Author: A. Karswyll
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Rated: M
Words: 1,850
Summary: Lt. General Jack O'Neill finds out, after his wife leaves for her morning run, that it is October the 14th and that means it is National Dessert Day! He just didn't expect his innocent attempt to celebrate the day to go down the path it does.
AN: Er, it moved from fluff, to sap, to smut. Don't ask me how, take it up with my three muses—a seal, a penguin, and a polar bear. I swear, they must be handing me off to each other while I'm writing like author-hot-potato or something.
Season 15
14 October 2011
Jack rolled over in bed, groping blindly for the warm body that should be beside him. Feeling nothing but rumpled sheets and the far of the edge of the mattress his head popped-up off his pillow and he squinted around the bedroom. Pale sunlight was just creeping through the large window, illuminating the many pictures and framed medals and awards hung on the walls—his and hers—but the warm body he was looking for wasn't in sight.
Cracking a big yawn he sat up in bed. Hearing running water on his left he looked towards the ensuite bathroom and saw that the door was closed, which answered the question of where his wife was.
Swinging his feet over the mattress, he set them onto the carpet and stood up. Rolling his neck and shoulders, Jack listening to the crackles of protest his body made and scratched his nails through his short hair.
"Good morning," Sam said cheerily as she stepped out of the bathroom in running sweats and tight jogging top, her long brown-dyed hair tightly restrained in a ponytail.
"Morning," Jack rumbled in return. "Going for a run this morning?"
Sam nodded. "Just for an hour."
"M'kay, enjoy yourself. Watch out for traffic," Jack cautioned as he habitably did. Not that Sam couldn't handle D.C. as she kept up her fitness schedule whenever she was in town with him, but it would just be ridiculous for her to get hurt while running for exercise and not running from perusing aliens. "Want breakfast when you get back?"
"Sure, I'd enjoy it." Sam crossed to her dresser and picked up her cell phone that had been sitting on top. Slipping it into her back pocket, she rounded the bed and brushed a kiss against his mouth. "See you in an hour."
Jack absently nodded and watched as she disappeared down the staircase with her ponytail bouncing. He did regret not being able to go with her but it had been years since his knees had been in good enough shape for running. So it looked like he'd stick to the swimming to try and keep himself somewhat fit. He grimaced at that thought and got his butt moving. He'd promised Sam breakfast after all.
After finishing in the bathroom and dressing for work, he made his way downstairs. His knees creaked and he wondered, not for the first time sadly in his six years of living in the townhouse, how much longer he'd be able to manage them without too much pain.
Finding the local classical music station on the radio, his eyes landed on his calendar. It was Friday, October the fourteenth. And there, written on the otherwise innocent white square were three words: National Dessert Day.
Score!
Jack grinned as he draped his Class A jacket and tie over a kitchen chair. Now what dessert should he tempt Sam with when she got back? Rummaging through the cupboards and pantry for the breakfast pancake ingredients he thought it over. Well, jell-o was her favourite dessert—even if she did like the blue—so a jell-o concoction would be good.
Squinting at the bag of pretzels he wondered how they'd gotten on the shelf beside the flours and rolled-oats and other baking things. The pretzels should be on the shelf with the chips and crackers.
Wait.
Pretzels?
Didn't Cassie make a dessert with pretzels and jell-o? Pulling his head out of the pantry, he went to the kitchen counter and pulled open one of the drawers to reveal the clutter of cooking books and recipes on sheets of loose paper and torn from magazines.
Sorting through the loose recipes, he sorted out the ones in Cassie's writing, from the big looping letters of when she was first learning to write English to the clean and easy to read writing that she wrote in now.
Ah, there it was, Pretzle Jello Dessert. The spelling and loopy letters made it clear it was one of Cassie's earlier culinary discoveries.
Jack stuffed the other recipes back into the clutter and shut the drawer. Reading the recipe over, he saw that the pretzel crumb crust would take only ten minutes to bake, the cream cheese spread for the middle would only take a few minutes to mix, but it was the settling of the jell-o topping that would take hours.
Checking the time, he saw that there was no way even with using ice water to set the jell-o quickly that it would be ready to eat when Sam got back, but it would be definitely ready for dinner after work. And there would be enough time to get breakfast ready too after making it.
Setting the recipe on the counter, he got out two mixing bowl, the baking dish, electric beaters, kettle, and a few spatulas. In the fridge he found a stick of butter, cream cheese, and the tub of whipping cream. He walked back to the pantry and grabbed the bag of pretzels, found the sugar, and stood there looking over their two dozen boxes of jell-o.
Hum... well the recipe called for two packages, so with a shrug Jack grabbed two boxes of jell-o: one blue, one red.
Jack put the kettle to boil and whistling along with Bach, crushed the pretzels. Then he reached for the butter, mixed it in with some sugar, and spread the mix into the baking pan and popped it into the oven.
Wiping out the bowl, he dropped the full block of cream cheese in, added more sugar, and turned on the beater. Cream cheese splattered against the bowl.
"Whoops," Jack turned off the beater and checked to make sure there was no white splatters on his work clothes. Seeing none, he turned the beater back on at a slower speed. After mixing the cream cheese and sugar together, he beat in the whipped topping and set the bowl aside for later.
He grabbed the second bowl and poured in hot water from the kettle. Mixing the blue jell-o with the hot water first he stirred until everything was dissolved and added the red jell-o, and he was pleased when it all turned purple.
Jack figured if it was purple Sam wouldn't bug him about it being strawberry red which was what the recipe called for—and only went to show that red was better—or about him eating blue if he made it just blue for her. Putting the bowl of jell-o into the fridge to chill, the oven timer went and he pulled out the pretzel crust and set it on a rack to cool.
Dessert prepared but not together yet, he got down to making his homemade pancakes. The mix only took a few minutes to prepare so he turned back to the dessert.
Touching the the pretzel crust, he found it cool enough. He spread the cream cheese and whipped topping middle over the crust and then put the pan next to the still chilling bowl of purple jell-o in the fridge.
Turning back to making breakfast, the first pancake was on the skillet browning nicely when he heard the key in the door. Leaning back from the stove a bit, Jack looked from the kitchen across the open living room, and watched Sam appear in the living room from the entrance way. She was an enticing sight, all bright-eyed and cheeks rosy from her run with wisps of her hair escaping from her ponytail.
"Mmm, something smells good."
Jack smiled and waved the flipper at the stove. "First pancake is almost ready."
Crossing to him, she peered over his shoulder as he flipped the first pancake over. "Looking good. We got any of that cherry syrup left?"
"Should be in the fridge," Jack nodded at the appliance. When she turned her back to him, his eyes landed firmly on her very nicely rounded rear as she open the door. Said rounded rear paused, and then her attractive backside straightened, and she cast a look at him over her shoulder with eyebrow raised.
"Jack? What's in the fridge?"
"Dessert."
"Dessert? We haven't even had breakfast yet and you're making dessert?" Sam was exasperated as she took the syrup from the fridge and shut the door. "What about what your doctor said last week?"
Jack flipped out the pancake onto a waiting plate. His mood souring a bit he said in irritation, "I know what the doctor said. I was there." Holding her gaze and seeing the worry in her eyes, he then sighed and turning his attention back to the stove poured more batter into the skillet. "I know what he said and I am going to do better Sam. It's just, today is National Dessert Day."
"Oh." Sam was quiet then and all he heard was the syrup bottle being put down on the table.
He started a little when he felt Sam press up against him from behind, her hands curving around his thickened waist to link in front, as her head pressed against his shoulder.
"Did I ever tell you thank you?" she said softly against his shirt.
Jack felt his irritation give way to confusion as he self-consciously poked at the pancake. "Thank me for what?"
"For all those silly holidays you had us celebrate as a team."
"They weren't silly," he grumbled.
She squeezed his waist. "Yes, some of them were very silly. But some days, God, it was only you that got us... got me though. So... thank you. Thank you."
Jack felt the back of his neck heat and redden. He groped for something to say and finally settled on a gruff, "You're welcome."
"Turn off the stove please?"
"But the pancakes aren't done," Jack protested with a frown.
"I know, still, turn off the stove please."
Puzzled, he did as asked and turned the stove off. Sam unlinked her hands, and then grabbing his shirt, she pulled him around so that she was leaning against his front and looking him in the eye. Giving him a slow, soft smile her hands let go of his shirt and slid up, cupping his face as she raised her lips to his.
The kiss was gentle and intimate, a soft burn of leashed passion.
"Well, we should celebrate the holiday then Jack," the words whispered over lips, "but I think I can keep the doctor's orders in mind for more... activity, so that you can eat your dessert and I can enjoy my own dessert."
Jack felt his heart jolt hard at hearing how she rolled that word over. As his blood thickened and arousal stirred he had to clear his throat twice before he could say anything, and even then his voice was not really his. "H-how?"
Sam's blue eyes gleamed wickedly and made his blood pound hard.
"Oh, I think you know how."
Feeling one of her hands slide from his chin, down over his chest and venture low Jack decided that unlike the past fourteen years this holiday from this day forth, was only going to be celebrated in one way from now on.
With dessert.
-FINISHED
AN2: If interest in the dessert the full recipe can be found at www-dot-tasteofhome-dot-com/recipes/Pretzel-Jello-Dessert
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