![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Title: Quartered
Rating/Warning: PG
Wordcount: 865
Spoilers: None
By:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kellifer_fic
Category: SG-1 (Sam/Cameron - Sam/Jack, Sam/Daniel loosely implied)
Spoilers: None
Prompt: Forrowan_d
And you said you meant it
And there's a piece of me in every single
Second of every single day
But if it's true then tell me how it got this way?
- Jack's Mannequin
~ Friend ~
“He keeps saying we’re friends,” Sam snorts, looking into her glass and realizing that it’s empty. She’s wondering just what kind of bastard would have finished her drink while she wasn’t looking.
“I could’a had any of ‘em,” Sam continues, putting a finger up to illustrate her point. She blinks at her hand blearily and sets her glass down so she can uncurl her uncooperative middle and ring fingers as well. “I mean, I’m hot right?”
“There is no right way to answer that question,” Walter says, a small tremor in his voice. He never would have thought that Samantha Carter would be a morose drunk, but then he never thought he would see Samantha Carter drunk. A tense couple of months, an SGC BBQ at Landry’s house and a fairly impressively stocked bar means Walter is cornered.
“Anyway,” Sam says, tipping back in her chair at a dangerous angle and Walter tries to surreptitiously steady it with his foot. “Who does he think he is? I could have any man here.”
Walter’s eyes dart around the room, looking for rescue. He sees Cameron Mitchell opposite, talking to a couple of marines. Daniel is sitting on a couch with Teal’c and they’re laughing at something and General O’Neill, the surprise guest of the evening, is in a far corner with Landry.
Walter realizes he’s not really sure whom Sam is talking about and that she probably wouldn’t want to continue her conversation with the target of her ire.
He knows she’d hate herself in the morning.
He sees Cameron start to scan the room so before his eyes can land on Sam, Walter shoves a shoulder under her arm and stands her up. “Air, you need air,” he says, steering her towards the balcony.
“I like air,” Sam agrees and then hiccups.
~ Sister ~
“This is Tess and this is Rebecca,” Sam introduces when Daniel opens his apartment door. “I’m sorry I had to bring them but Mark had to take Cindy to the hospital.”
Daniel steps out of the way, watching as the two small girls dart passed him and into the house. “Is everything okay?”
“She’s a little older so the pregnancy’s been hard. She was having some pain so Mark wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
“I can’t believe they’re having another one after all this time,” Daniel says. He turns and comes up short because Rebecca is standing right behind him.
“You’re handsome,” she says matter-of-factly.
“Don’t be flattered. She says that to all the boys,” Sam grins, putting her hand on Rebecca’s shoulder and steering her into the living room.
“I don’t have any small girl food,” Daniel says, looking troubled. “I can go out.”
“What, pray-tell, is small girl food?” Sam asks with a raised eyebrow and Daniel shrugs.
“I’ve never been a small girl so I don’t know.”
“You have actually, you just don’t remember it.”
“When?” Daniel asks, blinking and Sam just smiles at him.
“Read the report on four-two-four when you get to the Mountain on Monday. The one Colonel O’Neill had to rewrite.”
“Rewrite?”
“You submitted your report before we found a way to change you back. Your mission report had hearts and glitter all over it.”
“You’re making this up,” Daniel accuses, glaring.
~ Lover ~
She can see him thinking about it.
“I know you want to ask,” she says, walking fingers up his chest.
“I kinda do, but I’m not sure I actually want to know,” Cameron admits, rolling onto his side and propping his head on his folded arm, capturing her wandering hand and tucking it beneath his chin.
“I’m not going to tell you unless you ask,” Sam says, tugging her hand free and putting it on his hip. She runs a thumb along the indent and grins. “I love this part of a man’s body.”
“No changing the subject now,” Cameron scolds. “The ex-talk is inevitable.”
“Well, I didn’t actually date any of them,” Sam offers and Cameron rolls his eyes.
“That’s not saying much and you can’t dodge this by being cute with semantics.”
Sam takes one of Cameron’s hands and brings his fingers to her mouth, running her tongue across the rough edge of the callus on his index finger.
“Okay, that’s not playing fair,” Cameron whines.
“We can talk, or we can do something else,” Sam offers, smiling around the digit now clasped between her teeth.
“This subject is delayed, not forgotten,” Cameron warns, scooping an arm under Sam’s shoulders and bringing her flush against his body.
~ Fighter ~
Sam looks at her hands.
She’s lost two nails and there is bruising all over her knuckles. She has a secret love of girly movies, especially those where some tiny girl pops the bad guy in the chops right at the end. She ignores the fact that those tiny girls should have broken hands.
Sometimes you just have to go with it.
The Jaffa is getting up. Slower than before but since she’s feeling ready to collapse herself, it’s not the best news. Sam drops into a fighter’s crouch and brings her hands up again, circling slowly.
Rating/Warning: PG
Wordcount: 865
Spoilers: None
By:
kellifer_ficCategory: SG-1 (Sam/Cameron - Sam/Jack, Sam/Daniel loosely implied)
Spoilers: None
Prompt: For
rowan_d And there's a piece of me in every single
Second of every single day
But if it's true then tell me how it got this way?
- Jack's Mannequin
“He keeps saying we’re friends,” Sam snorts, looking into her glass and realizing that it’s empty. She’s wondering just what kind of bastard would have finished her drink while she wasn’t looking.
“I could’a had any of ‘em,” Sam continues, putting a finger up to illustrate her point. She blinks at her hand blearily and sets her glass down so she can uncurl her uncooperative middle and ring fingers as well. “I mean, I’m hot right?”
“There is no right way to answer that question,” Walter says, a small tremor in his voice. He never would have thought that Samantha Carter would be a morose drunk, but then he never thought he would see Samantha Carter drunk. A tense couple of months, an SGC BBQ at Landry’s house and a fairly impressively stocked bar means Walter is cornered.
“Anyway,” Sam says, tipping back in her chair at a dangerous angle and Walter tries to surreptitiously steady it with his foot. “Who does he think he is? I could have any man here.”
Walter’s eyes dart around the room, looking for rescue. He sees Cameron Mitchell opposite, talking to a couple of marines. Daniel is sitting on a couch with Teal’c and they’re laughing at something and General O’Neill, the surprise guest of the evening, is in a far corner with Landry.
Walter realizes he’s not really sure whom Sam is talking about and that she probably wouldn’t want to continue her conversation with the target of her ire.
He knows she’d hate herself in the morning.
He sees Cameron start to scan the room so before his eyes can land on Sam, Walter shoves a shoulder under her arm and stands her up. “Air, you need air,” he says, steering her towards the balcony.
“I like air,” Sam agrees and then hiccups.
“This is Tess and this is Rebecca,” Sam introduces when Daniel opens his apartment door. “I’m sorry I had to bring them but Mark had to take Cindy to the hospital.”
Daniel steps out of the way, watching as the two small girls dart passed him and into the house. “Is everything okay?”
“She’s a little older so the pregnancy’s been hard. She was having some pain so Mark wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
“I can’t believe they’re having another one after all this time,” Daniel says. He turns and comes up short because Rebecca is standing right behind him.
“You’re handsome,” she says matter-of-factly.
“Don’t be flattered. She says that to all the boys,” Sam grins, putting her hand on Rebecca’s shoulder and steering her into the living room.
“I don’t have any small girl food,” Daniel says, looking troubled. “I can go out.”
“What, pray-tell, is small girl food?” Sam asks with a raised eyebrow and Daniel shrugs.
“I’ve never been a small girl so I don’t know.”
“You have actually, you just don’t remember it.”
“When?” Daniel asks, blinking and Sam just smiles at him.
“Read the report on four-two-four when you get to the Mountain on Monday. The one Colonel O’Neill had to rewrite.”
“Rewrite?”
“You submitted your report before we found a way to change you back. Your mission report had hearts and glitter all over it.”
“You’re making this up,” Daniel accuses, glaring.
She can see him thinking about it.
“I know you want to ask,” she says, walking fingers up his chest.
“I kinda do, but I’m not sure I actually want to know,” Cameron admits, rolling onto his side and propping his head on his folded arm, capturing her wandering hand and tucking it beneath his chin.
“I’m not going to tell you unless you ask,” Sam says, tugging her hand free and putting it on his hip. She runs a thumb along the indent and grins. “I love this part of a man’s body.”
“No changing the subject now,” Cameron scolds. “The ex-talk is inevitable.”
“Well, I didn’t actually date any of them,” Sam offers and Cameron rolls his eyes.
“That’s not saying much and you can’t dodge this by being cute with semantics.”
Sam takes one of Cameron’s hands and brings his fingers to her mouth, running her tongue across the rough edge of the callus on his index finger.
“Okay, that’s not playing fair,” Cameron whines.
“We can talk, or we can do something else,” Sam offers, smiling around the digit now clasped between her teeth.
“This subject is delayed, not forgotten,” Cameron warns, scooping an arm under Sam’s shoulders and bringing her flush against his body.
Sam looks at her hands.
She’s lost two nails and there is bruising all over her knuckles. She has a secret love of girly movies, especially those where some tiny girl pops the bad guy in the chops right at the end. She ignores the fact that those tiny girls should have broken hands.
Sometimes you just have to go with it.
The Jaffa is getting up. Slower than before but since she’s feeling ready to collapse herself, it’s not the best news. Sam drops into a fighter’s crouch and brings her hands up again, circling slowly.