100_prompts : sg1 : daniel/sam : 001/100 : prompt 026/breakable : "The First Crack"
Title: The First Crack
Author: pepsicolagurl
Fandom: Stargate SG1
Prompt: 026. Breakable
Character/Pairing: Daniel Jackson/Sam Carter
Rating: G
Word Count: 1230
Summary: How long will it be until she breaks?
Authors Notes/Disclaimer: First part of a three part collection. Takes place in Season One, sometime between "Bloodlines" and "Fire and Water".
The makeshift campfire before them crackled merrily.
"You're the type that eventually breaks."
Even though Daniel's voice was quiet, almost dreamy, she reacted like the words had been a gunshot report in the almost silent night. Her hands tightened on the semi-automatic weapon in her hands, though much more tightly that her training demanded, her knuckles turning white briefly. Her eyes narrowed, rather than widened in surprise, and she inclined her head in his direction. "Sorry," she muttered, letting the weapon fall back to her lap, hands relaxing again.
Daniel shrugged, his eyes still turned to the campfire, hands still holding his canteen loosely. "Okay."
They fell into a companionable silence, one that was more than comfortable for them. If only Colonel O'Neill knew how many times they were off-world and this would happen. She would be on watch, her senses alert and taut, despite the overwhelming need for sleep, and within an hour of her coming onto watch duty, there would be a rustling sound from one of the two tents, and his shaggy head would appear, hair falling in his tired eyes. There were a few nights that he didn't venture out to sit with her beside the fire (because there was always a fire, no matter where they were), but she still heard him turning restlessly within his tent and sleeping bag, accompanied by the occasional grunt from the Colonel, after which Daniel would calm down for a few minutes. But most nights he joined her out there, sometimes sitting on a piece of log that was pulled close to the fire, something on a flat rock, and every now and then, they would just plop themselves on the ground, knees in the air, arms wrapped around them.
They didn't always talk. Sometimes they just sat there, and when they did, it seemed that they were saying so much more than words could ever express. There was comfortableness in their silence, a friendly chemistry that sparked whenever their eyes met and those small half-smiles crossed their faces, a warmth that was better to her than any campfire. But tonight...tonight seemed different. It was like they were going to have that talk, the one that she had been dreading since they had started those late night rendezvous. This was going to be the deep, meaningful talk that was going to make them uncomfortable around each other for a few days, maybe as much as a week. He would stop coming out to sit with her while she had the night watch, and they would try to act like nothing happened, and soon enough, she knew that they would believe their acts. Things would continue like they always did, and everything would be fine until the next time it happened.
Sam sighed and looked away, trying to think of a way to cut off the conversation before it could get much further. However, she knew that she had a snowball's chance in hell of doing that.
"It's true."
She jumped again and cursed softly under her breath, so softly that he couldn't even identify what curse it was. "Jesus, Daniel. You want to stop doing that?" she snapped, throwing him a smoldering look.
He cocked a half smile in her direction and ran a hand through his hair. It did no good. The long brown strands just fell into his eyes again, giving him an endearing, almost boyish look. "If you need some sleep, I can stay up and keep an eye on the place."
With a small laugh, she shrugged her shoulders and moved to put the gun down beside her, holding out a hand for his canteen. "And have the Colonel kill us both. That sounds appealing," she teased, before removing the cap and taking a sip. She cocked an eyebrow in his direction at the taste before closing it up and handing it back. "Interesting."
"Gatorade."
"Definitely not regulation."
"But really good." Their rapid fire back and forth ended in quiet chuckles, both of them still mindful of their other two traveling companions. "I stole some from SG5. All of them carry it. They said that coffee is too much of a pain to take with them, so they just bring little packets of the mix. Great for trying to make yourself wake up."
She smiled quickly, looking down at the dirt ground beneath her combat boots. "Just don't let the Colonel find out."
He waved a hand, putting the canteen firmly on the ground between them. "Jack? I don't think he'd really care. But help yourself. Water gets boring after all. Besides, it's not like we have that much excitement in our lives."
The laugh that escaped her was a lot louder than she had anticipated, and she quickly covered her mouth with a hand, trying to muffle it. He grinned at her, blue eyes twinkling in the campfire, when a disgruntled noise and rustle came from one of the tents. She buried her face in the sleeve of her jacket and bit down on the material to quiet herself even further, while Daniel simply closed his eyes behind his large glasses and leaned back, breathing lightly.
They waited until a few minutes had passed before they finally relaxed, knowing that they weren't about to get yelled at by the leader of SG1 for being too rambunctious at the early morning hour. Finally, they settled into their usual positions, with him leaning back on his elbows, and her with her arms wrapped firmly around her knees, both of them facing the fire. "But it's okay, you know that right?" he asked her, his soft voice cutting into the silence.
She wasn't startled. Instead, she looked over at him and smiled quizzically. "What's all right?"
His shoulders moved in a shrug. "Everyone breaks eventually, Sam. It's just human nature. But you'll break more than anyone else, because you keep too much inside. It's not bad, but it's not good, either."
"I'm not made of glass, you know."
"Everything's breakable, in its own way." He stood up suddenly and brushed the dirt off the seat of his pants and off his elbows. For a moment, she had a flash of Dr. Daniel Jackson standing in a lecture hall, dressed in an old-style tweed jacket, giving a speech about Mesopotamia or something on a similar subject. She couldn't hide the amused smile, but it died soon enough when she looked up to him and saw the serious, caring look in his eyes. She had a sudden urge to swear again.
Instead, he simply rested his hand on her shoulder for a brief moment. "Just know that someone will be there to help you pick up the pieces, whether or not you want them to."
He turned away and carefully, quietly, made his way back into the tent he shared with the Colonel, closing it up behind him. She sat there for a moment and let herself be comforted by the familiar sounds of Daniel settling in for a quick nap before they would be forced to continue on as soon as the suns rose on that planet.
That comfortable feeling that she had with him seemed to be falling apart, piece by piece, like a piece of rock that was being chipped away steadily.
The makeshift campfire before her crackled merrily.
But Sam Carter was no longer merry.
Author: pepsicolagurl
Fandom: Stargate SG1
Prompt: 026. Breakable
Character/Pairing: Daniel Jackson/Sam Carter
Rating: G
Word Count: 1230
Summary: How long will it be until she breaks?
Authors Notes/Disclaimer: First part of a three part collection. Takes place in Season One, sometime between "Bloodlines" and "Fire and Water".
The makeshift campfire before them crackled merrily.
"You're the type that eventually breaks."
Even though Daniel's voice was quiet, almost dreamy, she reacted like the words had been a gunshot report in the almost silent night. Her hands tightened on the semi-automatic weapon in her hands, though much more tightly that her training demanded, her knuckles turning white briefly. Her eyes narrowed, rather than widened in surprise, and she inclined her head in his direction. "Sorry," she muttered, letting the weapon fall back to her lap, hands relaxing again.
Daniel shrugged, his eyes still turned to the campfire, hands still holding his canteen loosely. "Okay."
They fell into a companionable silence, one that was more than comfortable for them. If only Colonel O'Neill knew how many times they were off-world and this would happen. She would be on watch, her senses alert and taut, despite the overwhelming need for sleep, and within an hour of her coming onto watch duty, there would be a rustling sound from one of the two tents, and his shaggy head would appear, hair falling in his tired eyes. There were a few nights that he didn't venture out to sit with her beside the fire (because there was always a fire, no matter where they were), but she still heard him turning restlessly within his tent and sleeping bag, accompanied by the occasional grunt from the Colonel, after which Daniel would calm down for a few minutes. But most nights he joined her out there, sometimes sitting on a piece of log that was pulled close to the fire, something on a flat rock, and every now and then, they would just plop themselves on the ground, knees in the air, arms wrapped around them.
They didn't always talk. Sometimes they just sat there, and when they did, it seemed that they were saying so much more than words could ever express. There was comfortableness in their silence, a friendly chemistry that sparked whenever their eyes met and those small half-smiles crossed their faces, a warmth that was better to her than any campfire. But tonight...tonight seemed different. It was like they were going to have that talk, the one that she had been dreading since they had started those late night rendezvous. This was going to be the deep, meaningful talk that was going to make them uncomfortable around each other for a few days, maybe as much as a week. He would stop coming out to sit with her while she had the night watch, and they would try to act like nothing happened, and soon enough, she knew that they would believe their acts. Things would continue like they always did, and everything would be fine until the next time it happened.
Sam sighed and looked away, trying to think of a way to cut off the conversation before it could get much further. However, she knew that she had a snowball's chance in hell of doing that.
"It's true."
She jumped again and cursed softly under her breath, so softly that he couldn't even identify what curse it was. "Jesus, Daniel. You want to stop doing that?" she snapped, throwing him a smoldering look.
He cocked a half smile in her direction and ran a hand through his hair. It did no good. The long brown strands just fell into his eyes again, giving him an endearing, almost boyish look. "If you need some sleep, I can stay up and keep an eye on the place."
With a small laugh, she shrugged her shoulders and moved to put the gun down beside her, holding out a hand for his canteen. "And have the Colonel kill us both. That sounds appealing," she teased, before removing the cap and taking a sip. She cocked an eyebrow in his direction at the taste before closing it up and handing it back. "Interesting."
"Gatorade."
"Definitely not regulation."
"But really good." Their rapid fire back and forth ended in quiet chuckles, both of them still mindful of their other two traveling companions. "I stole some from SG5. All of them carry it. They said that coffee is too much of a pain to take with them, so they just bring little packets of the mix. Great for trying to make yourself wake up."
She smiled quickly, looking down at the dirt ground beneath her combat boots. "Just don't let the Colonel find out."
He waved a hand, putting the canteen firmly on the ground between them. "Jack? I don't think he'd really care. But help yourself. Water gets boring after all. Besides, it's not like we have that much excitement in our lives."
The laugh that escaped her was a lot louder than she had anticipated, and she quickly covered her mouth with a hand, trying to muffle it. He grinned at her, blue eyes twinkling in the campfire, when a disgruntled noise and rustle came from one of the tents. She buried her face in the sleeve of her jacket and bit down on the material to quiet herself even further, while Daniel simply closed his eyes behind his large glasses and leaned back, breathing lightly.
They waited until a few minutes had passed before they finally relaxed, knowing that they weren't about to get yelled at by the leader of SG1 for being too rambunctious at the early morning hour. Finally, they settled into their usual positions, with him leaning back on his elbows, and her with her arms wrapped firmly around her knees, both of them facing the fire. "But it's okay, you know that right?" he asked her, his soft voice cutting into the silence.
She wasn't startled. Instead, she looked over at him and smiled quizzically. "What's all right?"
His shoulders moved in a shrug. "Everyone breaks eventually, Sam. It's just human nature. But you'll break more than anyone else, because you keep too much inside. It's not bad, but it's not good, either."
"I'm not made of glass, you know."
"Everything's breakable, in its own way." He stood up suddenly and brushed the dirt off the seat of his pants and off his elbows. For a moment, she had a flash of Dr. Daniel Jackson standing in a lecture hall, dressed in an old-style tweed jacket, giving a speech about Mesopotamia or something on a similar subject. She couldn't hide the amused smile, but it died soon enough when she looked up to him and saw the serious, caring look in his eyes. She had a sudden urge to swear again.
Instead, he simply rested his hand on her shoulder for a brief moment. "Just know that someone will be there to help you pick up the pieces, whether or not you want them to."
He turned away and carefully, quietly, made his way back into the tent he shared with the Colonel, closing it up behind him. She sat there for a moment and let herself be comforted by the familiar sounds of Daniel settling in for a quick nap before they would be forced to continue on as soon as the suns rose on that planet.
That comfortable feeling that she had with him seemed to be falling apart, piece by piece, like a piece of rock that was being chipped away steadily.
The makeshift campfire before her crackled merrily.
But Sam Carter was no longer merry.