Rating: PG 13
Summary: fluff. Sam's sleepy; Jack's … awake. S/J in an established relationship, shortly after season 8. Jack has just begun work in D.C. This was written as a one-shot word of the week challenge in 2006, so quickly written and short.
Spoilers: Not really. An AU after season 8. Did I mention fluff?
Archive: SJD; SJFic.
Disclaimers: Don't own them, didn't create them, and this is purely for fun and not profit.
Feedback: Sure. Thanks, and I appreciate it.
Comments: Fluff, yeah, fluff.
Sam Carter shifted her position on the bed, readjusting the pillow over her head to stifle out the noise. Then she shifted again, finally acknowledging that there was no way in hell that she was going to get back to sleep unless she could stop the noise. And it was very, very noisy; yep, outrageously noisy; the typical very noisy supposedly non-noise that Jack always made when he was trying to be quiet in the house.
She groaned. It was still impossible for her to figure out how a man who could be absolutely silent on a battlefront could be so damned ... noisy in the morning, when he was trying to be quiet-- or at least told her he was trying to be quiet. But there it was. Jack O'Neill, the quintessential man of quiet intensity on missions, unless he was really pissed off, was impossibly noisy when he woke up. Always had been, she suspected; and always would be (which was something she probably would work on for the rest of her life to fix and fail miserably at... and she grinned at the thought of those discussions over the years).
But, none-the-less, and all things considered, he was still a pain in the ass in the morning when he was the first one up. Yeah. And she was a morning person herself.
She opened one eye vaguely and pulled her watch off of the table next to the bed, suspicious. Sure, Jack was an early riser, but this was out of the norm, even for him and even for her. Checking the time, she verified that she was right; the hour was insane. The noise was insane. She put the pillow over her head again and tried to ignore it all. Maybe if she kept her head under the pillow, it'd all still be a dream.
"Carter, get a grip. It's time to get up."
She pulled the pillow off her head and stared at some new version of Jack, clearly another Asgard clone, because the real one wouldn't do anything so nuts as to wake her up at an ungodly hour when there were no crises to solve. Make a lot of noise, yeah. But actually wake her up? Not a chance. She'd spent too many hours nicely asking (as in trying to get her point across), then negotiating, then flat out demanding a couple of changes when things got ... personal. There hadn't been many; he was really easy to live with. But there had been some. Not waking her up unless absolutely necessary was one. And the definition of why to wake her up had been carefully defined through very detailed negotiations as something like "the end of the universe, world, whatever." Thinking of that...
"The Replicators have regrouped?"
"Not to my knowledge."
OK, he ought to know. He was a General, after all.
She swallowed. "Okay, a new Goa'uld."
"The Goa'uld's are pretty much gone, Sam, as far as we know right now."
"Yeah." She thought about it. "Atlantis? Something's happened?"
He shrugged. "Probably. But nothing that's come over the charts yet."
She turned over again, trying to regroup. Nothing world-breaking; nothing earth-shattering. He just wanted her to get up.
Okay, this could be a real problem.
She tried to pull herself together. If there was a real crisis, she was usually awake instantly. But this… this was … weird.
"So... you just decided to wake me up?"
"It's a beautiful morning."
Yep, weird. The last time she'd heard Jack say that it was a "beautiful morning" they'd been in Aspen on leave and having a lot of fun. Clearly, a clone it was. This was definitely not the Jack O'Neill she'd agreed to live with. Not a chance. Curious now, she finally took the pillow off of her head and stared at what had to be a Jack-clone.
The clone was showered, shaved, pristine, immaculate, and civilized, its eyes sparkling with energy for the day. More importantly, it had coffee in its hands. It handed her a cup, which she accepted gratefully; it might have woken her up for uncivilized reasons, but the method of waking was at least polite. This Jack was at least more civilized than her own; clearly Thor had programmed in some desperately needed enhancements.
She braced her back against the bed frame, and smelled the coffee, grinning. "So are you a clone or not?"
He smirked and sat down on the bed next to her, drinking his own coffee. "Not." And then shrugged. "Sorry. Like to program a few additions, huh?"
She grinned. "Nah. The real thing's ok with me." She qualified her comments. "As long as --"
"I think I remember the routine, Carter."
She smiled and took a sip of coffee, feeling more human by the moment. "So, want to tell me why you're in full dress uniform at 0430 when your first meeting's at 10 a.m. and why you woke me up when there's no apparent end to the universe, world, whatever at this minute?"
She grinned and remembered her manners, even at home. It was always best to remember them at home. Yeah. Set the stage for more negotiations. "And thank you for the coffee. It's great."
"You're welcome." He shrugged. "And as for the rest, no crisis. I was just awake. It's a new day, Carter. Time to wake up and smell the roses."
"Roses aren't out yet. The lilacs are, but no roses yet. I'd predict about two weeks."
"So get technical."
She thought about the morning and their conversation and came to a realization that surprised even her. "Jack, you're nervous about this meeting today."
"Nah. You need to wake up. Not a chance of that, Carter. "
He shrugged, and she realized she was right. And to be honest, she was stunned. A Jack O'Neill annoyed, cheerful, silly, bored, interested, intense, focused, irritated, annoyed... had she mentioned annoyed? Yeah, she had twice. Well, anyway, all of those she'd seen and she thought she knew by now. But she had never, ever seen Jack O'Neill nervous. She repeated herself, slightly stunned by the thought. "You're nervous."
She ignored his denial. "You are."
He shrugged again.
She thought about why it might be the case. He'd been under major pressure for years and always come through in his own unique way; a way that wasn't part of what was usual military protocol. "You're worried that you'll say what you believe is right in a way that doesn't acknowledge the political part of the conversation and...screw up the conversation."
"C'mon Carter, it's a meeting of all of the Joint-Chiefs and the President. I can handle that. Blew off most of them for years, and well, the rest I like. It'll work. No problem."
She grinned and gave up the thought of sleep. It was definitely time for her to get up. In Jack's version of the world, and maybe he did have a point, the Joint Chiefs were just as scary as the Goa'uld. "Of course it will work. You'll do what's necessary, Jack. You always do."
He smiled at her and then starting joking. "Carter, you clearly need more coffee. But I gotta admit that I'd rather be going in with a P90 instead of a pen."
She grinned at the thought. "Oh, yeah, that'd help the situation." She sat up, shifting her head against the bed board. "OK, I'll bite. If you're not nervous, why did you wake me up?"
"To make breakfast? I thought eggs and bacon."
She snorted. "Cute, Jack. Give."
He sat down on the edge of the bed. "OK, I can live without breakfast. But I was thinking dirt."
"Yeah. You know, you're pretty good at the 'breaking and entering into classified stuff' and I just thought we might check out Hendrickson before the meeting. Just to be sure."
"You want me to research Hendrickson at 5 a.m.?"
"Well, yeah. Nothing illegal or anything. Just the general semi-classified, maybe classified, database review."
"Huh." She thought about it. "So... you're waking me up at 5 am on a day I have off to do research for you on the politico attending your meeting. Do I have that right?"
"C'mon, Carter, it'll just take a minute."
"It'll take two hours and you know that or I wouldn't be up right now."
"Well, maybe." He smiled at her, the "abashed, embarrassed, can you help me" smile he used on her when something was important. It worked as usual.
She sighed, giving in. "All right, I'll help. But I really want to know one thing."
He grinned, clearly relieved. "Thanks, Carter. That's great. I swear it will only take a minute. And what do you want to know?"
"Did you marry me for my computer skills?"
This one was a full-blown smile. "Of course."
She grinned. "I thought so." Still smiling, she headed out to the shower.
Sam938 Copyright 2006