made to further the relationship.
So she had asked to speak directly to Lantesh. To look into his eyes and kiss his lips and ask him things about his past and his loves and what he saw when he looked into her eyes. Knowing Martouf was listening, and loving, all the while.
Some days she had lost perspective. It had seemed too foreign, too strange, too alien and incomprehensible. But in time, what she had labeled absurd grew into a comfortable norm. A security and a warmth. She had spooned up against Martouf on the cushion of her bed -- just napping after a grueling mission -- and she had let his body surround her; she had felt the presence of Martouf and the presence of Lantesh, and both of them had been something like home. She had slept in the shelter of their embrace.
This was a chapter of her life she hadn't expected. One trip to an alien planet, rescuing a primitive society from a glider attack, and in a split second two had become one. The most terrifying experience of her life had proven the most path-altering. She wanted to think she would love Martouf even if Jolinar were not a part of her. She wanted to think he would love her. But in the end there was no way to pull it apart. She was part of something bigger. She was wanted. And accepted. And needed.
And the draw in that had become too much to resist.
She was just back from a stint in R&D at Area 51. Martouf was just home from a mission with SG-5. She was exhausted and hungry, but they hadn't seen each other in two and a half weeks and her skin was drinking in his touch like spring water. She kissed him, clung to him, wrapped her thighs around him and remembered flashes of a hot, lavender planet with three moons and dragging her nails down his back beneath a draping tree. He looked at her like he'd never seen anything so beautiful. He smiled with the kind of peaceful joy that could only come of surviving a century of pain and oppression. This had become a kind of security for her. The knowledge he would not outgrow her, not move beyond her in a week or a month or a year. He was too old for that. Too at peace.
Her body was drowning in his touch and blurring out her thoughts.
Exhaustion settled in in the afterglow. She fell into dreams beneath the folded-back comforter, tangled in his embrace. She drifted in and out of fantasies and memories.
She felt herself sleeping in crystal caves in the warmth of Martouf's arms.
The sun set behind the distant mountains.
When she opened her eyes in the twilight shadows, she was half surprised to see her own bedroom dresser.
*****