Title: Paradise Returned
Author: Rebecca Johnson rebeccavoyicon.
Spoilers: Paradise Lost
Summary: A short episode edition to Paradise Lost
Author's Note: This image has been in my head since the first time I watched Paradise Lost. It has hung around and around until I finally agreed to write it just to keep it quiet. It always irked me that we never really saw the resolution to Sam's distress.
Disclaimer: Sam, Jack and co. all belong to someone else. Not me. I know, it's so sad.
The slightly wet sound of the stargate's wormhole was cut off by the swift metallic slice of the iris closing – and Jack thought he had never heard a more beautiful sound. What could he say? More than a month stranded on a so-called 'utopian' moon with a slightly (okay, more than slightly) crazed Harry Maybourne had taught Colonel Jack O'Neill to appreciate the smaller things in life. Like the knowledge that the next salad he ate was probably not going to send him into a homicidal paranoia, or that the tackle box stashed in the back of his truck wasn't stocked with grenades.
Grinning at the welcome sight of his commanding officer standing before him, Jack moved forward, raising his hand in greeting and opening his mouth to say something that would have probably warranted a reprimand on any other base, under any other commander. Before the words could leave his mouth, however, his field of vision was taken over by what could only be described as a blonde blur.
Suddenly finding himself sprawled – in a rather undignified fashion – backward on the metal grating he had just descended, Jack looked up at the smaller (yet surprisingly strong) woman currently straddling his hips. Now, he was the first to admit that he wasn't the brightest star in the heavens at the best of times and he was currently tired, sore and remarkably distracted by a pair of unbelievable blue eyes piercing into him, so he felt that he should be excused for not understanding exactly what was going on at this point. As far as he knew, this wasn't the typical way for a 2IC to greet her long lost commander – not even for Carter, who, it had to be said, had always been a little odd.
As a hushed silence fell over the gate room and Sam gave no indication of moving, the reality of the situation – or more to the point, of their current position – suddenly filtered through the sleep deprived haze of Jack's brain. Major Samantha Carter – the woman he loved (he was too tired to even attempt to deny it) and who had featured in many a similar late night fantasy – was sitting atop him, literally straddling his body in front of everyone.
He managed to pull his eyes from hers briefly (though he didn't really know how he had managed that) to glance around her at the occupants of the room. Oh yeah, everyone was there: the techs, Jonas, Teal'c and Janet (oh God, there would be some teasing there later), Simmons, Siler, Hammond, and – oh God! Jacob! The father of the gorgeous woman currently –
Jack coughed nervously, tyring to redirect his thoughts. 'Major,' he thought. 'Carter. Not Sam, Carter. Air Force. Rules. Regulations … so damn beautiful – ARGH!' Somehow he just knew he was not coming out of this alive. It probably would have been less painful to have let Maybourne shoot him.
Feeling it best to try to extricate himself before the feel of her above him really caused him to lose control he smiled up at her in what he hoped (dear God, please) was a casual smile.
"So … did ya miss me?"
The words had barely left his mouth when her fists made contact with his already bruised and battered body, pummelling furiously into his chest and shoulder – thankfully with less energy than the strength and power he knew she was actually capable of.
Surprise at her actions quickly subsided when he saw that the look of pain and frustration that had taken up residence on her face was lessening with each impact. Knowing that any attempt to move on his behalf would likely cause her to lose her already somewhat precarious balance – not to mention the much needed catharsis she seemed to be working on – Jack lay back and let her have at it. Finally her assault eased off to the merest of touches and she looked him directly in the eye and spoke with the slow and concise seriousness she usually reserved for explaining to him in only the most dire of situations.
"I swear to God, sir. The next time you get yourself lost, you can find your own way home."