New Stargate Fic: "Silent Synchronicity"
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: SILENT SYNCHRONICITY
AUTHOR: Rowan Darkstar
RATING: Older Kids
CATEGORIES: Angst, Sam/Pete, Romance, thoughts during "Affinity"
LENGTH: 487 words
Many thanks for the speedy and skillful beta from the lovely aurora_novarum!
ETA - AUTHOR'S NOTE: There seems to be some confusion that this fic turns into Sam/Jack. It does not. The lines in question refer to the events in "Affinity" and Sam and Pete working the case together. Sorry to disappoint.:)
SILENT SYNCHRONICITY
by
Rowan Darkstar
Copyright (c) 2010
The shift came about quietly and without color or fanfare. Sam Carter stared at the stars, listened to warm voices, paged through old photo albums, fingered treasured trinkets, and fought tears. For two weeks. She sought a sign, a revelation, something obvious and profound to clarify her blurred world.
The shift offered no such glitz or starshine. It washed in soft and natural and ultimately louder and stronger than any flash of revelation could have done.
She worked beside him, his footsteps thumping the pavement, his gaze sharp and receptive to her own.
She looked at him when he asked about pizza places and said, "Why?" without censoring her skepticism or tempering her tone.
He watched her flip out her lock pick kit and hardly blinked as nimble fingers proceeded to break and enter.
He called her at work with essential information and didn’t call her "Sweetheart" or sign off with "I love you."
He let her walk in front of him when they were both armed.
He covered her six.
He didn’t explain the crime scene like she was too blonde to be spoken to quickly. He didn’t broaden his vocabulary or complicate the simplistic because he knew she had a rather...high IQ.
She jerked him around for two weeks and nearly broke his heart with silence, then said simply, "I need your help"...and his eyes melted warm and honest and fingers grazed her shoulder.
Somewhere between "I need some time" and "Is it normal for the bad guys to vanish" Sam Carter...knew.
"Want to go for a ride?"
"With you? On your Indie?"
"I promise you, I’m a good driver."
"I have no doubt of that, Lady Starpilot."
"Ride with me."
Arms around her and a reassuring weight at her back that should have felt like baggage but felt like undiscovered freedom as they raced into the deepening night.
The word slid off her tongue without preamble or the preparation she had anticipated.
Yes.
This...this...this synchronicity that had helped bring Teal’c and Daniel home, these footsteps side by side, this comfortable and silent understanding, these synchronized movements and interlocking thoughts...this was something she did not fear.
The possibility that such companionship wouldn’t end at the close of the mission, that the connection would bleed into the journey home, the quiet at twilight, and the shadows and fears in the middle of the night...this was something...she could love.
Yes. I’m not messing with you. You’re messing with everything I’ve ever understood or wanted or known.
"This is better than a box of wine with a duck on the front."
"I can understand that."
Take me home, love me when I make sense and when I don’t. Love me when I run from you and when I run to you. Be the one. Be the one that wants nothing more of me than who I am.
Be the one.
She held on and listened to the stars.
***
TITLE: SILENT SYNCHRONICITY
AUTHOR: Rowan Darkstar
RATING: Older Kids
CATEGORIES: Angst, Sam/Pete, Romance, thoughts during "Affinity"
LENGTH: 487 words
Many thanks for the speedy and skillful beta from the lovely aurora_novarum!
ETA - AUTHOR'S NOTE: There seems to be some confusion that this fic turns into Sam/Jack. It does not. The lines in question refer to the events in "Affinity" and Sam and Pete working the case together. Sorry to disappoint.:)
SILENT SYNCHRONICITY
by
Rowan Darkstar
Copyright (c) 2010
The shift came about quietly and without color or fanfare. Sam Carter stared at the stars, listened to warm voices, paged through old photo albums, fingered treasured trinkets, and fought tears. For two weeks. She sought a sign, a revelation, something obvious and profound to clarify her blurred world.
The shift offered no such glitz or starshine. It washed in soft and natural and ultimately louder and stronger than any flash of revelation could have done.
She worked beside him, his footsteps thumping the pavement, his gaze sharp and receptive to her own.
She looked at him when he asked about pizza places and said, "Why?" without censoring her skepticism or tempering her tone.
He watched her flip out her lock pick kit and hardly blinked as nimble fingers proceeded to break and enter.
He called her at work with essential information and didn’t call her "Sweetheart" or sign off with "I love you."
He let her walk in front of him when they were both armed.
He covered her six.
He didn’t explain the crime scene like she was too blonde to be spoken to quickly. He didn’t broaden his vocabulary or complicate the simplistic because he knew she had a rather...high IQ.
She jerked him around for two weeks and nearly broke his heart with silence, then said simply, "I need your help"...and his eyes melted warm and honest and fingers grazed her shoulder.
Somewhere between "I need some time" and "Is it normal for the bad guys to vanish" Sam Carter...knew.
"Want to go for a ride?"
"With you? On your Indie?"
"I promise you, I’m a good driver."
"I have no doubt of that, Lady Starpilot."
"Ride with me."
Arms around her and a reassuring weight at her back that should have felt like baggage but felt like undiscovered freedom as they raced into the deepening night.
The word slid off her tongue without preamble or the preparation she had anticipated.
Yes.
This...this...this synchronicity that had helped bring Teal’c and Daniel home, these footsteps side by side, this comfortable and silent understanding, these synchronized movements and interlocking thoughts...this was something she did not fear.
The possibility that such companionship wouldn’t end at the close of the mission, that the connection would bleed into the journey home, the quiet at twilight, and the shadows and fears in the middle of the night...this was something...she could love.
Yes. I’m not messing with you. You’re messing with everything I’ve ever understood or wanted or known.
"This is better than a box of wine with a duck on the front."
"I can understand that."
Take me home, love me when I make sense and when I don’t. Love me when I run from you and when I run to you. Be the one. Be the one that wants nothing more of me than who I am.
Be the one.
She held on and listened to the stars.
***