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: Snapshots: Sunspots
AUTHOR: Rowan Darkstar
EMAIL: rowan_d1@yahoo.com
WEBSITE: http://www.beautyinshadows.net
RATING: Series is rated NC-17
ARCHIVE: Only on author's website
SPOILERS: Through "Ripple Effect"
CATEGORIES: Sam/Martouf
This is the third installment in a series of vignettes collectively titled "Snapshots: Some Kind of Love Story". The stories do not always fall in chronological order, but in an artistic one. Each of the vignettes can likely be read alone (to varying degrees), though taken as a whole they're meant to paint a larger picture -- of some kind of love story.
Massive thanks to the beta gang -- Jill, Pax, Teddy E, Kudra and Jenn. You've all made this story much stronger.
SUNSPOTS
by
Rowan Darkstar (rowan_d1@yahoo.com)
Copyright (c) 2006
"Are you making fun of me?"
"I would do no such thing." His voice was even and infuriatingly calm, but she recognized the spark in his gaze, she'd seen it a hundred times. Or maybe three or four.
"You are, too!" Sam Carter lowered her soil sample container and stared up at her companion with something between indignation and wonder.
The sun on this planet was bright and constant, and she thought Martouf's skin had darkened already in their short time beneath the merciless heat. His pale eyes seemed to have no need of sunglasses. Probably an advantage of life with a symbiote.
"I am not," he repeated. "However, Lantesh did wish to point out that the statistical configuration you've now definitively decided upon is, in fact, the one you began with half an hour ago."
His amusement was barely contained.
She narrowed her eyes, cracking a dry smile his direction. "Tok'ra humor. Just what I need."
The warmth between them burned as tangible as the sun. She found herself unusually content to be in the exact place she was standing.
"What time did you say your ship was getting here?" she asked with mock annoyance.
"They should be arriving any moment now."
"Well. We should get back to the gate, then." She tucked her soil samples into her pack, and fell into step beside Martouf on the rocky ground. The study of the terrain was only a side benefit of this mission. They were here for a rendezvous with a Tok'ra cargo ship, cooperating on a strategic mission to infiltrate the Jaffa contingent of a hot-headed Goa'uld vying for the rank of System Lord. The SGC and the Tok'ra had been unusually forthcoming with one another of late. Sam felt certain this rose out of lingering guilt on the part of the Tok'ra for the death of Lieutenant Astor and guilt on the part of the SGC for the near death of Martouf. She closed her eyes for a moment, unable to suppress the cold fingers scratching her spine when she flashed on Martouf's blood across her hands. She had been certain of his impending death. Certain she had executed him.
"Samantha?" Martouf's tone was soft on the breeze, and when she turned, his brown eyes were wide with concern. She imagined the heat of his hand warming the chill at the small of her back; didn't know where that thought came from. "Are you all right?" he asked.
Sam nodded, cleared her throat and pulled her thoughts toward the mission. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just...glad you're here."
The worry and uncertainty lingered in Martouf's gaze, but he returned her tentative smile. He seemed pleased by the compliment. She weathered a pang of guilt for being so wary of giving them. He had never been anything but open with her. "I'm glad I am here, as well, Samantha." She pretended the gentle lilt on her name didn't feel like a caring hand in her hair.
Sounds of an approaching ship swelled overhead; a deep, burgeoning roar that lit a spark of excitement in her guts.
"Right on time, kids," Colonel O'Neill called as they approached the gate. He had slipped on his shades to watch the sky for the impending arrival, P-90 loose and comfortable in his fingerless gloves. "You get your dirt, Carter?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, Rothman should be nice and giddy. Better send it through, 'cause I think they're about to start boarding first class."
"Will do, sir." She moved toward the DHD where Daniel was already dialing home. Sam let her pack slide from her shoulder, and felt Martouf catch its weight before it could hit the ground. She turned, a little startled, then gave a hesitant smile and nodded her thanks. She set to work transferring the samples from her pack to the MALP.
She was geared up and armed and the MALP was racing through light years of space when Daniel moved close beside her. "This is new," he said into the building roar of the landing ship.
"What?"
His reply was lost in the rush of dust and engines. She was left only with the twinkle of Daniel's blue gaze and the feel of Martouf's hand on her back, as he guided her towards the entrance to the ship.
*****