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Look ma, SG-1 fic.... Painted Red.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Rating: Not for the kiddies; may contain: vague sexual references, adult situations, snark, het sex, soda, mockery, sugar, paperwork, blue socks and coffee.
Pairing: Sam/Jack, Daniel/Coffee, Teal'c/Ishta.
Sequel information: This is a sequel to Painted Blue http://www.livejournal.com/users/lyssie/438338.html
Season/Spoilers: Season Eight, but it's Lyssie's Virtual Season Eight, and thus, there is NO Pete, and the fic contains Sam/Jack as an established relationship.
Notes: I've been trying to finish this one since... Well, not long after the other one. One or two of the bits in here were from me joking with my roommates. I believe Timey is to blame for the bit that keeps Jack awake all night. And the Sha're thingie.
Painted Red
by ALC Punk!
There had been undressing. On both sides. And the kind of things that happened after undressing. All in all, General Jack O'Neill was feeling very proud of himself. He'd had Carter. AND, he was wearing his normal BDUs. He even had the perfect excuse for not participating. A smug grin crossed his lips.
She cornered him in the cafeteria during lunch. Cornered, in figurative terms, that is. "Sir."
"Carter."
Her eyes narrowed at his nonchalance, "You're not wearing the new uniforms."
"Yeah, and there's a reason. Seems they don't have any with a General's star on them."
Her eyes narrowed further. "General."
"Uh-oh." Daniel was looking between the two of them, then he looked at Teal'c. "Teal'c, there's that, that thing we need to translate. In my office. Right now."
"Indeed." replied the jaffa. He stood, half-bowed to Sam. "Colonel Carter, I wish you a good day."
"Thanks, Teal'c." Her tone was sweet. "I'm sure my day will be wonderful."
Jack caught the inference that his would not. But he smirked. There wasn't anything she could really do to him that wouldn't get her in trouble as well. Oh, he was sure the whole undressing thing would be off for a few days. But, really, what else could she do?
"General." Her eyes were hard (which still looked damn cute with the strangely hypnotizing BDUs. Either that, or he just liked looking at her chest). "I have work to do in my lab."
"You do that, Carter." The smirk deepened as she stood and swept away. He admired the view of her ass as she stalked out.
Yep. Those new BDUs were definitely hypnotic.
-=-
"Jack? You in there?" Daniel's voice penetrated the stacks and reams and mountains of paper that surrounded his desk.
Barely. "Yes!" He shouted back. One of the nearby stacks wobbled slightly, then settled down again. He grimaced. Never underestimate a theoretical astrophysicist with an accountant Major up her sleeve. At least, he assumed Major Paul Davis had helped her concoct this. But she was smart enough not to have said, and it wouldn't be fair to punish the man without proof. Until he pissed Jack off, at least.
"You sure, Jack?" There was laughter in the archeologist's voice.
"I don't know, Danny, why don't you come further in here and help me sign things?" Or I could bury you in one of the mountains of paper. Jack was pretty sure Walter was somewhere in the morass, but he'd lost sight of the sergeant nearly an hour before.
"No, no, I think I'll go have lunch with Sam. And Teal'c." The bastard sounded smug.
"You do that, Danny. Try and save me some cake."
"I don't think cake and paperwork mix, Jack."
Damn.
Of course, this was all Carter's fault. He glared at the sheet of paper he was scrawling his signature on. She'd arrived at his office that morning, with three SFs and boxes. Lots and lots of boxes. Apparently, there was some sort of paperwork that hadn't been done by the SGC since its original inception (he was still considering calling 'George' and bitching him out about it, too). And that paperwork had to be skimmed, signed, and sealed.
And then delivered.
His original thought had been to requisition a zat. After all, he could just *say* he'd signed it.
"Oh, and sir," the glint in her eyes should have warned him. "I've informed Major Davis, Colonel Dearing and Lieutenant Cavanaugh. The Pentagon will be expecting all of this sometime in the next few days."
Damn. No zatting it and pretending. Because if he thought Carter was evil when it came to paperwork, those pencil-pushing accountants were worse.
He shuddered. And he had to do this all by himself. Well, with Walter's help.
Speaking of which, where was the sergeant?
-=-
"Uh, ma'am, I really--"
"Nonsense, sergeant." Colonel Carter was scary when she smiled like that.
Walter was certain that if he disagreed with her again, she might do something. Something he'd regret. He gulped. "All right, ma'am. I'll, uh, stay here..." He looked around the equipment store uncertainly. "And you think all of this needs to be inventoried against the records?"
"Yes. I've been finding what I think are supply discrepancies. If they are, we'll need to apply for more materials forthwith. The Alpha Site needs this stuff." Her smile softened slightly. "I'll be sending more help down shortly."
"Thank you, ma'am." He swallowed carefully, and suddenly had a thought. "Oh, and ma'am?"
She'd reached the door, and now she paused and glanced back at him. "Sergeant?"
"The new uniforms--they, uh, they look nice. Ma'am."
She blinked at him, then grinned. "Thank you, Walter."
And then she was gone. He blushed. She'd called him Walter. Colonel Samantha Carter had called *him* by name. Then he paused and looked around at the absolute mess the store room was in. And she was evil, too. But he'd never admit that. Not even under torture.
-=-
His hands hurt, his back ached, his neck wasn't speaking to him, and he was pretty sure he hadn't actually eaten lunch *or* dinner. Plus, Jack was certain he was alone in his bed. Which sucked.
But he was done with that damn paperwork (as done as he could be without three zat shots in quick succession). It was 4 a.m., he was trying to sleep, and he was done. Yeah. His life could be better. He grimaced as his hands twitched, then settled on one side, staring blankly at the clock.
The quiet stillness of the night slowly worked its soothing calmness on him, and he slid towards sleep.
A shrill sound split the darkness, and he automatically grabbed the phone. "O'Neill."
"General. I just thought I'd let you know. I'm wearing that red thong tomorrow. And you don't get to see it."
Jack was pretty sure his brain was short-circuiting. Thong. Carter. Red thong. He'd seen it before (oh, YES, he had). And he wasn't going to be allowed to see it again. "Carter."
"Yes?"
"You're evil." He croaked, then dropped the phone back into the cradle.
He tried to go back to sleep, he really did. His aching body demanded he sleep, but there was no use. His over-active imagination was reminding him of the few (very special) times he'd seen that little red thong. It was like a whole new form of torture.
The Iraquis, he decided as dawn filtered in through the window, had nothing on her.
-=-
"Morning, Jack." Daniel was bouncy. And he had coffee.
Jack figured it wasn't going to hurt the linguist if he swiped it, this once. The first sip was bliss.
"Hey!"
"O'Neill, Daniel Jackson." Teal'c set his tray down and nodded to both of them.
Jack eyed the large amount of food, then glanced at Daniel's nearly empty tray. And Carter's--because she would arrive now. At least he'd had some coffee.
"Good morning Daniel, Teal'c. General." Her blue eyes met his brown ones, and he could swear she winked.
He glared at her. He knew his eyes were bloodshot.
"Uh, Jack?" Daniel was eyeing him.
"What?"
"Your eyes are a little red. Did you sleep well?"
Red. Little red. Images filled his brain, and for a moment he could only stare blankly at the man. Then the images flickered away again. "No, as a matter of fact, I didn't."
"Really?" Carter sounded concerned. "Do you think maybe Dr. Brightman could find something for you to take?"
Drugs. He eyed her, "Carter--"
"Oh, look at the time." She stood and grabbed her apple. "I have an experiment to start shortly. I'll see you guys at lunch."
"Bye, Sam."
Teal'c inclined his head.
Jack simply glared. And then nearly had a coronary at the way she slinked out of the mess hall. Oh, dear god. She was going to kill him before this was over.
"So, Jack," reaching over, Daniel reclaimed his mug of coffee. "What's up?"
"Carter's little red thong." he mumbled, staring at the ring the mug had left behind.
"Sounds like a band."
General Jack O'Neill growled. He was allowed to, he'd been pushed to his limits (and beyond).
And Teal'c was smirking at him.
"T--"
"O'Neill, I believe I will take some overdue leave and visit Ishta." The very large man stood and inclined his head again. "I wish you luck in your endeavors, and advise you that sometimes, the war is never won."
"You got that right," Jack muttered. "Women suck, Daniel."
"They do?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I still don't have a girlfriend," Daniel pointed out.
"Yeah, but aren't you gay?"
Daniel's lip pouted, "Now, Jack, you know Sha're was the love of my life."
"Daniel, in the Air Force we have a term for women like Sha're. They're called 'COVER'."
Now he was full-on pouting. His arms crossed his chest. "I hope Sam leaves nothing alive when she's finished."
"She probably won't." Jack said, his tone morose.
-=-
Day four, and he was safe from the wrath of Carter. She'd been drafted by SG-14 to go look at some doohickeys. Jack was very glad about that. It meant she wouldn't be tormenting him.
He was pretty sure she was wearing normal underwear before she left (it would be too embarrassing if she got injured off-world--at least, he hoped it would...). He hadn't asked to check, guessing she would probably beat him senseless, or worse.
The day was spent doing General stuff (which included unearthing Walter who was still missing).
By the time he climbed into bed, he was exhausted.
Days five and six were much the same, with Carter being off world overnight. Jack was beginning to wish he hadn't pissed her off before she left. His right hand just wasn't the same.
-=-
"Move over."
The command woke him, and he grumbled but complied. And a half-naked Samantha Carter slid into bed with him.
"Thought you weren't speaking to me."
She shrugged and looped an arm over his waist. "Got bored."
"'K." He snuggled, and buried his face in the pillow again, happily breathing in her scent.
A finger poked him. "I crawl into bed and you're going to sleep?"
"'M tired." Jack mumbled.
"Oh."
He was almost asleep again when she sighed, wriggled, and said, "I'm horny."
"Agcdh." He replied intelligently.
Sam wriggled and tossed her shirt somewhere. And now she was completely naked. Next to him. She kissed his shoulder, "Of course, if you're too tired..."
Luckily, the combination of naked Carter and almost seven days without sex were more than enough for his body and libido. "Nope." Rolling, he pinned her firmly beneath him. "Definitely not too tired, Ms. Red Thong."
"Thought you'd like that," she chuckled, before gasping as his mouth closed on her neck.
-=-
"So... truce?" The sleepy, quite sated Samantha Carter asked him much later.
"Mhmm." Jack smugly groped her ass one last time before settling down, "Just one thing."
"What?"
"You look damn hot in the new BDUs."
She snorted, then patted his shoulder, "Thank you, Jack. That makes it all better."
"G'night, Carter."
"Night, dirty old man."
Jack considered that for a moment, then objected, "I am not old."
"Mhm." She patted his arm and kissed his shoulder. "Night, Jack."
He decided he was too tired to continue the discussion. Besides, he had the feeling she was probably right.
-f-
I am now allowed to write something new...
Rating: Not for the kiddies; may contain: vague sexual references, adult situations, snark, het sex, soda, mockery, sugar, paperwork, blue socks and coffee.
Pairing: Sam/Jack, Daniel/Coffee, Teal'c/Ishta.
Sequel information: This is a sequel to Painted Blue http://www.livejournal.com/users/lyssie/438338.html
Season/Spoilers: Season Eight, but it's Lyssie's Virtual Season Eight, and thus, there is NO Pete, and the fic contains Sam/Jack as an established relationship.
Notes: I've been trying to finish this one since... Well, not long after the other one. One or two of the bits in here were from me joking with my roommates. I believe Timey is to blame for the bit that keeps Jack awake all night. And the Sha're thingie.
Painted Red
by ALC Punk!
There had been undressing. On both sides. And the kind of things that happened after undressing. All in all, General Jack O'Neill was feeling very proud of himself. He'd had Carter. AND, he was wearing his normal BDUs. He even had the perfect excuse for not participating. A smug grin crossed his lips.
She cornered him in the cafeteria during lunch. Cornered, in figurative terms, that is. "Sir."
"Carter."
Her eyes narrowed at his nonchalance, "You're not wearing the new uniforms."
"Yeah, and there's a reason. Seems they don't have any with a General's star on them."
Her eyes narrowed further. "General."
"Uh-oh." Daniel was looking between the two of them, then he looked at Teal'c. "Teal'c, there's that, that thing we need to translate. In my office. Right now."
"Indeed." replied the jaffa. He stood, half-bowed to Sam. "Colonel Carter, I wish you a good day."
"Thanks, Teal'c." Her tone was sweet. "I'm sure my day will be wonderful."
Jack caught the inference that his would not. But he smirked. There wasn't anything she could really do to him that wouldn't get her in trouble as well. Oh, he was sure the whole undressing thing would be off for a few days. But, really, what else could she do?
"General." Her eyes were hard (which still looked damn cute with the strangely hypnotizing BDUs. Either that, or he just liked looking at her chest). "I have work to do in my lab."
"You do that, Carter." The smirk deepened as she stood and swept away. He admired the view of her ass as she stalked out.
Yep. Those new BDUs were definitely hypnotic.
-=-
"Jack? You in there?" Daniel's voice penetrated the stacks and reams and mountains of paper that surrounded his desk.
Barely. "Yes!" He shouted back. One of the nearby stacks wobbled slightly, then settled down again. He grimaced. Never underestimate a theoretical astrophysicist with an accountant Major up her sleeve. At least, he assumed Major Paul Davis had helped her concoct this. But she was smart enough not to have said, and it wouldn't be fair to punish the man without proof. Until he pissed Jack off, at least.
"You sure, Jack?" There was laughter in the archeologist's voice.
"I don't know, Danny, why don't you come further in here and help me sign things?" Or I could bury you in one of the mountains of paper. Jack was pretty sure Walter was somewhere in the morass, but he'd lost sight of the sergeant nearly an hour before.
"No, no, I think I'll go have lunch with Sam. And Teal'c." The bastard sounded smug.
"You do that, Danny. Try and save me some cake."
"I don't think cake and paperwork mix, Jack."
Damn.
Of course, this was all Carter's fault. He glared at the sheet of paper he was scrawling his signature on. She'd arrived at his office that morning, with three SFs and boxes. Lots and lots of boxes. Apparently, there was some sort of paperwork that hadn't been done by the SGC since its original inception (he was still considering calling 'George' and bitching him out about it, too). And that paperwork had to be skimmed, signed, and sealed.
And then delivered.
His original thought had been to requisition a zat. After all, he could just *say* he'd signed it.
"Oh, and sir," the glint in her eyes should have warned him. "I've informed Major Davis, Colonel Dearing and Lieutenant Cavanaugh. The Pentagon will be expecting all of this sometime in the next few days."
Damn. No zatting it and pretending. Because if he thought Carter was evil when it came to paperwork, those pencil-pushing accountants were worse.
He shuddered. And he had to do this all by himself. Well, with Walter's help.
Speaking of which, where was the sergeant?
-=-
"Uh, ma'am, I really--"
"Nonsense, sergeant." Colonel Carter was scary when she smiled like that.
Walter was certain that if he disagreed with her again, she might do something. Something he'd regret. He gulped. "All right, ma'am. I'll, uh, stay here..." He looked around the equipment store uncertainly. "And you think all of this needs to be inventoried against the records?"
"Yes. I've been finding what I think are supply discrepancies. If they are, we'll need to apply for more materials forthwith. The Alpha Site needs this stuff." Her smile softened slightly. "I'll be sending more help down shortly."
"Thank you, ma'am." He swallowed carefully, and suddenly had a thought. "Oh, and ma'am?"
She'd reached the door, and now she paused and glanced back at him. "Sergeant?"
"The new uniforms--they, uh, they look nice. Ma'am."
She blinked at him, then grinned. "Thank you, Walter."
And then she was gone. He blushed. She'd called him Walter. Colonel Samantha Carter had called *him* by name. Then he paused and looked around at the absolute mess the store room was in. And she was evil, too. But he'd never admit that. Not even under torture.
-=-
His hands hurt, his back ached, his neck wasn't speaking to him, and he was pretty sure he hadn't actually eaten lunch *or* dinner. Plus, Jack was certain he was alone in his bed. Which sucked.
But he was done with that damn paperwork (as done as he could be without three zat shots in quick succession). It was 4 a.m., he was trying to sleep, and he was done. Yeah. His life could be better. He grimaced as his hands twitched, then settled on one side, staring blankly at the clock.
The quiet stillness of the night slowly worked its soothing calmness on him, and he slid towards sleep.
A shrill sound split the darkness, and he automatically grabbed the phone. "O'Neill."
"General. I just thought I'd let you know. I'm wearing that red thong tomorrow. And you don't get to see it."
Jack was pretty sure his brain was short-circuiting. Thong. Carter. Red thong. He'd seen it before (oh, YES, he had). And he wasn't going to be allowed to see it again. "Carter."
"Yes?"
"You're evil." He croaked, then dropped the phone back into the cradle.
He tried to go back to sleep, he really did. His aching body demanded he sleep, but there was no use. His over-active imagination was reminding him of the few (very special) times he'd seen that little red thong. It was like a whole new form of torture.
The Iraquis, he decided as dawn filtered in through the window, had nothing on her.
-=-
"Morning, Jack." Daniel was bouncy. And he had coffee.
Jack figured it wasn't going to hurt the linguist if he swiped it, this once. The first sip was bliss.
"Hey!"
"O'Neill, Daniel Jackson." Teal'c set his tray down and nodded to both of them.
Jack eyed the large amount of food, then glanced at Daniel's nearly empty tray. And Carter's--because she would arrive now. At least he'd had some coffee.
"Good morning Daniel, Teal'c. General." Her blue eyes met his brown ones, and he could swear she winked.
He glared at her. He knew his eyes were bloodshot.
"Uh, Jack?" Daniel was eyeing him.
"What?"
"Your eyes are a little red. Did you sleep well?"
Red. Little red. Images filled his brain, and for a moment he could only stare blankly at the man. Then the images flickered away again. "No, as a matter of fact, I didn't."
"Really?" Carter sounded concerned. "Do you think maybe Dr. Brightman could find something for you to take?"
Drugs. He eyed her, "Carter--"
"Oh, look at the time." She stood and grabbed her apple. "I have an experiment to start shortly. I'll see you guys at lunch."
"Bye, Sam."
Teal'c inclined his head.
Jack simply glared. And then nearly had a coronary at the way she slinked out of the mess hall. Oh, dear god. She was going to kill him before this was over.
"So, Jack," reaching over, Daniel reclaimed his mug of coffee. "What's up?"
"Carter's little red thong." he mumbled, staring at the ring the mug had left behind.
"Sounds like a band."
General Jack O'Neill growled. He was allowed to, he'd been pushed to his limits (and beyond).
And Teal'c was smirking at him.
"T--"
"O'Neill, I believe I will take some overdue leave and visit Ishta." The very large man stood and inclined his head again. "I wish you luck in your endeavors, and advise you that sometimes, the war is never won."
"You got that right," Jack muttered. "Women suck, Daniel."
"They do?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I still don't have a girlfriend," Daniel pointed out.
"Yeah, but aren't you gay?"
Daniel's lip pouted, "Now, Jack, you know Sha're was the love of my life."
"Daniel, in the Air Force we have a term for women like Sha're. They're called 'COVER'."
Now he was full-on pouting. His arms crossed his chest. "I hope Sam leaves nothing alive when she's finished."
"She probably won't." Jack said, his tone morose.
-=-
Day four, and he was safe from the wrath of Carter. She'd been drafted by SG-14 to go look at some doohickeys. Jack was very glad about that. It meant she wouldn't be tormenting him.
He was pretty sure she was wearing normal underwear before she left (it would be too embarrassing if she got injured off-world--at least, he hoped it would...). He hadn't asked to check, guessing she would probably beat him senseless, or worse.
The day was spent doing General stuff (which included unearthing Walter who was still missing).
By the time he climbed into bed, he was exhausted.
Days five and six were much the same, with Carter being off world overnight. Jack was beginning to wish he hadn't pissed her off before she left. His right hand just wasn't the same.
-=-
"Move over."
The command woke him, and he grumbled but complied. And a half-naked Samantha Carter slid into bed with him.
"Thought you weren't speaking to me."
She shrugged and looped an arm over his waist. "Got bored."
"'K." He snuggled, and buried his face in the pillow again, happily breathing in her scent.
A finger poked him. "I crawl into bed and you're going to sleep?"
"'M tired." Jack mumbled.
"Oh."
He was almost asleep again when she sighed, wriggled, and said, "I'm horny."
"Agcdh." He replied intelligently.
Sam wriggled and tossed her shirt somewhere. And now she was completely naked. Next to him. She kissed his shoulder, "Of course, if you're too tired..."
Luckily, the combination of naked Carter and almost seven days without sex were more than enough for his body and libido. "Nope." Rolling, he pinned her firmly beneath him. "Definitely not too tired, Ms. Red Thong."
"Thought you'd like that," she chuckled, before gasping as his mouth closed on her neck.
-=-
"So... truce?" The sleepy, quite sated Samantha Carter asked him much later.
"Mhmm." Jack smugly groped her ass one last time before settling down, "Just one thing."
"What?"
"You look damn hot in the new BDUs."
She snorted, then patted his shoulder, "Thank you, Jack. That makes it all better."
"G'night, Carter."
"Night, dirty old man."
Jack considered that for a moment, then objected, "I am not old."
"Mhm." She patted his arm and kissed his shoulder. "Night, Jack."
He decided he was too tired to continue the discussion. Besides, he had the feeling she was probably right.
-f-
I am now allowed to write something new...
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*sighs at the cuteness* :)
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Evil Sam is great.
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Have to say, though, this was one of my favourite bits:
Daniel's lip pouted, "Now, Jack, you know Sha're was the love of my life."
"Daniel, in the Air Force we have a term for women like Sha're. They're called 'COVER'."
*snickers* Reminded me of a certain scene in 'Foothold' where I *swear* alien!Daniel spends the whole thing going 'you have to believe me, I'm too pretty to be lying'. Of course, I also need some sleep.. ;)
Lovely fic, thank you muchly for posting because the giggles were needed :)
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Oh that's *fantastic*!
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Yay for Walter and Daniel/Coffee OTP!
In fact: Yay for this fic!
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And so much more fun than laundry. :)
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Thanks for giving me something sweet to read before I go to bed.
*hugs*
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Fluff! Red!! Blue!! Fluff!!
Walter lost in storage!!! Daniel! Coffee!! OTP!!!
Something new!! Yay!!
Exclamation points!!!
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This so leaves the infamous tuna torture in the dust. (nods wisely)
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