Sam Carter /Jack O'Neill Ship Appreciation Thread 2.0

[fems]

That's great. Thanks for letting me know!

Basically everything written for the shippy holiday or for the actual holiday itself (which is usually in the week leading up to the shippy day) will be labeled new, in my experience. Only those that have been posted earlier (like previous years) or are unrelated to the shippy holiday but have been written/updated recently will not have a 'new' tag, I believe.

[Everlovin]

UhSir! I finally had a whole 2 minutes to watch that vid about Norman. LOVED it! Keep up the good work.

[selene0789]

I blame this one entirely on SyFy, which chose today of all days to play Ark of Truth. This ficlet is my offering to the pillar of Gutter. May the lords of ship find it worthy.

Enjoy!

Spoiler:

Sam slammed the car door closed and locked it, making her way up the drive. She smiled. The day around her was spring in full bloom: the sun was bright, the world green and full of life. Her carefully tended garden was full of color around the edge of the front porch. For the first time in her life, the house was her home, no longer simply a way station between her hours spent at work. A familiar sense of wonder swelled lightly within her, amazed that her life could be so transformed by happiness.


As she entered the house, however, the source of that overwhelming happiness stood waiting, features turned down in an unhappy scowl. Sam blinked, then took the time to close and lock the door behind her. Setting her purse on the small table against the wall, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

“What’s the matter?” she hedged. With the chaos of the past few weeks, and her recent mission to the Pegasus Galaxy in search of the Ark, she hadn’t really had a chance to have a real conversation with Jack. They’d spoken only long enough for her to reassure him that she was uninjured, and to confirm that the reports of the Priors’ conversion were true. They’d left the rest until they both could take some downtime and spend it together… which apparently started now.

“Where’ve you been?”

Sam blinked. Jack wasn’t usually one to monitor her movements, or particularly care what she did when she wasn’t with him. However, Sam sensed there was more to the question than what he asked, so she answered without prejudice. “I was visiting Cam in the infirmary. Thought I’d check in before I went on leave.”

Shaking her hand through her hair, Sam turned to face him head on, even going so far as to close the distance by taking a few steps in his direction. Jack responded by looking away uncomfortably, focusing on the closest wall than on her. Sam stopped where she was. There was definitely something up.

“I see you’ve been busy in the kitchen,” he mentioned lightly, studying the white trim that laterally bisected the wall. His finger trailed the edge of it, feigning nonchalance. Sam’s eyebrows crept upward, her lips settling into a pleased line.

She smoothed her features before he glanced up at her, opting to deliver an expectant, if somewhat blank expression. “I made some macaroons for Cam.” She paused, watching him carefully. “A get-well gift.”

“Ah,” Jack uttered. He shifted in place, waiting for her continue. Sam let the bait dangle untouched. Just before he passed from uncomfortable to squirming, he filled the silence himself. “So you made cookies?”

“I made macaroons,” she clarified, leaving the stand-off to start walking towards the kitchen. The mess she’d left behind waited for her, and as Jack trailed along behind, she began the task of setting the mixing bowls, measuring cups, and baking sheets to sit under the faucet while she set out the drain rack.

Jack handed her the last pan as he leaned back against the counter. Sam knew he’d help her dry, as was their usual routine, but for now he occupied himself by playing with the corner of the dishtowel. “You never made me cookies when I was in the infirmary,” he pointed out.

Sam rolled her eyes. “I was just returning a favor,” she appeased. “Hand me the Dawn, will you?” He obliged readily. Squeezing a line of soap across her sponge, Sam tried not to smile. “And the last time you hurt yourself, I did more than make macaroons for you.”

“Yeah…” Neither of them would be forgetting last autumn, when Jack had run into a squirrel while clearing out the gutters. The scars had long-faded, but Jack still claimed to suffer nightmares. Sam had gotten creative in ways to distract him. The moment of reflection ended abruptly when Jack crossed his arms with a pout. “But did you have to give him all the cookies?”

“I will never, ever keep macaroons in this house,” Sam declared. She’d gotten nauseated just by making them. There was just something about them that turned her off, and when they started baking, the smell alone almost… Ugh. “Now stop whining and start drying.”

Jack hesitated, but in the end accepted the impasse by lifting the freshly scrubbed ¼-cup and wiping at it with the towel. His movements lacked urgency, and by the time he moved to put it away in the cupboard next to the fridge, a small pile had accumulated on the rack behind him.

Sam heard the cupboard open, and diligently kept scraping at the toasted crumbs clinging to the baking sheet in her hands, smiling openly now that her back was turned. Almost immediately, she heard him pause, falling silent for the briefest of moment before, “Score!”

The measuring cup was abandoned to the counter with a clink, and the familiar rattle of cookies in Tupperware sounded victoriously. Sam rinsed her hands in anticipation, and had just patted them dry when Jack’s hands spun her around by the hips, kissing her soundly. Sam returned it with a grin, giggling against his lips before he pulled away with a beaming smile.

“You’re the best,” he declared, waving the bucket of chocolate chip cookies triumphantly.
Sam shrugged. “Standard operating procedure,” she stated, as if there had been no ulterior motive behind them at all. “Had to get the smell out somehow…”

She wouldn’t mention the fact that she’d hid them in a cupboard he rarely ventured into, eschewing all the normal places for storing goodies. Using the breadbox or microwave would have ruined the fun—and Jack made it far too easy to pull his chain.

Jack’s fingers pulled at the lid, eager to dive in, but Sam gently removed the container from his grasp. “Dishes first. Then dessert.”

The dishes were finished in record time, and before long Sam was reaching into the fridge to get the milk. Before she could curl her fingers around the carton, however, her eyes caught on something else entirely. Jack eagerly retrieved the cookies, but before he could pry open the bin, Sam straightened, placing her find on the island counter.

“Actually…” she began, canting her head ever so slightly. Jack, eyes zeroed in on the cookies within his reach, sighed the sigh of a martyr, and let his shoulders fall dramatically. Sam waited until he looked up at her, then wiggled the brand new can of whipped cream at him. “I had another dessert in mind.” Her grin turned devilish when her husband’s gazed bounced between her and the cookies, and giggled when the Tupperware smacked against the counter, all but forgotten.

Long arms wrapped around her, one hand cupping her neck to pull her closer. His lips captured hers, first brisk, then softening into something far more seductive. His fingers tangled themselves in her hair, and not for the first time Sam was glad she’d finally let it grow out. Sam’s thumb brushed the edge of his jaw, sending tingled down her arm against the prickle of his grizzled five-o-clock shadow.

When they came up for air, they remained locked in each other’s arms. “Cookies can wait,” Jack grunted, his breath vibrating against her lips. Sam giggled again. “Much better than macaroons.”

FIN

[Sparky She-Demon]

Well done selene! I like it!

[selene0789]

Well done selene! I like it!

Gracias. I was chuckling as I wrote it. Probably the least AU piece I've ever written. I mean, I can totally see Jack pining over cookies, and I can also see Sam playing him like a fiddle.

[dipsofjazz]

i think dipsofjazz has one *looks around* Dipso??? Dipso!!!

You called?

[Sparky She-Demon]

She can get Jack to do anything, can't she?

[hedwig]

I blame this one entirely on SyFy, which chose today of all days to play Ark of Truth. This ficlet is my offering to the pillar of Gutter. May the lords of ship find it worthy.

Enjoy!

Spoiler:

Sam slammed the car door closed and locked it, making her way up the drive. She smiled. The day around her was spring in full bloom: the sun was bright, the world green and full of life. Her carefully tended garden was full of color around the edge of the front porch. For the first time in her life, the house was her home, no longer simply a way station between her hours spent at work. A familiar sense of wonder swelled lightly within her, amazed that her life could be so transformed by happiness.


As she entered the house, however, the source of that overwhelming happiness stood waiting, features turned down in an unhappy scowl. Sam blinked, then took the time to close and lock the door behind her. Setting her purse on the small table against the wall, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

“What’s the matter?” she hedged. With the chaos of the past few weeks, and her recent mission to the Pegasus Galaxy in search of the Ark, she hadn’t really had a chance to have a real conversation with Jack. They’d spoken only long enough for her to reassure him that she was uninjured, and to confirm that the reports of the Priors’ conversion were true. They’d left the rest until they both could take some downtime and spend it together… which apparently started now.

“Where’ve you been?”

Sam blinked. Jack wasn’t usually one to monitor her movements, or particularly care what she did when she wasn’t with him. However, Sam sensed there was more to the question than what he asked, so she answered without prejudice. “I was visiting Cam in the infirmary. Thought I’d check in before I went on leave.”

Shaking her hand through her hair, Sam turned to face him head on, even going so far as to close the distance by taking a few steps in his direction. Jack responded by looking away uncomfortably, focusing on the closest wall than on her. Sam stopped where she was. There was definitely something up.

“I see you’ve been busy in the kitchen,” he mentioned lightly, studying the white trim that laterally bisected the wall. His finger trailed the edge of it, feigning nonchalance. Sam’s eyebrows crept upward, her lips settling into a pleased line.

She smoothed her features before he glanced up at her, opting to deliver an expectant, if somewhat blank expression. “I made some macaroons for Cam.” She paused, watching him carefully. “A get-well gift.”

“Ah,” Jack uttered. He shifted in place, waiting for her continue. Sam let the bait dangle untouched. Just before he passed from uncomfortable to squirming, he filled the silence himself. “So you made cookies?”

“I made macaroons,” she clarified, leaving the stand-off to start walking towards the kitchen. The mess she’d left behind waited for her, and as Jack trailed along behind, she began the task of setting the mixing bowls, measuring cups, and baking sheets to sit under the faucet while she set out the drain rack.

Jack handed her the last pan as he leaned back against the counter. Sam knew he’d help her dry, as was their usual routine, but for now he occupied himself by playing with the corner of the dishtowel. “You never made me cookies when I was in the infirmary,” he pointed out.

Sam rolled her eyes. “I was just returning a favor,” she appeased. “Hand me the Dawn, will you?” He obliged readily. Squeezing a line of soap across her sponge, Sam tried not to smile. “And the last time you hurt yourself, I did more than make macaroons for you.”

“Yeah…” Neither of them would be forgetting last autumn, when Jack had run into a squirrel while clearing out the gutters. The scars had long-faded, but Jack still claimed to suffer nightmares. Sam had gotten creative in ways to distract him. The moment of reflection ended abruptly when Jack crossed his arms with a pout. “But did you have to give him all the cookies?”

“I will never, ever keep macaroons in this house,” Sam declared. She’d gotten nauseated just by making them. There was just something about them that turned her off, and when they started baking, the smell alone almost… Ugh. “Now stop whining and start drying.”

Jack hesitated, but in the end accepted the impasse by lifting the freshly scrubbed ¼-cup and wiping at it with the towel. His movements lacked urgency, and by the time he moved to put it away in the cupboard next to the fridge, a small pile had accumulated on the rack behind him.

Sam heard the cupboard open, and diligently kept scraping at the toasted crumbs clinging to the baking sheet in her hands, smiling openly now that her back was turned. Almost immediately, she heard him pause, falling silent for the briefest of moment before, “Score!”

The measuring cup was abandoned to the counter with a clink, and the familiar rattle of cookies in Tupperware sounded victoriously. Sam rinsed her hands in anticipation, and had just patted them dry when Jack’s hands spun her around by the hips, kissing her soundly. Sam returned it with a grin, giggling against his lips before he pulled away with a beaming smile.

“You’re the best,” he declared, waving the bucket of chocolate chip cookies triumphantly.
Sam shrugged. “Standard operating procedure,” she stated, as if there had been no ulterior motive behind them at all. “Had to get the smell out somehow…”

She wouldn’t mention the fact that she’d hid them in a cupboard he rarely ventured into, eschewing all the normal places for storing goodies. Using the breadbox or microwave would have ruined the fun—and Jack made it far too easy to pull his chain.

Jack’s fingers pulled at the lid, eager to dive in, but Sam gently removed the container from his grasp. “Dishes first. Then dessert.”

The dishes were finished in record time, and before long Sam was reaching into the fridge to get the milk. Before she could curl her fingers around the carton, however, her eyes caught on something else entirely. Jack eagerly retrieved the cookies, but before he could pry open the bin, Sam straightened, placing her find on the island counter.

“Actually…” she began, canting her head ever so slightly. Jack, eyes zeroed in on the cookies within his reach, sighed the sigh of a martyr, and let his shoulders fall dramatically. Sam waited until he looked up at her, then wiggled the brand new can of whipped cream at him. “I had another dessert in mind.” Her grin turned devilish when her husband’s gazed bounced between her and the cookies, and giggled when the Tupperware smacked against the counter, all but forgotten.

Long arms wrapped around her, one hand cupping her neck to pull her closer. His lips captured hers, first brisk, then softening into something far more seductive. His fingers tangled themselves in her hair, and not for the first time Sam was glad she’d finally let it grow out. Sam’s thumb brushed the edge of his jaw, sending tingled down her arm against the prickle of his grizzled five-o-clock shadow.

When they came up for air, they remained locked in each other’s arms. “Cookies can wait,” Jack grunted, his breath vibrating against her lips. Sam giggled again. “Much better than macaroons.”

FIN

This was great. I loved it.

It just so happens that Syfy was playing "Ark of Truth" this morning when I turned the TV on, and then I come over here to find a post-Ark of Truth nicely done story to go along with it.

[XFchemist]

I blame this one entirely on SyFy, which chose today of all days to play Ark of Truth. This ficlet is my offering to the pillar of Gutter. May the lords of ship find it worthy.

Enjoy!

Spoiler:

Sam slammed the car door closed and locked it, making her way up the drive. She smiled. The day around her was spring in full bloom: the sun was bright, the world green and full of life. Her carefully tended garden was full of color around the edge of the front porch. For the first time in her life, the house was her home, no longer simply a way station between her hours spent at work. A familiar sense of wonder swelled lightly within her, amazed that her life could be so transformed by happiness.


As she entered the house, however, the source of that overwhelming happiness stood waiting, features turned down in an unhappy scowl. Sam blinked, then took the time to close and lock the door behind her. Setting her purse on the small table against the wall, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

“What’s the matter?” she hedged. With the chaos of the past few weeks, and her recent mission to the Pegasus Galaxy in search of the Ark, she hadn’t really had a chance to have a real conversation with Jack. They’d spoken only long enough for her to reassure him that she was uninjured, and to confirm that the reports of the Priors’ conversion were true. They’d left the rest until they both could take some downtime and spend it together… which apparently started now.

“Where’ve you been?”

Sam blinked. Jack wasn’t usually one to monitor her movements, or particularly care what she did when she wasn’t with him. However, Sam sensed there was more to the question than what he asked, so she answered without prejudice. “I was visiting Cam in the infirmary. Thought I’d check in before I went on leave.”

Shaking her hand through her hair, Sam turned to face him head on, even going so far as to close the distance by taking a few steps in his direction. Jack responded by looking away uncomfortably, focusing on the closest wall than on her. Sam stopped where she was. There was definitely something up.

“I see you’ve been busy in the kitchen,” he mentioned lightly, studying the white trim that laterally bisected the wall. His finger trailed the edge of it, feigning nonchalance. Sam’s eyebrows crept upward, her lips settling into a pleased line.

She smoothed her features before he glanced up at her, opting to deliver an expectant, if somewhat blank expression. “I made some macaroons for Cam.” She paused, watching him carefully. “A get-well gift.”

“Ah,” Jack uttered. He shifted in place, waiting for her continue. Sam let the bait dangle untouched. Just before he passed from uncomfortable to squirming, he filled the silence himself. “So you made cookies?”

“I made macaroons,” she clarified, leaving the stand-off to start walking towards the kitchen. The mess she’d left behind waited for her, and as Jack trailed along behind, she began the task of setting the mixing bowls, measuring cups, and baking sheets to sit under the faucet while she set out the drain rack.

Jack handed her the last pan as he leaned back against the counter. Sam knew he’d help her dry, as was their usual routine, but for now he occupied himself by playing with the corner of the dishtowel. “You never made me cookies when I was in the infirmary,” he pointed out.

Sam rolled her eyes. “I was just returning a favor,” she appeased. “Hand me the Dawn, will you?” He obliged readily. Squeezing a line of soap across her sponge, Sam tried not to smile. “And the last time you hurt yourself, I did more than make macaroons for you.”

“Yeah…” Neither of them would be forgetting last autumn, when Jack had run into a squirrel while clearing out the gutters. The scars had long-faded, but Jack still claimed to suffer nightmares. Sam had gotten creative in ways to distract him. The moment of reflection ended abruptly when Jack crossed his arms with a pout. “But did you have to give him all the cookies?”

“I will never, ever keep macaroons in this house,” Sam declared. She’d gotten nauseated just by making them. There was just something about them that turned her off, and when they started baking, the smell alone almost… Ugh. “Now stop whining and start drying.”

Jack hesitated, but in the end accepted the impasse by lifting the freshly scrubbed ¼-cup and wiping at it with the towel. His movements lacked urgency, and by the time he moved to put it away in the cupboard next to the fridge, a small pile had accumulated on the rack behind him.

Sam heard the cupboard open, and diligently kept scraping at the toasted crumbs clinging to the baking sheet in her hands, smiling openly now that her back was turned. Almost immediately, she heard him pause, falling silent for the briefest of moment before, “Score!”

The measuring cup was abandoned to the counter with a clink, and the familiar rattle of cookies in Tupperware sounded victoriously. Sam rinsed her hands in anticipation, and had just patted them dry when Jack’s hands spun her around by the hips, kissing her soundly. Sam returned it with a grin, giggling against his lips before he pulled away with a beaming smile.

“You’re the best,” he declared, waving the bucket of chocolate chip cookies triumphantly.
Sam shrugged. “Standard operating procedure,” she stated, as if there had been no ulterior motive behind them at all. “Had to get the smell out somehow…”

She wouldn’t mention the fact that she’d hid them in a cupboard he rarely ventured into, eschewing all the normal places for storing goodies. Using the breadbox or microwave would have ruined the fun—and Jack made it far too easy to pull his chain.

Jack’s fingers pulled at the lid, eager to dive in, but Sam gently removed the container from his grasp. “Dishes first. Then dessert.”

The dishes were finished in record time, and before long Sam was reaching into the fridge to get the milk. Before she could curl her fingers around the carton, however, her eyes caught on something else entirely. Jack eagerly retrieved the cookies, but before he could pry open the bin, Sam straightened, placing her find on the island counter.

“Actually…” she began, canting her head ever so slightly. Jack, eyes zeroed in on the cookies within his reach, sighed the sigh of a martyr, and let his shoulders fall dramatically. Sam waited until he looked up at her, then wiggled the brand new can of whipped cream at him. “I had another dessert in mind.” Her grin turned devilish when her husband’s gazed bounced between her and the cookies, and giggled when the Tupperware smacked against the counter, all but forgotten.

Long arms wrapped around her, one hand cupping her neck to pull her closer. His lips captured hers, first brisk, then softening into something far more seductive. His fingers tangled themselves in her hair, and not for the first time Sam was glad she’d finally let it grow out. Sam’s thumb brushed the edge of his jaw, sending tingled down her arm against the prickle of his grizzled five-o-clock shadow.

When they came up for air, they remained locked in each other’s arms. “Cookies can wait,” Jack grunted, his breath vibrating against her lips. Sam giggled again. “Much better than macaroons.”

FIN

Virtual green!

[trinity3]

Here's my ficlet to the Valenship challenge for the week. It hovers on the line between angst and fluff. This one was actually really difficult for me, so any concrit would be greatly appreciated.

That was very good. I've thought about doing a fic from the Stargate's pov but haven't gotten around to it yet.

Your Atlantis pov reminded me of it. Enjoyed it.

New fic.
Sequel to New Lingerie.
Not sure to rate it T or M (New Lingerie is M but not sure about this)... So i'm posting the link. Advice would be great!
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8993273/1/

That Vala

Hiya all,

I'm not working on Valenship because of this:

Spoiler:

That's our Charlie checking her out.

She is as-yet unnamed, but I'm pushing for Samantha, "Sammie" for short.

Well she has the eyes for it.

All right, peeps. I couldn't help myself. Here's another ficlet. Squarely in the fluff category. I like this one a lot better.

Spoiler:

Balls of crumpled wrapping paper peppered the carpet, forcing Jack to tiptoe a dance around them as he made his way to the living room. The party had been a success, even though the house looked like a tornado had hit. Plates and cups were littered across the place, and their carpet was now graced with a splotch of Hawaiian-Punch-pink. Balloons sagged, exhausted, and Jack felt their pain. His bones ached.

He settled into his recliner with a silent sigh, careful not to wake the bodies asleep on the couch. Sam lay dead to the world, hair disheveled and harried with a smear of chocolate icing painted across one cheek. The twins were zonked out on top of her; Jake sprawled over her chest, one leg thrown across the shoulders of his sister. Abby’s thumb was fist-deep in her mouth, one arm latched around her mother’s thigh.

Even in her sleep, Sam was in mommy mode. One arm hugged Jake around the middle; her free hand cupped Abby’s downy head, gently protecting the girl from a hapless roll off the narrow sofa. She was going to be sore when she woke up later, and the kids were going to be cranky, but Jack made no move to wake any of them. They were a beautiful sight, a sight that could disappear in the space of a moment. In less time than it took to blink, it could vanish. It already had, once. So Jack simply sat back and observed, committing the scene to memory, internalizing every last detail.

It had been a long birthday; later, Sam might even compare it to the traumatic ordeal of childbirth. But it was worth it to have their house full of laughter. He couldn’t wait to do it all again next year.

P.S. Thanks, hedwig and Jack4Sam! Just saw your feedback!

Brava!

Just found a wonderful vid set to a Sarah McLachlan/Bryan Adams song

http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xc8...s#.URbxdxEgGSM

This one cracked me up too! Never heard the song but it's great!

http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xwp...s#.URb0UBEgGSM

Norman!!! LOL.

Thanks for posting.

Great job UhSir

I blame this one entirely on SyFy, which chose today of all days to play Ark of Truth. This ficlet is my offering to the pillar of Gutter. May the lords of ship find it worthy.

Enjoy!

Spoiler:

Sam slammed the car door closed and locked it, making her way up the drive. She smiled. The day around her was spring in full bloom: the sun was bright, the world green and full of life. Her carefully tended garden was full of color around the edge of the front porch. For the first time in her life, the house was her home, no longer simply a way station between her hours spent at work. A familiar sense of wonder swelled lightly within her, amazed that her life could be so transformed by happiness.


As she entered the house, however, the source of that overwhelming happiness stood waiting, features turned down in an unhappy scowl. Sam blinked, then took the time to close and lock the door behind her. Setting her purse on the small table against the wall, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

“What’s the matter?” she hedged. With the chaos of the past few weeks, and her recent mission to the Pegasus Galaxy in search of the Ark, she hadn’t really had a chance to have a real conversation with Jack. They’d spoken only long enough for her to reassure him that she was uninjured, and to confirm that the reports of the Priors’ conversion were true. They’d left the rest until they both could take some downtime and spend it together… which apparently started now.

“Where’ve you been?”

Sam blinked. Jack wasn’t usually one to monitor her movements, or particularly care what she did when she wasn’t with him. However, Sam sensed there was more to the question than what he asked, so she answered without prejudice. “I was visiting Cam in the infirmary. Thought I’d check in before I went on leave.”

Shaking her hand through her hair, Sam turned to face him head on, even going so far as to close the distance by taking a few steps in his direction. Jack responded by looking away uncomfortably, focusing on the closest wall than on her. Sam stopped where she was. There was definitely something up.

“I see you’ve been busy in the kitchen,” he mentioned lightly, studying the white trim that laterally bisected the wall. His finger trailed the edge of it, feigning nonchalance. Sam’s eyebrows crept upward, her lips settling into a pleased line.

She smoothed her features before he glanced up at her, opting to deliver an expectant, if somewhat blank expression. “I made some macaroons for Cam.” She paused, watching him carefully. “A get-well gift.”

“Ah,” Jack uttered. He shifted in place, waiting for her continue. Sam let the bait dangle untouched. Just before he passed from uncomfortable to squirming, he filled the silence himself. “So you made cookies?”

“I made macaroons,” she clarified, leaving the stand-off to start walking towards the kitchen. The mess she’d left behind waited for her, and as Jack trailed along behind, she began the task of setting the mixing bowls, measuring cups, and baking sheets to sit under the faucet while she set out the drain rack.

Jack handed her the last pan as he leaned back against the counter. Sam knew he’d help her dry, as was their usual routine, but for now he occupied himself by playing with the corner of the dishtowel. “You never made me cookies when I was in the infirmary,” he pointed out.

Sam rolled her eyes. “I was just returning a favor,” she appeased. “Hand me the Dawn, will you?” He obliged readily. Squeezing a line of soap across her sponge, Sam tried not to smile. “And the last time you hurt yourself, I did more than make macaroons for you.”

“Yeah…” Neither of them would be forgetting last autumn, when Jack had run into a squirrel while clearing out the gutters. The scars had long-faded, but Jack still claimed to suffer nightmares. Sam had gotten creative in ways to distract him. The moment of reflection ended abruptly when Jack crossed his arms with a pout. “But did you have to give him all the cookies?”

“I will never, ever keep macaroons in this house,” Sam declared. She’d gotten nauseated just by making them. There was just something about them that turned her off, and when they started baking, the smell alone almost… Ugh. “Now stop whining and start drying.”

Jack hesitated, but in the end accepted the impasse by lifting the freshly scrubbed ¼-cup and wiping at it with the towel. His movements lacked urgency, and by the time he moved to put it away in the cupboard next to the fridge, a small pile had accumulated on the rack behind him.

Sam heard the cupboard open, and diligently kept scraping at the toasted crumbs clinging to the baking sheet in her hands, smiling openly now that her back was turned. Almost immediately, she heard him pause, falling silent for the briefest of moment before, “Score!”

The measuring cup was abandoned to the counter with a clink, and the familiar rattle of cookies in Tupperware sounded victoriously. Sam rinsed her hands in anticipation, and had just patted them dry when Jack’s hands spun her around by the hips, kissing her soundly. Sam returned it with a grin, giggling against his lips before he pulled away with a beaming smile.

“You’re the best,” he declared, waving the bucket of chocolate chip cookies triumphantly.
Sam shrugged. “Standard operating procedure,” she stated, as if there had been no ulterior motive behind them at all. “Had to get the smell out somehow…”

She wouldn’t mention the fact that she’d hid them in a cupboard he rarely ventured into, eschewing all the normal places for storing goodies. Using the breadbox or microwave would have ruined the fun—and Jack made it far too easy to pull his chain.

Jack’s fingers pulled at the lid, eager to dive in, but Sam gently removed the container from his grasp. “Dishes first. Then dessert.”

The dishes were finished in record time, and before long Sam was reaching into the fridge to get the milk. Before she could curl her fingers around the carton, however, her eyes caught on something else entirely. Jack eagerly retrieved the cookies, but before he could pry open the bin, Sam straightened, placing her find on the island counter.

“Actually…” she began, canting her head ever so slightly. Jack, eyes zeroed in on the cookies within his reach, sighed the sigh of a martyr, and let his shoulders fall dramatically. Sam waited until he looked up at her, then wiggled the brand new can of whipped cream at him. “I had another dessert in mind.” Her grin turned devilish when her husband’s gazed bounced between her and the cookies, and giggled when the Tupperware smacked against the counter, all but forgotten.

Long arms wrapped around her, one hand cupping her neck to pull her closer. His lips captured hers, first brisk, then softening into something far more seductive. His fingers tangled themselves in her hair, and not for the first time Sam was glad she’d finally let it grow out. Sam’s thumb brushed the edge of his jaw, sending tingled down her arm against the prickle of his grizzled five-o-clock shadow.

When they came up for air, they remained locked in each other’s arms. “Cookies can wait,” Jack grunted, his breath vibrating against her lips. Sam giggled again. “Much better than macaroons.”

FIN

Couldn't green you but I really enjoyed it.

[selene0789]

She can get Jack to do anything, can't she?

I'm of the belief that she can. Sam rules the roost, and Jack is happy to let her. But that's just me.

This was great. I loved it.

It just so happens that Syfy was playing "Ark of Truth" this morning when I turned the TV on, and then I come over here to find a post-Ark of Truth nicely done story to go along with it.

I was surprised they were showing it. I was hoping they would show Continuum after, but nope. Went straight over to Star Trek movies. Bummer, eh?

Virtual green!

Thanks for the green! Virtual or not, green makes my fuzzy little heart go pitter patter.

That was very good. I've thought about doing a fic from the Stargate's pov but haven't gotten around to it yet.

Your Atlantis pov reminded me of it. Enjoyed it.

The Stargate POV idea is a good one. I can see it being a really poignant opener for a very serious piece, where its lording over a quiet gate room, and all of a sudden, the wormhole connects. Out tumbles SG-1-- minus one member. buh buh bum!

[hlndncr]

Thanks selene for representing the fic writers this week. I admit, I fell down on the job.

But our artist have been very busy and have come up with a lot of great choices for your fic writing pleasure. The challenge for them was to make shippy art using only pics of Sam or Jack, but not both. The challenge for you is to turn these works of art into a drabble or a ficlet. So wake up your muse and get those keyboards ready. Lets have some great fic to get us in the mood for the big day!

By Nolamom











By selene



By Ikorni



By Jack4Sam

<click for fullsize>

[trinity3]

i'm of the belief that she can. Sam rules the roost, and jack is happy to let her. But that's just me.



i was surprised they were showing it. I was hoping they would show continuum after, but nope. Went straight over to star trek movies. Bummer, eh?



Thanks for the green! Virtual or not, green makes my fuzzy little heart go pitter patter. :d



the stargate pov idea is a good one. I can see it being a really poignant opener for a very serious piece, where its lording over a quiet gate room, and all of a sudden, the wormhole connects. Out tumbles sg-1-- minus one member. buh buh bum!

lol

[Lucycat]

Love the new art!!!

[Amara D'Angeli]

Window of Opportunity just became homework for me. Unfortunately, not for shippy reasons. But I do get to watch it and analyze it over the next few weeks. Talk about good homework!