Title: Beautiful Day
Author: A. Karswyll
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Rated: K
Words: 779
Summary: Jack O'Neill always makes an effort to find beautiful things on November 20th and he is helped in that regard by some special off-world phenomena and a smile.
AN: Thank you fems for the lightning fast beta on this one!
Season 3
20 November 1999
Jack plopped down among the fragrant grasses—the smell made him think sweet grass—on the hillside bathed in sunlight in the midst of his three teammates. He looked out across the valley below with its picturesque collection of thatched roof homes surrounded by fields in summer growth.
Quite a pretty sight and he had to admit that today he was all too ready to look for beautiful things. November 20th was all about beautiful sights, sounds, and smells and today had been that. Really, what was more beautiful than traveling through a giant alien transportation system to a friendly alien world?
In the valley below there were some of the tunic wearing men and skirt clad women moving about, but a fair number of them were spread out on the hillside with him and his team. Some had come with blankets and with baskets of food and the young village children ran about with free abandon between the clutches of people.
"So," Jack looked up into the blue sky with its white wisps of clouds and the sun high on the horizon, "when's this... thing going to start?"
"I'm not sure," Daniel spoke up, "and the village krivs—that is, the priest—didn't say there was an exact time for the phenomenon the natives describe. What he said was that their god Diviriks sends what they call 'messenger clouds' which I am assuming are certain cloud formations as they practice aeromancy which is sky, or cloud, divination. The krivs said that when Diviriks is especially pleased with them the god 'sets the clouds on fire with his blessing.'"
"And we aren't a little bit worried about the 'sets on fire' part?" Jack looked to his left at Daniel and Teal'c.
"Well," Daniel pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "it sounds, from the krivs's description, like it is in the sky and they celebrate seeing it when it comes. And look around, do these people look like they are worried about whatever sight we may see today in the sky?"
"Yeah well, we've run into people who get in the festive mood every time they're about to rip out hearts and lop off heads too," Jack pointed out as he waved a hand at the picnicking natives.
Daniel made a face at that.
"And what about the detail of their 'god' sending messengers? We aren't a little concerned about that either? Especially as you can't tell us anything about this Dive-rinks guy. And neither can Teal'c."
Daniel huffed. "Do you have to be so pessimistic about everything?"
"It's my job," Jack said lazily as he stretched out his legs and leaned back and propped himself up on his elbows as he looked straight up into the sky. "Whoa!"
He shot bolt upright again as he stared in amazement at the beautiful sight overhead. The white wisps of clouds had turned into a brilliant canvas of colours and become a huge rainbow that hung like a sheet of ribbons in the sky.
"Afit aat'petch't," Teal'c said, the tone of his voice hushed and reverent.
"That means, uh... 'fire rainbow,'" Daniel translated, his voice as quiet and amazed.
Well, Jack thought, it was a rainbow and it certainly had set the sky on fire with colour! "Carter? What the heck kinda rainbow is it?"
"It uh, isn't a rainbow Sir."
Jack took his eyes off the rainbow and looked to his right to give her an incredulous look. "Not a rainbow? It's got red, orange, yellow, blue, green, and the purples—it certainly looks like one to me!"
"I mean, while yes we are seeing the full visible spectrum of light, it isn't coming from light being refracted while entering a droplet of water," Carter explained.
"You know that we're seeing Sam?" Daniel asked eagerly.
"Actually, I do. It's an atmospheric phenomenon known as a circumhorizontal arc. Circumhorizontal arcs appear when the sun is higher than fifty-eight degrees above the horizon and its light passes through diaphanous, high-altitude cirrus clouds made up of hexagonal plate crystals. Now—"
"Akh, Carter," Jack interrupted as he reached over and pulled on her sleeve. "Enough with the science lesson! Please, just... lie back and enjoy."
"Yes Sir," she gave a smile as she lay back among the fragrant grass to look up at the sky.
Jack followed suit and relaxed back into the grass. He tucked his hands beneath his head and gazed up at the rainbow that was spread all across the clouds, his eyes on the array of colours as his mind dwelled on the light of Carter's smile.
It was a very Beautiful Day.
-FINISHED
For more information on the phenomena witnessed by SG-1 visit news.nationalgeographic.com news/2006/06/060619-rainbow-fire.html
"Clean Out Your Fridge Day" [drabble, Jack & Sam, K]
Title: Clean Out Your Fridge Day
Author: A. Karswyll
Fandom: Stargate: SG-1
Rated: K
Words: 1,178
Summary: Engaged in of one his least favourite holiday on November 15th, Jack had hoped to get it over and done with before Carter, Teal'c, and Jonas get to his house for team movie night.
Season 6
15 November 2002
Jack held his breath and peered into the bowels of the beast. Spying another transformed creature he gingerly reaching in and, holding it by the very tips of his fingers, drew it out. Holding the offensive thing at arm's length he deposited it directly into the garbage and not onto the counter cluttered with things already taken from the beast.
He reached into the beast again and—brrriiinnng—he jolted at the sound of his doorbell and knocked his head on the shelf and cursed at the flash of pain. Jack rubbed at his forehead as he pulled his head out of the refrigerator and bellowed in annoyance, "It's open! Come in!"
Sticking his head back into his fridge he could hear his front door open and close, and approaching footsteps, even though sound was muffled by the barrier of the open fridge door.
"Um..." his unexpected visitor trailed off, "um, Sir?"
Jack leaned back, to look around the open fridge door, with a Chinese takeout carton in his hand and looked up at Carter. She looked rather surprised and unsure as she stood in the entrance to his kitchen holding four boxes of pizza and two shopping bags hanging from her hands.
Surprised at seeing her himself, Jack twisted his wrist around to look at his watch. It was time for movie night already? Crap, it was. A touch sheepish he got up off the floor in front of his fridge. "Sorry, Carter, I thought I'd have this done before you guys got here."
Eyeing him, and the countertop cluttered with things from his fridge, Carter cautiously pushed things around to make room for the pizza boxes and drinks and snacks on the counter. "What are you doing?"
"Cleaning out my fridge of course." Jack checked the interior of the takeout carton, and finding it empty except for a few noodles clinging to the sides, tossed the carton.
"I can see that, but... why now?"
"'Cause it's the 15th."
"What does the 15th have to do with anything?"
"It's Clean Out Your Refrigerator Day," Jack pointed at his calendar pinned to his kitchen wall.
"Ah, one of your days is it Sir?" Carter said with a twinkle in her blue eyes.
"They aren't my days," Jack said indignant, "they're real holidays."
"Yes Sir," she agreed dutifully.
"Watch your tone Carter," he waggled a finger at her.
"Sir, yes Sir," Carter said in the perfect respectful subordinate voice of hers.
Jack rolled his eyes and didn't even know why he bothered. He'd yet to meet anyone who could beat Carter at playing the innocent-subordinate-who-was-really-mocking-you card. It was those blue eyes, and that smile, you could never believe she could be that devious.
She poked at some of the items on the counter. "So, any ideas why today is the day you clean out your fridge?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, why now, in November? Why not in the spring or something with spring cleaning?"
He shrugged and turned his attention back to his refrigerator. "No idea. I always thought it had to do with Thanksgiving, you know? Making room for all the leftovers you have afterwards."
Carter made a sound that could be agreement—or it was just a sound to say she was listening—as she shuffled the items on his countertop around with clinking noises. "Ugh, is this a piece of cake from your birthday last month?"
"What? No, of course not," he pulled his head out of the fridge again and glanced over his shoulder at her. "The cake didn't even make into the fridge."
"Ah, that sounds more likely," she agreed cheekily as more countertop items moved. "Don't know why I'd think cake would last that long around you."
Jack shook his head and turned back to his task. The tomatoes were still good but the lettuce had gone all limp and slimy so he tossed the package.
Ah, there's where it had gone, he thought with satisfaction as from behind the nearly empty pickle jar he pulled out the ceramic figurine, tucked against the back of the fridge. Juggling the tomatoes, figurine, and jar he moved to the counter and set them down with the other items that were to go back in the fridge.
Carter cocked her head at him and pointed to the ceramic figurine. "I've been meaning to ask. Why do you keep a ceramic frog in your fridge? We never know what to do with it when we've, ah, had to clean out your fridge for you."
"You mean you don't have one in your fridge?"
"A ceramic frog?" Carter gave him a strange look. "No Sir."
"I don't mean a frog, but something with baking soda in it?"
"Is that what that stuff is?" she asked as she poked at the white mass visible in the frog's wide open mouth.
"Yes, that 'stuff' is baking soda."
"Seems a rather, er... strange way to store baking soda. Doesn't it go bad exposed in the fridge like that?"
Jack shook his head. "It isn't for storage Carter. You mean your mom didn't keep baking soda in the fridge to help keep the fridge smelling clean?"
Carter looked a bit surprised, and after a moment, shook her head. "No."
"Ah well, mine did," Jack said with a shrug as tapped the ceramic head of the frog. "Lots of people just used the open boxes I think, but we always used stuff like this frog."
"Huh."
"Huh what?"
"Actually Sir, I never gave it much thought, but your fridge always did smell... better than one would expect considering what was spoiled when we had to clean it out."
Jack couldn't help but quirking a grin at her at that. He could well imagine what his leftovers, and just the regular food, had mutated into when stranded off-world, having a bit of experience in seeing what happened when the whole team got stranded off-world for a bit and no one was around to clean out their fridges.
Brrriiinnng!
Well, Jack thought as he looked around his still disorderly kitchen, sounded like the rest of the team was here. "Door's open! Come in!"
His front door opened and closed again and shortly two aliens were standing in the entrance to his kitchen. Both raised their eyebrows at the clutter though it was, typically, Jonas who openly looked surprised and not Teal'c.
"Hi guys, go ahead and put movies by the TV and then come help Carter with the pizza," he waved them towards the living room. As the wide-eyed Jones trailed after Teal'c, he was struck by an idea. Leaning towards Carter he said quietly, "Pst, Carter? When I was stuck with Maybourne a couple weeks back, who cleaned out my fridge?"
"Um," Carter flushed a bit, "I did."
"Jonas didn't help?"
"Ah, no Sir," she said warily. "It was just me."
"Excellent," Jack grinned deviously and rubbed his hands together. Raising his voice he called out, "Hey, Jonas! You want to partake in a traditional Earth activity?"
-FINISHED
Author: A. Karswyll
Fandom: Stargate: SG-1
Rated: K
Words: 1,178
Summary: Engaged in of one his least favourite holiday on November 15th, Jack had hoped to get it over and done with before Carter, Teal'c, and Jonas get to his house for team movie night.
Season 6
15 November 2002
Jack held his breath and peered into the bowels of the beast. Spying another transformed creature he gingerly reaching in and, holding it by the very tips of his fingers, drew it out. Holding the offensive thing at arm's length he deposited it directly into the garbage and not onto the counter cluttered with things already taken from the beast.
He reached into the beast again and—brrriiinnng—he jolted at the sound of his doorbell and knocked his head on the shelf and cursed at the flash of pain. Jack rubbed at his forehead as he pulled his head out of the refrigerator and bellowed in annoyance, "It's open! Come in!"
Sticking his head back into his fridge he could hear his front door open and close, and approaching footsteps, even though sound was muffled by the barrier of the open fridge door.
"Um..." his unexpected visitor trailed off, "um, Sir?"
Jack leaned back, to look around the open fridge door, with a Chinese takeout carton in his hand and looked up at Carter. She looked rather surprised and unsure as she stood in the entrance to his kitchen holding four boxes of pizza and two shopping bags hanging from her hands.
Surprised at seeing her himself, Jack twisted his wrist around to look at his watch. It was time for movie night already? Crap, it was. A touch sheepish he got up off the floor in front of his fridge. "Sorry, Carter, I thought I'd have this done before you guys got here."
Eyeing him, and the countertop cluttered with things from his fridge, Carter cautiously pushed things around to make room for the pizza boxes and drinks and snacks on the counter. "What are you doing?"
"Cleaning out my fridge of course." Jack checked the interior of the takeout carton, and finding it empty except for a few noodles clinging to the sides, tossed the carton.
"I can see that, but... why now?"
"'Cause it's the 15th."
"What does the 15th have to do with anything?"
"It's Clean Out Your Refrigerator Day," Jack pointed at his calendar pinned to his kitchen wall.
"Ah, one of your days is it Sir?" Carter said with a twinkle in her blue eyes.
"They aren't my days," Jack said indignant, "they're real holidays."
"Yes Sir," she agreed dutifully.
"Watch your tone Carter," he waggled a finger at her.
"Sir, yes Sir," Carter said in the perfect respectful subordinate voice of hers.
Jack rolled his eyes and didn't even know why he bothered. He'd yet to meet anyone who could beat Carter at playing the innocent-subordinate-who-was-really-mocking-you card. It was those blue eyes, and that smile, you could never believe she could be that devious.
She poked at some of the items on the counter. "So, any ideas why today is the day you clean out your fridge?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, why now, in November? Why not in the spring or something with spring cleaning?"
He shrugged and turned his attention back to his refrigerator. "No idea. I always thought it had to do with Thanksgiving, you know? Making room for all the leftovers you have afterwards."
Carter made a sound that could be agreement—or it was just a sound to say she was listening—as she shuffled the items on his countertop around with clinking noises. "Ugh, is this a piece of cake from your birthday last month?"
"What? No, of course not," he pulled his head out of the fridge again and glanced over his shoulder at her. "The cake didn't even make into the fridge."
"Ah, that sounds more likely," she agreed cheekily as more countertop items moved. "Don't know why I'd think cake would last that long around you."
Jack shook his head and turned back to his task. The tomatoes were still good but the lettuce had gone all limp and slimy so he tossed the package.
Ah, there's where it had gone, he thought with satisfaction as from behind the nearly empty pickle jar he pulled out the ceramic figurine, tucked against the back of the fridge. Juggling the tomatoes, figurine, and jar he moved to the counter and set them down with the other items that were to go back in the fridge.
Carter cocked her head at him and pointed to the ceramic figurine. "I've been meaning to ask. Why do you keep a ceramic frog in your fridge? We never know what to do with it when we've, ah, had to clean out your fridge for you."
"You mean you don't have one in your fridge?"
"A ceramic frog?" Carter gave him a strange look. "No Sir."
"I don't mean a frog, but something with baking soda in it?"
"Is that what that stuff is?" she asked as she poked at the white mass visible in the frog's wide open mouth.
"Yes, that 'stuff' is baking soda."
"Seems a rather, er... strange way to store baking soda. Doesn't it go bad exposed in the fridge like that?"
Jack shook his head. "It isn't for storage Carter. You mean your mom didn't keep baking soda in the fridge to help keep the fridge smelling clean?"
Carter looked a bit surprised, and after a moment, shook her head. "No."
"Ah well, mine did," Jack said with a shrug as tapped the ceramic head of the frog. "Lots of people just used the open boxes I think, but we always used stuff like this frog."
"Huh."
"Huh what?"
"Actually Sir, I never gave it much thought, but your fridge always did smell... better than one would expect considering what was spoiled when we had to clean it out."
Jack couldn't help but quirking a grin at her at that. He could well imagine what his leftovers, and just the regular food, had mutated into when stranded off-world, having a bit of experience in seeing what happened when the whole team got stranded off-world for a bit and no one was around to clean out their fridges.
Brrriiinnng!
Well, Jack thought as he looked around his still disorderly kitchen, sounded like the rest of the team was here. "Door's open! Come in!"
His front door opened and closed again and shortly two aliens were standing in the entrance to his kitchen. Both raised their eyebrows at the clutter though it was, typically, Jonas who openly looked surprised and not Teal'c.
"Hi guys, go ahead and put movies by the TV and then come help Carter with the pizza," he waved them towards the living room. As the wide-eyed Jones trailed after Teal'c, he was struck by an idea. Leaning towards Carter he said quietly, "Pst, Carter? When I was stuck with Maybourne a couple weeks back, who cleaned out my fridge?"
"Um," Carter flushed a bit, "I did."
"Jonas didn't help?"
"Ah, no Sir," she said warily. "It was just me."
"Excellent," Jack grinned deviously and rubbed his hands together. Raising his voice he called out, "Hey, Jonas! You want to partake in a traditional Earth activity?"
-FINISHED
"Transylvania Twist" [short story, Jack/Sam, K]
Title: Transylvania Twist
Author: A. Karswyll
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Rated: K
Words: 2,602
Summary: Sam is wrangled into attending a Halloween party by Jack and enjoys herself dancing with her husband.
AN: Thank you to Nolamom for making and showing us the gif that was so inspirational for their costumes! And thanks to fems for her beta work!
Season 12
25 October 2008
Sam tapped the edge of the Halloween invitation—for this Saturday night, the weekend before the official date of Halloween—against the palm of her hand and considered the man that was looking so hopefully at her with those dark brown eyes. "You want to go to a Halloween party tonight."
"Come on Sam, it would be fun!" Jack cajoled. "And besides, James is an okay guy."
She furrowed her brow and tapped the invitation again as she tried to place the name. It wasn't one associated with the project at all, but Jack still picked up friends in the oddest places. "General James Lansky, one of the men you play golf with?"
"Yep. It's just a small party anyway. Mostly just the guys we golf with—and some of the Lanskys's neighbours I think."
"A little warning would be nice. Especially as the invite says costumes only," Sam waved the invite in the air and complained, "I don't have a costume here." She frowned. "Actually, with all the moving this past year or more and getting and selling homes, I don't know where any of my costumes went."
Jack gave her an engaging grin. "That's fine, I picked up costumes for us."
"You did," Sam arched an eyebrow at him. "I am not dressing up as Dorothy—or heaven forbid, a French maid! There is no way I'm wearing blue gingham or, worse, fishnet in a room full of generals."
"But you look good in blue," Jack protested and then waggled his eyebrows roguishly at her. "And I know you'd look great in fishnet."
Sam did not even dignify that with an answer.
"It's okay, I didn't pick up anything like that." He reassured and pausing, gave her front a considering look. "Well, it does show a bit of cleavage, but not as much as some of your dresses and it's got long sleeves and a long skirt."
"Well, what did you get then?
Looking like a gleeful little child, Jack gestured her to follow. "I'll show you."
In the bedroom, he took out two black garment bags and laid them on the mattress. Grasping the zipper tab of one of the bags he instructed, "Turn around. And no peeking!"
Corner of her lips curling up a bit in amusement—Jack did get into Halloween quite a bit—Sam obediently turned her back and waited for him to say she could look. She heard the zipper unzip behind her, the rustle of plenty of fabric, and some low muttering when part of the costume frustrated him as he put it on.
"Okay, you can turn back around now," Jack allowed.
Turning around she found Jack wearing black pants and a jacket and a white shirt that had a star-shaped medal hanging from a burgundy ribbon in the center of the chest. And with the burgundy lined black cloak with its high collar, the costume was unmistakable. And on him with his silver hair and dark eyes, was very sexy.
"Vampire?"
Jack nodded and then looked a little dismayed. "Oh, wait, forgot the teeth." Leaning down, he picked up a box from inside the garment bag, popped in the false fanged dentures, and gave her a toothy grin.
"Well, you're no Bela Lugosi," Sam murmured as she eyed the fangs.
Jack looked a bit affronted and mumbled around the false fangs. "I thought I'd make a very good Count Dracula."
Sam laughed as she came up to him and smoothed her hands over the drape of the costume a bit. "Oh, you make a very good Dracula Jack. Very sexy." Grinning up at him she explained, "It's the teeth Jack, Bela Lugosi didn't wear or show fangs in his films."
"Oh," Jack looked rather disappointed as he reached up and popped the fangs out and tossed them aside. Then he brightened, "Well, it'll make eating the food easier at least."
Chuckling again she set her hands onto his shoulders. "If you're going to be a vampire, does that mean my costume is for one of Dracula's brides or something?"
He shook his head, "No, I got you a vampire costume too."
"Vampires. Both of us?"
"Yeah," he affirmed, looking rather pleased with himself.
"I just came from fighting life-sucking aliens that have been called 'vampires' and you want me to dress up as a vampire?"
"Uh..." Jack looked a little sheepish, "yeah."
Sam studied his sheepish look and, considering he had been very earnest and childlike in his enthusiasm, after a long purposeful pause to make him sweat a bit, consented. "All right Jack, vampires it is."
He grinned down at her. "Great! Try on your costume please?"
She agreed, tossed the invitation onto the bed and turned to the second garment bag that held the costume for her and opened the bag. Within it, she found a full length black dress with long sleeves as he had said earlier, and a well shaped décolleté and the black cape with its high collar and burgundy lining matched Jack's costume.
Pulling off her top, she slipped into the dress and got Jack's help in zipping it up. She cast a smile at him over her shoulder when he placed a kiss on her left shoulder blade when done, and fixed the cape into place.
Moving in front of a mirror, Sam took a look at herself. The dress was actually a decent fit and with a pair of black heels—and the jeans peeking out from beneath the dress hem off of course—she'd make a pretty good vampire. Especially if she put her hair up and just left some locks trailing to emphasise her neck. And with the flattering shape and ample cleavage, a rather sexy one, like Jack.
And as Jack joined her in front of the mirror and wrapped his arms around her, and she saw their reflection together, that they made quite a good vampire pair.
"So? Are we going to the party?"
Sam smiled at him in the mirror and set her hands on his arms. "Only if we don't paint our faces white. Even if we are vampires, I don't want to look too much like the Wraith."
"We're going then?"
"Yes, we're going to the party."
He flashed her another boyish grin in the mirror and pressed a kiss to her temple. "Thanks Sam."
"You're welcome," she replied as she leaned back against him. Considering how sexy he was, she was all for him dressed up as a vampire. It probably could be an enjoyable evening, especially at the end when she got her sexy vampire all to herself.
Arm-in-arm with their cloaks flaring dramatically behind them, they strolled up the sidewalk from where they'd parked on the street and Sam surveyed the Halloween decorated homes of the cul-de-sac. Jack-o-lanterns—real and decorative—abounded and ghostly cobwebs with ghosts and bats hung from trees and along hedges and one house had a cemetery set up in their front yard.
It was to the house with the cemetery and all the lights aglow that Jack guided her. Standing on the porch Sam could hear music, laughter, and ample conversation within that said this was where the party was. They rang the doorbell and when the door was opened, light and sound spilled out and a handsome man in his mid-fifties wearing green tights and tunic, with a quiver of arrows at his side and a Robin Hood hat with a feather at a jaunty angle atop his black hair stood in the open doorway.
"Ah, Jack, glad you came!" the man greeted warmly, his mouth smiling as much as his hazel eyes. "And who is this lovely vamp on your arm?"
"James," Jack responded, "I'd like you to meet my wife."
"Your wife eh? Well I can see why you've been keeping her from us!" James gave her an engaging and flirtatious smile as he reached out to shake her hand. "So you're Sam. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. We were starting to think he was making you up—like he does his golf scores."
Sam smiled a bit as she heard Jack's affronted mumble at the last comment, and returned the greeting and the handshake, "Pleasure to meet you too Sir."
"Please, no Sirs here tonight, we're here to have fun. You can call me James or," he waved a hand at his costume, "Robin Hood." Then looking conspiratorial James leaned forward and said in a stage whisper, "Did you like our graveyard? It's all real you know."
Sam was puzzled by that remark, glancing to Jack who didn't look of any help and back over her shoulder a bit more at the cemetery set up in the front yard.
"James, don't keep them at the door. Invite them in," a slim woman of forty-or so years with a striking face wearing a copper toned medieval gown that glowed richly against her black skin appeared behind him.
Sam deduced from the woman's familiar tone and costume details that matched Robin Hood, that Mrs. Lansky was dressed as Maid Marian. Racking her brain however, she couldn't recall if Jack had ever mentioned the woman's name.
"Of course, where are my manners? Come in, come in," James stepped back from the doorway and gestured them in. "Jack, you know my wife Stephanie. Stephanie, this is Jack's wife Colonel Sam Carter."
"Welcome," Stephanie greeted warmly as she took Sam's hand after her husband and drew her further into the house decorated with cobwebs and jack-o-lantern lights. "I am so glad to finally meet you. And don't mind James, he's just teasing. The headstones aren't really real, they're just casts."
"Casts?" Sam echoed as she was guided in a living room decorated with more fall and Halloween decor and full of Ninja Turtles, Hulks, Ironmen, Cat Women, Wonder Women, Roman warriors, Egyptian queens, mummies, punk rockers, ghosts, and witches.
"Yes, they are plaster casts from notable local headstones."
Sam couldn't help the baffled look she gave her hostess.
"I'm the president of the National Trust of Historical Preservation," Stephanie clarified. "The casts are from some of the conservation and restoration projects the Trust has worked on."
"Oh, you're an archaeologist then?"
Stephanie shook her head with a smile. "No, my schooling is only in English and business."
"Sorry," Sam flushed a bit and let the partial lie smoothly roll off her tongue, "I've been stationed overseas this past year and Jack doesn't talk much about... the families of the people he knows."
"Understandable," Stephanie agreed and cast a quick look back at the men following them, heads together and in heated conversation with each other. "So, as it seems our husbands are arguing over their golf scores already, I'll introduce you to our guests."
Much later in the evening, Sam retreated to a quiet corner and took a sip from her glass of bloody punch as she caught her breath. Jack was an enthusiastic dancer—a surprising and pleasant discovery she'd made at the handful of events they'd been able to attend as a couple after their marriage—and the only reason she could get a breather right now was because he'd gone to the bathroom.
Taking depth controlling breaths, she tried to get her heartbeat at a more steady rhythm. Dancing was enough to get anyone's heart picking up the tempo, but dancing with Jack always got hers racing from the energy of the dance and the thrill of dancing with him.
Some time on her hands now to think, she contemplated the people in the room. Most of the Lanskys's guests were acquainted with each other through their golf club memberships as both Lanskys were avid players, so golf was a common topic of conversation, but the conversations ranged widely and most were the type that Jack would happily participate in. The people also all seemed nice and the Lanskys were clearly into being their hosts and making sure everyone was enjoying themselves.
It made her rather glad actually, that attending this had let her see that Jack had gotten to know some people in D.C. rather well.
It had been one of her worries, especially since their marriage, that the move to the capital and the demands of the project would turn him into a recluse of a sort. Though Jack enjoyed his solitude, he also enjoyed being with people like the regular poker games he had back in the Springs with the sheriff and other men he'd known there.
And then with her being stationed on Atlantis this past year...
Seeing Jack making his way back to her, she downed the last of her drink and found a spot to put the glass down.
"What are you doing hiding a corner?" Jack teased lightly as he reached out and took her hand into his.
"Catching my breath—and resting my feet," Sam retorted as she gave his hand a squeeze. It was true, especially as she was now standing still, that she was aware of a little ache in her feet from her heels. They were good heels, but with all the dancing and her being unaccustomed to wearing heels for more than a year, her feet weren't used to it at all.
Jack rubbed his thumb against her wrist. "Poor you, I'll make it up to you tonight, I promise."
"Promise?" Sam pressed, always happy to get his hands on her feet—for massaging aches or pleasurable other things.
He held up two fingers in a salute. "Scout's honor."
She chuckled and thwacked him lightly on the chest. "You never were a scout."
Jack gave her a roguish grin and as the first lyrics of the Halloween favorite, Monster Mash, issued through the living room's sound system he gave their linked hands a tug. "Come on Countess, let's dance."
Obligingly she let her husband pull her into the group of swaying and dancing people that had taken over the living room. Jack tucked one hand onto the small of her back beneath her cloak and his other hand kept hers clasped in it as he rested it against his chest instead of placing it on his shoulder.
Dancing in time with him to the beat, Sam listened to Pickett singing and continued to enjoy the first Halloween party they'd been able to attend together.
Sam loved dancing with Jack and she stepped and twisted as his hands guided her. It reminded her of the good times following him in the field and even better, she relished the intimacy and closeness they could indulge in now as a married couple.
Jack swung her out in a spin and she took a bit of childish glee in how her cape flared—because really, capes were fun—as her heart beat fast with excitement.
Swinging back into Jack, he cinched her close to him and echoed the lyric in that Hungarian accent as he gyrated his hips against her, "'Whatever happened to my Transylvania Twist?'"
Sam chuckled and the sound turned into a shriek of laughter when he caught her off-balance and dipped her low. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she gazed up at his face framed by the high red collar and as heat sizzled between them his head bent to hers, she raised her lips to him to kiss.
His mouth closed on hers, slow and heated. Sam made a soft, urgent little sound and clung tighter as she reveled in the heated press of his body. Oh yes, Transylvania Twist indeed!
Author: A. Karswyll
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Rated: K
Words: 2,602
Summary: Sam is wrangled into attending a Halloween party by Jack and enjoys herself dancing with her husband.
AN: Thank you to Nolamom for making and showing us the gif that was so inspirational for their costumes! And thanks to fems for her beta work!
Season 12
25 October 2008
Sam tapped the edge of the Halloween invitation—for this Saturday night, the weekend before the official date of Halloween—against the palm of her hand and considered the man that was looking so hopefully at her with those dark brown eyes. "You want to go to a Halloween party tonight."
"Come on Sam, it would be fun!" Jack cajoled. "And besides, James is an okay guy."
She furrowed her brow and tapped the invitation again as she tried to place the name. It wasn't one associated with the project at all, but Jack still picked up friends in the oddest places. "General James Lansky, one of the men you play golf with?"
"Yep. It's just a small party anyway. Mostly just the guys we golf with—and some of the Lanskys's neighbours I think."
"A little warning would be nice. Especially as the invite says costumes only," Sam waved the invite in the air and complained, "I don't have a costume here." She frowned. "Actually, with all the moving this past year or more and getting and selling homes, I don't know where any of my costumes went."
Jack gave her an engaging grin. "That's fine, I picked up costumes for us."
"You did," Sam arched an eyebrow at him. "I am not dressing up as Dorothy—or heaven forbid, a French maid! There is no way I'm wearing blue gingham or, worse, fishnet in a room full of generals."
"But you look good in blue," Jack protested and then waggled his eyebrows roguishly at her. "And I know you'd look great in fishnet."
Sam did not even dignify that with an answer.
"It's okay, I didn't pick up anything like that." He reassured and pausing, gave her front a considering look. "Well, it does show a bit of cleavage, but not as much as some of your dresses and it's got long sleeves and a long skirt."
"Well, what did you get then?
Looking like a gleeful little child, Jack gestured her to follow. "I'll show you."
In the bedroom, he took out two black garment bags and laid them on the mattress. Grasping the zipper tab of one of the bags he instructed, "Turn around. And no peeking!"
Corner of her lips curling up a bit in amusement—Jack did get into Halloween quite a bit—Sam obediently turned her back and waited for him to say she could look. She heard the zipper unzip behind her, the rustle of plenty of fabric, and some low muttering when part of the costume frustrated him as he put it on.
"Okay, you can turn back around now," Jack allowed.
Turning around she found Jack wearing black pants and a jacket and a white shirt that had a star-shaped medal hanging from a burgundy ribbon in the center of the chest. And with the burgundy lined black cloak with its high collar, the costume was unmistakable. And on him with his silver hair and dark eyes, was very sexy.
"Vampire?"
Jack nodded and then looked a little dismayed. "Oh, wait, forgot the teeth." Leaning down, he picked up a box from inside the garment bag, popped in the false fanged dentures, and gave her a toothy grin.
"Well, you're no Bela Lugosi," Sam murmured as she eyed the fangs.
Jack looked a bit affronted and mumbled around the false fangs. "I thought I'd make a very good Count Dracula."
Sam laughed as she came up to him and smoothed her hands over the drape of the costume a bit. "Oh, you make a very good Dracula Jack. Very sexy." Grinning up at him she explained, "It's the teeth Jack, Bela Lugosi didn't wear or show fangs in his films."
"Oh," Jack looked rather disappointed as he reached up and popped the fangs out and tossed them aside. Then he brightened, "Well, it'll make eating the food easier at least."
Chuckling again she set her hands onto his shoulders. "If you're going to be a vampire, does that mean my costume is for one of Dracula's brides or something?"
He shook his head, "No, I got you a vampire costume too."
"Vampires. Both of us?"
"Yeah," he affirmed, looking rather pleased with himself.
"I just came from fighting life-sucking aliens that have been called 'vampires' and you want me to dress up as a vampire?"
"Uh..." Jack looked a little sheepish, "yeah."
Sam studied his sheepish look and, considering he had been very earnest and childlike in his enthusiasm, after a long purposeful pause to make him sweat a bit, consented. "All right Jack, vampires it is."
He grinned down at her. "Great! Try on your costume please?"
She agreed, tossed the invitation onto the bed and turned to the second garment bag that held the costume for her and opened the bag. Within it, she found a full length black dress with long sleeves as he had said earlier, and a well shaped décolleté and the black cape with its high collar and burgundy lining matched Jack's costume.
Pulling off her top, she slipped into the dress and got Jack's help in zipping it up. She cast a smile at him over her shoulder when he placed a kiss on her left shoulder blade when done, and fixed the cape into place.
Moving in front of a mirror, Sam took a look at herself. The dress was actually a decent fit and with a pair of black heels—and the jeans peeking out from beneath the dress hem off of course—she'd make a pretty good vampire. Especially if she put her hair up and just left some locks trailing to emphasise her neck. And with the flattering shape and ample cleavage, a rather sexy one, like Jack.
And as Jack joined her in front of the mirror and wrapped his arms around her, and she saw their reflection together, that they made quite a good vampire pair.
"So? Are we going to the party?"
Sam smiled at him in the mirror and set her hands on his arms. "Only if we don't paint our faces white. Even if we are vampires, I don't want to look too much like the Wraith."
"We're going then?"
"Yes, we're going to the party."
He flashed her another boyish grin in the mirror and pressed a kiss to her temple. "Thanks Sam."
"You're welcome," she replied as she leaned back against him. Considering how sexy he was, she was all for him dressed up as a vampire. It probably could be an enjoyable evening, especially at the end when she got her sexy vampire all to herself.
. . .
Arm-in-arm with their cloaks flaring dramatically behind them, they strolled up the sidewalk from where they'd parked on the street and Sam surveyed the Halloween decorated homes of the cul-de-sac. Jack-o-lanterns—real and decorative—abounded and ghostly cobwebs with ghosts and bats hung from trees and along hedges and one house had a cemetery set up in their front yard.
It was to the house with the cemetery and all the lights aglow that Jack guided her. Standing on the porch Sam could hear music, laughter, and ample conversation within that said this was where the party was. They rang the doorbell and when the door was opened, light and sound spilled out and a handsome man in his mid-fifties wearing green tights and tunic, with a quiver of arrows at his side and a Robin Hood hat with a feather at a jaunty angle atop his black hair stood in the open doorway.
"Ah, Jack, glad you came!" the man greeted warmly, his mouth smiling as much as his hazel eyes. "And who is this lovely vamp on your arm?"
"James," Jack responded, "I'd like you to meet my wife."
"Your wife eh? Well I can see why you've been keeping her from us!" James gave her an engaging and flirtatious smile as he reached out to shake her hand. "So you're Sam. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. We were starting to think he was making you up—like he does his golf scores."
Sam smiled a bit as she heard Jack's affronted mumble at the last comment, and returned the greeting and the handshake, "Pleasure to meet you too Sir."
"Please, no Sirs here tonight, we're here to have fun. You can call me James or," he waved a hand at his costume, "Robin Hood." Then looking conspiratorial James leaned forward and said in a stage whisper, "Did you like our graveyard? It's all real you know."
Sam was puzzled by that remark, glancing to Jack who didn't look of any help and back over her shoulder a bit more at the cemetery set up in the front yard.
"James, don't keep them at the door. Invite them in," a slim woman of forty-or so years with a striking face wearing a copper toned medieval gown that glowed richly against her black skin appeared behind him.
Sam deduced from the woman's familiar tone and costume details that matched Robin Hood, that Mrs. Lansky was dressed as Maid Marian. Racking her brain however, she couldn't recall if Jack had ever mentioned the woman's name.
"Of course, where are my manners? Come in, come in," James stepped back from the doorway and gestured them in. "Jack, you know my wife Stephanie. Stephanie, this is Jack's wife Colonel Sam Carter."
"Welcome," Stephanie greeted warmly as she took Sam's hand after her husband and drew her further into the house decorated with cobwebs and jack-o-lantern lights. "I am so glad to finally meet you. And don't mind James, he's just teasing. The headstones aren't really real, they're just casts."
"Casts?" Sam echoed as she was guided in a living room decorated with more fall and Halloween decor and full of Ninja Turtles, Hulks, Ironmen, Cat Women, Wonder Women, Roman warriors, Egyptian queens, mummies, punk rockers, ghosts, and witches.
"Yes, they are plaster casts from notable local headstones."
Sam couldn't help the baffled look she gave her hostess.
"I'm the president of the National Trust of Historical Preservation," Stephanie clarified. "The casts are from some of the conservation and restoration projects the Trust has worked on."
"Oh, you're an archaeologist then?"
Stephanie shook her head with a smile. "No, my schooling is only in English and business."
"Sorry," Sam flushed a bit and let the partial lie smoothly roll off her tongue, "I've been stationed overseas this past year and Jack doesn't talk much about... the families of the people he knows."
"Understandable," Stephanie agreed and cast a quick look back at the men following them, heads together and in heated conversation with each other. "So, as it seems our husbands are arguing over their golf scores already, I'll introduce you to our guests."
. . .
Much later in the evening, Sam retreated to a quiet corner and took a sip from her glass of bloody punch as she caught her breath. Jack was an enthusiastic dancer—a surprising and pleasant discovery she'd made at the handful of events they'd been able to attend as a couple after their marriage—and the only reason she could get a breather right now was because he'd gone to the bathroom.
Taking depth controlling breaths, she tried to get her heartbeat at a more steady rhythm. Dancing was enough to get anyone's heart picking up the tempo, but dancing with Jack always got hers racing from the energy of the dance and the thrill of dancing with him.
Some time on her hands now to think, she contemplated the people in the room. Most of the Lanskys's guests were acquainted with each other through their golf club memberships as both Lanskys were avid players, so golf was a common topic of conversation, but the conversations ranged widely and most were the type that Jack would happily participate in. The people also all seemed nice and the Lanskys were clearly into being their hosts and making sure everyone was enjoying themselves.
It made her rather glad actually, that attending this had let her see that Jack had gotten to know some people in D.C. rather well.
It had been one of her worries, especially since their marriage, that the move to the capital and the demands of the project would turn him into a recluse of a sort. Though Jack enjoyed his solitude, he also enjoyed being with people like the regular poker games he had back in the Springs with the sheriff and other men he'd known there.
And then with her being stationed on Atlantis this past year...
Seeing Jack making his way back to her, she downed the last of her drink and found a spot to put the glass down.
"What are you doing hiding a corner?" Jack teased lightly as he reached out and took her hand into his.
"Catching my breath—and resting my feet," Sam retorted as she gave his hand a squeeze. It was true, especially as she was now standing still, that she was aware of a little ache in her feet from her heels. They were good heels, but with all the dancing and her being unaccustomed to wearing heels for more than a year, her feet weren't used to it at all.
Jack rubbed his thumb against her wrist. "Poor you, I'll make it up to you tonight, I promise."
"Promise?" Sam pressed, always happy to get his hands on her feet—for massaging aches or pleasurable other things.
He held up two fingers in a salute. "Scout's honor."
She chuckled and thwacked him lightly on the chest. "You never were a scout."
Jack gave her a roguish grin and as the first lyrics of the Halloween favorite, Monster Mash, issued through the living room's sound system he gave their linked hands a tug. "Come on Countess, let's dance."
Obligingly she let her husband pull her into the group of swaying and dancing people that had taken over the living room. Jack tucked one hand onto the small of her back beneath her cloak and his other hand kept hers clasped in it as he rested it against his chest instead of placing it on his shoulder.
Dancing in time with him to the beat, Sam listened to Pickett singing and continued to enjoy the first Halloween party they'd been able to attend together.
Sam loved dancing with Jack and she stepped and twisted as his hands guided her. It reminded her of the good times following him in the field and even better, she relished the intimacy and closeness they could indulge in now as a married couple.
Jack swung her out in a spin and she took a bit of childish glee in how her cape flared—because really, capes were fun—as her heart beat fast with excitement.
Swinging back into Jack, he cinched her close to him and echoed the lyric in that Hungarian accent as he gyrated his hips against her, "'Whatever happened to my Transylvania Twist?'"
Sam chuckled and the sound turned into a shriek of laughter when he caught her off-balance and dipped her low. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she gazed up at his face framed by the high red collar and as heat sizzled between them his head bent to hers, she raised her lips to him to kiss.
His mouth closed on hers, slow and heated. Sam made a soft, urgent little sound and clung tighter as she reveled in the heated press of his body. Oh yes, Transylvania Twist indeed!
Labels:
holiday,
jack/sam,
rated:K,
short story,
stargate
"Babbling Day" [drabble, Jack & Sam, K]
Title: Babbling Day
Author: A. Karswyll
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Rated: K
Words: 730
Summary: October 21st is not a holiday Jack O'Neill marks with particular relish, but for his two babbling geeks on the team he will endure—for the day.
Season 2
21 October 1998
Jack listened to the weekly science geek congress babble on about their weekly findings and wished—not for the first time—that these briefings weren't a requirement he had to attend as team leader. Jeez, and he still had to attend the Daniel-type geeks briefings this afternoon.
Last week the geeks had been all excited about the ongoing development of longer ranged recon probes that had developed into the UAV. Things like that he could appreciate.
Long dissertations on the analysis of the sound waves used by the bald, white, and naked aliens and white alien plants of PJ2-445 were mind numbing. Just listening to them go on and on was threatening to bring on a headache like the one he'd gotten three days ago on the planet from said alien plants.
As the projector was turned off and the briefing room lights were turned back on Jack rubbed his eyes. Didn't Foldger know two, or even three, syllable words?
Pressing his palms into his eyes he took a breath and reminded himself of his promise to hold his tongue and let the geeks babble all they liked today. He was seriously reconsidering that, though. Next year, yes next year, he'd hold his tongue only for his geeks: Carter and Daniel.
Feeling better with that decided he lowered his hands and opened his eyes to find one of his geeks, Carter watching him with her head cocked at a curious angle.
"What?"
"You okay Sir?"
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"
Carter's blue eyes flickered around the room before returning to him. "You've been very... quiet today Sir. Are you sure there are no aftereffects of the infrasonic frequencies produced by the plant-like organisms of PJ2-445? You and Daniel were exposed for a long period of time and Teal'c had his symbiote to buffer his susceptibility."
Jack groaned. This was the thanks he got for keep his trap shut? Carter eyeing him like she was on the verge of reporting him to the needle pushers? "I'm fine Carter. No need to go a hollering for the Doc."
She worried her bottom lip and glanced away.
Sighing he ordered, "Spit it out Carter."
"Sir?"
"You've still got something to say, spit it out."
Her cheeks reddening a bit she spoke, "Are you sure? You're really—"
"Quiet," Jack rolled his eyes and finished for her. "Yes, you've said that already Carter. Really, I thought you'd appreciate no interruptions from me. Let you talk about your doohickeys all you want."
"I..." Carter trailed off, and then clearly changing her mind about what she was going to say, instead said, "Why have you not been, er, your usual self today?"
"Because of the holiday."
"Holiday?" she blinked at him.
Jack gave her a crooked grin. It clearly had not been an answer his second had expected. "Yeah, it's Babbling Day today."
"What is Babbling Day?"
"Come on Carter, you don't know what it is? You're a card carrying member," he teased. He thought about it for a moment and corrected himself, "No, actually you and Daniel are summa cum laude graduates."
She just looked even more baffled. "I've never heard of such a day Sir."
"No, I didn't think you would have Captain. But trust me, today is the day I let you guys get away with all sorts of blatherskite." Proud of himself at managing to use that word today, he lifted a finger and wagged it at her. "But only today."
Carter looked even more perplexed and absently gestured her acknowledgement when one of the other geeks in the room prompted her that it was her turn to speak.
Jack felt his grin deepen, it always was fun baffling his geeks, and made shooing motions with his hands. "Go Carter, talk about how you talk to your plants."
She gave him one last puzzled look and then she got up and made her way to the front to report her latest discoveries.
Settling back into his chair Jack wondered if he'd be able to get a similar reaction from Daniel when the rock geeks did their talks. It was something to look forward to this afternoon anyway. And he admitted to himself privately, Carter sure got animated and hot when she got going with her technobabble so he settled into to enjoy the rest of Babbling Day.
Author: A. Karswyll
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Rated: K
Words: 730
Summary: October 21st is not a holiday Jack O'Neill marks with particular relish, but for his two babbling geeks on the team he will endure—for the day.
Season 2
21 October 1998
Jack listened to the weekly science geek congress babble on about their weekly findings and wished—not for the first time—that these briefings weren't a requirement he had to attend as team leader. Jeez, and he still had to attend the Daniel-type geeks briefings this afternoon.
Last week the geeks had been all excited about the ongoing development of longer ranged recon probes that had developed into the UAV. Things like that he could appreciate.
Long dissertations on the analysis of the sound waves used by the bald, white, and naked aliens and white alien plants of PJ2-445 were mind numbing. Just listening to them go on and on was threatening to bring on a headache like the one he'd gotten three days ago on the planet from said alien plants.
As the projector was turned off and the briefing room lights were turned back on Jack rubbed his eyes. Didn't Foldger know two, or even three, syllable words?
Pressing his palms into his eyes he took a breath and reminded himself of his promise to hold his tongue and let the geeks babble all they liked today. He was seriously reconsidering that, though. Next year, yes next year, he'd hold his tongue only for his geeks: Carter and Daniel.
Feeling better with that decided he lowered his hands and opened his eyes to find one of his geeks, Carter watching him with her head cocked at a curious angle.
"What?"
"You okay Sir?"
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"
Carter's blue eyes flickered around the room before returning to him. "You've been very... quiet today Sir. Are you sure there are no aftereffects of the infrasonic frequencies produced by the plant-like organisms of PJ2-445? You and Daniel were exposed for a long period of time and Teal'c had his symbiote to buffer his susceptibility."
Jack groaned. This was the thanks he got for keep his trap shut? Carter eyeing him like she was on the verge of reporting him to the needle pushers? "I'm fine Carter. No need to go a hollering for the Doc."
She worried her bottom lip and glanced away.
Sighing he ordered, "Spit it out Carter."
"Sir?"
"You've still got something to say, spit it out."
Her cheeks reddening a bit she spoke, "Are you sure? You're really—"
"Quiet," Jack rolled his eyes and finished for her. "Yes, you've said that already Carter. Really, I thought you'd appreciate no interruptions from me. Let you talk about your doohickeys all you want."
"I..." Carter trailed off, and then clearly changing her mind about what she was going to say, instead said, "Why have you not been, er, your usual self today?"
"Because of the holiday."
"Holiday?" she blinked at him.
Jack gave her a crooked grin. It clearly had not been an answer his second had expected. "Yeah, it's Babbling Day today."
"What is Babbling Day?"
"Come on Carter, you don't know what it is? You're a card carrying member," he teased. He thought about it for a moment and corrected himself, "No, actually you and Daniel are summa cum laude graduates."
She just looked even more baffled. "I've never heard of such a day Sir."
"No, I didn't think you would have Captain. But trust me, today is the day I let you guys get away with all sorts of blatherskite." Proud of himself at managing to use that word today, he lifted a finger and wagged it at her. "But only today."
Carter looked even more perplexed and absently gestured her acknowledgement when one of the other geeks in the room prompted her that it was her turn to speak.
Jack felt his grin deepen, it always was fun baffling his geeks, and made shooing motions with his hands. "Go Carter, talk about how you talk to your plants."
She gave him one last puzzled look and then she got up and made her way to the front to report her latest discoveries.
Settling back into his chair Jack wondered if he'd be able to get a similar reaction from Daniel when the rock geeks did their talks. It was something to look forward to this afternoon anyway. And he admitted to himself privately, Carter sure got animated and hot when she got going with her technobabble so he settled into to enjoy the rest of Babbling Day.
Labels:
drabble,
friendship,
holiday,
jack&sam,
Quirky Holidays Series,
rated:K,
stargate
"The Big 60" [short story, Jack/Sam, MA]
Title: The Big 60
Author: A. Karswyll
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Rated: M (FFnet), MA (elsewhere)
Words: 7,229
Summary: Jack O'Neill has reached the big six-oh and his family gathers together to celebrate and mark his birthday in D.C. with a party. [Celebrating Jack's Birthday on 20 October.]
AN: Written of course for Jack O'Neill's birthday so—Happy Birthday Jack!
Fabulous fems was not able to beta this entirely before its posting so please inform me of all the stupid errors that I made and missed.
WARNING: the following story contains a graphic sex scene.
Author: A. Karswyll
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Rated: M (FFnet), MA (elsewhere)
Words: 7,229
Summary: Jack O'Neill has reached the big six-oh and his family gathers together to celebrate and mark his birthday in D.C. with a party. [Celebrating Jack's Birthday on 20 October.]
AN: Written of course for Jack O'Neill's birthday so—Happy Birthday Jack!
Fabulous fems was not able to beta this entirely before its posting so please inform me of all the stupid errors that I made and missed.
WARNING: the following story contains a graphic sex scene.
"National Dessert Day" [drabble, Jack/Sam, M]
Title: National Dessert Day
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
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
"Moldy Cheese Day" [drabble, Jack/Sam, K]
Title: Moldy Cheese Day
Author: A. Karswyll
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Rated: K
Words: 3,415
Summary: It is October the 9th and Jack is officially moved into his new D.C. home. Inviting his old team and commander to a housewarming get together, he takes time to mark the occasion and eat cheese.
Season 8
9 October 2004
Jack adjusted one of the platters set out on the table in his new dining room of his Virginian townhouse. Popping a piece of cubed cheese into his mouth from the platter, he took a step back and looked over the selection of three red wines and nine flavours of cheeses in cubes and wedges laid out. Everything looked good to him and he gave a satisfied nod.
Checking his watch again to see how they were doing for time, he rocked back on his heels and called out, "Carter! You ready yet? They'll be here soon!"
"In a minute!" was yelled down the stairs from upstairs.
"That's what you said last time!" Jack shouted back. Really, the woman could kit up for a mission in less than two minutes and they had started preparing for this hours ago and she still wasn't ready! What was she doing? Dyeing her hair or something?
"I mean it this time, in a minute!"
The doorbell cut off any response Jack would have made. Taking another piece of cheese, he ate it and then wiped his fingers on the hem of his blue shirt and crossed to the front door. Opening it, he found George Hammond in a grey shirt and black slacks holding a ribbon wrapped box on his new front steps.
"Sir, come on in," Jack greeted as he gestured the man in, "you're the first to get here."
"It's George now Jack," Hammond reminded the younger general as he stepped over the threshold and presented his gift. "I think this will warm you up some nights in your new home."
"I'll get it right one day George." Jack accepted the gift and pulled down the ribbon around the box to read that he had just been presented with a twelve-year-old whisky bottle of Johnnie Walker's Black Label. His eyebrows raised, "Nice, Sir, very nice. Thank you."
"George," the man reminded.
Jack made a rueful face and led to the kitchen-dining area.
"Still buying furniture?" Hammond asked as they walked through the open living room.
Jack looked at the sparse furniture: a two-person sofa, lounger, and coffee table. "I'm still trying to make up my mind about paying to have my old stuff in storage shipped out here or buying new."
Hammond gave him a sympathetic look. "I chose a few of my favourites to bring with me and the rest I bought new."
Jack sighed but tucked the advice away in his mind. In the kitchen, he set the gift on the part of the kitchen counter that had been kept clear for said gifts and then waved to the spread on the table. "Help yourself Sir—George. The wine that is beside the cheese platter is the wine that goes best with those cheeses—or anyway that's what the shop girl told me—so feel free to have as many glasses of wine on the go as you'd like."
Footsteps down the stairs had Jack looking away from Hammond and the table to see Carter descending from upstairs. His universe seemed to narrow down as first he saw her black sandal clad feet with toenails painted a sharp red, then the long line of her bare legs leading into the short cocktail dress with its deep V-neckline generously displaying the curves of her breasts, up to her beautiful face framed by the flaring strands of her blonde hair. For such a stunning statement, her expression was shy as her teeth worried lips that were painted a sharp red as she stepped off the last stair.
Jack cleared his throat, but couldn't think of anything to say as he stood rooted in place. The amused voice of his former commander in his ear made him abruptly aware that there was more than just the two of them in the room.
"I would advise breathing Jack," Hammond said in a low voice before stepping past to greet Carter with his hand outstretched . "You are looking wonderful tonight."
"Thank you Sir," Carter flushed prettily as she accepted the outstretched hand.
"At ease Sam, at ease," Hammond patted her hand that he held reassuringly. "I'm retired now remember? It's just George now."
Jack made his feet move and covered the short distance to the two. Clearing his throat again, his eyes connected with hers and he said, "Yeah, you look... great."
"Thanks," Carter gave him a small smile and relaxed some.
The doorbell rang and Jack gestured towards the door, "I'll um, I'll just go get that."
Turning away, he blew out a breath. He knew Carter, he'd worked beside her in the field for seven years but the woman... the woman every now and then made everything male in him sit up and take notice and it had gotten worse since they'd started... well he wasn't really sure what they'd started but it was complicated.
Opening his front door he found the last two guests on his doorstep. Daniel was wearing a blue and white plaid shirt beneath his open jacket and was holding a long thin box with two hands. Teal'c in his brown fedora stood behind him, wearing one of his weirdly patterned shirts in green and was holding... a bundle of firewood? On the steps beside their feet were their overnight bags.
"Daniel, Teal'c, glad you made it."
"No thanks to your directions," Daniel rebutted. "You said you lived in the house on the end."
"It is the one on the end."
"It's the end unit of the townhouse," Daniel countered.
Jack shrugged. How else was he supposed to say it? Quirking a look at the wood in Teal'c's hands he inquired, "What's with wood T? I don't have a fire pit out back yet but I could put one in."
"DanielJackson informed me that it was customary for the guests to a warming of the house celebration to offer wood as a gift," Teal'c replied.
Jack gave Daniel a quizzical look. "What have you been teaching him?"
"It's true Jack, the term 'housewarming' comes from a time when guests would bring gifts of firewood to build fires in the fireplaces to warm the house and repel evil spirits by creating a protective atmosphere of warmth."
"If you say so... Thanks then Teal'c, too bad the new fireplace is gas. Well, come on in," Jack stepped back from the doorway and motioned them in. "You can leave your bags in the entrance for now—we'll take them upstairs after the tour."
The two men did as instructed and stepped into the townhouse.
"Wow," Daniel looked impressed as he looked around the open design of the first floor over. "I can see why you got the end unit. Those bay windows are beautiful."
"Some of the views are good too, especially out back," Jack explained with some pride as the windows were one of the reasons he'd gone with this unit over one of the squished-in-the-middle ones. The many big windows were not the best security for controlling access, but there were other security tradeoffs like his old place had had. "There's a park behind this place instead of more houses."
"A selling point?" Daniel promoted with a grin.
Jack smiled and nodded and led them over to where Carter and Hammond were.
As the three men and Carter exchanged their own greetings, he took the gift of bundled firewood from Teal'c so the man could clasp forearms with 'Hammond of Texas' and set it beside the boxed bottle of whiskey. It had been some time since everyone had seen each other as Hammond had been living in D.C. for some time now, first heading up HWS and now in his retirement as a special advisor.
Daniel turned from greeting Hammond and offered his gift with both hands. "Here Jack."
Jack took the long thin white box and feeling that it had a bit of weight to it, he set it down on the kitchen counter. After digging out a knife from a drawer to cut the tape he lifted off the lid. Nestled on the packaging foam was a bronze sword about two and half feet in length with a blade that was leaf-shaped and the hafting plate had rounded shoulders.
Jack whistled low as he reached into the box and picked up the sword, feeling its weight in his hands. As he held the weapon he felt Carter move close and peer over his shoulder.
"Wow," Carter agreed.
Daniel looked pleased at both their reactions. "It's a replica—that is fully functional and crafted in the same manner of an original—of a Late Bronze Age cloidhem which is Gaelic for 'sword.' The form itself is widely distributed in Europe but the one you're holding is a native Irish version of which slightly more than twenty swords have been found in Ireland."
"Irish you say?"
Daniel bobbed his head and smiled. "I thought you'd like that."
Jack put the bronze sword back onto the foam and reached out, gripping the young man firmly on the arm. "Thanks Daniel."
Daniel's smile broadened and it was plain he was thrilled his gift had gone over so well. "I thought it would go well on the wall with your medals."
"It will," Jack assured as he returned the smile. Then lifting his hand from Daniel's arm he waved it at the cheese and wine landed table, "Well, help yourselves. Teal'c, do you want ginger ale or juice? It's cranberry."
"Cranberry juice."
Jack crossed to the fridge and took out the plastic bottle and poured Teal'c a drink into one of the wine glasses on hand and handed it over. Return the bottle to the fridge he close the door and they joined the three at the dining table. Carter handed the glass that had been poured for him earlier and he raised it up, "Sláinte!"
His four guests raised their glasses and echoed the Gaelic toast to health.
When the toast ended Daniel stepped up beside him with his glass of wine in hand. "Cheese and wine Jack? I was more expecting peanuts, pretzels, and beer. Not… this." He used the hand holding the glass to gesture at the table.
"What, an old Irishman can't be cultured?" Jack quipped.
Daniel gave him a look that said plainly he would not be taken in by any of Jack's tricks on this.
"Okay, okay," Jack surrendered. "Carter said if I wanted cheese, no beer."
Daniel turned a considering look towards Carter in her testosterone rising black dress as she chatted softly with Hammond and Teal'c.
Jack braced himself when Daniel looked back at him with a speculative look on the younger man's face—it wasn't hard to get speculative when Carter was wearing something like that—but to his relief Daniel didn't say anything about it.
"But why cheese?" Daniel asked.
"Because I'm celebrating," Jack explained. He had a reason for not having peanuts or chips for snacks after all. "And I thought it important to mark it."
"Yes, that's why we're here."
"No, I'm marking that the move here official means I'll never have to deal with it again."
Daniel furrowed his brow in puzzlement. "What are you talking about?"
"The holiday."
"What holiday?"
"Moldy Cheese Day," Jack announced.
"Moldy Cheese Day?" Daniel echoed incredulously. "What kind of holiday is that?"
"Indeed O'Neill," Teal'c rumbled. "Why would one mark a day that celebrates the decomposition of a nourishing food?"
"Hey, don't ask me why the holiday exists. I didn't make it up—"
"Sometimes I swear you do—" Daniel muttered.
"Hey! I heard that Daniel," Jack glared at his younger friend before continuing, "As I was going to say—I'm marking it because as of today I will never have to clean out my fridge again because of getting stuck off-world."
"Oh," Daniel said. He looked down at the glass in his hand, before looking up again with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Yeah, some of those were... yuck."
"Yuck? You know what, twenty-three languages—"
"Twenty-six now."
"—and 'yuck' is the best word you can come up with?"
"I have to agree with Daniel," Carter stepped up beside them with Hammond at her side. "There isn't a much better word for dealing with the stuff in your fridge than 'yuck.'"
Jack hadn't cleaned out his fridge as many times as his teammate had—as it seemed he got stuck off-world alone more than they did so they did it for him—but he could see where they were coming from. When there had been base lockdowns he'd had to do it for himself, not to mention cleaning out Daniel's fridge all those times he'd 'died'... never for Carter though, and Teal'c living on base didn't have that issue.
"Your leftovers were bad," Carter continued.
Daniel shuddered. "Not as bad as the salsa though."
"No," she agreed, "never as bad as that and I still can't believe you kept claiming that was a science experiment."
"It was," Jack insisted.
"Toxic concoction is more like it," Carter retorted.
"Indeed," Teal'c affirmed.
Jack looked the three in the face, Daniel determined, Carter teasing, and Teal'c resolute, and surrendered. He could win sometimes when it was just Daniel, but you'd think after seven years he'd know to just throw in the towel when Carter got started, not to mention Teal'c. Must be the stubborn Irish in him. "Okay, okay, yuck it is."
As the three celebrated the win in their own ways, Jack found his gaze caught by Hammond who raised his glass in silent toast. Jack returned it. He knew that his old commander understood in ways his former team didn't, or hadn't, grasped yet. He was celebrating yes, but he was also mourning. No more moldy food meant no more trips off-world. More than his promotion to commanding SGC where he'd managed to sneak a handful of trips off-world, this move to D.C. meant he was grounded. Most likely for the rest of his life.
"So, son," Hammond gestured to the table, "I've been snacking on a few but why don't you tell us what I've been snacking on?"
Jack nodded and pointed to the first platter of cheeses and bottle of wine behind it, "Now with the Pinot Noir are three soft cheeses: brie, camembert, and feta."
"I am unfamiliar with the words brie and camembert," Teal'c stated.
"They're all cheeses, just different names for specific ones. Brie is a mild, creamy cheese, the camembert a rich, creamy cheese and the feta is a white salty Greek cheese. The brie and camembert are cut into the wedges and look pretty much the same so the fork-tine patterns on some mark them as the camembert. The crumbly cubes of course are the feta and you've had feta in those Greek salads you like ordering at O'Malley's."
Teal'c popped a cube of feta into his mouth and nodded.
"The second platter with the Zinfandel behind it has harder cheeses: Asiago cheese, blue cheese, and gouda cheese."
"Asiago?" Daniel promoted and ate some brie. "That sounds Italian."
"It is, Italian I mean, and it's got a rather nutty flavour to it—that's the white cubes on that platter. The blue cheese has a sharp and salty flavour to it and is in wedges, so is the gouda cheese which is yellow in colour and is sharp and salty in flavour with a bit of spice to it."
Daniel made a face. "I can't believe you bought blue cheese."
"What is wrong with the blue variety of cheese?" Teal'c asked.
"Blue cheese is a cheese that has had mold added," Daniel wrinkled his nose, "and it smells like moldy socks."
"Do you not consume a fruit-flavored dessert made from collagen extracted from the boiled bones, connective tissues, and intestines of animals?" Teal'c countered.
Jack chuckled. "He's got you there Daniel."
"It smells," Daniel insisted; his glasses riding high on his scrunched up nose. Pointedly, he took some camembert and ate the wedge.
Jack just chuckled again and moved on. "The last bottle is the Valpolicella." Jack frowned and he tried to remember what the shop girl had told him about the cheeses. "Well those three are all artisan cheeses and I don't remember what they're called."
"I'm surprised you knew all you just told us," Daniel teased.
"Hey, it's been a while," Jack kept his face very straight. "I can't remember everything all the way back to the beginning of the program."
Daniel gave him a curious look.
"Yeah, I've been saving up all this cheese from the first year for a special occasion—and this is it. Hey, don't look at me like that Daniel. You don't think I let you guys throw out all my science experiments now did ya?" Jack protested.
The two men, and even Hammond, cast dubious glances at the cheeses they'd just been eating. Daniel even went so far as to put down the second wedge of camembert he'd just picked up.
Jack slid a glance at Carter from the corner of his eye and even though she—his co-shopper—was looking spectacularly innocent herself, the wicked gleam in her blue eyes was just too much and he couldn't keep in a snorted chuckle. That was too much for her it seemed, and she promptly started giggling which made it impossible for him not to laugh too.
"Funny Jack," Daniel said as he picked up the piece of camembert again, "very funny."
"I thought so," Jack grinned wickedly and put his glass down on the table and clapped his hands together. "Now, who's up for a tour of the new house? We've still got time to kill before dinner is delivered."
"I would enjoy a tour of your new abode," Teal'c said.
"Before we start though," Daniel put his glass down, "what's for dinner?"
"Mexican."
"Mexican?"
"Yeah, nachos and cheeses, I figure it'll go good with the cheese." Jack popped a piece of cheese into his mouth and grinned when Daniel gave him a look. Oh, he wasn't joking about the Mexican but he was about the nachos and cheese. He'd actually ordered pozole and some other real stuff from a small ethnic place, and not Tex-Mex or anything.
"Now, the tour!" Jack stepped back from the dining table and swung his arms out. "You've seen the living room and kitchen. Follow me, and we'll go out back for a look at the back deck and backyard."
Setting off, Jack found himself rather enthused as he showed his new home off to Daniel, Teal'c, and Hammond. After showing off the deck and backyard, he directed the guys back into the house and up the stairs. When they reached the second floor, he stepped off the staircase into the small hallway and pointed things out.
"That's the laundry stuff and the bathroom is between the two bedrooms. You two will be sharing the big one," Jack addressed Daniel and Teal'c, "so feel free to bring your bags up later. There's a computer set up in the room too for a home office, but it's not really a home office 'cause I'm not willing to put up with the security needed for it so don't expect me to be in there using it. Carter might be though as she's in the second bedroom which is computer free."
Jack ignored the look that Daniel gave him at that statement. Carter was sleeping in that bedroom, just like she slept in the other bedroom at the cabin, and everything between them and the future was... complicated.
He gave a shake of his head and returned his attention to the men poking around his new house. There wasn't too much to see, the rooms had as little furniture as the first level but there was more stuff up on the walls up here from his old place than downstairs.
Jack checked his watch and realised that it was close to delivery time. "I'm heading back downstairs because the take-out should be here shortly. Feel free to look around here more and upstairs—it's just my bedroom and the really big bathroom with the jacuzzi tub but the view's really good—and I'll call you when dinner's set out."
"I'll help you put away the platters," Carter offered.
"Thanks," Jack accepted and turning they started down the stairs. As they moved down, he cast a look at the women beside him and when she gave him a small smile at catching his look, he himself gave a satisfied nod.
Yes, the future was complicated, but good.
-FINISHED
Author: A. Karswyll
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Rated: K
Words: 3,415
Summary: It is October the 9th and Jack is officially moved into his new D.C. home. Inviting his old team and commander to a housewarming get together, he takes time to mark the occasion and eat cheese.
Season 8
9 October 2004
Jack adjusted one of the platters set out on the table in his new dining room of his Virginian townhouse. Popping a piece of cubed cheese into his mouth from the platter, he took a step back and looked over the selection of three red wines and nine flavours of cheeses in cubes and wedges laid out. Everything looked good to him and he gave a satisfied nod.
Checking his watch again to see how they were doing for time, he rocked back on his heels and called out, "Carter! You ready yet? They'll be here soon!"
"In a minute!" was yelled down the stairs from upstairs.
"That's what you said last time!" Jack shouted back. Really, the woman could kit up for a mission in less than two minutes and they had started preparing for this hours ago and she still wasn't ready! What was she doing? Dyeing her hair or something?
"I mean it this time, in a minute!"
The doorbell cut off any response Jack would have made. Taking another piece of cheese, he ate it and then wiped his fingers on the hem of his blue shirt and crossed to the front door. Opening it, he found George Hammond in a grey shirt and black slacks holding a ribbon wrapped box on his new front steps.
"Sir, come on in," Jack greeted as he gestured the man in, "you're the first to get here."
"It's George now Jack," Hammond reminded the younger general as he stepped over the threshold and presented his gift. "I think this will warm you up some nights in your new home."
"I'll get it right one day George." Jack accepted the gift and pulled down the ribbon around the box to read that he had just been presented with a twelve-year-old whisky bottle of Johnnie Walker's Black Label. His eyebrows raised, "Nice, Sir, very nice. Thank you."
"George," the man reminded.
Jack made a rueful face and led to the kitchen-dining area.
"Still buying furniture?" Hammond asked as they walked through the open living room.
Jack looked at the sparse furniture: a two-person sofa, lounger, and coffee table. "I'm still trying to make up my mind about paying to have my old stuff in storage shipped out here or buying new."
Hammond gave him a sympathetic look. "I chose a few of my favourites to bring with me and the rest I bought new."
Jack sighed but tucked the advice away in his mind. In the kitchen, he set the gift on the part of the kitchen counter that had been kept clear for said gifts and then waved to the spread on the table. "Help yourself Sir—George. The wine that is beside the cheese platter is the wine that goes best with those cheeses—or anyway that's what the shop girl told me—so feel free to have as many glasses of wine on the go as you'd like."
Footsteps down the stairs had Jack looking away from Hammond and the table to see Carter descending from upstairs. His universe seemed to narrow down as first he saw her black sandal clad feet with toenails painted a sharp red, then the long line of her bare legs leading into the short cocktail dress with its deep V-neckline generously displaying the curves of her breasts, up to her beautiful face framed by the flaring strands of her blonde hair. For such a stunning statement, her expression was shy as her teeth worried lips that were painted a sharp red as she stepped off the last stair.
Jack cleared his throat, but couldn't think of anything to say as he stood rooted in place. The amused voice of his former commander in his ear made him abruptly aware that there was more than just the two of them in the room.
"I would advise breathing Jack," Hammond said in a low voice before stepping past to greet Carter with his hand outstretched . "You are looking wonderful tonight."
"Thank you Sir," Carter flushed prettily as she accepted the outstretched hand.
"At ease Sam, at ease," Hammond patted her hand that he held reassuringly. "I'm retired now remember? It's just George now."
Jack made his feet move and covered the short distance to the two. Clearing his throat again, his eyes connected with hers and he said, "Yeah, you look... great."
"Thanks," Carter gave him a small smile and relaxed some.
The doorbell rang and Jack gestured towards the door, "I'll um, I'll just go get that."
Turning away, he blew out a breath. He knew Carter, he'd worked beside her in the field for seven years but the woman... the woman every now and then made everything male in him sit up and take notice and it had gotten worse since they'd started... well he wasn't really sure what they'd started but it was complicated.
Opening his front door he found the last two guests on his doorstep. Daniel was wearing a blue and white plaid shirt beneath his open jacket and was holding a long thin box with two hands. Teal'c in his brown fedora stood behind him, wearing one of his weirdly patterned shirts in green and was holding... a bundle of firewood? On the steps beside their feet were their overnight bags.
"Daniel, Teal'c, glad you made it."
"No thanks to your directions," Daniel rebutted. "You said you lived in the house on the end."
"It is the one on the end."
"It's the end unit of the townhouse," Daniel countered.
Jack shrugged. How else was he supposed to say it? Quirking a look at the wood in Teal'c's hands he inquired, "What's with wood T? I don't have a fire pit out back yet but I could put one in."
"DanielJackson informed me that it was customary for the guests to a warming of the house celebration to offer wood as a gift," Teal'c replied.
Jack gave Daniel a quizzical look. "What have you been teaching him?"
"It's true Jack, the term 'housewarming' comes from a time when guests would bring gifts of firewood to build fires in the fireplaces to warm the house and repel evil spirits by creating a protective atmosphere of warmth."
"If you say so... Thanks then Teal'c, too bad the new fireplace is gas. Well, come on in," Jack stepped back from the doorway and motioned them in. "You can leave your bags in the entrance for now—we'll take them upstairs after the tour."
The two men did as instructed and stepped into the townhouse.
"Wow," Daniel looked impressed as he looked around the open design of the first floor over. "I can see why you got the end unit. Those bay windows are beautiful."
"Some of the views are good too, especially out back," Jack explained with some pride as the windows were one of the reasons he'd gone with this unit over one of the squished-in-the-middle ones. The many big windows were not the best security for controlling access, but there were other security tradeoffs like his old place had had. "There's a park behind this place instead of more houses."
"A selling point?" Daniel promoted with a grin.
Jack smiled and nodded and led them over to where Carter and Hammond were.
As the three men and Carter exchanged their own greetings, he took the gift of bundled firewood from Teal'c so the man could clasp forearms with 'Hammond of Texas' and set it beside the boxed bottle of whiskey. It had been some time since everyone had seen each other as Hammond had been living in D.C. for some time now, first heading up HWS and now in his retirement as a special advisor.
Daniel turned from greeting Hammond and offered his gift with both hands. "Here Jack."
Jack took the long thin white box and feeling that it had a bit of weight to it, he set it down on the kitchen counter. After digging out a knife from a drawer to cut the tape he lifted off the lid. Nestled on the packaging foam was a bronze sword about two and half feet in length with a blade that was leaf-shaped and the hafting plate had rounded shoulders.
Jack whistled low as he reached into the box and picked up the sword, feeling its weight in his hands. As he held the weapon he felt Carter move close and peer over his shoulder.
"Wow," Carter agreed.
Daniel looked pleased at both their reactions. "It's a replica—that is fully functional and crafted in the same manner of an original—of a Late Bronze Age cloidhem which is Gaelic for 'sword.' The form itself is widely distributed in Europe but the one you're holding is a native Irish version of which slightly more than twenty swords have been found in Ireland."
"Irish you say?"
Daniel bobbed his head and smiled. "I thought you'd like that."
Jack put the bronze sword back onto the foam and reached out, gripping the young man firmly on the arm. "Thanks Daniel."
Daniel's smile broadened and it was plain he was thrilled his gift had gone over so well. "I thought it would go well on the wall with your medals."
"It will," Jack assured as he returned the smile. Then lifting his hand from Daniel's arm he waved it at the cheese and wine landed table, "Well, help yourselves. Teal'c, do you want ginger ale or juice? It's cranberry."
"Cranberry juice."
Jack crossed to the fridge and took out the plastic bottle and poured Teal'c a drink into one of the wine glasses on hand and handed it over. Return the bottle to the fridge he close the door and they joined the three at the dining table. Carter handed the glass that had been poured for him earlier and he raised it up, "Sláinte!"
His four guests raised their glasses and echoed the Gaelic toast to health.
When the toast ended Daniel stepped up beside him with his glass of wine in hand. "Cheese and wine Jack? I was more expecting peanuts, pretzels, and beer. Not… this." He used the hand holding the glass to gesture at the table.
"What, an old Irishman can't be cultured?" Jack quipped.
Daniel gave him a look that said plainly he would not be taken in by any of Jack's tricks on this.
"Okay, okay," Jack surrendered. "Carter said if I wanted cheese, no beer."
Daniel turned a considering look towards Carter in her testosterone rising black dress as she chatted softly with Hammond and Teal'c.
Jack braced himself when Daniel looked back at him with a speculative look on the younger man's face—it wasn't hard to get speculative when Carter was wearing something like that—but to his relief Daniel didn't say anything about it.
"But why cheese?" Daniel asked.
"Because I'm celebrating," Jack explained. He had a reason for not having peanuts or chips for snacks after all. "And I thought it important to mark it."
"Yes, that's why we're here."
"No, I'm marking that the move here official means I'll never have to deal with it again."
Daniel furrowed his brow in puzzlement. "What are you talking about?"
"The holiday."
"What holiday?"
"Moldy Cheese Day," Jack announced.
"Moldy Cheese Day?" Daniel echoed incredulously. "What kind of holiday is that?"
"Indeed O'Neill," Teal'c rumbled. "Why would one mark a day that celebrates the decomposition of a nourishing food?"
"Hey, don't ask me why the holiday exists. I didn't make it up—"
"Sometimes I swear you do—" Daniel muttered.
"Hey! I heard that Daniel," Jack glared at his younger friend before continuing, "As I was going to say—I'm marking it because as of today I will never have to clean out my fridge again because of getting stuck off-world."
"Oh," Daniel said. He looked down at the glass in his hand, before looking up again with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Yeah, some of those were... yuck."
"Yuck? You know what, twenty-three languages—"
"Twenty-six now."
"—and 'yuck' is the best word you can come up with?"
"I have to agree with Daniel," Carter stepped up beside them with Hammond at her side. "There isn't a much better word for dealing with the stuff in your fridge than 'yuck.'"
Jack hadn't cleaned out his fridge as many times as his teammate had—as it seemed he got stuck off-world alone more than they did so they did it for him—but he could see where they were coming from. When there had been base lockdowns he'd had to do it for himself, not to mention cleaning out Daniel's fridge all those times he'd 'died'... never for Carter though, and Teal'c living on base didn't have that issue.
"Your leftovers were bad," Carter continued.
Daniel shuddered. "Not as bad as the salsa though."
"No," she agreed, "never as bad as that and I still can't believe you kept claiming that was a science experiment."
"It was," Jack insisted.
"Toxic concoction is more like it," Carter retorted.
"Indeed," Teal'c affirmed.
Jack looked the three in the face, Daniel determined, Carter teasing, and Teal'c resolute, and surrendered. He could win sometimes when it was just Daniel, but you'd think after seven years he'd know to just throw in the towel when Carter got started, not to mention Teal'c. Must be the stubborn Irish in him. "Okay, okay, yuck it is."
As the three celebrated the win in their own ways, Jack found his gaze caught by Hammond who raised his glass in silent toast. Jack returned it. He knew that his old commander understood in ways his former team didn't, or hadn't, grasped yet. He was celebrating yes, but he was also mourning. No more moldy food meant no more trips off-world. More than his promotion to commanding SGC where he'd managed to sneak a handful of trips off-world, this move to D.C. meant he was grounded. Most likely for the rest of his life.
"So, son," Hammond gestured to the table, "I've been snacking on a few but why don't you tell us what I've been snacking on?"
Jack nodded and pointed to the first platter of cheeses and bottle of wine behind it, "Now with the Pinot Noir are three soft cheeses: brie, camembert, and feta."
"I am unfamiliar with the words brie and camembert," Teal'c stated.
"They're all cheeses, just different names for specific ones. Brie is a mild, creamy cheese, the camembert a rich, creamy cheese and the feta is a white salty Greek cheese. The brie and camembert are cut into the wedges and look pretty much the same so the fork-tine patterns on some mark them as the camembert. The crumbly cubes of course are the feta and you've had feta in those Greek salads you like ordering at O'Malley's."
Teal'c popped a cube of feta into his mouth and nodded.
"The second platter with the Zinfandel behind it has harder cheeses: Asiago cheese, blue cheese, and gouda cheese."
"Asiago?" Daniel promoted and ate some brie. "That sounds Italian."
"It is, Italian I mean, and it's got a rather nutty flavour to it—that's the white cubes on that platter. The blue cheese has a sharp and salty flavour to it and is in wedges, so is the gouda cheese which is yellow in colour and is sharp and salty in flavour with a bit of spice to it."
Daniel made a face. "I can't believe you bought blue cheese."
"What is wrong with the blue variety of cheese?" Teal'c asked.
"Blue cheese is a cheese that has had mold added," Daniel wrinkled his nose, "and it smells like moldy socks."
"Do you not consume a fruit-flavored dessert made from collagen extracted from the boiled bones, connective tissues, and intestines of animals?" Teal'c countered.
Jack chuckled. "He's got you there Daniel."
"It smells," Daniel insisted; his glasses riding high on his scrunched up nose. Pointedly, he took some camembert and ate the wedge.
Jack just chuckled again and moved on. "The last bottle is the Valpolicella." Jack frowned and he tried to remember what the shop girl had told him about the cheeses. "Well those three are all artisan cheeses and I don't remember what they're called."
"I'm surprised you knew all you just told us," Daniel teased.
"Hey, it's been a while," Jack kept his face very straight. "I can't remember everything all the way back to the beginning of the program."
Daniel gave him a curious look.
"Yeah, I've been saving up all this cheese from the first year for a special occasion—and this is it. Hey, don't look at me like that Daniel. You don't think I let you guys throw out all my science experiments now did ya?" Jack protested.
The two men, and even Hammond, cast dubious glances at the cheeses they'd just been eating. Daniel even went so far as to put down the second wedge of camembert he'd just picked up.
Jack slid a glance at Carter from the corner of his eye and even though she—his co-shopper—was looking spectacularly innocent herself, the wicked gleam in her blue eyes was just too much and he couldn't keep in a snorted chuckle. That was too much for her it seemed, and she promptly started giggling which made it impossible for him not to laugh too.
"Funny Jack," Daniel said as he picked up the piece of camembert again, "very funny."
"I thought so," Jack grinned wickedly and put his glass down on the table and clapped his hands together. "Now, who's up for a tour of the new house? We've still got time to kill before dinner is delivered."
"I would enjoy a tour of your new abode," Teal'c said.
"Before we start though," Daniel put his glass down, "what's for dinner?"
"Mexican."
"Mexican?"
"Yeah, nachos and cheeses, I figure it'll go good with the cheese." Jack popped a piece of cheese into his mouth and grinned when Daniel gave him a look. Oh, he wasn't joking about the Mexican but he was about the nachos and cheese. He'd actually ordered pozole and some other real stuff from a small ethnic place, and not Tex-Mex or anything.
"Now, the tour!" Jack stepped back from the dining table and swung his arms out. "You've seen the living room and kitchen. Follow me, and we'll go out back for a look at the back deck and backyard."
Setting off, Jack found himself rather enthused as he showed his new home off to Daniel, Teal'c, and Hammond. After showing off the deck and backyard, he directed the guys back into the house and up the stairs. When they reached the second floor, he stepped off the staircase into the small hallway and pointed things out.
"That's the laundry stuff and the bathroom is between the two bedrooms. You two will be sharing the big one," Jack addressed Daniel and Teal'c, "so feel free to bring your bags up later. There's a computer set up in the room too for a home office, but it's not really a home office 'cause I'm not willing to put up with the security needed for it so don't expect me to be in there using it. Carter might be though as she's in the second bedroom which is computer free."
Jack ignored the look that Daniel gave him at that statement. Carter was sleeping in that bedroom, just like she slept in the other bedroom at the cabin, and everything between them and the future was... complicated.
He gave a shake of his head and returned his attention to the men poking around his new house. There wasn't too much to see, the rooms had as little furniture as the first level but there was more stuff up on the walls up here from his old place than downstairs.
Jack checked his watch and realised that it was close to delivery time. "I'm heading back downstairs because the take-out should be here shortly. Feel free to look around here more and upstairs—it's just my bedroom and the really big bathroom with the jacuzzi tub but the view's really good—and I'll call you when dinner's set out."
"I'll help you put away the platters," Carter offered.
"Thanks," Jack accepted and turning they started down the stairs. As they moved down, he cast a look at the women beside him and when she gave him a small smile at catching his look, he himself gave a satisfied nod.
Yes, the future was complicated, but good.
-FINISHED
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