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katcorvi - hope you enjoy!!
Fic 'Without'
Author:kellifer_fic
Webpage: Here
Pairing: friendship/ pre-ship) Sam/Jack
Rating: Mild
Notes: How about Sam/Jack, after season 4 and in a honkey tonk bar? At least one dance is involved. (Tag Meridian)
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue!
*Thanks to my beta superfox!*
There were peanut shells under foot and the smell of thousand-year-old beer and it was the fifth bar Sam had been in that was similar. She peered through the gloom and almost left when she spied a familiar figure through the throng.
She could recognize that particular slouch anywhere.
When she got near enough, she yelled “Sir!” over the loud country music and saw his back stiffen in response, right hand with the drink in it pausing on its path to his mouth.
“That better not be you, Carter,” was the growled response, pitched low but she still heard it anyway. She was used to hearing his voice over gunfire.
Tuning out a little country music was nothing.
Sam dropped into the bar stool next to him and wriggled when a piece of flaked leather skewered her. She finally settled, long legs resting on the bottom of his chair so that her left foot was against his right heel. Just the barest of touches, not even skin to skin, but she knew she was taking a huge risk.
He turned slowly and regarded her, one eyebrow raised in either a question or request to be left alone, she wasn’t quite sure with the lighting. “I’m drinking here,” he snapped. Sam canted her head and nodded once, raising a slender arm. The bartender was there in a moment.
“Whiskey, neat,” she requested.
Sam turned back to the man beside her, trouble by how he seemed to be pulling away from everyone. She watched as he dropped the shot he had into his beer and then swallowed both, barely grimacing.
Sam’s drink was set down before her and she knocked it back without preamble. “Now I’m drinking too.”
“I can’t do this right now,” he sighed, and again that voice carried to her like nothing else could.
“Too damn bad,” Sam snapped and he looked at her, eyes hard. Another shot had been placed before her and Sam rolled it across her mouth, her eyes never leaving his. “I keep trying to talk to you at the base but you dodge me. If we have to do this on your ground, so be it.”
Jack O’Neill looked haggard, and Sam hated to browbeat him, but it was killing her to see him also shut down the way he had. There was a darkness that nipped at his heels like a slathering wolf and Sam knew it had almost taken him down once already in his life. There’d been someone there to drag him back into the light that time, but that person was gone now.
She had to shoulder the weight and drive back the darkness before it swallowed him whole.
“I’m fine.” His jaw was clenched and Sam wasn’t sure if it was anger at the situation or frustration that was doing it.
“Oh right. We’re all fine. We’re all just doing dandy. Teal’c keeps going on about what an honour it is, you won’t talk about it and I feel like I’m grieving in a vacuum. We’re all pictures of health.”
Jack slammed his beer down a little too hard and Sam saw the bottom crack. The bartender looked at her with a silent question on his face and she waved a hand, indicating she was okay. He looked worried but left them be for the time being.
“What is it you want from me Carter? I can’t make this easier for you and I can’t be a shoulder to cry on. I let him go, me.”
“We all did,” Sam corrected.
Jack finally looked at her properly. Despite the numerous drinks, his gaze was steady. “You let people in, you lose them. I never wanted to…”
“Care?” Sam prompted and took Jack’s silence as affirmation. “Okay, but you did. You can’t decide not to care now. You need to help us through this and let us help you.”
“What I need is to drink more,” Jack snapped, putting a hand up to the bartender who ignored him pointedly. Jack scowled.
“I think that’s the last thing you need.” A song had started up, the kind of jangling, grating three am classic that was always playing in a bar when people felt particularly maudlin. “Dance with me.”
“What?” Jack blinked at her.
Sam slid off the stool and held out a hand. “Just do this, then I’ll leave you alone.”
Jack looked about himself as if her request were some kind of joke, and then slid off his own stool. Sam had actually been expecting him to snarl something rude and turn his back on her, not take his hand in her own and let her lead him to the dimly lit and sticky-surfaced square of tile that pretended to be a dance floor.
For a moment, Sam thought they would remain standing awkwardly by the side but then Jack’s hands went around her waist and they were moving. The movement was tiny at first but they rocked gently and his arms tightened about her as they moved further into the middle of the floor.
“It’s too hard to love people,” Jack’s voice rumbled against her neck where he’d dropped his head.
“I know it’s hard, but I wouldn’t have traded knowing him just so I wouldn’t have to deal with him being gone.” Sam said, linking her fingers behind Jack’s neck. “Just like I wouldn’t have traded knowing you every time I thought we’d lost you.”
“Whereas I regret the day you ploughed your head-strong way into my life.” Sam felt Jack’s smile against the skin of her shoulder. She slapped him lightly on the arm. “Okay, fine,” he sighed. “I’d rather live with than without.”
Sam sighed, for the first time in weeks her grief muted, just a little.
“Shutup and just dance with me,” she said.
katcorvi - hope you enjoy!! Fic 'Without'
Author:
kellifer_ficWebpage: Here
Pairing: friendship/ pre-ship) Sam/Jack
Rating: Mild
Notes: How about Sam/Jack, after season 4 and in a honkey tonk bar? At least one dance is involved. (Tag Meridian)
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue!
*Thanks to my beta superfox!*
There were peanut shells under foot and the smell of thousand-year-old beer and it was the fifth bar Sam had been in that was similar. She peered through the gloom and almost left when she spied a familiar figure through the throng.
She could recognize that particular slouch anywhere.
When she got near enough, she yelled “Sir!” over the loud country music and saw his back stiffen in response, right hand with the drink in it pausing on its path to his mouth.
“That better not be you, Carter,” was the growled response, pitched low but she still heard it anyway. She was used to hearing his voice over gunfire.
Tuning out a little country music was nothing.
Sam dropped into the bar stool next to him and wriggled when a piece of flaked leather skewered her. She finally settled, long legs resting on the bottom of his chair so that her left foot was against his right heel. Just the barest of touches, not even skin to skin, but she knew she was taking a huge risk.
He turned slowly and regarded her, one eyebrow raised in either a question or request to be left alone, she wasn’t quite sure with the lighting. “I’m drinking here,” he snapped. Sam canted her head and nodded once, raising a slender arm. The bartender was there in a moment.
“Whiskey, neat,” she requested.
Sam turned back to the man beside her, trouble by how he seemed to be pulling away from everyone. She watched as he dropped the shot he had into his beer and then swallowed both, barely grimacing.
Sam’s drink was set down before her and she knocked it back without preamble. “Now I’m drinking too.”
“I can’t do this right now,” he sighed, and again that voice carried to her like nothing else could.
“Too damn bad,” Sam snapped and he looked at her, eyes hard. Another shot had been placed before her and Sam rolled it across her mouth, her eyes never leaving his. “I keep trying to talk to you at the base but you dodge me. If we have to do this on your ground, so be it.”
Jack O’Neill looked haggard, and Sam hated to browbeat him, but it was killing her to see him also shut down the way he had. There was a darkness that nipped at his heels like a slathering wolf and Sam knew it had almost taken him down once already in his life. There’d been someone there to drag him back into the light that time, but that person was gone now.
She had to shoulder the weight and drive back the darkness before it swallowed him whole.
“I’m fine.” His jaw was clenched and Sam wasn’t sure if it was anger at the situation or frustration that was doing it.
“Oh right. We’re all fine. We’re all just doing dandy. Teal’c keeps going on about what an honour it is, you won’t talk about it and I feel like I’m grieving in a vacuum. We’re all pictures of health.”
Jack slammed his beer down a little too hard and Sam saw the bottom crack. The bartender looked at her with a silent question on his face and she waved a hand, indicating she was okay. He looked worried but left them be for the time being.
“What is it you want from me Carter? I can’t make this easier for you and I can’t be a shoulder to cry on. I let him go, me.”
“We all did,” Sam corrected.
Jack finally looked at her properly. Despite the numerous drinks, his gaze was steady. “You let people in, you lose them. I never wanted to…”
“Care?” Sam prompted and took Jack’s silence as affirmation. “Okay, but you did. You can’t decide not to care now. You need to help us through this and let us help you.”
“What I need is to drink more,” Jack snapped, putting a hand up to the bartender who ignored him pointedly. Jack scowled.
“I think that’s the last thing you need.” A song had started up, the kind of jangling, grating three am classic that was always playing in a bar when people felt particularly maudlin. “Dance with me.”
“What?” Jack blinked at her.
Sam slid off the stool and held out a hand. “Just do this, then I’ll leave you alone.”
Jack looked about himself as if her request were some kind of joke, and then slid off his own stool. Sam had actually been expecting him to snarl something rude and turn his back on her, not take his hand in her own and let her lead him to the dimly lit and sticky-surfaced square of tile that pretended to be a dance floor.
For a moment, Sam thought they would remain standing awkwardly by the side but then Jack’s hands went around her waist and they were moving. The movement was tiny at first but they rocked gently and his arms tightened about her as they moved further into the middle of the floor.
“It’s too hard to love people,” Jack’s voice rumbled against her neck where he’d dropped his head.
“I know it’s hard, but I wouldn’t have traded knowing him just so I wouldn’t have to deal with him being gone.” Sam said, linking her fingers behind Jack’s neck. “Just like I wouldn’t have traded knowing you every time I thought we’d lost you.”
“Whereas I regret the day you ploughed your head-strong way into my life.” Sam felt Jack’s smile against the skin of her shoulder. She slapped him lightly on the arm. “Okay, fine,” he sighed. “I’d rather live with than without.”
Sam sighed, for the first time in weeks her grief muted, just a little.
“Shutup and just dance with me,” she said.
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