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: PLAYING ON THE EDGE
AUTHOR: Rowan Darkstar
EMAIL: rowan_d1@yahoo.com
RATING: All Ages
CATEGORIES: Angst, Sam/Jack
ARCHIVE: Yes, just let me know.
Written for the GateShip Wendesday Shorts "Red Sky" Challenge.
"Playing On the Edge"
by
Rowan Darkstar (rowan_d1@yahoo.com)
He feels like an intruder. But he has knocked too many times. Her
car is parked in front, her Indie around the side, and the lights
are on in the den. She has to be here.
He never knew Carter's backyard could be so dark. He barely
catches her profile in the ambient light.
"Did you need something, sir?"
"You didn't answer your door."
"The SGC hasn't called."
"They aren't looking for you. I am."
"Sir?" Her voice is hoarse. No warmth, no anger.
They've been home ten hours. She hasn't looked at him.
"No, I didn't need anything. Well...actually, my computer's doing
that...thing again, with the...but that's not...why I'm here."
He takes a step closer, props a foot on the step she's seated on.
She's wearing a long skirt that covers her legs, a denim jacket
too thin to ward off the chill.
"Carter. What--"
"Sir, I don't...want...to talk."
He stares at his shoes. Listens to the night for a while. "Yeah,
I got that." He takes his foot off the step and straightens. He
speaks over his shoulder as he turns to go. "Carter, we play with
fire everyday. We take stuff we don't know anything about, and we
shake it and stomp on it and see if it releases poison gas. When
we first turned on the Stargate, for all we knew it was a Goddamn
bomb that would wipe out the planet. It was a stupid risk. But
somebody has to play on that edge, if we're gonna move forward
and...get out there with the guys with the cool guns and the big
ships. If that planet you got us to would have introduced us to
some friendly, brilliant folk like the Asgard, you'd be winning
awards right now. You got burned. Now you show up at work
tomorrow and keep doing what you do."
She doesn't speak, doesn't move. He turns to walk away, and he
barely catches her whisper. "They're still alive."
Jack takes a step back to the porch, strains his eyes in the
darkness. "Yeah," he says gently. "They're fine."
"Why?"
He doesn't get what she means. Then he thinks he does. "Maybe,
Carter...maybe they're alive, because the universe knows that
somebody like you shouldn't be responsible for something like
that."
She doesn't speak for so long, he is tempted to leave her alone,
give her the time she wants. Then he hears her sniff, sees her
swipe at her face. When she speaks, the passion in her words
shocks him. "Sir...what happened to us on that planet is
everything you hate about me!" She's looking at him, and he can
feel the pierce of her blue eyes in the darkness and realizes how
much he's missed it.
Five heartbeats, and he's lost all forethought. He's down on the
step beside her, knee grinding painfully into the wood, and his
hand is cupped to the back of her neck as his lips press hard
against hers. He kisses her for too long, and she's in it so much
more than he expected, hardly moving, but kissing him back all
the same. When he breaks away, hand still tight to the back of
her neck, he can see the fire of need and pain in her eyes, and
the tear stains on her cheeks. His voice has all the darkness and
hunger in her gaze. "There is *nothing*...I hate about you."
For a long minute she breathes, puffs of fog in the cold night.
Then he sees the shift in her eyes, the wash of understanding. He
can feel the heat waving off her body, feels drawn to it like to
a fire on a cold night.
Time to walk away.
He feels the reluctance in her skin as she lets him move away.
He doesn't turn back.
She'll be at work on Monday morning.
*****
rowan_d1@yahoo.com
H O M E