Title: The Consequences Of Forgetting Beer
Author: shadowsamurai
Author’s e-mail: samurais_shadow@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: I own nothing at all, I’m just playing for a while and I’ll put them back when I’m done. Please don’t sue
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None really
Summary: Jack brings Sam lunch while they’re on vacation but he forgets the beer, and he finds there’s consequences for something as dire as that!
Feedback: Gimme, gimme, gimme (if you want to, of course!)
Author's Note: I’d like think this takes place sometime in Season 4, as that’s one of my favourite seasons, but it could be any season.
Sam opened the front door to her house and inhaled deeply. It smelt musty and unused, and after she’d thrown her bag in the living room, she went around and opened all the windows and the back door. A thin layer of dust covered everything, and she sighed as she realised part of her week long vacation was going to be spent cleaning. Sam walked from room to room, her fingers lingering on certain objects and picture frames as she reacquainted herself with her personal affects. It was strange, but her own home felt more alien to her than the SG base and her lab, and she also hated not having any photos of the team in her house.
Being part of the main SG team was the best thing that had ever happened to Sam, but she realised as she started cleaning that it had meant sacrificing any kind of personal life she could have. Not that she minded really; it was just sometimes she felt incredibly lonely, especially at home.
Sam turned the radio up and started to close some of the windows. The sun might have been shining, but the wind had a chill to it, and the last thing she wanted was a cold house. She made some coffee, and patted her stomach as it made a grumbling noise. Sam opened the refrigerator to make some lunch and groaned. It was empty, of course, as were her cupboards. She shut the door and rested her head against it. Sometimes being a civilian sucked.
Sam locked her house up again and was just heading to the front door when someone knocked on it. Frowning, she opened the door, keys to her jeep in hand, and was surprised to come face to face with her commanding officer.
“Sir!” she managed to exclaimed. “I thought you could use some lunch, Carter, ‘cause if you’re anything like me, your cupboards are bare,” Jack said with a grin. Then he saw the keys in her hand and his face fell. “Oh, you’re going out. Social engagement? None of my business. Should have known. Right, enjoy your holiday, Carter. See you in a week!” Jack turned and started to walk away, leaving Sam feeling awkward.
“No, sir! Wait!” He turned around slowly. “Actually, I was just going shopping. You’re right, there’s nothing in my kitchen at all.”
“In that case…bon appetite!” He waved a pizza box under her nose with a flourish.
“Have you eaten, sir?”
How to answer that one? Either go with the honest answer and say ‘no’, in the hopes she’d invite him in, or lie and say ‘yes’. Would she be disappointed if he went with option B? “Nah, but don’t worry. I’ll grab something later.” Excellent, the unknown option C. Always a good back up.
Sam’s face fell slightly but she recovered well. Years of practice. “There’s enough pizza for both of us, sir,” she said, making the offer clear in her voice.
But Jack never was one for subtle hints. “Are you offering me lunch, Carter?”
Sam rolled her eyes, making sure he saw her, but quickly replied, “If you’d like to, sir.”
Jack pretended to think about it. “Okay, sure. Besides, all this pizza wouldn’t be good for your figure.” Before Sam could even blush as his comment, he brushed past her and into the house. “Erm, which way’s the kitchen?”
Sam rolled her eyes again. Years of practice. “Straight ahead, sir, to your right.”
“Plates?” he called.
“Cupboard to the left of the sink.”
“Up or down?”
“Up, sir.” Sam entered the kitchen to find Jack happily dishing the pizza out onto plates. “Would you like something to drink, sir?”
“Have you got anything?” he replied.
“Coffee, sir, or there might be a stray bottle of beer or two lurking in the fridge.”
“D’oh!” Jack exclaimed. “I knew there was something I forgot to bring. Beer! How could I forget that?”
“Old age, sir,” Sam replied before she could stop herself.
“Thanks, Carter. You really know how to make a guy feel special,” Jack replied sarcastically.
Sam just smiled at him as she took two bottles from the fridge and opened them, passing one to her commanding officer. “So what are you planning to do this week, sir?”
“Fish, Carter. Sleep and fish. You?”
Sam pulled a face and gestured out of the back window. “Sorting my garden out, after I’ve cleaned the house.”
Jack turned to look out at the garden and his eyes widened. “Carter, that’s a jungle.” He turned back to her. “Maybe I should take a radio with me when I go fishing, ya know, just in case you get lost in there and we’ve got to come and find you.”
“We, sir?” Sam asked, happily enduring his teasing.
“Yeah, me, Teal’c and Daniel. Hell, I’m sure Danny Boy could find new life in that lot.”
“You know, sir, if you’re that worried about me, you could always stay and help. That way if I get lost, you’ll be on site to back me up,” Sam replied, and smiled smugly as he choked on a piece of pizza.
“That, Major Carter, is the last time I bring you lunch,” Jack said in his commander’s voice.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Sam replied properly. “But you deserved it. After all, you forgot the beer.”
Jack nodded. “I did. And because we’re on vacation, I’ll let you off.”
“Thank you, sir.”
They chatted amicably about work and their vacation, the first in more time than either could remember. It was enjoyable for both of them as they rarely got to talk to each properly, and it was good that they could discuss work freely.
Eventually, though, Jack looked at the time and pulled a face. “I really should be going. I’ve taken up too much of your holiday time already.”
Sam smiled. “It was nice to have the company, sir. And the lunch.”
“Yeah. Well, next time I’ll remember the beer.” They stopped at the front door. “See ya, Carter.”
“Sir!” Sam said before she could stop herself. She really needed to learn better self-control, especially where Jack was concerned. But sometimes it was just too bloody hard.
“Yeah?”
“Never mind.”
Jack had stopped halfway down the path. He rolled his eyes and walked back to her. “You know how much I hate it when you do that. Almost as much as when you use big words I’ll never understand.”
“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”
“Well?”
“Well I actually meant what I said before. About helping me with garden. Only if you want to. Sir,” Sam added hastily.
“Carter, you’re asking me to choose between fishing and hacking down a jungle,” Jack replied in a dry voice.
“You’re right, I’m sorry, sir. Enjoy your fishing,” she said brightly.
She was just about to shut the front door when his voice drifted back to her. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning, Carter, and I’ll spring for food if you get the beer in. Make sure you get lots of it! I think we’re going to need it,” he told her.
Sam could barely contain a grin. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“Yeah yeah. See ya tomorrow, Carter.”
“Enjoy your evening, sir.” Sam waited until Jack had driven off before she jumped into her own jeep and went to the off licence. She was so happy that beer came in crates.
************************************************************************
The week went faster than Sam cared for, and it seemed Jack felt the same way. The first day, he had arrived closer to lunch time and stayed until just before dinner. The day after that he arrived closer to nine o’clock in the morning, and on the third day he was there for twelve hours. Although Sam still called him sir, things between them were a lot more relaxed. They got to know each other better, as friends not just colleagues, and they found they genuinely enjoyed each other’s company. They had always got on well, but rarely had they had the chance to relax properly together.
“I’ll need to go back to work for the rest,” Jack groaned one evening. It was fairly late, after ten, and they had consumed a large pizza and a takeaway Chinese that was supposed to feed four during the course of the day, as well as more beers than was probably good for them.
“You volunteered, sir,” Sam reminded him, but silently she agreed with him.
“Yeah, remind me never to do that again. Another beer?”
“I’ll get it.”
“No, you stay there. I’ll get ‘em.” Jack stood and swayed slightly before walking in the kitchen. He reappeared a few moments later and handed Sam a bottle.
“Sir, I don’t think you should be driving tonight,” she told him as she watched him swig his beer.
“Nonsense, Carter, I’m fine.”
“Can you walk in a straight line?” Jack looked at her.
“I can’t even do that when I’m sober.”
Sam laughed. “Well, it’s up to you, sir, but don’t blame me if the cops stop you.”
Jack pulled a face. “Fine, you win. I hope your spare room is equipped with a comfy bed.”
“Spare room?” Sam repeated, staring blankly at him. “I don’t have one. It’s the sofa or nothing, I’m afraid, sir.”
“Wha-?” He started to protest and then he caught the mischievous glint in her eyes. “Oh, you are so gonna get it for that, Carter!” He lurched to his feet suddenly, surprisingly steady, and began moving towards her.
Sam gave an uncharacteristic girly squeal and ran out of the living room. The game of chase was on, and only ended when they were both back in the living room. Jack decided that he’d had enough of playing nicely and he rugby-tackled Sam to the ground. Pinning her arms above her head with one hand and straddling her back, he proceeded to tickle her into submission.
“Do you give in, Carter?” he asked.
“Yes, yes! I give in, I give in!” she replied, breathless from laughing so much.
Jack was about to make a witty retort when he finally realised the position he was in. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was Sam’s delightful company, or quite possibly both, but Jack felt happier and more relaxed than he had done in a long time, and suddenly he wished, with a passion, that things between himself and Sam were different. There was no denying the feelings that ran deep in both of them, but the frat regs would never allow them to be anything more than colleagues, and friends.
“Sir? As much as I like lying on the floor with you, I really would like to get up now.” Sam’s voice snapped Jack out of his thoughts and back to the present.
“Oh, right. Sorry.” He clambered off her and then held his hand out to help her up. It was only when she was stood staring him in the eyes that what she had said filtered through to his brain. “What?!”
Sam grinned. “I had to get your attention somehow, sir.”
“You certainly did that,” he mumbled. As they sat back down with their beers, silence descended on them, but it wasn’t awkward. In fact, it could be called enjoyable. At least until they both reached for the last piece of pizza and ended up grabbing each other’s hands instead.
“Sorry, sir,” Sam muttered, snatching her hand away as though it was burnt.
“No, my fault,” Jack said, doing the same.
There was a clatter and thud, and Sam groaned as she realised she’d knocked her bottle over. “Shit,” she exclaimed. “I’d better clean that up.” She left the room quickly, heading to the kitchen.
But after ten minutes, Sam still hadn’t returned, and Jack went in search of her. “Sam?” he said quietly from the doorway.
“I’m fine, sir,” she replied, and her tone of voice clearly indicated that she wasn’t.
“What is it? If it’s the beer, it’ll come out of the carpet.”
Sam gave a watery laugh. “It’s not that.”
“Then what?” Jack asked.
Sam knew he was now stood right behind her, and she wanted nothing more than to turn around and embrace him. To rest her head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat. To curl her hands into his T-shirt and to never let him go. But she didn’t. “Nothing, sir. J-just tired, that’s all.”
“Carter - Sam, I know when you’re lying. You’re lying,” he said. “Look, if you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine. Just say so.”
“It’s not that, sir. It’s just…this is difficult.”
For once, Jack didn’t need that explaining. He knew exactly what Sam meant. “I know. But maybe it doesn’t have to be difficult alone.” Tentatively, he reached out, put his hand on Sam’s shoulder and turned her round, glad she didn’t resist. Her face was stained with tears and Jack hated to see her in so much pain. He drew her to his chest, and she collapsed against him gratefully. Sam didn’t cry, she just held onto him, and Jack made small circles on her back whilst murmuring comforting nothings in her ear.
Eventually, Sam calmed enough to pull back, and when she did, she was surprised to see the depth of strong emotions in Jack’s eyes. “Sir….”
“Jack.”
“Jack. We shouldn’t.”
“I don’t care. For once I want to do what I want. What do you want?”
Sam answered by kissing him. Alcohol was a wonderful tool for ridding one of those nasty inhibitions.
Hours later, both lay in Sam’s bed in a tangle of limbs, sated and content. Sam suddenly looked at Jack, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “See, that’s what happens when you forget the beer.”
“Huh?”
“You forgot beer, so I gave you punishment of helping me in the garden. We ended up here.”
Jack grinned. “I should forget the beer more often then, if this is what happens.”
FIN