amounet

New fic - Prompt 'Housepaint and Satin Sheets'

Sat, 04 Oct 2008 12:03:23 GMT

Title: Satin Sheets
Pairing: Cameron/Sam
Spoilers: None, set post season 10.
Rated: PG-13 for a gratuitous swear word in the second paragraph and sexual imagery.
Authors note: Written in response to a prompt I found last year on Sam-Cameron. I wrote most of it last year, but couldn't finish it until now. It's very light, and total fluff. Sorry. :) The prompt was: Teal’c optional – Housepaint, satin sheets. Somehow, the rest of the team made it in there as well.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am in debt, so you won't get anything if you sue. Please don't try.

Satin Sheets

Cameron is left holding red satin sheets, watching the blush bloom from Sam’s cheeks. He watches in fascination as the blush works its way down her neck and underneath the black material of her top, and he knows that it’s spreading across her breasts as well.

And damn, if he didn’t have a girlfriend once (OK, more of a fuckbuddy really) that used to flush like that just before she... he swallowed hard as his groin tightened and he tried to get the image of sparkling blue eyes wide with passion, lips parted, face flushed, out of his mind. And the image was definitely not Melissa-whatever-the-hell-her-last-name-was. She had had hazel eyes and bottle-red hair. No, no, Sam was very much front and centre in this particular image.

Oh, he was in so much trouble. How the hell did he end up in this position anyway?

* * *

It seemed like a good enough idea at the time. Landry had ordered them to take some downtime, and get off the base. Cameron decided not to mention that the good General had actually threatened to send them to midway so the marines there could drop them at the nearest Wraith planet Sheppard could come up with if they so much as put a hair near the base entry before 0700 Monday.

And because Carter and Vala seemed to have bonded in that way only two females entirely opposite to each other could since that shopping spree, Carter had offered to put Vala up at her place and invite the team round for dinner Friday night.

Mitchell was fairly certain that Jackson was nursing some disappointment at this development, but no amount of teasing could get him to admit it.

So, sitting in from of Carter’s tv after dinner, eating popcorn and drinking beer, he had been enjoying just being, well, normal for once. Or as normal as he could get considering somewhere along the line he had gained two friends who were aliens. Somehow that could never get old, or normal.

Vala had come flouncing in and announced that she was going to redecorate Sam’s guest bedroom, it was so boring, and wasn’t she the one who was going to be staying there the most anyway? What had been a little unexpected was the way Sam had immediately brightened at the idea and decided she was going to redecorate her bedroom at the same time. She and Vala had then disappeared for hours into her study. At the time, he’d had been grateful for some ‘guy time’, free of talk, and just good old male companionship.

The next morning, while being dragged around to umpteen different home and DIY stores, he was wishing that he’d dissuaded them from the task. But then, sanding, washing the walls, painting, putting up wallpaper, all that stuff was so normal. And by the end of the day, he was exhausted, dusty and damn hungry, but he felt that they had almost accomplished a normal weekend. Which, let’s face it, was a great miracle these days.

Sam dropped down on the sofa next to him and smiled, one of her open, happy grins that made him feel like it was just for him, and tucked her bare feet under his thighs.

And he just knew that he would do anything for her at that moment. And getting a free meal of the best Chinese takeaway in Colorado Springs in return for coming back the next day to put all the furniture back in the rooms and ‘dressing’ them really seemed like a good idea. After all, everyone else was doing it too.

But then Bra’tac had arrived back at the SGC and Teal’c had gone back to spend some time with his teacher. Vala had announced her boredom with the whole procedure, and Daniel finally ran out of excuses to not spend a day with her alone, and suddenly it was just he and Sam.

Making up the guestroom hadn’t been so bad really, although the intimacy of making up a bed the way he used to watch his parents do on a quiet Sunday morning before church really wasn’t lost on him. When he was young, he had loved sitting in the doorway and watching them methodically fold and tuck in the sheets, with the warmth and love that still accompanied their relationship seeming to shine out of their very pores.

But there weren’t really sheets since Vala wanted a duvet, and he was reduced to pulling the fitted sheet over his two corners of the mattress before holding the corners of the duvet in the cover. Sam, meanwhile, pushed and pulled the stubborn material over the quilt and he tried not to look down her top, which gaped enticingly as she moved.

But then they moved onto Sam’s room, which she had tastefully redecorated in black, maroon and cream. Even he had to admit that the deep red tones of the feature wall looked amazing with the contrasted cream walls. Her furniture had all been lovingly sanded and repainted in cream to look like French antiques, and the whole room was cosy but stylish.

Of course, he really hadn’t wanted to see her replace all her clothing in her bureau as he put up the curtains. Particularly as some of the items from the top drawer were satin and lace and gorgeous peachy colours which he immediately imagined peeling slowly from her flushed skin. If that wasn’t bad enough, when that was all done, and the only thing left was to make up the bed, his excuses to leave seemed to die in the back of his throat when she took out her new bed covers. Seeing her face full of pleasure at what she’d chosen, he couldn’t possibly leave without helping her finish the room properly.

And when he saw what she’d chosen, he seriously regretted not leaving as quickly as he possibly could have. The quilt cover and pillow cases was first, lovely thick cream brocade embroidered with black fleur de lis, and those he could handle (although looking down her top may still have been a problem). And then they put the covers on the throw cushions, black and cream and maroon to match the walls. The duvet, pillows and cushions were then piled lovingly onto a chair so that her slim hands could pull the last items out of the bag.

And he almost died.

What seemed like two miles of deep red satin – two square sheets really – was thrown onto the bed.

She sighed in pleasure as she ran her hands over the fabric nestled on the bare mattress before unfolding one of the sheets and handing his two corners across to him. His nerveless fingers dropped them before he fumbled the corners out over the mattress. His brain was trying to remove some fairly interesting pictures from his mind without success, but what was he supposed to think about as the silky fabric ran over his fingers?

Sam Carter, dressed in a few small scraps of peach satin trimmed in cream lace, lying on a bed of blood-red satin certainly wasn’t it, but it was the only image he seemed to be capable of. He managed to keep his mouth shut long enough to tuck the sheet in around the mattress before an oblivious Sam handed him the second sheet to go under the duvet.

"I wouldn’t have thought that you were a red satin sort of girl, Sam."

Sam still had a smile on her face as she answered. "No, I suppose a lot of people would think I’m a flannel and cotton sheet kind of girl. Goes with the military science geek kind of image that a lot of people have of me."

"That’s most certainly not the image I have of you." God help him, if only she knew what he had been thinking about all afternoon.

She seemed interested by that fact, and faced him with a curious expression, satin still wound around her hands. "Really? What did you have thought I would choose?"

"I guess something fresh and light, maybe yellow. Red and black and cream weren’t it. Satin, either, although I can see you enjoy it. But it definitely suits you." Too well, he thought.

Some of the heat behind his words must have registered, and her face flushed a little. "I like the way it feels against my skin…" She trailed off, realising the sensual nature of her comment, and her startled gaze met his across the bed, and that flush began to spread.

It was then that he realised that not only would he do anything for this woman, he seriously wanted to christen the new bed sheets with her in a way that was most definitely not Christian. Although it would help to find out if that flush really did spread across her creamy flesh the way he thought it did.

His thoughts must have shown a little on his face, and since she could read him so well, it probably wasn’t that much of a stretch for her to figure out what he was thinking. He was pretty sure that it only intensified the blush that had so interested him in the first place.

Aware that he was still staring at her openly, he cleared his throat and busied his hands with finishing making the bed. "Sorry, I, ah, shouldn’t have… you know…"

She shook her head and grabbed the offending sheet like it was a lifeline and stuttered out a sentence that didn’t make much sense, but that sounded like a vague acceptance of his insufficient apology.

He didn’t really remember making the rest of the bed, but when his overactive imagination and runaway libido where finally under control he was standing in the doorway of her bedroom next to her. Their shoulders were just touching, and he had a steaming cup of coffee in his hand.

She had a slight smile on her face as she surveyed her new room, obviously pleased with the results. He turned his attention back to the room, trying to see it through her eyes. It was stylish, but not too feminine (better than the previous, slightly frilly room they had dismantled), and the colours and textures complimented each other very well. He would be quite comfortable in here, he decided.

And immediately wanted to kill himself as his libido woke up again. He sighed and sneaked a look at her from the corner of his eyes. She was watching him, a slight smile on her face, and it was quite apparent she was doing the freaky I’m-reading-your-mind thing again. Not that her next words betrayed that fact.

"Thanks for your help today, Cam, I really appreciate it."

He sighed internally and steeled himself to turn to her and say ‘you’re welcome, Sam’ but on completing the turn and opening his mouth to speak found that he was the recipient of a soft, open-mouthed kiss from Lieutenant-Colonel-Doctor Samantha Carter. It only lasted a few seconds, with the barest stroke of her tongue against his, but he was pretty sure his heart stopped.

When it had started again, he was watching her retreating form down the corridor, and listening to the soft and slightly suggestive words she threw over her shoulder.

"You can help me make the bed again tomorrow if you want."

Kiss

Tue, 04 Dec 2007 23:16:37 GMT

She doesn’t need to look up to know that the new presence she’s sensing in her lab is Cam. She looks anyway, the welcoming smile on her lips freezing. In that one second, she knows, just knows, that Daniel has gotten to Cameron. His normally relaxed posture is off, so slightly that no-one else would notice, maybe not even Daniel. But she knows. And studiously decides to ignore it.

Easier said than done, since all she’s thought about this past day and night has been a result of that seemingly innocent conversation with Daniel the day before. She then tries to ignore the tight contraction of the muscles low in her belly that haven’t seen any action in a long time as the some of the night-time thoughts reassert themselves at this most innapropriate of times.

Not that she doesn’t realise that her feelings for Mitchell seem to have grown exponentially without any warning, but there is just something about having your best friend whack you over the head with it that makes it harder to ignore.

She doesn’t realise that she’s zoned out while staring at the clock on her laptop screen until his voice pulls her out of it. “You’ve got that look that tells me I wasn’t very successful at hiding from you.”

She jerks slightly and sucks the soft skin of her cheek between two teeth. “Not so much,” she admits ruefully.

“Big fluffy bunnies.”

She blinks at him, totally blindsided. “What?”

“It’s like trying to ignore big fluffy bunnies bouncing around the room. Not gonna happen.”

She can’t help the smile that flits across her face in spite of herself. “Is it weird that I completely understand what you’re trying to say?”

He grins an answer and walks casually across to her lab bench, his hand resting on the other side of her laptop mirroring her stance, bodies close enough that she can feel his heat, smell his skin, and be reminded of that other moment when he had stood too close to her in the briefing room and told her conspiratorily that he found it disturbing that the Asgard wasn’t wearing any pants.

The memory brings another smile to her lips, and as she did before, she leans towards him just slightly, letting her body language tell him what she isn’t quite ready to yet.

She’s not sure why, but his lips against hers aren’t what she’s expecting. Neither is the tenderness behind his kiss. It’s everything Mitchell is not – slow, soft and just a little unsure. It certainly has the right effect on her body though. The soft pressure of his lips molding to hers sends an electricity through her body that tightens her chest, stills her breath and shocks her nipples and those unused muscles in her abdomen into contractions.

She holds back the moan that wants to leak out and returns the gesture, softening her lips against his, and tries to mimic the delightful sweetness of his kiss. She is rewarded when he takes a quick breath and flicks his tongue over his lips, tasting her, before he catches her mouth again.

This time his tongue sweeps into her mouth, makes the sweetest, briefest contact with hers, and then the warmth and pressure is gone, but her body has tightened more and it’s all she can do not to grab the back of his head and pull him back. The hand at her side curls into a fist as she tries to remember to breathe and wonders what the hell just hit her.

OK, so the reaction to Mitchell’s kiss is fairly intense, and she isn’t sure why. But then, she hasn’t been kissed by anyone other than Cassie and Daniel (in that purely platonic way of course) since that whole ‘the universe has decided to dump a whole bunch of different versions of SG-1 in your reality’ episode. Or was it that another version of her had decided to dump them there? And while that make-out session with Martouf in the broom closet had been hot – the guy did have a couple a hundred years experience in kissing, not to mention he apparently had kissed another her before and really did know all her sweet spots – it didn’t even come close to affecting her the way Cameron’s slight pressure against her lips has made her feel.

She suddenly realises that Cameron is regarding her with what can only be amusement. “Do you always think that much when a guy gives you a kiss?”

She blinks at him for the second time in as many minutes, and gives into the need to touch and places the hand not glued to her lab bench on his chest, feeling the warmth of his body emanate into her palm. It calms her somehow, makes the insanity of this a little easier.

She looks at him a little ruefully. “Yes, absolutely. Especially when that guy stops when he’s just getting to the good part.” And now she wants to smack herself upside the head. What the hell did she say that for?

His eyebrows almost hit his hairline at that comment, but the grin that takes over makes more warmth curl in her stomach. He removes his hand from the bench, wraps his fingers and thumb around her hip and uses it to pull her just a little closer, the other hand mirroring it’s twin.

She either has to let go of the bench or dislocate her shoulder, so she lets go of the bench, ignoring the protesting beeps her laptop makes as her fingers accidentally brush the keyboard. Her hand lands on the other side of his chest, and she realises that she really likes being close to Cam. Possibly likes it a little too much since she is in her lab, and they really shouldn’t be doing this at work.

But the hands that had kept them anchored to reality are now firmly involved in this little moment, and she can’t bring herself to care. Her body certainly doesn’t care when his thumb slips beneath the waist of her BDU’s and finds that soft skin on the inside of her hip bone that always makes her dizzy, and her treacherous hand clenches in the lapel of his jacket, and she knows, just knows, that he has felt the contraction in her belly this time.

The flash of masculine triumph in his eyes confirms it as he pulls her hips into contact with his and lowers his mouth again.

Afterwards, she will try and remember what exactly happened, and in what order, but she will only remember moments.

Unzipping his BDU jacket so her hands can be closer to his warmth.

His hands on her bare back underneath her t-shirt, fingertips of one hand slipping underneath the shoulder strap of her bra teasingly.

Sucking his lower lip into her mouth and softly nipping with her teeth, enjoying the feel of the moan vibrating through his chest.

Running her thumb over that spot on the side of his neck that she had often caught herself staring at.

Wriggling against him in frustration, because damn, she still isn’t close enough, even though she has arched into his body, pushed one thigh in between his and buried her fingers in his hair, while their mouths cling together as they breathe each other in.

But mostly she remembers when the fear hits her chest and she flinches just a little to think that maybe this was wrong, he is one of her closest friends, what would her other friends think, what if the General finds out, and what if he died off world, what if she couldn’tsavehimohgodohgodohgod...

But he senses it, disentangling himself slowly and moving so he leans against her bench, pulling her into his arms as their breathing quiets and she calms down. She tucks her face into the perfect nook between his shoulder, neck and ear and breathes in his scent deeply. “Sorry.”

He tightens his arms slightly, and turns his head to rest his chin in her hair. “Don’t apologise, I know this isn’t gonna be that easy. For you or me. Whatever Jackson may think.”

She straightens at that, all fear suddenly gone. “And what is ´this´, exactly, Flyboy?” And that spark is back in her eyes, that smile is ghosting her lips, still swollen from his kisses.

He meets the challenge in her gaze squarely. “Well you see, Sam, when a girl and a guy like each other and they decide to stop ignoring the fluffy bunnies chasing each other around the room-”

She rolls her eyes at this, and grabs his lapels again to pull him in for a kiss. Just one last kiss before she stops this insanity in her lab and makes Cameron promise that they keep this newfound thing off the base.

She should have known that it was a bad idea even before Daniel’s voice cut through the deliciously warm haze Cameron was responsible for.

“So does this mean that I’m not going to die a horrible death for interfering in my friend’s love lives?”

Sam refuses to jump away from Cameron like a guilty teenager, even though every muscle in her body is screaming at her to do just that. She takes her time parting her lips from his, and removing her hands from his body, and is glad that the casualness in Cameron’s stance mirrors her own.

Daniel looks just too smug leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, and Sam knows that Mitchell won’t be able to resist. And she’s right.

“You may not die a horrible death, Jackson, but all bets are off when it comes to your love life. I’ll be sure to let Vala know that you are head over heels for her, and firmly in denial, and that you will need a lot of convincing to come around.”

Both of them are expecting the blood to drain from his face and for some sort of stammering retort that leaves no doubt that he is in denial, but instead Daniel just smiles, shakes his head, and an interesting warmth creeps into his eyes. “And I am just fine with that.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and shrugs his shoulders. “Just as I am fine with delivering a message from General Landry.”

He waits for this tidbit of information to register with the two Colonels before he drops the bombshell. “He says that while he doesn’t give a damn what you two do off base, if you could keep the twenty minute make-out sessions to your free time topside, he would really appreciate that. Apparently you caused quite a stir in the surveillance room.”

He notes appreciatively that Sam has turned about three different shades of red in the last few seconds, although he’s pretty sure that some of that flush has absolutely nothing to do with his announcement. He shrugs, graces them with an innocent smile and exits, calling over his shoulder, “See you at lunch.”

Cameron is almost afraid to look at Sam, unsure at how she is going to take this. He is surprised to see that she has run her thumb over the laptop’s mousepad and is staring at the newly awakened screen looking vaguely surprised. “Sam?”

“Huh.” She’s still looking at the computer like it’s sprouted a head and has started talking to her.

“Huh, what?!” He says, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice.

“Twenty-six minutes.”

Now he’s really damned confused. “Twenty-six minutes?”

He’s even more confused when she grins at him. “We were making out for twenty-six minutes. I think that’s a new base record.”

He is so relieved that it’s all he can do not to kiss her again.

A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous. –Ingrid Bergman

Fight

Tue, 04 Dec 2007 22:17:22 GMT

“Earth to Doctor Daniel Jackson. Calling Daniel Jackson, please respond.” The psuedo-urgent and strangely muffled voice of his friend startles him out of his stupor. He realises he’s been clutching the barbell and staring at the blue mat of the gym floor for... well it must be a while, because Cam is just too amused.

He glances up at Mitchell, who is grinning behind the cupped hand that he is using to imitate a radio. “Sorry, what?”

“Jackson, you have been staring at the floor likes it’s the most fascinating archaeological find of the century for at least five minutes. Wanna tell me what’s up?” Mitchell mops his face with his towel before slinging it around his shoulders.

“Ah, maybe some other time.” While his conversation with Sam hadn’t needed censoring, he wasn’t sure that his newly formed opinions of Cameron and Sam’s relationship would please Mitchell. There was a great difference between being buddy-buddy and having a laugh over a high school sweetheart, and actually initiating a serious conversation about his friend’s love life.

“Whatever it is, judging from the frown on your face, it shouldn’t wait. No time like the present, my Grandma al-” Cam grimaces and cuts himself off. Noticing Daniel’s questioning gaze, he shrugs. “Sam told me to tone down the Grandma comments. Apparently it reminds her of when she was shot. Guess the macaroon story made it’s mark.”

Daniel’s lips purse as he tries to stop a grin from forming. Too late though, Mitchell’s already seen it, and his eyes narrow. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing.” He tries for nonchalance, fails miserably, and gives into the grin. Mitchell’s eyes are now boring two holes in his head, and he can’t resist the chance to tease him. Just a little. “It’s just that there I was thinking about you and Sam and how close you seem to have gotten, and then you go and bring her up... Never mind.” Was it possible to die from the intensity of the ice blue orbs that are currently digging into his brain?

Mitchell has managed to mix scepticism into the icy blue murder, and Daniel once again isn’t sure what tempts him to fuss with his friend’s love lives. “All that time you were off in la-la land, you were contemplating my relationship with Sam? Seriously?”

Daniel decides to try contemplative, and his eyelids shutter his gaze. “Relationship is such an interesting word isn’t it? Has so many different connotations.” Even he is surprised at the reaction his subtle barb has. At least, he thought it was subtle.

“Oh, for the love of Sue, not you too?! Surely you people have better things to do with your time than try to-” Daniel’s surprise must register, because Mitchell cuts himself off, and now uncertainty is flashing across his face.

“Us people? Plural?” Daniel grins. “Who else has been talking to you about Sam? And more importantly, what have they been saying?”

“Oh, please. I don’t want to have this conversation again. Especially since I didn’t want to have it the first time round.” Mitchell reaches past Daniel and adjusts the weights for him, then steps back and looks at his friend expectantly, waiting for him to continue his workout regime.

Daniel decides that he is going to bring out manipulative Daniel. He doesn’t get much of a run these days, since Jack isn’t around anymore, and staring Mitchell down might be fun. He then decides it’s definitely fun as he watches the tough-guy exterior fade from his friend and wilt under the pressure of his pleading look. The one that says, ‘come on, you know you love me and I know you trust my judgement.’

Mitchell supresses the desire to smack his forehead. The last time Jackson looked at him like that, Vala had become a permanent fixture on his team. He’s not sure how, or why, but Daniel can make him do anything with that look. “Dammit Jackson...”

“You know it’ll make you feel better if you talk about it.” The look is still firmly in place, and Mitchell thinks he might just implode under the pressure.

“I don’t remember feeling bad to begin with. I have no problems with my relationship with Sam, which, regardless of everyone’s unwanted opinions, is just fine the way it is, thank you very much.” He thinks that, hindsight being 20/20, he may have just put a little too much force behind those words.

Jackson obviously thinks so too, since that goddamn smirk is firmly back in place. “Again with the plurals. Who exactly is everyone?”

Mitchell is practically twitching with frustration, and Daniel knows he’s won.

Cameron heaves a sigh and begins snapping the top on and off his water bottle, which Daniel tries really hard to not find annoying. When the explanation comes, it comes in a rush, as though Mitchell can’t wait to be rid of it.

“Fine. Vala commented that where she comes from, a guy baking a girl cookies was unheard of, and it obviously meant that I wanted to –insert rude adjectives for having sex here– with Sam. Teal’c then told her to shut up, as it was quite obvious that I wanted more than to –insert some word in Goa’uld that obviously means sex– with Sam, and that if I wanted to make my feelings known, baking cookies was the perfect way to go about it.”

Mitchell studiously avoids Daniel’s eyes and sits heavily on the bench. “To which I replied that they weren’t cookies, they were macaroons, and surely making a friend macaroons doesn’t amount to anything more than wanting to give a little comfort in time of need.”

“You were lying weren’t you?” It’s hardly even a question.

“Oh, god, I was so lying.” This time the urge to smack himself could not be supressed, try as he might.

Daniel has to bite his lip to stop from smiling at the resounding ‘thwack’ his friend’s palm makes against his forehead.

“So, maybe you should tell her.”

“Oh, I already did.” Mitchell waves at Daniel offhandedly.

Daniel can’t help but stare. “You told Sam you have feelings for her?!”

Mitchell’s head jerks up so fast that he’s surprised he doesn’t get whiplash. “What!? No! I told Vala to go jump off a cliff, and she got all snooty with me, stole my jello and went off in a huff.”

This time Daniel does laugh. “Now, that would have been worth watching.”

Mitchell snorts. “Anything that involves Vala is worth watching for you.”

The laughter dies very quickly in his throat. “Oh, give it a rest.” The dirty look he sends Cameron’s way doesn’t have the effect he was hoping for, since Mitchell is now the one grinning. Fine. It was obviously time to play hardball.

“Mitchell, seriously. Can I offer some advice that has nothing to do with either sex or macaroons?” He takes Cam’s curt nod as acceptance. “Fighting something like this really does take its toll on a person. And I think Sam has seen enough avoidance to last a lifetime. You should tell her.”

Mitchell sighed. “Daniel, it’s not that easy. Besides the fact that we’d both be risking our careers, I don’t even have the faintest clue about how she feels.”

Cameron is interested to note that Daniel’s eyes dart away from him quickly at the last statement. “Although, apparently you do.”

“I do, what?” His eyes are a clear blue, full of innocence, and Mitchell isn’t biting.

“Jackson, you are such a crap liar.”

“Yes, yes, I am.” Daniel shrugs and throws a half smile his way.

“And?”

“And, what?”

“Are you going to give me a hint?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, come on! What is the point of this conversation if you aren’t going to tell me?” Mitchell tries hard to conceal his exasperation as Daniel just shakes his head and makes preparations to leave the gym. He knows it doesn’t work.

He is just resigning himself to a heavy workout with the punching bag when Daniel turns back towards him. “I will say this. I’ve never seen Sam look at anyone the way she looks at you. Including Jack O’Neill.”

He waits until Mitchell’s eyes widen when the enormity of this statement hits home, before finishing quietly. “Don’t fight it Cam. For your sake and hers.”

"Every human being on this earth is born with a tragedy, and it isn't original sin. He's born with the tragedy that he has to grow up. That he has to leave the nest, the security, and go out to do battle. He has to lose everything that is lovely and fight for a new loveliness of his own making, and it's a tragedy. A lot of people don't have the courage to do it." –Helen Hayes

Smile

Sun, 25 Nov 2007 22:23:13 GMT

“Let us always meet each other with smile, for the smile is the beginning of love.” ~Mother Teresa

“You smile at him differently.” He has no idea what prompts him to say it.

“What? Who?” She doesn’t even pause in her work, just keeps tapping intently on her keyboard.

“Mitchell. You smile at him differently.”

She looks up, suddenly genuinely interested. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you have different smiles for the people you are close too.” He returns his focus to the artefact he’s turning in his hand with intense concentration, suddenly unsure that this conversation is wise. But then, this is Sam. And he and Sam can talk about anything. Right?

“You have a smile for me and Teal’c, but that’s different from the one you give Jack. For obvious reasons.”

“Daniel!” She cuts in, shocked that he’s ventured into the one area of conversation they’d agreed should never be dicussed again, after that crazy night with that crazy expensive red wine that he’d been saving for some non-existent point in the future that would be a good occasion. A good occasion turned out to be after they’d said goodbye to Jack at the Ancient outpost and he’d found Sam crying in the locker room...

He ploughs on, suddenly feeling the need to bring this to her attention. “But you smile at him with something else, something I’ve never seen in your eyes before. I wonder about it sometimes.”

She looks at him, a slight crease between her eyes. He knows she’s filed his comments for further thought. Then a devilish grin splits her face, and he realises with a sinking feeling that this is definitely a subject he shouldn’t have bought up.

“Like the way you smile at Vala when you think no one’s looking?”

And suddenly this conversation is so very over.

It’s only later that he realises that she admitted something very important to him, and he wonders if she knows.

“Everytime you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing.” ~Mother Teresa