Sunday Morning

Category: Thoughts, Fluff, S/J Ship

Summary: Life can be so perfect on a Sunday morning. S/J established relationship. For S/J shippers only - this is unabashed 'ship fluff'. Very short.

Warning: This short piece assumes a Sam/Jack relationship. If you are not a Sam/Jack shipper, then please do not read any further. This short piece does not deal with Pete or the engagement... and this scene is set sometime long after season 8.

Rating: G

Season/spoiler: after season 8

Status: complete

Archive: Heliopolis, Gateworld, Fanfiction, Carterfic, SJD yes, and whoever who wants it.

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended.

Comments: I wrote this scene months ago as the beginning of a much longer idea – and one that would take an unexpected turn immediately at the end of what I've posted here. However, since my Muse seems to have no clue how to make the longer fic a reality, I decided to post this scene by itself. I am posting this, and my other fanfics, to say thanks for all who have taken their time and effort to write SG-1 fanfics... and to post them for others to enjoy. Thank you to all of you.

Sunday Morning

He awoke slowly. Drowsily. With a feeling of contentment.

He was warm. And he just felt.... so... good.

Not 'bouncing out of bed, rarin-to-go-good.'
But 'Sunday morning-good'... 'with a lazy day ahead-good.'

He felt the warmth of the body next to him in bed, and he held his breath. Moving slowly, he looked over carefully. And, his heart froze in disbelief. It wasn't a dream. She was snuggled up against him.

Gently, he pulled her a little closer and wound his arms around her.
She didn't wake up.

Relaxing, he watched her sleeping peacefully.

A part of him just knew that he'd wake up from this dream at any moment.
But the seconds passed.

And then the minutes.

He just watched and listened.

He watched the morning sun play through the blinds.
He watched the gentle light and soft shadows play on the wall...
... and on her face.
He listened to the early morning birds outside.
He listened to the rhythm of her slow, even breaths.

With all that Jack's life had been.... with all the horrors and evils that he'd seen.... he had trouble accepting that he could feel so....happy... so of that lazy-Sunday-morning...good-to-be-alive...feeling....

He reveled in the feelings.
He let them play through him.
He let them have reign on his soul.

The minutes passed and he had no desire to get up.
No desire for breakfast.
No desire to get on with any chores.
No desire to seek out the company of any others.

He just wanted to be here.

With her.
Like this.

He lay with her for another hour or so.

Allowing himself to drift.
In a mental haze of pleasure.
Feeling this time.
The early morning light.
The perfect temperature.
Her warmth next to him.

The two of them together.
The lights, the shadows.
The sounds of the birds and her soft breaths.
He felt good, not exhausted, not tired, not achy.
Yet not fidgety, not restrained.

His thoughts drifted back over the past evening.
And the night...and he couldn't stop the grin on his face.
His thoughts skipped over the past nine months and his heart clenched at the thoughts of how close he'd come to not realizing the past few weeks.

And last night.
Of course.

But, that was the icing.
The past few weeks had been the cake.

And, this morning. Right now.
With Sam asleep in his arms everything felt right with the world.

Sunday mornings could be so perfect.

This was what he wanted.
This was what he had.

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