Just a little piece of nonsense.
Some days, I really hate my job.
Like for the last three thousand plus days as a matter of fact.
It should have been a simple quick assignment; bring together the two souls currently known as John J. O'Neill (hah; bet you thought I was going to spill that elusive middle name, huh?) and Samantha Jean Carter.
A simple quick assignment, my celestial ass!
Day 1. Samantha arrives at the SGC and is propositioned by some idiotic soldier with more muscles than brains. She arrives late to their first briefing and is so pissed off that she becomes all defensive and über-feminist.
Girl needs to loosen up in my opinion.
Another day. Samantha and Jack go to a planet they decided to call P3X 595 (how do they come up with these names?). Samantha drinks some 'funky' alien brew and takes off her … Ahem. Suffice it to say, I tried to steer her in Jack's direction. She got halfway there, then … passed out.
Yet another day. Samantha is infected with a virus that makes her revert to a primitive state of mind. She attempts to mate with Jack, but the man holds her at bay.
Idiots. I'm surrounded by idiots.
So many missed opportunities.
The comfort they shared after they believed Daniel to be dead.
Jack's not-so-innocent eyes wandering over Samantha's bare back when they were in that mock-up of their base. And that "who, me?" look on his face. So not buying it, Jack!
Jack kissing Doctor Samantha Carter. Right woman; wrong reality.
Some of you humans believe in reincarnation. That concept is true to a certain extent. Certain souls are destined to walk together — in one form or another.
Samantha and Jack are two of those souls. They have always been lovers from the time the human form evolved for the second time on your world. And Jack's soul was even older — he was descended from the first evolution of your form. They'd been entwined for many millennia — they'd better not wreck my batting average in their current forms!
These two souls have been through so much. They've faced death, torture, the Goa'uld's idea of décor (now that's just scary). They're attractive, smart people — yet they're too dumb to realize that they're meant for each other.
Now; don't get me wrong. Sara is a lovely woman, and I would have been happy if she and Jack had remained together. But things had been slowly coming apart even before the tragic death of their son. As an immortal, I can't know how that feels, but the look of self-recrimination that Jack thinks he hides so well tells me enough.
And Samantha has the unfortunate habit of picking the wrong man. Jonas Hansen was a self-righteous pinhead with delusions of godhood. And don't even get me started on Pete Shanahan. But the girl needed a life in the worst way, and he made her happy for a while. Thankfully she had the sense to end it when he bought a house without consulting her — did he know her at all?
I was beginning to get really honked off. "For cryin' out loud!" I growled as I thought back to another bungled 'moment'. Samantha showed Jack her engagement ring and even had the courage to question him. "I wouldn't be here"? What the hell kind of response is that, General?
I was strongly considering turning in my wings. Okay; so I don't actually have wings, but indulge me. Then I saw one more opportunity. The Pentagon (seriously; where do you Earth people come up with your names?) was hosting a party to usher in the event known as Christmas. And one Major General Jack O'Neill and one Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter would be in attendance.
Formal dress. Not uniforms. But a pretty evening dress for Samantha and a tuxedo or evening suit for Jack. Nice.
I decided that this most frustrating pair needed the personal touch. I would go to Earth and get to know my enemy.
I looked around at the guests beginning to gather, trying to get some idea of what females were wearing nowadays. Yes; I can appear as any gender I please, but I find the female form the most graceful.
I dressed quickly in the foam-green gown with a delicate silver shimmer, then thought myself into the ladies' room of the building. I looked at my reflection, pleased to find that although I was over one million of your years in age, I only looked in my late twenties. Smooth pale skin, long dark hair, green eyes and … a rather generous cleavage. Very attractive.
I stepped out of the ladies' room and made a beeline for the 'bar'. Alcohol had no effect on me, of course, but I didn't want to stand out. And Jack was there, perched on a stool, watching the activities with a small smile.
Damn. I knew the man was handsome. Hadn't I been his ever-vigilant match-maker for over three thousand days? But seeing him in my natural form was a very different thing to the very real tingle that shot through my now human body.
Tall, well built, broad of shoulder, silvered hair, deep brown eyes and thin yet sensuous lips. Samantha really did not know what she was missing out on. I scanned the room surreptitiously and saw the girl herself enter the room, dressed in a black cocktail dress that accentuated her own rather impressive cleavage and showed off long slim legs.
Hmmmm. What to do; what to do. I knew Jack would never approach Samantha romantically. He seemed to have no idea when women were attracted to him. They always had to let him know — usually by planting one on him. So …
Then it hit me. What's more attractive than a little competition? I could flirt. It had been several millennia, but it was just like riding a seja; you never forgot.
I sat down next to Jack, smelling a tangy aroma arising from his handsome face and neck. What was that again? Oh yes; aftershave. I had been non-corporeal for so long I'd forgotten how sense-driven humans could be. "Hi," I said, taking a glass of champagne from a passing waiter.
"Hi," he replied. The man might be gorgeous, but talking is not one of his skills.
I pushed a hand through my hair, then presented my other hand to him. "I'm …" — don't say Eros! — "Erica."
"Jack," he replied, squeezing my hand gently. Mmmmm. Nice long elegant hands too. No; bad Eros — he's not yours to enjoy!
"Are you Air Force, Jack?" I asked.
"Yeah," he said. "You?"
I knew if I said yes, the whole idiotic thing about 'frat regs' would come up and he'd back away. "No; civilian," I told him.
Several hours had passed, and I found myself actually liking my stubborn charges. Samantha had been accompanied by a Colonel Paul Davis, who seemed to like me very much judging by the smiles and the charming attentiveness. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I was completely unavailable.
Samantha, Jack, Paul and I had commandeered a small table near a large window and had partaken of several alcoholic libations. It didn't affect me at all, but I'd noticed that Jack and Samantha had begun flirting. Even if it was in their own weird way. She still called him 'sir' and he still called her by her last name, but it was definitely flirting.
I waved my hand over to the small batch of mistletoe hanging over the door, under which a couple was currently kissing. Oh, it had been so long since I'd had a nice passionate kiss! Maybe it was time to show Samantha what she was missing! "Jack?" I got up and indicated the mistletoe. "It is Christmas," I said coyly.
He looked startled, and even a little bashful, but got up and steered me over to the mistletoe. "Merry Christmas, Erica," he said, then dipped his handsome head and covered my lips with his.
Mmmmmm. Nice soft lips. And the man certainly knew how to use them. I opened my own lips and slipped my tongue into his mouth before he withdrew abruptly. "Merry Christmas, Jack," I said, licking my lips and noting Samantha's wide-eyed dismay.
Go on, girl! What're you waiting for?, I screamed silently at her.
I don't think you humans are telepathic, but it seems Samantha heard me, for she got up and came over to stand in front of Jack. "Sir?" she said.
"Carter," he replied.
I moved quickly back to the table and watched the two exchange heated glances. She tilted her head up and brushed her lips against his. His strong hands landed on her waist, but he didn't seem inclined to push her away. "Jack?" she murmured.
"Sam," he replied. Then his lips found hers. I took a breath. So much emotion in that kiss. It was love, tenderness, friendship, respect, trust, sex and passion all in one. "I love you, Sam," he muttered.
"God, Jack; I love you too!" she gasped, then sought out his lips once more.
Paul coughed and looked away from the kissing couple, but I wasn't about to. I'd worked for thousands of days for this — I was watching the whole damn thing. But when they took it to the bedroom (which they would!), I'd give them privacy then. Maybe throw a couple ideas their way regarding technique, but other than that …
Finally! A job well done. I could go back to my regular life now. Finally have a new assignment.
I excused myself on the pretext of going to the ladies' room when Paul stopped me with a hand on my wrist. "Where's my Christmas kiss, Erica?" he said with a grin.
I was in such a good mood I didn't have the heart to turn him down. So I shrugged my shoulders. "Sure; why not?" But the mistletoe was still occupied by Jack and Samantha so we stood at the table instead.
Paul bent his head and kissed me gently. It was nice, but I didn't feel anything. Then I realized that I could no longer taste the champagne or smell the food. It was time for me to leave.
Back on my astral plane, I observed Samantha and Jack entering Jack's apartment in a full-on lip lock. Jack managed to lock his door while kissing Samantha and unzipping her dress — the man knew how to multi-task.
I started guiltily as I realized I was encroaching on their privacy and turned my attention to my next task.
I looked at the names of the next two souls to benefit from my genius.
Daniel Jackson. Vala Mal Doran.
Oh, for cryin' out loud!