all ficced up

Five Inappropriate Times Thor Beamed Jack Up

2009-11-10T03:40:43Z

Author: zats_clear
Title: Five inappropriate times Thor beamed Jack up - excerpted from the personal memoirs of General Jack O'Neill (USAF ret)
Words: 532
Rating: G
Author's note: aurora_novarum made me do it
5 Things originally posted here

You might think that Thor only beams me up when there is something important to talk about, like saving the galaxy. But no, sometimes he just beams me up to his happy little ship in the sky to ask deep questions about the human race (yes, I have pointed out that Carter or Daniel would give better answers), eat dinner, or play chess. I have beat him. Once.

The first non-emergency beaming was after a long hard day of paper pushing, briefings, and departmental meetings. Kill me now. Instead, Thor beams me straight up out of the shower.The shower! The guy has no shame.

Another memorable incident occurred during an actual inter-galactic emergency. I can’t remember the details now, what’s one more Hail Mary among friends, but suffice it to say, my entrance could have gone better. I was up on my roof having a little quality time with my telescope, the Perseids were beautiful that year, when suddenly I find myself at Thor’s feet on one knee with my hand raised (to adjust the telescope) and apparently my mouth open. The rest of my team, already in place on the bridge, had a sudden allergy attack and was reduced to coughing fits and, in Daniel’s case, body shaking silent laughter. I hope he wet himself.

Thor’s ability to pinpoint the worst possible moment to invite me over is uncanny. Like the time he almost lost a chunk of his little of his little grey butt beaming me up from the shooting range.

I almost had to remodel my kitchen one other time. Daniel had come by for dinner and while I was busy pan frying some turkey cutlets and braising some green beans, the good doctor talked about …well, I haven’t got a clue what he was talking about but he seemed pretty intent on telling me, so I just did my usual smile-and-nod. You know, he kept right on talking for another 20 minutes or more after I had been spirited away? If it weren’t for dinner being burned beyond recognition and the smoke billowing from the kitchen, he might not have ever noticed.

Then, a few months later, I’d thought it was the right time to move on from Sara, to put the past behind me and actually get involved with someone. Kerry and I had been going through this whole song and dance for a while, but it wasn’t really going anywhere. Not really. Then, what with being all broken up about losing Daniel out there in his personal never-never land again and trying to keep Carter on the ground by pretending it wasn’t any more real this time than it had been any of the last half dozen times he’d died, my judgment took a holiday and I was well on my way to screwing over a perfectly lovely woman. Which is how I wound up lip locked with Thor, my hand pressed against his nonexistent breasts, on the Observation Deck of the Daniel Jackson.

To this day, I can’t be sure if he is one of the most intelligent life forms in the universe or just another kinky alien with a weird sense of humor.

drabbles, 50% complete

2009-11-06T02:37:29Z

For the lovely and talented crazedturkey, who asked for Sam and Teal'c after Unending. Hope this is just what the doctor ordered!

Her Wait in Gold

Only minutes until Mitchell’s watch would end and his would begin. Teal’c’s eyes, adjusted to the darkness in the tent, sought out the sleeping form just an arm’s length away. Her brow furrowed, blonde hair mussed, hand clutching her sleeping bag, drool at the corner of her mouth. His eyes softened at the sight.

It had taken years; years of shared history, of losses and triumphs, of familiarity and friendship. It had taken years, but it had always been there and would be again. And until she was ready, he would be there, waiting for her.

“Teal’c, buddy, you’re up.”

------------------------------------

quarryquest had something, but then forgot it so instead asked for "Daniel and Jonas and a tin of baked beans"

Beating Around the Bush

Daniel always felt a shiver down his spine as he walked through the Langaran stargate. Odd, but expected. After all, he was his own ghost. Walking on his own…

“Dr Jackson!” Daniel, remembering Sam’s gift, reached into his pack, pulled out a can of Bush’s Original Recipe and handed it over.

Jonas bounded forward, saying “Lt Morrow told me how, at the Academy, they would go camping and place a can of beans on the campfire and it would blow high into the sky, raining beans down on everyone.”

Daniel followed Jonas, smiling. Perhaps ghosts could sleep here after all.

Author's note:
to beat around the bush: to avoid talking about what is important

___________________

For kazbaby who asked for Cam/Teal'c - fighting darkness. Which made me think of Ripples and

BLACK DANIEL: Wouldn't it be easier to just zat him?

BLACK TEAL'C: Easier, yes but far less gratifying

In the No
Cam eyes Teal’c. “They’ll know it’s your Mitchell,” he insists. He pulls away from the larger man, or rather, tries to. Wrists held tight.

“You guys won’t get away with this.” Teal’c’s face remains impassive.

“He’s wrong, you know,” Cam says. “I’d never sacrifice your universe to save ours. None of us would.”

Teal’c continues to ignore him. “Teal’c, buddy, I’m talkin’ to you here.”

Cam shakes his head. “What exactly have I done to you, anyway? This feels a little personal,” Cam remarks, touching his forehead.

Teal’c stares at him for a long moment before answering. “You said ‘no.’”

---------------------------------

For CK, who prompted with:

Once upon a time there was a handsome king named Daniel who was in love with the Captain of his personal guard, Jack...

*Uh, yeah. This is not the droid you were looking for. I'll come up with another one for ya later*

and for codo1019.livejournal.com, who wanted Sam and Jack, of course.

Somehow, those two prompts came together for 200 words of this:

The Power of Words

Fourteen year old Cassie shifted uneasily from foot to foot, looking everywhere but at her mother or Sam or the paper her hands.

“Read, honey,” Janet asked again.

Sam smiled encouragingly.

Cassie cast a pleading look, and read.

Not so long ago, there lived a handsome knight. Jack was brave, and strong, and good, and so it was no surprise when he was lost far, far away on a quest.

Words tumbled past her lips.

The beautiful wise woman, the blue-eyed mage, and the dark warrior would never give him up and searched stars and all the heavens for him.

***

Sam drove too quickly down the streets of Colorado Springs, scrubbing slow, insistent tears from her face. Cassie had faith.

She had all but given up. 86 days and counting. On her. Everyone was counting on her. Daniel still tried to generate good will with their allies. Teal’c called in favors from god knows where. But the shortest way between point A and point B…well, she was always the straight man in this comedy act.

The car behind her honked; the light had changed. Her house was left, but Sam turned right. The Mountain.

The stars and all the heavens.

Toasted, G

2009-05-25T15:28:57Z

Title: Toasted
Author: zats_clear
Words: 264
Rating: G
Author's Notes: Follow up to a comment!fic - So, naked? - because I cannot bear to see a Princess beg...

"I do not think this to be a wise idea, O'Neill."

"Don't worry, Teal'c. He'll thank us later. Just stay down behind the ferns"

"I fail to see how spying on DanielJackson during an intimate encounter would be an activity he will thank us for later."

Jack cast a stern look across the table and put his fingers to his lips.

"Have I missed anything, sir?" Sam, out of breath, slid into the booth next to Teal'c.

"Remind me to never take the two of you on a stakeout."

"So what's the plan if she makes a move on him? Emergency call to the cell phone? Crashing their party because we were all out, too?"

"I was thinking maybe a fire alarm."

"Are there not laws on your world prohibiting this type of behavior?"

"Shhh! Aht! Carter, what's that?"

"I think he's telling the Giza story, sir. It looks like he's...he's flirting!"

"Fercryinoutloud, now what do we do?"

"Plan C?"

"Excuse me," the waiter interrupted as he carefully placed 3 shot glasses on the table. "Compliments of the gentleman over there."

Daniel smiled and raised his glass to the horrified trio. The waiter produced a long-necked lighter and lit their drinks, handing a straw to each.

Jack shrugged, blew out the flame, inserted his straw and drank.

"Hmm, mint. And ... bananas. Carter?"

Sam shook with silent laughter, face in her hands.

"I used to bartend during the summer, sir. We've been had."

Teal'c's lifted eyebrow spoke volumes as he looked to the now empty table where Daniel and Lt Lombardi had been seated.

Recipe for a Flaming Asshole
1/2 oz grenadine syrup
1/2 oz green creme de menthe
1/2 oz creme de bananes
1/2 oz overproof rum

Layer in this order: grenadine, creme de menthe, banana liqueur, white rum. Ignite rum before serving. Serve with a straw.

So, naked? - G

2009-05-23T17:54:50Z

Title: So, naked?
Author: zats_clear
Words: 200
Rating: G
Author's Note: originally posted here in jackdanielpromptfic for the line prompt "So, naked?" unbeta'd because it is comment!fic and I am impatient LOL. All errors are mine and mine alone.

"So, naked?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Jack."

"Who's talking about it?"

"Um, you?"

Daniel looked at Jack with exasperation, sighing to emphasize this latest test to his patience.

"It was a ritual, Jack. I had to gain their trust and quite frankly, it was the fastest way."

"Are we talking about SG-9 or the Skittles?"

"Skt-leeze."

"Whatever."

Jack fiddled idly with the magnetic paperclip sculpture on the corner of Daniel's desk.

"So I understand you have a date tomorrow night."

"Who told you...it's not a date, Jack."

"You may want to clarify that with Lt Lombardi."

"Rebecca just wanted to talk about her doctoral thesis and..."

"Did she decide this before or after you 'gained the trust' of the Skt-leeze?"

"Umm...," Daniel's face reddened.

Jack grinned, squeezing the stress ball a few more times before tossing it to his friend.

"Here, you might need this more than me," he said conspiratorily.

Sam Carter walked down the hallway, passing a smiling Jack O'Neill on her way to Daniel's office. She peered into the semi-gloom to see Daniel, head in arms on his desk, squeezing a pyramid shaped stress ball with force.

She paused in the doorway. "So, naked?"

Where I remember that I do write...

2009-01-30T19:24:45Z

gakked from aurora_novarum
Comment with a story I've written, and I will tell you something I knew, learned, or wondered about while writing it that didn't make it onto the page.

</lj>

Checkered

2008-11-18T14:25:03Z

Title: Checkered

Author: zats_clear

Summary: Daniel's subconscious might have an opinion about Cam. Mid Season 9, when Cam is still between fanboy and team leader
Warning: slash
Rating: R, unless CK tells me otherwise
Word Count: 500
Disclaimer: no rights, no money, no nothin'
Archive Rights: none, like you really want to...

Mitchell walked back in and set the phone on the base. "That was Sam," he said. "She and Teal'c are going to be working on something for the next mission and can't get away right now." He surveyed the kitchen - chili bubbling on the stove, cornbread in the oven, salad and cold beer in the 'fridge. "But hey, you're here, Jackson," he said brightly, "and we can use this time to get to know each other better."

Daniel mentally went over the list of things he was going to do to Sam and Teal'c the next time he saw them, none of it pretty, and tried for a smile. It was going to be a long night. He'd seen the pile of games Mitchell had laid out for this foray into team building. Bowing out himself would be like kicking a puppy right in the teeth. A bouncing yappy little puppy that was looking at him like a tasty new bone to chew. Fabulous.

He cracked a beer, at least Mitchell had taste in libations, and raised an eyebrow to his new best friend, offering to snag him one while he was there. "Yeah, why not. Nothin' like good beer and good food to loosen the tongue," he said as he took the bottle from Daniel.

Two hours later, Daniel felt his tongue was well and truly loosened. Loose enough to wrap around Mitchell's cock as he moved his mouth over Cam's shaft - oh dear god, Daniel about lost it there with a drunken giggle - his hands gripped hard thighs in an effort to remain steady. He'd finally found a way to shut Mitchell up and he was ready to play it out for all it was worth. He tried not to choke as Mitchell pushed hard, hitting the back of his throat before losing it in one long pulse. Daniel pulled back, wiping his tearing eyes and backhanding the drip from his nose. Brutally aware of his own erection and unsure of where to go from here, he sat on his heels.

As usual, Mitchell made the decision for him with all the grace and subtlety of a labrador retriever. He felt himself being tipped back, legs under him, effectively immobilizing him into what had all the trappings of a very submissive position.

"Your turn, Jackson," Mitchell touched his shoulder.

"Jackson, your turn," repeated Mitchell, shaking his shoulder more insistantly.

Daniel opened his eyes abruptly, confused. He was still fully dressed, his elbow on the arm rest, staring at a checker board as his hand shaded his eyes. He raised his face to look at Mitchell, blue eyes meeting blue, countering Mitchell's quizzical expression with a more contemplative one of his own. Daniel blinked to refocus on the very real Cameron Mitchell and glanced at the game. He made his move, jumping across the board wiping out Mitchell's game completely and landing in front of him.

He leaned back, smiling smugly over tented hands. "King me."

Accentuate the Obvious

2008-10-04T21:09:25Z

Title: Accentuate the Obvious
Author: zats_clear
Summary: This is what happens when someone suggests something that strikes my fancy. See here or just understand that starglyphsaid "would it help if I got down on my knees"...which just struck me funny.
Warning: um, pissy!Daniel, character death, mild humiliation, slash...basically, my kind of story. Probably R
Word Count: 460
Disclaimer: no money, no rights, no nothin'
Archive Rights: none. not that I have any control or anything but srsly, why the hell would you want to??

"Would it help if I got down on my knees?"

Daniel narrowed his eyes, staring Jack down from across the room while his words sliced the air between them to ribbons. Jack winced. He certainly had not been implying some kind of subservient behavior when he suggested that Daniel needed to get over himself and bend just a little on this one, but it was a fine line between persistant Daniel and seriously pissed off Daniel and apparently, he'd jumped it.

"Daniel, don't be an ass," he said and started walking back to the gate.

***********************

"Would it help if I got down on my knees?"

The words, only a choked and tear-filled whisper, were heartbreaking and Jack paused for a moment to turn and look. Daniel sprawled on the muddy ground as he clutched the obviously dead man next to him, looking up. Pleading. Jack hung his head in resignation. Daniel, you cannot start bargaining with a God you've ignored just because there's nothing else left to try. A hoarse sob escaped the man at his feet. "Please," he begged. Jack felt the inescapable pull, was helpless to stop it. He wasn't Daniel. There were no bright lights, no greeting parties, no coming back. "Jack, you can't die. Not like this." Apparently, he could.

***********************

"Would it help if I got down on my knees?"

Daniel asked him gently. "I have a longer torso and you are a few inches taller and I think if you stand on my shoulders between the two of us, there's enough height that you can see over the wall and figure out how we're getting out of here." There were a lot of reasons he wasn't in the field on a regular basis anymore and having his team protect his ego was certainly right up near the top. Jack heaved a wounded sigh and took Carter's outstretched hand to help him up as Daniel braced against the wall.

***********************

"Would it help if I got down on my knees?"

Daniel's breath against his ear was doing as much for his libido as the suggestion itself. The younger man matched action to word, slowly turning on the edge of the bed, not losing skin contact as he maneuvered the two of them to a more suitable position for the task. He slid his hands down the back of Jack's thighs, pulling him closer, and then stretched his arms over his head and around an acquired pillow as he lowered his shoulders to the mattress. "Batter up, big boy," he murmured into the pillow. Jack smiled as he rounded third base and slid home. Who the hell knew they'd been playing baseball all these years?

Mr Sandman, R [Burn Notice]

2008-09-26T17:59:00Z

Title: Mr Sandman [Burn Notice]
Author: zats_clear
Words: 266
Rating: R for innuendo
A/N: so I was im-ing to CK...and this is what happened.

ETA: Please head over to see the instant, unauthorized birthday remix by CK!!!! Chicken really does make everything better LOL

Michael felt the bed dip beside him. "Fi, really. I thought we talked about not sneaking into my apartment late at night." Silence. "I'm not buyin' the 'you had a nightmare' thing again." Nothing. "Fiona?" Michael queried as he turned over.

A hand flipped him onto his back, forearm pinning him to the bed as a decidedly masculine voice purred in his ear. "I believe sneaking around is your forte, Michael. I seem to recall that Fiona prefers blowing things...up."

"Victor," said Michael resignedly. "Really, you need to do something about your breath. A mint, perhaps? And a little work on your come on wouldn't hurt either."

"I'm pretty sure I've got you right where you want me, Michael," Victor murmured as he stretched cat-like across him, weighing him down with possibility. "As far as 'coming on?' Well, that's up to you..."

Hard pounding at the door startled him and Michael sat up in the dark, disoriented. He shook his head and tried to focus. No one there. The pounding continued. "Yeah, just a minute," he yelled, tangling himself up in the sheets as he struggled out of bed.

Fiona breezed past him as he opened the door, flipping on a light as she turned to face him. Whatever she was about to say evaporated on her lips as she looked down, then up at his face with a filthy grin.

"Awfully happy to see me, aren't you?" she said silkily, sidling up to him. He pushed her back and turned, still looking around the room for the midnight visitor who was all in his head.

it was a dark and stormy night...

2008-09-16T01:15:56Z

Title: it was a dark and stormy night
Author: zats_clear
Summary: A gen fic birthday gift for sg_fignewton
Rating: G
Warning: juvenile humor, all dialogue
Word Count: 321
Disclaimer: no rights, no money, no nothin'
Archive Rights: none, you really don't want to anyway!
Author's Notes: originally posted here with everyone else's birthday ficlets. Given the once over by my betababes, muck_a_luckand aurora_novarum (who gave me the title). All errors my own. Welcome to my little experiment with all dialogue! ~~Hope it works!~~

"DanielJackson, would you please remove your boots from my lower back?"

"Why don't we all just take off our boots?"

"Oh. No. I, um, don't think you want me to take off my ..."

"Carter, if he takes off his boots, we may never recover."

"Really! Like you're some kind of rosebud yourself, Jack?"

"I'm not sayin' that, it's just that your feet are in a class all their own!"

"I regret that CaptainCarter and I did not properly secure our tent for such weather."

"S'alright, Big Guy. We're still on a bit of a learning curve here."

"Honestly, the MALP readings should have indicated that we could expect these high winds and heavy rains. I'll need to look into a better forecasting program when we get back to the SGC."

"Whose hand is that?"

"Oh, sorry. I was just looking for a safe place to put my glasses while I sleep."

"And you were thinking they would be safe in..."

"Holy Hannah, what is that?"

"Welcome to my world, Sam."

"CaptainCarter, I believe we will continue with the standard bunking assignments when off-world."

"Oh, fercryin'outloud, I would not have eaten the Chili Mac if I'd known we were all going to be so up close and personal."

"Well, Jack, you did mention we should plan on an evening at your place to get to know each other better."

"Yeah, but I was thinking burgers and beer, not raindrops and roses."

"I do not see any roses in this tent, Colonel O'Neill."

"And maybe a movie. To bring Teal'c up to speed on your pop culture references."

"Anything but sci fi. I hate that space stuff."

"Hey, did the rain stop?"

"I'll go see if I can find our tent, Teal'c."

"I will assist you, CaptainCarter."

"Don't let the tent flap hit you on the way out!"

"I think I'll just, uh, go and, uh, help them."

"Ahh, finally. Some free space."

Bending the Light: 5 Sam and Cam's that weren't, G

2008-07-21T19:13:51Z

Title: Bending the Light: 5 Sam and Cam's that weren't
Author: zats_clear
Summary: Five ways that Sam and Cam never happened
Rating: G
Warning: These are AUs. Never happened. Not in our universe!
Word Count: 1069
Disclaimer: no ownership, no money made, nothin'
Archive Rights: none. srsly, I can't imagine why you would want to!
Author's Notes: There I was, happily working on Fly-by, a story about how Sam and Cam have known each other for like, forever, when my mind kept jumping to all the instances that never ever happened. No way, no how. Thanks go to muck_a_luckfor indulging my whims when I felt I just had to inflict these on someone! Posting unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own (and I am not above fixing them when they are pointed out)

Sam could get lost looking into those beautiful blue eyes. Her fingers gently stroked through soft hair as she hummed quietly. His parents had been completely against him enlisting in the Air Force. Her parents made it clear they disagreed with the two of them getting married and Sam leaving the Air Force Academy.

Stubborn. Willful. Young. These and other words had been thrown around in heated family discussions over the past seven months.

Sam smiled to herself. Determined. Motivated. Strong. Those were her words. She'd finish school at the local community college. It might take a little longer but she'd do it. Cam had already started taking classes three nights a week. When they had their degrees, both of them would apply to Officer Training School and be commissioned. Different path, same destination, Mom.

She heard the screen door slam. Was it 5pm already? "We're back here," she called out. Cam's boots echoed off the walls in the narrow hallway leading back to the bedroom.

"How are my best girls this fine evening," he murmured, leaning over Sam's shoulder to capture Ashlyn's tiny hand between his fingers.

*********************

Dr Carter sat down on the hard leather sofa in the General's waiting room. The meeting she was about to go into was not going to be much more comfortable than this godawful couch. The Oversight Committee in Washington was insisting they bring their budget in line with Congressional expectations while simultaneously demanding more to show from the years the program had been in place. Sam fully anticipated being asked to cut a significant number of people from her staff at the SGC.

She sighed, noting she was five minutes early, and picked up a copy of the Air Force Times to read while she waited. It hurt, but she always read The Human Toll, the section of the weekly paper containing pictures of service members lost in the operations overseas. They gave their lives in support of their country's ideals and way of life, whether they agreed with the current action or not. The least she could do was to honor them with remembrance.

Army Sgt 1st Class Casey Farlow, 29, Mar 25, Waygul, Afghanistan
Army Pfc Keiran Miller, 18, Mar 28, Barikowt, Afghanistan
Air Force Maj Cameron Mitchell, 32, Mar 28 Sabari, Afghanistan

The dark paneled door opened. "Dr Carter?" General Hammond gestured wearily, indicating he was ready for her. She carefully folded the newspaper and returned it to the neatly fanned magazines on the table and followed him into the office.

*********************

Wendy stared after her teenage son as he stormed past her and down the hallway. She looked questioningly at her husband, following in Cam's violent wake.

"He's colorblind, Wendy," Frank said with sad resignation. Slam. The door to Cam's bedroom shook the house. "He can't fly for the military."

She leaned against the wall, unsure as to how to take the news. In her mother's mind, it was a raincloud with one heck of a silver lining. Her son had been eat-sleep-drinking the idea flying military jets since he could focus on the sky, and there was no way he'd be Air Force if it wasn't in a cockpit. One less of her boys to worry about.

The boy in question burst out of his room clad in shorts, ripped t-shirt and running shoes. He stalked past his parents, eyes focused on a future that wasn't there.

Wendy reached out, "It'll be ok. God has another plan for you, honey."

Cameron turned sharply. "I don't much care for what God has in mind right now," he said, sounding suddenly older, more bitter, than his 16 years.

"Cameron," his mother admonished, starting after him as he broke into a sprint.

"Let him go, Wendy," Frank said, pulling her back into the house. "Let him go."

************************

"Mom," Sam said, trying to wedge the word into the flood of motherly guilt pouring from the phone. Jack looked up and smiled, sad and amused at the same time.

"Mom," she tried again, raising her eyebrows and grimacing in the general direction of her fiance. "We just can't leave right now. There are too many things that need to be wrapped up and Thanksgiving is not going to work." Jack cocked his head and raised a quizzical eyebrow of his own.

"I know, I know. But we can see you at Christmas," Sam winced at the lie.

"I love you too, Mom."

"Yes, I'll tell him."

She hung up the phone and turned to Jack. "She doesn't really believe me."

"You were never a good liar," he replied. "Don't knock it. That's a good quality."

"Well, how do you tell someone the world is going to end before Monday?"

Sgt Harriman stuck his head in the door as he knocked. "Sorry, sir, Dr Carter," he apologized, glancing at Sam as well. "NORAD has just picked up Apophis' ships on radar."

*****************************

Jenny's light giggle carried across the campground to where Sam stood staring at the bus' engine. She pursed her lips, brows furrowed together, as she watched Jenny tilt her head to look up at Daniel from under her lashes. He blushed slightly, smiled, and unconsciously continued his appreciative stare at what was quite obviously on offer there before him.

"What part of 'don't change the past'" do you guys not get," Sam muttered under her breath, frustrated with her team. She'd already stopped her CO from revealing more information than he should about current events, Teal'c was just...curious. About everything. And now Daniel was sweeping little Miss Hippy Chick off her feet. Soon to be literally, it would appear. They were walking down to the nearby stream and words like "cooling" and "clean up" were drifting across to her and oh my god, she could see where this was going and it had to stop right now!

"Jenny," she called out brightly. "Why don't you come over here and I can show you a few tricks to keep the engine working." Sam gestured widely, using enthusiasm and helpfulness to effectively douse the fire beginning to kindle across from her. Reluctantly, Jenny Mitchell trudged over to Sam for an engine tutorial, looking back at Daniel as he continued down to the water to wash in what was a still an interesting but now less limited gene pool.

repost of the Daniel picspam - un-flocked and now with RP caps...this won't happen often

2008-07-07T18:45:34Z

and now

Yeah, I look like a dweeb in this hat. What of it?

Ahh, The Wonder That Is Daniel...

Ok, so if my head gets lopped off early in the episode, at least I have this great profile shot.

This look melts their panties off every time

Damn, this must be what Judge feels like every morning when he wakes up.

Bitch, please

Oh the pain, the anguish, it should have been me...crap, who the hell am I fooling...It's sucking your head off, Rick.

Uh, you want to sit here? You better have showered.

Amanda, I found your wedding ring in the grass...

So that head sucking thing...how's it feel again?

With the right lighting, a few good props...I can do the Indiana Jones thing

Silk pajamas and a bondage collar? This is only marginally better than that leather fetish set you had laid out earlier...Wood, you got something you want to tell me about??

NO, I am not compensating. I am doing my job. Really.

Hate to see him go, looooove to watch him leave...

~~Hmph. Tastes like chicken...~~ Linguists do it with tongue

Hemp chafes.

Why do I feel like somebody's breakfast in this scene?

Yeah, well, DeLuise does have a thing for me.

Betcha there'll be no complaints about this wardrobe.

*is wearing nothing under his robes*

...and throw away the key?

...leave me standing out here alone on set until I figure out the right buttons to push. I'll show you what buttons to push!

I know there wasn't a lot of room on the set , but srsly, a toddler bed?

I think I swallowed my glasses...

I thought we moved off Showtime...

The End

Bonus Slash Footage...

Stop

That

Jack!!

Fly-by by zats_clear

2008-06-02T15:51:13Z

Title: Fly-by (formerly known as "Ten Times" when my brain would not give me a real title!)
Author: zats_clear
Word count: 2973
Rating/Warning: Gen
Spoilers: none
Prompt: Sam and Cam, backstory. Written for the sg1friendathon

Many, many thanks to muck_a_luck     and abyssinia4077     for letting me bounce ideas off them about all the ways Sam and Cam knew each other, reading the bits of story outline and actual paragraphs I would IM to them over the last few weeks, and going over the ~~finally, thank god~~ completed story. Additional hugs to aurora_novarum     for being an amazing resource for so many details I could almost remember but could not quite place. All errors are mine, but trust me, without these three, there would have been more!

Big blue eyes looked up, defiant and tearful, the toy clutched tightly in her tiny little hands.

"Ayepwrane for baby," the toddler stated, and handed the varnished wooden plane over. Mother and daughter stared at each other for a long moment, a silent battle of wills, before the woman gave in.

"Ok, Samantha," she shrugged with resignation. "We'll get the airplane for Mrs. Mitchell's baby." She took her daughter by the hand and walked to the front of the store. "I certainly hope she's having a boy..."

***************

Mark fiddled with the dials, trying to bring up something other than static on the short wave radio, his eyes tight with frustration. Thirty minutes of bad reception was wearing thin on the pre-teen and his friend.

"Maybe you should just ask your sister," the boy beside him muttered.

"No way! She'd just fix it and then I'd never hear the end of it," Mark whispered, shooting angry glares at the blonde girl just outside the window. Oblivious, she tossed the ball for the family dog.

"Yeah. She'd fix it. You know, make it work? And then, if we're lucky, we might just catch the end of Moscow Mailbag."

"Cameron, you don't know what it's like," Mark said. Defeated, he got up and knocked on the window, motioning for his sister to come in. "She always makes things work, and that's just..." As his sister came to the doorway, he fell silent and simply gestured towards the table.

"Sam, what you're brother is trying to say is, we need help," Cameron diplomatically supplied.

"Oh, that's easy," Sam turned and left the room. Mark looked at Cameron and raised his eyebrows. See? Cameron shrugged. I don't know, she's your sister. A voice echoed from the other end of the house, "Now try it." The presenter’s voice blasted from the radio and both boys rushed to turn the volume down. "You left the TV on in the living room." Cam stared at her in confusion. "It interferes with the short wave reception and you need all the boost you can get to tune into that Cuban transmitter for your show."

Mark's eyes began to glaze over while Cam listened appreciatively to the thorough description of the hows and whys of short wave radio interference. Sam, satisfied that she'd taught at least one of the boys to fish and had not just handed over the fillet, returned to the side yard to play with the dog.

Cameron grinned widely, "Man, you're sister's amazing!"

Mark turned away, shaking his head in disbelief, "I think I'm gonna be sick."

***************

"I don't want to be around you either, so we're even!" The slamming door reverberated through the house, through her head, matching the pounding of her heart and her angry, harsh breaths. Sam sat on the bed, clenching and unclenching her fists. It wasn't fair. It totally sucked. Why her Mom, who was always there, and not her Dad, who was never there? Even when he was. If he'd been on time. If he'd been where he was supposed to be. Just. Once. None of this...

She twisted violently and punched at her pillow, over and over, before finally crushing it to her face and sobbing. The late afternoon light faded as the anger drained away, leaving her with swollen red eyes and a head full of snot. Avoiding her mirror, she crossed the room to pick up the latest in an omnipresent stream of sympathy cards and letters. Kansas. Humph. She'd seen its' twin earlier on Mark's desk. Sam carefully slit the envelope. Numb, patient, on autopilot. The card was blue, with flowers. And flowery words that meant nothing. She opened it to see what Kansas had to say.

Samantha, it gets worse before it gets better. But it will get better, honest. take care of yourself, Cameron Mitchell

***************

Fourth Class Cadet Mitchell walked on the line at the edge of the hallway, head tucked, back straight, eyes forward. Destination: Mitchell Hall for the few bites of food he'd be able to swallow chew seven times only, Smack before it was time to march smartly to his first class of the day. A flash of short blonde hair and blue eyes caught in his peripheral vision and before he could stop himself, he stopped himself, causing a cadet pile up guaranteed to attract the wrong kind of attention.

"Samantha!" the name spilled out of his mouth amidst the curses and frantic shuffles of his victims. The blonde stuttered a step as another upperclassman turned on Cameron like a rabid dog. Backing him tightly against the wall, nose to nose, the 19–year-old boy began a barrage of insults and interrogations that flew past Cameron faster than he could begin to formulate answers. He was vaguely aware that the others he'd tripped up also found themselves with new best friends. He'd be catching hell for this later.

"Did I hear you speak, Smack?"

"Did you dare to address your superior without cause?"

"Why are you looking at me? Did I tell you to look at me?"

Cameron's tormentor paused briefly, "Do you know this ignorant smack, Cadet Sergeant Carter?" he threw over his shoulder.

"Not at all, sir," came back without hesitation, and the girl walked on.

"What do you have to say for yourself, Smack?!"

Spinning quickly in his mind, Cameron pulled out the only one of the "seven approved responses" that would apply to the ridiculous situation he had gotten himself into, "No excuse, sir."

"Altimeter Check!" Spit hit his face.

"Sir, my altitude is 7,258 feet above sea level; far, far above that of West Point or Annapolis."

"Code of Conduct!" Onions for lunch? Seriously?

"Sir, Article One. I am an American fighting man. I serve in the forces which guard my country and our way of life. I am prepared to give my life in their defense..."

Cameron gave up on any possibility of chow and began to silently pray he'd make it to class on time.

***************

An unseasonably cool wind blew hard at Cam’s back as he hiked out to the Upper 2nd lot on the north end of the Parade Field. If not for the fact that he really really wanted some downtime, a good meal, and the chance to make a private phone call home, he would most certainly not be catching a ride out to his sponsor family's home with one Cadet Samantha Carter. Not that he's real sure what else she could have said, but to leave his ass hanging out there like that last year just seemed uncharitable.

As he approached the lot, Cam could see that she had reached her car before him and was waiting in the driver's seat. He picked up the pace, plastered on his best farm boy grin, and climbed into the thankfully warm vehicle. She avoided his eyes as she said hello, started the car and backed out. His good manners deserted him for a few miles as he let her stew before the voice in the back of his head chastised him. Their two sponsor families were neighbors, friends even, and he was sure this was not going to be the last time he caught this train out to the suburbs of Colorado Springs.

"So what are..."

"I really didn't know you'd..."

With an embarrassed smile, Cam made a sweeping motion with his arm. Sam looked at him gratefully, taking a deep breath. "I'm so sorry about last year. I had no idea it was you until after I talked to Mark at Christmas," came out in a rush. Her shoulders relaxed, apologies made. "You really did look different."

"What, you mean the shaved head and scared witless thing didn't ring any bells for you?" Cameron laughed.

"You know, that really was funny. Like a train wreck, right there in the middle of the hall. You have no idea how much grief I got over that! Blue Eyed Babykiller. Smack-Down Sam. 'Where's your boy toy, Carter?' It went on for months!"

Cam shook his head with a wry smile. "You don't want to know what happened on my side of the locker room," he said. She raised her eyebrows and tipped her head in a question. "Really. It's just not polite."

Sam tried, unsuccessfully, to suppress a giggle. "I heard."

"Oh, man! That is so wrong!"

***************

Cam sprawled across the table in the darkened classroom, long legs draped over two chairs, mouth open in a silent snore.

"Mitchell!" his fellow student barked out as he walked into the room, flipping on the bright overhead light. Startled, Cam flailed madly, and landed in heap on the floor

"Yeah. Give a guy some warning, will ya, Cody?" he complained, standing as he glanced at his watch. "What's up with class? Y'all shoulda been here 20 minutes ago."

"Held up. All the instructors are mooning over some hotshot chick back from a tour in the Gulf." Cody sifted through the dismal contents of the snack-bar, eying and rejecting several battered items before settling on a package of Twinkies.

"You know who?" Cam questioned. "And those things'll kill you, by the way. There is nothin' resembling food in Twinkies."

"Carter. Jessup called her Bobbie or Jamie or one of those boy-girl names from down in your neck of the woods," Cody smirked, and licked some creamy filling from the corner of his mouth.

"Sam? Man, I know her! She's shit hot. Used to hang out with her brother when I was a kid. We were at school together."

Several other student pilots made their way into the room, catching the tail end of the conversation.

"She was at the Academy? Wonder if Daddy gave her that for Christmas, too," sarcasm laced heavily over the short, dark haired man's words as he snagged Cody's second Twinkie. "Must be nice to be a General's daughter. Hey, Mitchell, you should see if she can put in a good word for you, where you two go way back and all."

Cody tried to flash the idiot a warning glance. It went unheeded. Cam's eyes narrowed as he closed the distance between himself and the still-talking man.

"Everything she has, she's earned. And Sam's like a sister to me, so treat her with the respect you would show my sister." Cam's voice was low, but perfectly audible. There was a long silence as Cam stared down, blue eyes meeting brown, brooking no dissent. Finally, the shorter man gave a nervous laugh. "Sure, Cam. No harm, no foul."

He studied late, until he was finally convinced he knew the checklists backwards and forwards for his check ride the following afternoon. He closed his eyes, leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms out over his head. His watch read 2230. Cam stared at the phone for a moment, picked it up and dialed.

"Laughlin Manor, can I help you, sir or ma'am?" the disembodied voice, on the other end of the line queried brightly.

"Lieutenant Samantha Carter, please."

"One moment, sir, while I connect you." Cam piled his tech order binders into his flight bag while he listened to the desk clerk type Sam's name into the computer. "I'm sorry, sir. Lieutenant Carter checked out this afternoon. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

***************

"And then, he just walked right back in there and asked for a refund. Said they lacked 'truth in advertising!'" Jonas snorted with laughter at his own joke as each member of the large party was slowly fed through the revolving door of the Old Ebbitt Grill for their standing Friday night gathering at the Old Bar.

"Hey, barkeep! We'll have seven foamy drafts of your finest ale!" Jonas brayed, as he bellied up the long brass bar.

She put her arm up behind him, "Make that six," Sam caught the bartender's eye. "And a diet coke," she added.

"Aw c'mon, Samantha. Live a little."

"I told you, I am just taking a break and having an app for dinner and then I'm heading back. I really feel like I'm close to something," she answered, chin back, waiting for the next step in an all-too familiar dance.

"Of all the gin joints in all the world..." Cameron stepped up to Sam and embraced her in a warm hug, ignoring the immediate posturing of her apparent date.

"Cam! Jonas, this is my friend, Cameron Mitchell. Cam, my fiancé, Jonas." Sam beamed happily at both men, annoyance forgotten.

"Fiancé,” Cam looked at Sam, then Jonas. “Wow, congratulations!”

"I've known Cam since we were kids. And we were at the Academy together," Sam explained. “It’s been, what? Four? Five years, now?”

Jonas eyed Cameron’s outstretched hand for a long moment before shaking it. “Any friend of Sam’s…” he said unconvincingly.

“You’re a very lucky man,” Cam stated, trying to defuse the moment.

"Luck has nothing to do with it. Samantha knows a good thing when she sees it," Jonas put forth, arrogantly assured that he was the good thing under discussion.

Sam winced inwardly and avoided Cameron's inscrutable blue-eyed stare. "Yes," he said carefully. "She's always known what's good for her."

Her faced burned as she saw Jonas, her and Jonas, through Cam’s eyes.

Whatever something she'd been close to was long gone when she got back to her Pentagon office. Frustrated, she left and made her way home. In the silent darkness of her condo, Samantha Carter played and replayed the last nine months of her life, picking apart the details of her oh-so-glorious compromise. Wondering what lapse of judgment allowed her to think happily-ever-after and white picket fences were possible with that particular man.

She set the ring on the kitchen counter and promised herself she would never settle, never be the foil for a man's ego.

***************

It was nice to be home. Nice to not be court-martialed for disobeying orders and saving the world. Nice to know that Apophis was no longer a problem for Earth or any other planet. Nice to be out in the sunshine of her driveway, on a warm summer morning in Colorado. Ahhh, the zen of motorcycle maintenance. There was nothing like it.

"Well, this is about where I thought I'd find you," a man's voice stated with amusement.

Sam looked up, grease smeared darkly across her left cheekbone, to see Cameron Mitchell.

"You're lucky you found me at all," she said wryly. " You really need to call ahead if you actually want to see me."

"What? And give you the opportunity to get cleaned up so I miss the real Samantha Carter? Not a chance," he gave her a hand up. "I just stopped by the Springs for a few days anyway. Unexpected. And exactly where does the Deep Space Telemetry program send you, anyway?" This was an on-going jest, Cam knowing she was surely doing something that he wouldn't ask and she couldn't tell, but he still enjoyed teasing her about it whenever they talked.

Sam made a face as she wiped her hands on a towel. "Well, let's just grab some lunch and you can tell me all about her."

"What makes you think there's a 'her??'" he asked, trying unsuccessfully to look offended.

"Cameron, there is always a 'her'" she laughed.

***************

"Here are the files for the F-302 program, Major," Hammond said as he handed her a sizable stack of personnel records. "Each commander has put forth their best people out of an eligible pool given your requirements for the 302 program. The personal information is redacted so you can judge them all equally. I’m sure more than a few of the names will be familiar. I need you to rack and stack them and return them to me by the end of the week."

"Yes, sir," Sam replied enthusiastically. They were coming down to the final steps in creating a fully operational F-302 program. In a matter of months, some of the people in this stack were going to be training on the most advanced aircraft the Air Force had to offer. She grabbed a snack from the commissary to hold her over. They had plans for dinner out, to celebrate Daniel's return to the land of the living. But for now, she got to play with her baby.

Eight hours later, Sam brought her rank ordered list to General Hammond's office. Walter stopped her on the way in. "General Hammond thought you might want to see this when you were done," he smirked, handing her the list of names associated with the different files. She did a quick check against her list to see the name of the pilot she had placed at the top, the prospective Squadron CC for the future Blue Squadron of F-302 fighters.

Lt Col Bryce Ferguson. She smiled when she saw Cameron Mitchell made the number two slot. Yes, her baby was in good hands.

***************

Cameron Mitchell walked around his partially dismantled apartment. Walked. They told him he would never walk again. Guess the doctors just didn't count on the sheer stubborn nature of the Mitchell men. His mom could have told them something about that.

General O'Neill had told him he could have any assignment he wanted. As the haze of medications had cleared from his head, he knew where he had to be. And he knew he'd earned it. The packers would be here tomorrow to box up all his stuff for Colorado. He stopped in front of his bookshelf and reached out for the small wooden plane on the top shelf, gently fingering the baby tooth marks on the wings, touching lightly on the chipped tail. A little worse for the wear and tear, but still in one piece.

"Now that's what I'm talkin' about," he whispered to himself.

And now, for something completely different: Bending the Light: Five Sam and Cam's that weren't

Penance

2008-05-07T15:53:29Z

Title: Penance
Author: zats_clear
Summary: Jack pays for how he treated Daniel on Euronda
Rating: R
Warning: May is International Masturbation month
Word Count: 818
Disclaimer: no ownership, no money made, nothin'
Archive Rights: none. srsly, I can't imagine why you would want to!
Authors Note:

Written as a result of a happy confluence of events: May is International Masturbation Month. No, really, it is! So, muck_a_luck told me I really needed to do something about this. And then, I realized that today was janedavitt 's birthday! One of the authors responsible for my ~~twist my arm~~ conversion to Jack/Daniel slash. Sooo, Happy Birthday, Jane!
ETA: CK has now written the remix, Daniel's POV! Penance [The Kabinet Remix]

"Daniel, shut up! Is that clear enough?"

The words rang in Jack's head as he fumbled with his keys, trying to lock his car door without dropping the bags of sandwiches and beer. Euronda had been one hell of an ethics lesson. One he was not likely to forget anytime soon. A loaded glare from Daniel would ensure that it stayed at the top of his mind. So here he was. Mending fences. Reestablishing boundaries. Making peace. Whatever.

Never before had a door looked so foreboding. Jack took a deep breath. And knocked. And waited. Holding his breath.

"Damn it, Daniel," he cursed quietly. That bastard could hold a grudge when he set his mind to it. Jack knocked again. A faint noise from the back of the house caught his attention and he slowly breathed out. If he kept holding his breath waiting for Daniel to get the door, he was going to pass out. Especially as it was becoming increasingly obvious that the man in question was not actually in the house, but, in fact, on the deck in the backyard. The beer bottles softly clinked together as Jack maneuvered his way off the porch - when the hell did Daniel get all these wind chimes - and opened the gate to the backyard. Mountain, meet Mohammad.

And said Mountain came into view as Jack rounded the side of the house. He really needed to loan Daniel some pruning shears for these shrubs. Maybe just trim them up for him. Greenery sprawled everywhere, making it a far more hazardous trek than a simple trip from gate to backyard should be. Another thorny branch smacked him in the head. Putting on his game face, Jack ignored his growing irritation with Daniel's yard keeping efforts and looked up at the deck to see Daniel, sprawled on a lawn chair, looking quizzically at a large bottle of sunscreen. Jack paused.

What could possibly be so interesting about that?

Furrowed brow gone, Daniel gave a quick shrug and a tight smile and flipped the cap open, squeezing a generous amount of lotion into his open hand. The bottle dropped to the chair beside him and his free hand pulled at the waist of his jeans, snapping open the button fly and revealing ...

Button fly? Who the hell wears button fly jeans anymore. Sam was right, the guy had not shopped for clothes in over 10 years.

And this is what his brain was going to focus on right now?

Jack shook his head, squeezing his eyes open and shut quickly and looked up again.

Nope, still there. Except now, the lotion hand - hmmm, lefty - was sliding up and down one very hard dick while the other hand crept ever-slowly under his shirt. Some small part of Jack's brain catalogued: Daniel/sexual preferences/nipple stimulation.

Sweet jesus, he had to get out of there. If Daniel figured out - yeah, eyes closed, mouth slightly open, hand flying up and down, he wasn't figuring anything out for at least a few minutes. He looked towards the gate. Neighbors. Front yard. Dogs. Kids. None of them had been there a few minutes ago. Nope. He was safer here, among the shrubbery. Jack slid a bit deeper into the verdure and closed his eyes.

Which only meant that he suddenly developed incredible super hearing powers. Slap slap slap slap. He could hear Daniel's breathing, for cryin' out loud. He stifled a moan of frustration and prayed Daniel would finish up soon. Surely, this was penance enough for not seriously considering Daniel's concerns about the morality of their mission while on Euronda.

Apparently not. Jack realized he was having a reaction of his own. Autonomic. Been awhile. Gimme a break. He rolled his eyes heavenward and caught a glimpse of Daniel on the downward roll, wrapping things up, so to speak. Nice catch, buddy. Really, way to use the free hand to minimize collateral damage. Bravo. The noise on the street behind him diminished as Mom, Dad, 2.5 kids and their dog all got into the minivan and rolled away. Jack slowly backed up to the gate, slipped the latch, and hobbled out to the front porch.

He set the bags, now full of semi-warm beer and soggy italian sandwiches, on the grass, lowered himself to the step and fished out a drink. One from the middle, where it might still be colder. His hand slipped up the sweaty bottle as he gave the cap a practiced twist of the wrist and breathed a shaky sigh, the beer hissing in sympathy. It foamed, the white suds spilling down over his hand and dripping onto his knee, the yeasty scent rising to his nostrils. Jack hung his head. Life just got better and better. Yup. Yahsureyoubetcha.

Sam in the I

2008-03-29T12:32:12Z

Title: Sam in the I
Author: zats_clear
Summary: Written for abyssinia4077 's birthday as part of Defining Sam from A to Z Go read all!
Rating: G
Disclaimer: No money made, no rights, nothin'
Archive Rights: None (like you really want to! sheesh)

Jonas Hanson. Who the hell thought he would be useful to the Stargate Program? After all the time I've put into this program, after everything that SOB put me through, and now I have to work with him?? Thank God, he can't be on my team. At least Colonel O'Neill put him straight on why I was on SG-1. Thank you, Colonel, for that little saving grace. Saving face, more like it. How could Jonas even think...

I am an intelligent, interesting woman. I am a good communicator, no, an excellent conversationalist. An asset to the team. I do not have to dumb down to get a date, dye my hair blonde, or put out after dinner and a movie. Ok, well, maybe I'm stretching it a little on the blonde thing, but you get my point. Darn it, now I'm talking to myself! This is what I get for stopping outside office doors. I should have just walked right in there...

and what? Looked like the jilted bride? I gave him back the ring. I did.

He cannot undermine me here. This is my house.

Damn. Five minutes until the guys get the showers. Better move.

Five Things Daniel Remembers Most Clearly About His Parents

2008-03-28T15:20:21Z

Title: Five Things Daniel Remembers Most Clearly About His Parents
Author: zats_clear
Summary: A five things, originally posted here
Rating: G
Pairings: Daniel/Sha'uri, Daniel/Jack implied
Word Count: 641
Disclaimer: No rights, no money made, nothin
Archive Rights: None (like you really want to, sheesh!)

1. After Ra's defeat, there were days of celebrations on Abydos where Daniel was plied with much fermented drink and had only the fuzziest recollection of what transpired. As his head cleared, he finally settled into the life he had chosen and began a more formal exploration of his new wife. Daniel had been instantly smitten, on an almost cellular level, and what he had seen of her during the uprising had only confirmed his initial assessment. Yet, there was something familiar about her he could not quite place. As he held her close one night in their communal tent (oh, to have the once scorned "privacy" of a college dorm room), the warm smell of honey and sweet almond oil surrounded him. He was transported back to another sandy tent in Northern Africa, where he himself was the one held close. In whispers and broken phrases, he tried to explain to the beautiful and very annoyed woman in his arms that he was shaking with laughter at himself, not at her. Somehow, the phrase "The son marries his own mother" escaped her understanding.

2. The Drs Jackson had not anticipated a child. In fact, Claire was quite far along before they realized her radiant glow had less to do with the golds and tans of their surroundings reflecting off her lovely face and more to do with Daniel's impending arrival. Once they had the child, though, Melbourne and Claire quickly established that there would be no baby talk, no treating him like a creature of lesser intelligence, no Santa Claus and no Easter Bunny. To that end, young Danny was accorded all the respect of another adult member of the Jackson family and expected to act as such. Claire strongly encouraged him to shake off the bumps and bruises associated childhood and to tough it out. "I'm fine," assured the precocious 3 yr old as he made his way around dig sites, stubbing and stumbling with the glorious grace of a toddler. When Claire wasn't looking, Melbourne kissed Daniel's booboos away.

3. Like all children, Daniel wanted to know "why" for everything. Everything. Every. Thing. The difference was, Daniel received answers. Detailed and thoughtful answers that often provoked further "whys." That this was different only became clear to him after his parents died and he was suddenly, and unexpectedly, "just a child."

4. The Drs Jackson had not anticipated a child. In fact, they often seemed to forget they had one. That is not to say that Daniel wasn't well-cared-for or well-loved. Simply a statement of fact that when Claire and Melbourne were not fascinated by their work to the exclusion of all else, they were frequently fascinated by each other. To the exclusion of all else. This set the bar a bit high with regard to Daniel's future romantic entanglements. College was an unmitigated disaster of missteps and failed amour, and that aspect of high school was something he preferred never to think of again. Consciously, Daniel was oblivious to the effect his child's view of his parents devotion to each other had had on his interpretation of One True Love. How fortunate he had, in his lifetime, gained the hearts of both the princess and the knight in shining armor.

5. Claire had a sweet tooth, but chocolate was difficult to find and equally difficult to keep from melting on a dig, so she indulged often in the local honey and nut desserts and ambrosia-like fruit drinks readily available at dusty stalls in the markets. Eventually, she gave up trying to satisfy her desire for sweets and moved on to the more accessible vice of turkish coffee. She had a particular love for ahwaziyada and shared the highly sweetened, thick drink with her son. No coffee ever tastes quite as perfect as the childhood drinks shared with his mother.

Gloss Over It

2008-03-27T16:25:49Z

Title: Gloss Over It
Author: zats_clear
Pairing: Jack/Daniel
Warnings: smirking, very light PG
Words: 290
Summary: synecdochic commented she was having a bad day: Send sparkly lipgloss. Or, okay, write me porn. So my brain said, lip gloss and porn? Sadly, it is just referred porn and not porn actual...
Disclaimer: no rights,no ownership, no money, nothin'
Archive Rights: None (sheesh, like you want to!)

Jack finally broke away from General Landry's long-winded story of god knows what and made an end run around the ballroom to the hallway, catching Lam headed for him with fire in her eyes. Well, hell. If she hadn't wanted to work with dear old dad, she'd have to keep better track of where he was stationed. Besides, life was too short to be that pissed off at family. He sprinted into the men's room to avoid confrontation. She had brass ones, but he doubted she'd follow him there.

Time to empty the tank anyway. Reynolds was parked at the furthest urinal from the door number 4, so Jack politely snagged the second one number 2 down from him. Funny, that tacky feeling on his fingers. "So, nice ceremony," Jack said, looking over at Reynolds just in time to see him hide a smirk. His brow furrowed. "Yes sir, very nice. Too bad you missed the opening speech." The smirk was back. Reynolds shook off, made a cursory pass under the faucet - have to keep that in mind - and slipped out the door without another word. Still smirking. Jack rubbed his thumb and fingers together briefly.

"Oh, excuse me." Daniel breezed past Reynolds. "Ja-ck. What's up with that?" he asked, glancing back at the door as he took up the number 3 spot and unzipped his very nice very tailored dress pants. Jack grimaced, "That, Daniel, is you needing to get your own damn chapstick so you can stop borrowing that glittery strawberry tasting crap from Vala," and washed the sticky tacky lip gloss from his fingers. "I just hope it doesn't stain cotton."

Daniel smirked.

My Hand Bucket to Hell

2008-03-26T21:24:42Z

Title: Jason Gets No Love. wtf
Author: zats_clear
Pairing: Lisa Bonet/Jason Momoa you have been warned
Warnings: RPF, Mature, Adult, movie reference
Words: 189
Summary: dirty_diana was bemoaning the fact that Yuletide produced no RPF/RPS for Jason. And then she dared me to write it. Drabble
Disclaimer: no rights, no ownership, no money, ~~no self respect, no willpower, no backbone~~ nothin
Archive Rights: None. (like you want to, sheesh)

"C'mon, it'll be alright. Just this once," Lisa tugged gently on Jason's dredlocked hair. "I don't know. It just doesn't seem fair to..." Lisa cut him off with a sharp pull, dragging him down to the floor. "I am not the kind of girl to kiss and tell!" and straddled his hips, squeezing her thighs together to emphasize her point. Or, perhaps, his. The man gave up all pretense at holding out and wrapped his hands in her hair, pulling him down to her while sliding his hands up into her already open blouse. "Why don't you play Ronan the Barbarian for me," she growled. "What is it with women wanting..." Lisa cut him short again with a quick bite to the shoulder. "Ok, ok, I get it," he groaned in her ear. "Well, you're going to," came an answering whisper. Jason laughed in short huffs against her neck. "Tell you what," he purred. "You be Epiphany and then later, I'll Ronan all over your ass." She looked up at him with sultry dark eyes and giggled, acquiescing to the game. Jason grinned back at her, "Now," he said, "Who's your daddy?"

Perchance

2008-03-17T15:00:18Z

Title: Perchance
Author: zats_clear
Pairing: Daniel/Janet
Words: 573
Summary: comment!fic for sg_rarepairings Janet Fraiser/Daniel Jackson, Persian Rug.
Disclaimer: No rights, no ownership, no money made, nothin!
Archive Rights: None (like you want to, sheesh!)

"mmph"

"s'ok," Daniel mumbled, reversing their positions so she was backed up against the 4 high stack of moving boxes, neatly taped and labeled in the corner. He renewed his assault, slipping his hands up under her tshirt and working desperately at kissing at least one of them senseless, the sticky-tacky sensation of lipstick permeating his mouth.

"ooh," she yelped into his neck, half-leaping towards him to remove the sharp corner of the boxes from her backside. He backed off from her, wild-eyed and flushed. "This," he declared, "is not working," as he quickly re-stacked the boxes to two high, grabbed the tiny woman and perched her on the top. Thank god. No longer doubled over. Better focus. Better...oh, much better as her knees came up and tiny feet hooked at the back of his belt to pull him closer.

Two sharp knocks echoed down the empty hallway. "Hello? Two Guys and A Truck, at your service." The sound of Jack's footsteps bounced off the walls in the living room. "Daniel Jackson, did you get everything from the kitchen?" Teal'c was already moving through the kitchen, opening and closing cabinet doors.

The couple froze in their awkward embrace, Janet's eyes wide as Daniel looked frantically around the room for somewhere for her to hide while he dealt with this new development. Empty closet, no furniture, wide open bathroom door. Not even a shower curtain. His eye caught on the persian rug in the corner, Janet following his gaze and shaking her head wildly. "No! You can't be thinking..." "It's the only way, Cleopatra" he smirked as he picked her up and lay her on the brown and cream carpet, noting how the rich and beautiful colors were so much like the woman. "I thought Cleopatra was delivered to Caesar, not packaged..." her voice was muffled in the soft nap.

"Looks like this is all you've got left, Daniel," Jack declared, picking up the box Janet had sat on only moments before. "You get that, big guy," he motioned to the rug with his foot. Daniel watched in horror as Teal'c easily hefted it to his shoulder and started for the door. An insistent beeping came from the rug and Daniel lunged towards Teal'c, reaching for the sound...

...and crashed his knuckles into his bedside table, effectively clearing the surface to the floor. He looked blearily around the room, swung his legs over the side of the bed and reached down to silence his alarm clock. Daniel scrubbed his hand across his face, trying to clear the dream from his mind, and fished his glasses up from the jumble on the floor. 3:43pm. Napping in the afternoon was never a good idea, no matter how screwed up his sense of day and night became. His dreams were so much more...vivid. And he never felt well-rested anyway.

Janet. The hell of it was, he had never so much as given her the opportunity to turn him down for a date. Or, just as possible, accept. It was never quite the right time for something other than a convenient fuck. And she wouldn't have been convenient. Or just a fuck, for that matter.

3:45. He still had enough time to get over the Wells' house and see that baby. He pushed up off the bed, pushed down regret, and grabbed up the soft stuffed teddy bear.

Daniel/Adria/Merlin

2008-01-21T21:16:27Z

Since this seems to be something that is itching at my brain, I will keep the running list here and link up anything else that comes to mind. Please feel free to link me to more in comments.

Resist
Played
Parlay for Flesh

Other links

Five Things Adria Regrets (and one she doesn't) by odette_river

Mysteries by viola_dreamwalk

The Hanged Man Descended by magnavox_23

Parlay of Flesh, Daniel/Adria

2008-01-20T17:38:56Z

And once more into the gloom! My mild obsession with this story line continues. Thanks for playing.

Title:  Parlay of Flesh
Author: zats_clear
Pairing: Daniel/Adria
Rating: R, Adult, sexual situations
Words: 751
Summary: written for oxoniensis' Porn Battle. re-edited for my journal (original version posted here). Prompt was Daniel/Adria, control.
Disclaimer: No rights, no ownership, no money made, nothin'
Archive rights: Absolutely none. (like you really want to, sheesh)

companion piece to Played

Parlay: noun A series of wagers in which the winnings from one wager are used as a stake for the subsequent wagers.

The first time she had seen him with her mother, she had wanted to kill him. Adria was astonished to see Vala, not a woman known for her selflessness, throw herself between Daniel and Tomin, taking the shot to her abdomen that was meant for him.

The second time she saw him, she was more prepared. She found her mother had allied herself with a formidable opponent. One who could further her destiny to lead the spread of Origin through out the galaxies. A man who could be her equal.

"You have a strong mind."

"We have plans for you."

Patiently, she wooed him to her cause, using weapons Daniel Jackson himself could respect: pursuasive words and reason. She presented her plan, in all its logical glory, for the conversion of this galaxy. She positioned him as her partner in her manifest destiny. And she watched as he was inescapably pulled into her fold, enraptured by her. He could no longer hide the attraction he felt for her.

They walked through the hallways and into her private chamber. Adria glanced briefly around the room, noting the lit braziers and the inviting arrangement of the floor pillows. With a tiny nod, she dismissed her attendents from the room. The time had come to use her last weapon to bind Daniel to her, now and forever.   She had, in fact, saved herself for this, her final parlay for Daniel's soul.

She turned and looked up at him through her lashes, coy in her manner. Her tongue touched lightly across her lips and she murmured, "I knew you were someone special when I met you. I have waited for the right time, Daniel."

A lazy smile spread across his face and he moved close to her, slipping around behind her at the last moment when she had been sure he was going to kiss her. "You didn't need to wait. I've been ready for you for a long time." She felt his lips on her skin, where her shoulder met her neck, softly kissing his way to her ear. An intense warmth spread over her body as she felt his hand cup her breast and play at her nipple through the silk fabric of her dress.

She grasped his other hand and brought it to her mouth, running her teeth over his fingers, nipping gently at the tips as she had seen the courtesans do to the soldiers. Adria had taken lessons from the best of them, observing their skills to use in this final battle of wills.

"Promises, promises," Daniel whispered in her ear. She flushed as he took a firmer hold of her, pushing her back and down, to her knees. To the floor. Across the pillows. Adria was rapidly losing herself in the sensation of his touch. In a moment of clarity, she understood what she had observed between the then men of her army and the whores. But, she realized, she had her own part in this. Fumbling briefly at his waist, she unfastened his pants and grasped his hardened cock. He stilled, only for a moment, before rocking into her fingers and against her body. She was so close. His skin tasted so good as she marked him hers with her teeth.

Suddenly, her hands were pushed aside, his legs roughly parting her thighs as he pushed into her. Her mind buzzed with the strange fullness inside her. No gentleness now. This, too, she had seen. He pulled back and began again with his mouth. Teeth against her nipples. Tongue soft between her legs. The noise in her head was so very loud, blood pounding in her ears and in the pulse points under his tongue. She froze, unimaginable waves of pleasure coursing through her body. And just as suddenly, the fullness and thrusting into her began again. She rode it out, coming down slowly as he, apparently, peaked.

Daniel lay against her neck, hot breaths at her neck, as he tenderly stroked her and pulled her in close to him. Pressed to his chest, mingled sweat cooling on her skin, Adria felt the love and adoration in his touch. This was victory. She smiled quietly, nuzzling him. No one said the victorious could not also be generous. Adria tilted her head up to look Daniel in the eyes, to confirm the love she felt in his arms, and noted the tears.

Yes, she could be generous. She traced the tracks of his tears with the tip of her tongue.

Played, Daniel/Adria/Merlin

2008-01-20T04:30:22Z

I have a thing for this storyline. Shroud was far too short with too many possibilities left open. If prompts keep appearing in these comment!fic-athons, perhaps I will eventually have a real story out of it!

Title: Played
Author: zats_clear
Pairing: Daniel/Adria/Merlin
Rating: Hard R, Adult
Warnings: sexual situations, non-con/rape, dark
Words: 573
Summary: written for oxoniensis' Porn Battle (originally posted here). Prompt was Daniel/Adria/Merlin, vie.
Disclaimer: No rights, no ownership, no money made, nothin'
Archive rights: Absolutely none. (like you really want to, sheesh)

Vie:
1. To strive for victory or superiority; contend
2. Archaic To offer in competition; match.
3. Obsolete To wager or bet.

Daniel was bored. He had long since tired of watching two intergalactic grifters working each other in this long con.  The stakes were enormous and yet here they were, on an Ori ship traveling across the galaxy, each taking the other for a mark. Buried deep within his own mind, Daniel could only look thru his eyes, the windows to his soul, as Merlin ran this skin game. Was Adria buying it? Did she believe it was Daniel she spoke to, Daniel who's hand she lingered over, who's lips she brushed gently with her own as he slept?

Gradually, Daniel became aware of a shift in the tone of their conversation. The words were murmured and rich with desire. Adria's scent, redolent of warm honey and cinnamon, filled his senses and he could almost taste what was to come next. His heart froze as he watched them vie for control of the game, detached as he was by both necessity and choice.

Merlin moved his lips up Adria's neck from shoulder to ear with a softness Daniel had not thought the man had in him.   His hand molded around her breast, lightly pinching her nipple as he pressed against her. She answered in kind, hotly leaning into Daniel as she grasped his other hand and brought it to her mouth, raking her teeth across each of his fingers in turn and nipping at the pad as she moved to the next.

"Promises, promises," Daniel heard Merlin whisper huskily in his own voice. He snapped out of his reverie, angry the stakes had been raised without his assent. He felt Merlin push him down, back towards the center of himself, even as he pushed Adria against the pillows on the floor. In the chaotic tangle of clothing and limbs, Daniel and Merlin vied for control over the situation unfolding herself before them, all golden skin and shining dark hair, just like her mother oh god.

No No No No No, Daniel screamed silently.

Push.

Her hands had reached their goal and she was swiftly working him to a mindless roar, her teeth worrying at his neck. She was unaware of the battle raging above her, only feeding the fire of both with her low moans and restless movements. Merlin reached down, brushing her away, and grasped Daniel's cock.

No No No No No

Push

He felt a slight resistance as he slid into her and Merlin looked down, noting the small amount of blood with no small satisfaction. Daniel felt only horror. He railed against Merlin, begging him to stop but his protests were met only with the sounds of flesh against flesh, and the musky smell of sex. He was pulled into it; an unwilling participant in this three way gambit. His mouth hungrily tasted Adria where Merlin led him. His fingers played her to a high-pitched whimper, as her arched body tightened around him. And in his release, he pulled himself away from Merlin.

He panted shallow breaths hot against Adria's neck while he contemplated what to do with his new-found control. Daniel felt Adria's slow triumphant smile against his chest and read the tell. Her mother couldn't resist gloating when she'd won as well. All the fight went out of him.

Damn you both to hell.

Slow tears coursed down his face through the cracks in Merlin's facade, the tip of Adria's tongue tracing their path.

I could have loved you.

Say the Magic Word

2008-01-10T19:45:11Z

Title: Say the Magic Word

Author: zats_clear
Rating: G
Summary: Cam's got a mystery date. Written for a telesilla's porn battle in IJ prompt: Stargate: SG-1, Cameron/anyone (or solo), handcuffs. Found here
Warnings: none, except maybe some cringing on behalf of one of the characters
Words:
Disclaimer: No rights, no ownership, no money made, nothin'
Archive rights: Absolutely none. (like you really want to, sheesh)

Cam slipped his keys in his coat pocket as he walked through the door, smiling at the metal-on-metal sound as they tangled with the other items in his pocket. A few colorful silk scarves, a short length of rope and handcuffs. Handcuffs, for the love of god. It was going to be an interesting night. The electric thrill of it all ran through his limbs and ended up at the base of his dick. Oh yes, a very interesting night.

Not three hours before, he had walked into his office at the SGC to find an unobtrusive brown paper bag on his desk, a note scrawled over it. "Let's try a little hocus-pocus. Your place. 1900." Couldn't be any clearer than that. Of course, there was the little question of who was going to be here in...Cam checked his watch..."Good God, 15 minutes." He had to hurry.

Mama always taught him to be polite, so Cam showered up, running the electric razor over his 5 o'clock, 7 o'clock, shadow - beard burn just wouldn't do - and pondered his soon-to-arrive guest.  The note was virtually indecipherable, obviously having been written on the outside of the bag after the contents were loaded. Trying to figure out who had written it was just as impossible, but he had a pretty good idea. Only two people outside the janatorial staff had keys to his office, and, well, Tony had never spared more than a quick glance for him, so he was pretty sure whoever was coming was not going to smell like bulk-purchased disinfectant. Thank god. That left Sam, who as his 2IC, co-commander, had keys to pretty much everything he owned, and Daniel, who had borrowed Cam's spare set the week before to drop off things for Vala's upcoming surprise birthday party. As sneaky as Vala was, she was unlikely to think of Cam's apartment as a place to find clues for what they planned to do by way of celebrating. Cam had noted the boxes and bags in his living room, but hadn't checked out the contents beyond the stuffed white rabbit dangling over the edge of a box. He added, "Dig around bags and choose which gift will be from me," to his mental To Do list.

Dry, he walked back into his bedroom, towel slung low across his waist. The items, let's face it, the toys, lay in the middle of his comforter as Cam glanced over at the clock - 6:57pm. He froze for a moment, trying to translate the intentions of the sender. "Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound," he said under his breath as he tossed his towel back towards the bathroom, tied one the silk scarves over his eyes and ratched a handcuff around his wrist. The rope was still the unknown quantity, so he draped it across his stomach. He took a deep breath, looped the other cuff over the railing of his head board and tightened the other side over his left wrist as the front door to his apartment opened.

"Mitchell? Got your magic wand out?"

Cam's heart skipped a beat. Daniel.

"Back here."

"Hey, Cam! I hope you didn't try out those magic handcuffs yet because they, uh..."

"Sam grabbed the set from her bedside table rather than the ones we picked up for Vala's birthday party," Daniel said, teasing Sam as he walked down the hall towards Cam's bedroom.

"Oh c'mon, they looked the same!"

"I'm not disputing that, Sam. It's more the fact that you have them."

"I believe, SamanthaCarter, you have been exposed," rumbled Teal'c's deep voice.

Cam felt the whoosh of air across his still-damp body as the door to his bedroom opened.

Daniel/Adria, resist

2007-12-24T01:17:34Z

Author: zats_clear

Pairing: Daniel/Merlin/Adria
Rating: G I could only manage a mind fuck! The rest might show up later
Summary: Written for Jenn's Pornucopia 2007 and originally found here, prompt was Daniel/Adria, resist
Words:
Disclaimer: Not mine. No money made.

Daniel/Adria resist

He felt her, gentle at first. And then, more insistant. Touching lightly in the corners of his mind. Lulling him into acquiescence. Acceptance. Of her. She wanted his knowledge. His trust. And, to his surprise, his heart. Of that, she was clear. Each day, she flowed over the edges of his thoughts. Like an ocean wave over a piece of glass, dulling the sharp edge of his mind. In the dark, she covered him like sheets of silk, clouding his beliefs with her own. Confusing him. He was losing where she began, where he ended. He was losing this battle.

Silently, he thanked Merlin for building a wall around his soul. Adria could not see Daniel. The Orici, unwitting victim of his glamour, saw only the Mage. And she was losing herself to him. She was losing this battle.

As Merlin released Daniel, he prayed for strength.

4 Languages Daniel Does Not Speak and One He Learned

2007-12-24T01:16:29Z

Author: zats_clear

Summary: A 5 things originally posted here
Warning: None
Rating: G
Pairings: Daniel/Sha're. Anything else is up to reader interpretation
Word Count:
Disclaimer: Not mine. No money made.

Daniel Jackson knew 23 languages. Perhaps he stretched the truth a little, some of those languages having not been spoken aloud in centuries, but he thought he could reasonably lay claim to 23 if he included Goa’uld and rudimentary Unas. And, of course, the year on Abydos hearing and speaking one of those unspoken languages gave him a smug certainty that he really was at the top of his game. But there were languages that Daniel could not understand.

ASL – Although he greatly admired the importance of this way of communicating among the deaf, it had no place in his studies or his pursuits. It would never have helped him get his point across on the Planet of Funky Flowering Plants, Pissiness and Migraines nor would it have been useful while negotiating between Chaka and the enslaved Unas. So he let that one lie.

Klingon – Many of his peers in the Linguistics Department found learning Klingon to be both an intriguing exercise in language studies and an outlet for their Trekkie tendencies. Daniel disagreed. While his slight stature, floppy hair and long-lashed blue eyes magnified by wire-rimmed glasses made getting laid almost ridiculously easy, those same qualities women found so appealing (in a “take him home and give him what he needs" kind of way) also left him vulnerable to the testosterone-fueled, homophobic wildings of the insecure male population. Really, it just wasn’t worth the effort.

The Victorian Language of Flowers – Secretly, Daniel always felt this to be a contrived method of torturing men with their inability to read women, like the elaborate dances of Valentine’s Day, in which he stumbled spectacularly while dating Sarah. By the time he finally met a woman for whom learning this language would have been worthwhile…well, desert flowers, like his time with Sha’re, were too fleeting and precious to waste on definition and interpretation.

Doublespeak - Language deliberately constructed to disguise or distort its actual meaning, often resulting in a communication bypass. (Wikipedia) When he first joined the Stargate Program, doublespeak was not Daniel’s forte. He repeatedly demonstrated his inability to lie convincingly, in situations where a little white one would surely be applauded. But years of exposure to governmental euphemisms, military jargon and Jack O’Neill allowed him to speak the truth in a manner guaranteed to confuse and infuriate friend and foe alike.

Body Language – Daniel most certainly did not speak body language effectively. If he did, he would realize the baffling mish-mash of signals he transmitted. The fumbling of pens, hands in pockets, head down, looking up through his lashes while rapidly blinking batting his eyes all belied the stubborn, arrogant, son-of-a-bitch within. If he actually understood body language, Daniel might have wondered at Jack’s need to touch, well, everyone. More to the point, he might have understood the significance when Jack stopped.

Christmas, Present, G

2007-12-23T18:43:03Z

Title: Christmas Present

Author: zats_clear
Rating: G
Summary: Sam's first Christmas on Atlantis
Words: 807
Disclaimer: No rights, no ownership, no money made, nothin'
Archive rights: Absolutely none.

Originally posted here, in holdouttrout's Holiday "not a fic-a-thon." Normally, I do not like schmoop. Or holiday fics. But I seem to have committed both. The prompt was "Sam's first Christmas on Atlantis" and I tossed in "snow in Atlantis" as a secondary prompt.

Christmas. In Atlantis. It's not that Samantha Carter had been home for Christmas in years. Whatever that meant. Not since she joined the Air Force and headed off into the Wild Blue Yonder. No, Samantha Carter, Wanderer of Galaxies, had most assuredly avoided "home" in the holidays of the last two decades. Even as a cadet, she preferred to make her place with her host family in Colorado Springs over visiting a house (not a home) that was cold and empty after the death of her mother. After she and her father had made their peace, there still remained little in the way of family celebrations. Selmak was nice, but ...omnipresent. She enjoyed Mark and his family, especially her nieces. But. Fish and houseguests...

So how was it that she felt so at odds with her surroundings now? The multi-national force she commanded in the Pegasus Galaxy had creatively decked the halls with enough shiny and bright to make her feel as though she'd become lost in a flock of magpies. The commissary whipped up cultural holiday delicacies with every meal. And, dear God, if Radek did not stop playing Elvis' Christmas Album, if she heard Blue Christmas one more time, she was going to lose her mind. But the holiday spirit was just not in her. "Yes, Samantha Carter, you are Ebenezer Scrooge," she thought. And so, she dredged up the ghosts of Christmas Past.

She and Mark, trying so desperately to stay awake to catch Santa Claus in the act. Her parents, watching indulgently as they ripped open their gifts in the morning. Her beloved host family's twin daughters, racing into "her" room on Christmas morning to wake her up, covering her with sticky stocking candy hands. That Christmas in the Middle East, where the First Shirt played Santa Claus and gave everyone gifts out of an overstuffed A-3 bag. An event made all the more surreal by the fact that the Shirt was a she. And Asian. And about the same size as the A-3 bag. Watching the lighting of the National Christmas Tree in Washington, knowing she would be headed back to her office in the Pentagon to work more on the calculations that would eventually help crack the Stargate. Her first Christmas after joining the SGC. The one where she and the recently-divorced Janet knocked back most of bottle of Limoncello with their Christmas cookies and spent Christmas day regretting that lemons were ever cultivated. The SGC Holiday parties. The third year, around the campfire on a distant planet, discussing the "meaning of Christmas" with Teal'c and Daniel as Colonel O'Neill sat quietly to one side and smirked as the conversation led to an detailed analysis of "evolution vs creationism." The first year Daniel wasn't there. The Christmas following Janet's... Samantha swallowed hard.

She'd been off-world with SG-1 for more than half the Christmas' of the last 10 years. What was so different now? Sam shook her head to clear her mind and her lips tightened in a firm line that Daniel would have recognized. And teased her about. "Don't be so hard on yourself. You don't need to be perfect. Just be yourself." And suddenly, it all became crystal clear. The problem. She looked down at the photographs on her desk and saw her "family." Here, where they weren't, she was the outsider. "Weir would have never doubted me," Ronan had said, coldly. "You're no Elizabeth Weir," being the obvious subtext.

"Colonel Carter, I think you should see this." Ronan stood in her office doorway, as though summoned by her thoughts. She blinked her beginning-to-tear eyes rapidly. No weakness here. Move along. "What have we got?" she asked, following him down the hall and out onto the Atlantean balcony overlooking the city. She looked in wonder at the light coating of snow on the railings. Snow. Coming from the sky in enormous, soft, white flakes. She held her hands out to catch them as they drifted down, a smile spreading slowly over her face. In the perfect muffled silence of snowfall, Ronan's answering smile spoke volumes.

Doors opened and suddenly, there were Terran expats flocking out onto the overlook. "Bring the tree out here!" "Do we have an extension so we can light it?" "Oh, that will be sooo pretty!" "It's snowing!" "No kidding, Rodney. Thought of taking up meteorology?" A cup of hot cocoa was pressed into her outstretched hand as Jennifer Keller fluttered past her and twirled in the snow, head back, face to the sky. Sam looked around slowly and then back to Ronan, who was still watching her with a quiet intensity that was somehow familiar to her. Flashing him a grin, she realized she was now in the midst of the noisy crowd. Perhaps she was home for the holidays after all.