I should be doing a HUNDRED other things at the moment, but when the muse kisses me, who am I to argue….
Season: post Season 10 and 4 of Atlantis
Pairings: well, S/J mainly… some other's might be mentioned…
Disclaimer: Nope… nada…niente…njet…nöö…
Sam peered out of the kitchen window into the backyard, where Jack talked to the other assembled guests when her cell phone rang. She hastily took it, before the sound of it could carry outside through the open window.
"Hello?" Another quick glance out the window, just to be sure.
"Sam? Why are you whispering?"
"Thank God, Daniel", she let out a relieved sigh, "where the hell are you?"
"Why, what's your situation?"
"I'm hiding, what's yours?!"
Daniel chortled very unattractively into the phone. "Don't worry; we'll be there in five."
"Make that two, would you?"
Daniel laughed again and hung up.
Sam tried to steady her breath. Don't worry. Everything will be fine. It will turn out okay. Yeah right. She made her way over to the fridge to get another soda. She then glanced at the clock again. How slowly could Daniel possibly be driving? She would make sure Vala passed her license test the next time. Loud laughter was heard outside and she resumed her post by the window, bent over the work surface.
Daniel cleared his throat behind her.
"Finally. What took you so long?" She got back to shovelling cookies from a backing tray onto a plate so as not to seem suspicious. Somewhat desperately, Daniel went over next to her and risked a glance out the window himself. Vala and Cassie, whom he had picked up, made their round to greet various people.
"Sooo, wanna tell me what's up?!"
Sam laid the spatula down roughly.
"Jack's mother hates me."
Daniel chuckled which earned him a blow against the shoulder.
"I'm not kidding here, Daniel, she loathes me."
"Now come on, Sam. Abigail O'Neill may be a bit eccentric, where do you think Jack got that from, but she's a nice old lady."
Daniel", Sam stabbed her finger into his chest, to emphasise her point, "I'll tell you, she is anything but old and nice. She is vicious. Do you remember the blue glasses you got me for my birthday ages ago?"
Ages ago would explain why he couldn't remember them. "Barely."
"Jack got her something to drink in one of those at lunch. And she was like 'Oh Jonathan, are these adorable little glasses yours?' And he said I brought them along when I moved in to which she just said 'Yeah, I knew I taught you better taste than this.' Can you believe that? They're just glasses for freaking out loud!"
Daniel didn't know what he could think of anymore to refrain from laughing. Jack was right. Sam really was cute when she got angry. But he had enough instinct of self preservation NOT to mention this to Sam's face. Or Jack's for that matter.
Sam stood before him, arms crossed and eyebrows raised and waited for an answer. He placatingly laid his hands on her upper arms.
"Sam. Don't you think you're exaggerating just a bit? You are just nervous."
"Daniel. Don't tell me these are just nerves. She even seemed to stop chewing mid-bite when she learned I made the salad." She looked out the window again morosely. The archaeologist felt somewhat sorry for her. Jack's mother had always found him charming, so he couldn't really complain.
Just then said woman walked into the house and spotted them behind the kitchen counter. Sam had a fake smile on, as soon as she noticed her.
"Daniel, there you are, my dear boy. What are you doing in here? Come over here and greet me properly!" Daniel hurried over to her, while Sam stared daggers into his back. My dear boy?
Mrs. O'Neill slung her arms around him as soon as he was near, although he'd just intended to shake her hand. "Mrs O'Neill, god to see you. How are you?"
"Now now, Daniel. How often have I told you to call me Abby or Mum, if you want. Now I have to freshen up a bit, but I'll see you outside in a few, yes?" Daniel just nodded meekly.
When she had passed the corner and the door to the bathroom was shut, he gave Sam a sympathetic look and held out his arms in a 'what?'-gesture.
"Daniel. She never ever offered me to call her anything but Mrs. O'Neill. And I'm married to her freaking son, for God's sake!"
He could just watch on as Sam stormed out onto the porch with the cookies. Oh boy.