Fic: In Another Light (PG) (1/1)
Title: In Another Light
Author: Divine Joker
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Post-Origin, Pre-Beachhead
Pairing: Sam/Jack
Disclaimer: They don’t belong to me. I am not making any money off of this creation.
A/N: It’s been well on two years since I wrote anything Sam/Jack worth mentioning. This here is the first in a series that highlights the first weekend that Sam and Jack make it to the cabin alone. Each story is its own, but short (+/- 1200 words) and all combine to make one whole weekend. I hope. As I always do, there’s a huge deal of this story/series that wouldn’t exist without triciabyrne1978.
As this is Part III, here are I and II:
Part I
Part II
[start]
Given the hour, he knew that they couldn’t stop to pick up groceries for the weeked, but Jack was hungry. And he wasn’t driving.
“Carter, I’m hungry,” he said, as if informing her of the situation would enlighten her to a possible remedy.
“We’re fifteen minutes from anywhere, as you well know. What do you want me to do about it?”
Jack sighed and shifted in his seat. He looked at her then, knowing that paying attention to her always distracted him from his seemingly more pressing concerns. Watching her drive the Mustang gave him exactly the type of feeling he had thought it would on purchasing it. He was met with a sense of completion and love at seeing her smile and as her fingers trailed around the old steering wheel he face was charged with a certain reverence he saw from her in very select moments. He knew that he’d witnessed a few of those moments in regards to himself as well, and it lessened the sting of having the car take most of her attention.
He bought it for that reason to begin with. She deserved it and he would do anything in his power to get her anything that she deserved. Still, he liked it when she smiled.
“Just so you know, I’m expecting you to pull over at the first Quizno’s you see.”
“Even if it’s closed?” she grinned. Mission accomplished.
“Carter, Carter, Carter,” he tsked, “Do you doubt my abilities?” He leaned in close to her, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
He grinned as she suppressed a shiver, cleared her throat and chanced a look at him. “Your ability to break and enter a sandwich shop? Not at all,” she appeased; a tone saying exactly the opposite.
He bit his lip and sighed ungraciously. “Oh, ye of little faith.”
Sam did as he had asked when she saw the sign, however, and settled the car into the completely empty parking lot with a questionable look at the entrance. The lights were all on, and she could see the employees still inside, but she looked at him doubtfully.
“You want anything?” he asked as he jumped out. He bent down to look back into the car before closing the door, casting her a long look.
“Surprise me,” she said, unlatching her own door.
He paused for a moment at the door, looking back at her as she stood in the glow of the street light. It’d been four weeks since he’d seen her, he remembered, but it never seemed to change. She never seemed to change.
The teenagers behind the counter were typically annoyed that he was there at all, let alone five minutes before closing. He remained politely oblivious to their unpleasant demeanour and rolled his head backward with a sigh. Jack glanced at the fumbling fingers of the boy making his sandwich and barely cocked his head when he heard the door open again. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam approach him, confident, calm and beautiful.
He disliked sentimentality, but there it was.
“I decided that I didn’t need any more surprises for the night, General,” she teased, completely oblivious to the connotation of her words. “Knowing you, you’d get me three or four sandwiches.”
It hadn’t crossed his mind, but thinking about it, it would have been great to see the look in her eyes.
Jack looked at the boy who’d stopped making his sandwich the moment Sam had walked in the door and turned to look at her again. She was the same as always, but he was looking at her like a drink of water on a hot day. It gave him the creeps.
Just to send the message across to him, Jack leaned down and kissed her softly, eliciting a contented smile on her lips. She hooked an arm through his and looked at the boy who was trying to stop staring.
“Can you add a small...” she paused and looked at the board for a short moment, her teeth catching her thumbnail in thought. Jack couldn’t take his eyes from her thumb. Deep inside, he quashed an urge to be that thumb. “Honey bacon club, please?”
The boy blinked and his co-worker punched him none too subtly in the arm.
“Of-of course,” he stuttered, shyly.
Jack looked at Sam again, still a little off-kilter by the reaction of the boy. She was smiling and happy, a gentle look to her eyes, and the more he looked, the more he could start to understand the boy’s reaction. It’d been a long time since Sam had stopped him in his tracks, just being herself. He wondered if he’d gotten over it or if he’d just learned to work around the reaction. Maybe he was in that permanent state and just didn’t feel it now.
But he’d reacted just like that when he’d first seen her nine and a half years ago in the briefing room at the SGC.
No, he still felt it when he saw her - more pronounced after long separations - but there was more confidence in himself as well. Then it had been a kind of awe that she had graced him with her presence; yes, he understood hero-worship and wasn’t afraid to admit to a little of his own. Now, it was a pleasant understanding that maybe he caused something of the same reaction in her. Quid pro quo, he sighed happily.
Finally with their sandwiches in hand, he held the door for her and followed her back out to the car. He watched her as she ran a reverent hand along the ridge of the hood up to the windshield. She paused at the door and watched him as he opened his own door.
Her eyes were intense even in the darkness of the night, and he felt a shiver climb up his spine. He smiled at her.
“What?” she asked, her head tipping to the side as she raised an eyebrow in question.
He pursed his lips and shrugged. “I just don’t get a lot of opportunity to look at you anymore; I’m trying to get my fill,” he said honestly. He still felt a little odd voicing a thought like that, but from the blush on her cheeks, she didn’t seem to mind. “You know, Carter,” he said, opening his door and sitting down, “I never would have pegged you for a romantic. Not even way back then.”
“No?” The engine was a little rough starting and she unconsciously patted the dashboard in consolation to the car’s rough life. “I think every woman has a romantic in them,” she confessed, glancing at him before putting the car in gear.
Jack paused and took one of her hands in his, turning it over and tracing the outline with the tip of his finger. He liked touching her like this; a no-touch rule they’d lived by so many years ago thrown out the window. She smiled, relaxing under his touch as she pulled onto the empty roadway taking the road for the last minutes until they reached the cabin.
“I don’t think you’re ‘every woman,’ Sam,” he said softly, taking a deep breath and keeping his fingers laced with hers.
[end]
Author: Divine Joker
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Post-Origin, Pre-Beachhead
Pairing: Sam/Jack
Disclaimer: They don’t belong to me. I am not making any money off of this creation.
A/N: It’s been well on two years since I wrote anything Sam/Jack worth mentioning. This here is the first in a series that highlights the first weekend that Sam and Jack make it to the cabin alone. Each story is its own, but short (+/- 1200 words) and all combine to make one whole weekend. I hope. As I always do, there’s a huge deal of this story/series that wouldn’t exist without triciabyrne1978.
As this is Part III, here are I and II:
Part I
Part II
[start]
Given the hour, he knew that they couldn’t stop to pick up groceries for the weeked, but Jack was hungry. And he wasn’t driving.
“Carter, I’m hungry,” he said, as if informing her of the situation would enlighten her to a possible remedy.
“We’re fifteen minutes from anywhere, as you well know. What do you want me to do about it?”
Jack sighed and shifted in his seat. He looked at her then, knowing that paying attention to her always distracted him from his seemingly more pressing concerns. Watching her drive the Mustang gave him exactly the type of feeling he had thought it would on purchasing it. He was met with a sense of completion and love at seeing her smile and as her fingers trailed around the old steering wheel he face was charged with a certain reverence he saw from her in very select moments. He knew that he’d witnessed a few of those moments in regards to himself as well, and it lessened the sting of having the car take most of her attention.
He bought it for that reason to begin with. She deserved it and he would do anything in his power to get her anything that she deserved. Still, he liked it when she smiled.
“Just so you know, I’m expecting you to pull over at the first Quizno’s you see.”
“Even if it’s closed?” she grinned. Mission accomplished.
“Carter, Carter, Carter,” he tsked, “Do you doubt my abilities?” He leaned in close to her, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
He grinned as she suppressed a shiver, cleared her throat and chanced a look at him. “Your ability to break and enter a sandwich shop? Not at all,” she appeased; a tone saying exactly the opposite.
He bit his lip and sighed ungraciously. “Oh, ye of little faith.”
Sam did as he had asked when she saw the sign, however, and settled the car into the completely empty parking lot with a questionable look at the entrance. The lights were all on, and she could see the employees still inside, but she looked at him doubtfully.
“You want anything?” he asked as he jumped out. He bent down to look back into the car before closing the door, casting her a long look.
“Surprise me,” she said, unlatching her own door.
He paused for a moment at the door, looking back at her as she stood in the glow of the street light. It’d been four weeks since he’d seen her, he remembered, but it never seemed to change. She never seemed to change.
The teenagers behind the counter were typically annoyed that he was there at all, let alone five minutes before closing. He remained politely oblivious to their unpleasant demeanour and rolled his head backward with a sigh. Jack glanced at the fumbling fingers of the boy making his sandwich and barely cocked his head when he heard the door open again. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam approach him, confident, calm and beautiful.
He disliked sentimentality, but there it was.
“I decided that I didn’t need any more surprises for the night, General,” she teased, completely oblivious to the connotation of her words. “Knowing you, you’d get me three or four sandwiches.”
It hadn’t crossed his mind, but thinking about it, it would have been great to see the look in her eyes.
Jack looked at the boy who’d stopped making his sandwich the moment Sam had walked in the door and turned to look at her again. She was the same as always, but he was looking at her like a drink of water on a hot day. It gave him the creeps.
Just to send the message across to him, Jack leaned down and kissed her softly, eliciting a contented smile on her lips. She hooked an arm through his and looked at the boy who was trying to stop staring.
“Can you add a small...” she paused and looked at the board for a short moment, her teeth catching her thumbnail in thought. Jack couldn’t take his eyes from her thumb. Deep inside, he quashed an urge to be that thumb. “Honey bacon club, please?”
The boy blinked and his co-worker punched him none too subtly in the arm.
“Of-of course,” he stuttered, shyly.
Jack looked at Sam again, still a little off-kilter by the reaction of the boy. She was smiling and happy, a gentle look to her eyes, and the more he looked, the more he could start to understand the boy’s reaction. It’d been a long time since Sam had stopped him in his tracks, just being herself. He wondered if he’d gotten over it or if he’d just learned to work around the reaction. Maybe he was in that permanent state and just didn’t feel it now.
But he’d reacted just like that when he’d first seen her nine and a half years ago in the briefing room at the SGC.
No, he still felt it when he saw her - more pronounced after long separations - but there was more confidence in himself as well. Then it had been a kind of awe that she had graced him with her presence; yes, he understood hero-worship and wasn’t afraid to admit to a little of his own. Now, it was a pleasant understanding that maybe he caused something of the same reaction in her. Quid pro quo, he sighed happily.
Finally with their sandwiches in hand, he held the door for her and followed her back out to the car. He watched her as she ran a reverent hand along the ridge of the hood up to the windshield. She paused at the door and watched him as he opened his own door.
Her eyes were intense even in the darkness of the night, and he felt a shiver climb up his spine. He smiled at her.
“What?” she asked, her head tipping to the side as she raised an eyebrow in question.
He pursed his lips and shrugged. “I just don’t get a lot of opportunity to look at you anymore; I’m trying to get my fill,” he said honestly. He still felt a little odd voicing a thought like that, but from the blush on her cheeks, she didn’t seem to mind. “You know, Carter,” he said, opening his door and sitting down, “I never would have pegged you for a romantic. Not even way back then.”
“No?” The engine was a little rough starting and she unconsciously patted the dashboard in consolation to the car’s rough life. “I think every woman has a romantic in them,” she confessed, glancing at him before putting the car in gear.
Jack paused and took one of her hands in his, turning it over and tracing the outline with the tip of his finger. He liked touching her like this; a no-touch rule they’d lived by so many years ago thrown out the window. She smiled, relaxing under his touch as she pulled onto the empty roadway taking the road for the last minutes until they reached the cabin.
“I don’t think you’re ‘every woman,’ Sam,” he said softly, taking a deep breath and keeping his fingers laced with hers.
[end]