DISCLAIMER: Yeah, the SG-1 guys are all property of MGM, World
Gekko Corp, and Double Secret productions. This is all in fun, no
infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. All other
characters, ideas, etc., herein are copyrighted to the author.
TITLE: Flicker and Spark
AUTHOR: Rowan Darkstar
EMAIL: rowan_d1@yahoo.com
RATING: Mature 18+
CATEGORIES: Sam/Jack/Daniel OT3. Smut with a dash of angst.:)
For the Icon Fic Meme on LiveJournal. Kim asked for an
'Upgrades' fic based on my OT3 "Rush" icon. Here ya go, hon.
Hope it satisfies.:)
FLICKER AND SPARK
by
Rowan Darkstar (rowan_d1@yahoo.com)
Copyright (c) 2006
The bar fight is a visceral thrill. A wild rush he has never
felt before. He knows it's different for the others. Jack has
won more than his share of bar fights with his bare hands and no
alien power bracelet. Sam has kicked ass on her own occasions.
Daniel remembers a late night confessional involving Jack's back
porch and too much alcohol and Sam recounting a tale of her grad
school days and a back alley campus attack when she took down a 6
foot something football player who had all the wrong intentions.
But Daniel has always been the peacemaker. He is the wielder of
words and the leader of minds. Not the brute king of the herd.
He has made the gradual shift to the world of a soldier over the
past four years. He can handle a gun as well as many of the
military SGC team members. He will never be the sharp-shooter
Sam is, but for that matter neither will Jack.
But when it comes to pure physical power, to masculine dominance
and alpha behavior, he has spent a lifetime never quite measuring
up.
Tonight he is tasting that power. He knows on some level
sustaining this mindset will change him in ways he doesn't want
to change. But the high is sweet and he feels healthy and vital
in his own skin and wants to savor the sensations.
They are the last three standing and the cops are being called,
and Sam and Jack and Daniel lock gazes and know their time is
short and their freedom precious. By consent bordering on
telepathy, they race through the kitchen and out the back door of
the restaurant before the other patrons can blink and see them
go.
The alley is dim and a little rain soaked where they stop to
catch their bearings.
His blood rushes through his veins and he feels his muscles
flexing beneath his skin. The sound of wheels on the rain in the
distance is crisp and sharp; the scent of the night feels raw and
earthy and pregnant with the trickle and quiver of growth. He
can't remember feeling this right.
Sam's hair is a little enticingly tousled from the fight, and her
skin is flushed, lips pinker than the lip-gloss he watched rub
off on her Coke glass. The corner of her mouth quirks in a
delicious Sam grin. "Nice work, Daniel," she says, and he can't
deny the surge of pleasure that he caught her attention. Her
first words usually aim toward O'Neill, unless she's looking
after Daniel's bodily safety.
She glances toward Jack a moment later and the silent exchange in
their gazes is both a thrill and an ache for Daniel. Jack's eyes
are as dark as the alley shadows and there's an energy there
Daniel finds shooting directly through his groin.
"Not so bad yourself," Jack says to Carter.
"Damn that was fun, sir," she breathes.
And Daniel could swear a genuine current of electricity jumps and
leaps among the three of them, tying a crackling circle to
surround them. He tries to rationalize the sensation, imagining
an electrochemical connection between the arm band devices,
manifesting itself to hyperaware senses.
But he has hardly finished the thought, when Carter steps
forward, grabs O'Neill's face in her hands and kisses him hard
enough to make Daniel's mouth water.
Her skin flashes white in the streaks from the security lights
and he can hear every bend and crinkle of leather as she shifts
her body and rubs against O'Neill's slick jacket.
Jack has taken the bait and flown, his hands running up under
Carter's clothes, and his mouth working against hers as the first
kiss turns in an instant to a desperate kind of drinking.
Daniel is half aware the three of them are moving at their own
speed again, a blur to the human eye, and some part of him knows
they're slipping out of reality and something is very wrong and
it's all gone too far, but before he can fight his way through
the chemical high to any kind of rationalism, he's smack in the
middle of the circle of sparks and Sam's tongue is halfway down
his throat.
He wants to speak. He wants them to back off.
She tastes like cinnamon and soda and wormholes and he's so hard
against his slacks it hurts and his hands are grabbing at her
hips and he finds himself brushing against Jack's equal erection
and on contact he nearly explodes. Sam is panting for breath
against him on something like a whimper.
"God, please," she whispers. He's lost.
Flash, rush, crash, and his back is slammed against the brick
wall at the side of the alley, and Sam is flush against him, one
leg up and hooked on his hip to fit her crotch tight against his
erection.
Sam Carter's legs are open to him. He can barely breathe.
She's kissing him and pulling at his hair and Jack is shoved hard
to Sam's back and Daniel can feel the rhythm as Jack's hips move
and he can see in his mind's eye and almost physically feel
Jack's erection sliding up and down Sam's ass, her slacks tight
from her raised leg. The empathetic thrill nearly pushes him
over the edge and he's half conscious all they've truly done is
kiss and none of this should feel *this very good*.
Jack's hands are up between them and cupping and massaging Sam's
breast. Sam's massive breasts. The breasts they've all
pretended weren't there for four years straight. Four years of
hard-ons hidden behind mission binders and hurriedly removed
hats. Four years of Saturday cookouts at Jack's and Sam showing
up in a low cut blouse and leaning over and acting like none of
the three red-blooded men sharing her space should notice the
cleavage to kill for.
Sam breaks free of Daniel's lips with a raspy suck for air. Jack
has hit the spot somehow and she arches her back and tilts her
head onto his shoulder, closing her eyes. The motion rubs the
seam of her slacks against Daniel's length and he can't suppress
a deep-throated moan.
He won't be left out of the circle.
Daniel pulls at the tail of Sam's sweater, raises it to the line
of her bra and her white ribcage shines bright against the deep
colors of their clothes.
She works fumbling hands to help him push the clothes higher and
he takes the invitation and curls down to kiss and bite at her
breasts where the soft flesh is spilling over the black lace.
Holy shit, black lace.
He catches one of Jack's fingers in his mouth from Sam's breast
and sucks hard and he can't deny the thrill at the needy moan
slipping from the older man's lips.
Jack slides a hand down the flat of Sam's stomach and into her
slacks.
She cries out at the first contact loud enough to be heard from
outside the alley, and the desperate need and ache in her voice
is almost too much for Daniel to take. Her expression is
somewhere between ecstasy and pain. He knows it's all too much,
too wrong, too fast, and they're radiating a primitive heat, and
he understands they need more and more faster and faster and he's
as passionately needy for release in this moment as he is for
protein if he stops eating for even an hour.
Carter's fingers are tightening in Jack's hair and her free hand
is clutching Daniel's shoulder for support.
"Christ, Sam, you're so beautiful," Daniel finds himself
whispering as he watches the pink flush spread across her
breasts, her sweater bunched above her bra. O'Neill is
whispering something in her ear Daniel can't quite hear, but he
can't push past the raw need to thoughts of balance or jealousy.
Sam's wriggling against Jack's body, pleasure from every side.
Daniel grips Sam's thighs, and he feels the muscles quivering
like water beneath his fingers. She's all but there. Jack's
fingers are working her fast and furious and she's lost all
coherent interaction.
He has always suspected the Queen of Control needs this kind of
release, needs the complete surrender of responsibility and
choice. He almost wants to stop the rush and cradle her close
for a moment. But she's secure in Jack's arms, and her hand
moves from Daniel's shoulder to pull at the button of his slacks.
No more time for thought. He fumbles to help her, guide her.
He's still between her legs and a moment later, Sam's long
fingers are gripping him and sliding in time with Jack's thrusts,
and he can simultaneously feel the backs of Jack's fingers
against his own erection as he massages Carter.
Sam's nearly in tears now and he feels the energy build around
her like static electricity as her grip tightens around him.
He sees Jack bite into her neck on a choked moan and slam his
hips against her ass as his climax shudders through all three of
them. Sam exhales on a half-sob half-scream and she's coming
right behind Jack like a waterfall.
Sam's desperate for breath, and arching against O'Neill, pulling
her CO's head tight down against her neck. Jack is a split
second ahead on recovery and his strong hands take over where
Sam's fingers are still clutching Daniel's rock-hard shaft.
The first hard squeezes from Jack's calloused hand and Daniel is
over the edge. Sam has just enough motor-control back to grasp
at Daniel's ass and pull herself tight against him as he spills
over. She shoves forward, O'Neill moving with her, sealed
against her back, and she presses her breasts to Daniel's chest
and her mouth to his neck as he rides out the unfathomably long
rush of pleasure.
He feels her teeth grazing his neck and starts to think he could
come again in seconds.
The comedown is slow. The only slow thing in their universe in
this moment. He becomes aware of every beat and rhythm of their
staggered, panting breaths. They're tangled together, tight and
inextricable. Maybe they have been for longer than they realize
and in ways they still don't understand.
It's hard for him to imagine a life without Jack or a life
without Sam or a life without Jack making Sam laugh and Sam
watching him like he's some kind of God.
There are sirens wailing in the distance, and they know their
time is short and it's all going to fall apart.
Again with something more like telepathy than synchronicity, Jack
picks up on the train of thought. His arms move around the
cluster of them, closing them into a sheltered circle in the
shadows against the brick wall. "It's okay," he breathes.
"We're gonna be okay. We're together. We'll be okay."
He is their Colonel. Their protector.
Sam nods against Daniel's shoulder, not lifting her head, and
Daniel can feel the current of fear mixing with her rush of
pleasure and he cradles a hand into her hair and the heat wafting
off the back of her neck. Sam post-orgasm. Sam in his arms.
Time has slipped and twisted on him and he's lost the thread.
Limbs entwined, skin and heat and skin.
He imagines steam rising off the three of them in the dampness of
the chill back alley.
"We have to move," Sam says as she moves just a bit.
They hover a beat in their linked mass. Then they melt apart,
take only a heartbeat to fasten their clothes, and in an instant
they are gone, three more flickers of light along the rain-soaked
street.
******
rowan_d1@yahoo.com
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