Email: Jo@ram32.freeserve.co.uk
Category: Humour. Kinda.
Spoilers: None.
Season: Six or seven.
Summary: Sara O'Neill. Sam Carter. Jack O'Neill. Alcohol.
Archive: SJD, Random Ramblings, anywhere else let me know.
Disclaimer: Jack, Sam and Sara aren't mine. They belong to
TPTB. If I did own them, this would probably be a lot funnier because it'd be
on the TV screen instead of on the monitor in front of you.
Authors Notes/Second Disclaimer: I blame this fic entirely
on my loopy sister and a really, really weird conversation with Saffy. Not. My.
Fault. But.. "Don't be fooled by the socks that I've got, I'm still, I'm
still Jo/Saffy from the block.." It'd be best not to ask. *g*
Thanks to Saffy and Ruthie for reading.
Dedication: Ruthie. *hugs* Keep smiling, okay?
=*=
It started as a normal night out. Jack O'Neill had talked
his teammates – most of them – into heading to a bar at the start of their
downtime. His Second, Major Sam Carter, had declined the offer, saying she had
"other plans." He hadn't been given the opportunity to dwell on what
those plans were as Teal'c, Jonas Quinn and Daniel Jackson had taken it upon
themselves to keep his mind from wandering – by inviting as many male
colleagues as they could find to join them.
Jack hadn't expected to enjoy himself but after several
beers and a few conversations that wouldn't have taken place in the presence of
a female – Air Force officer or not – he started to relax and get into the
swing of things.
And then he heard it.
Familiar if not a little hysterical-sounding. Laughter.
Laughter he recognized combined with laughter he hadn't heard for years.
Excusing himself from the
tables the SGC men had congregated around under the guise of getting another
drink, the sixty-percent sober Colonel did his best to slip into special ops
mode and started to investigate. He managed to bump into three people, knock
over one stool and spill two drinks during his "discreet" exploration
of the crowded bar but finally, he located the source of the disturbing sound.
Both of them.
The world stopped turning, time stopped passing by and Jack
stood there frozen in the middle of the bar. Everyone else faded from
existence; everybody but them.
Had the world gone mad when he wasn't looking? Had the
Goa'uld taken over when he had his back turned? Had he fallen and hit his head
in a drunken stupor or touched something he shouldn't have and managed to send
himself to an alternate reality?
Sam Carter *and* Sara O'Neill?
Sitting at a table *together*?
Leaning close and laughing like old friends?
*What* the hell..?
He debated briefly whether he should leave them alone and
let his mind believe it was a semi-drunken illusion even though he'd had very
little to drink or whether he should go over and do the polite, small-talk
thing and try to subtly find out what they were doing together.
His legs decided not to bother waiting for his brain to
make a decision, taking him over to the small table the two women were sitting
at, leaning into each other and giggling about something he wasn't sure he
wanted to know.
"Hey." It wasn't the most original start to the
conversation but it was enough to get them to look at him. Now what? Shoving
his hands in his pockets, Jack looked from one blank face to the other,
noticing the unmistakable drunken haze clouding their eyes. "So did I miss
a memo or something that said you two know each other?"
Sara looked at Sam and Sam stared back. Then they looked at
him.
"What are you talking about, Jack?"
"What do you mean, Sir?"
The two women once again glanced at the other, lopsided
grins spreading across their faces. They looked back at him, then at each other
and started giggling as though they'd realized something hilarious – and
weren't about to let him in on the secret.
"He's.. Jack's..?"
"And your..?"
The giggles started again, making Jack feel decidedly
uncomfortable standing in front of their table, convinced that the eyes of most
of the bars patrons would be upon them.
"Maybe I should go and leave you to your
evening.."
"No!" Sara managed to get out between giggles,
motioning enthusiastically to the spare seat and almost knocking over one of
the bottles of beer at the same time. Only the quick thinking action of Sam
saved it from being spilt over the table, the Major clutching it a little too
protectively. "Pull up a seat.
Have a drink. This is fun!"
She started giggling again, just as Sam stopped. "Hold
up." She pointed at the Colonel, apparently not noticing that her drinking
had impaired her sense of direction, missing him by inches. "*He's* your
ex-husband?"
"Yesss.." The smile that spread across Sara's
face could only be classed as sly. "He's your commanding officer?"
Jack watched Sam's reaction carefully, intrigued when her
flushed cheeks grew redder and a small groan escaped her lips as she let her
head drop against her hands. " Yes," came the mumbled answer.
Sara's grin widened, her eyes sparkling mischievously as
they locked with Jacks. "This could get interesting." She patted Sam
on the shoulder in a gesture of mock condolence "This could get *very*
interesting." Fluttering her eyelashes at her ex-husband, she gave Sam's
shoulder a squeeze. "Since you seem to be joining us, Jack, it's your
round. Two glasses of white wine, please."
"Big glasses," Sam added, her words still
muffled. "*Huge* glasses."
"Right. Two *huge* glasses of wine coming up."
Shaking his head in bewilderment, wondering if he was indeed in an alternate
reality – or maybe he'd been hit really hard on the head and was hallucinating,
that would work – Jack headed for the bar.
Three strides away from the table and he was out of
earshot.
He was sure that had to be a good thing when the laughter
started up again.
=*=
Glancing around to see if anyone was watching – and
surprised to see quite a few were – Sam tried to speak through her giggling,
something that wasn't easy when all she had to do was look at Sara to find
something uncontrollably funny. What the something was, her alcohol-addled mind
still didn't know. "We're so gonna get kicked out of here. That guy keeps
giving us funny looks."
Blinking, Sara stopped giggling long enough to look around,
her brow furrowing as she tried to see with blurred vision who her friend
meant. "Which guy?"
"The one behind the bar." Sam leaned closer so
she didn't have to say it too loud, causing them to start giggling girlishly
again when she almost toppled off her seat and onto Sara's lap. "Oops.
Sorry."
"Ah, doesn't matter." Sara stared at the man
behind the bar, going so far as to wave at him when he continued to stare
blatantly at their table, grinning inanely when his cheeks turned bright red
and he ducked his head. "We'll just have to have a girls night in
instead."
Momentarily confusion caused Sam's amusement to fade.
"But we're out already."
"Actually we're in.." Sara corrected, swirling
what was left of her wine in the glass moments before downing it all and
motioning to the room, glass still in hand. "Just in here, not in..
somewhere else."
"Oh. Okay." Running the answer through her mind,
Sam couldn't find anything wrong with it. So she shrugged and turned to Sara,
waggling her finger determinedly. "But we're unplugging the phone before
we open the wine next time we're in-in."
Pouting, Sara put the glass down. "Why?"
Waving her beer bottle around to punctuate her point, Sam
shook her head vehemently. "Making prank phone calls to exes is not a good
idea." The smallest of giggles escaped her. "Especially not when your
ex is my CO!" As the memory sank in, amusement turned to mortification.
"Tell me we didn't do what I think we did?
"When? What'd we do?" Frowning, Sara stared at
her blankly, her eyes becoming slightly glazed as she tried to get her mind to
think.
"A while ago now," even as she said it, a light
blush spread up her neck and coloured her cheeks. "The fake
chat-up-thingy."
"Oh.. Yeah.. Hee.." A very big, very wicked smile
spread across Sara's face as she remembered the event in question. A night that
included them taking turns in flirting outrageously with the others chosen
exes. "Forgot about that."
"Oh, I so wish I had.." Sam's eyes darted over to
the bar where one of the exes in question was paying for their drinks before
starting to head their way. "Please promise me you won't ever *ever* tell
him that was me?"
The look she got in return was mischievous at best. "I
promise.. But.. it does make it funnier somehow!"
Choosing that moment to return to the table, Jack set their
drinks down in front of them and sipped his own plain orange juice. "Make
what funnier?"
He couldn't have known how they would react to his
innocently asked question.
Sara burst into hysterical laughter, her shoulders shaking
violently as she covered her face with her hands. Sam, interestingly, turned
bright red, letting her head fall to the table with a thump as she groaned
again.
=*=
Composing themselves, Sara and Sam found themselves able to
carry on a relatively sensible conversation several minutes later. "So
what were we talking about before he joined us?"
"Hey," Jack stared at his ex-wife, his eyebrow
raised. "I am still here."
Completely ignoring him, Sam paused thoughtfully in sipping
her wine. "We were talking about Tom.." She remembered, her brow
creasing as she tried to think of what else they'd been discussing – that
didn't involve the man sitting opposite her. "And those guys over
there."
"Yeah! I remember," Sara's smile took on a dreamy
quality as leaned her elbow on the table and tried to rest her chin against her
hand. The first time she missed, the second time she managed to get her chin in
her hand but her elbow slipped off the table. Deciding to abandon the idea, she
let her hands rest on the table. "Tom's nice."
Sam nodded, letting her enthusiasm speak volumes for her
agreement. "Very nice. I approve."
"You only approve because he bought you ice
cream!" A laugh took the edge off her accusing tone. "You're too
easy, sweetie."
"Hey!" Folding her arms over her chest, Sam
scowled at her. "I am not!"
"In a non-easy-easy way!" Realizing her mistake,
Sara hurriedly corrected herself. She looked at Sam, only to find a smile
playing on her lips. Following her friends gaze, she found herself staring at
Jack, whose confusion was clearly written across his face.
Biting on her lip, Sara did her best to stifle her
amusement but only succeeded in snorting. One glance at her was all it too for
Sam to catch the urge to laugh and the two of them were once again leaning into
each other, giggling as if they'd been told the funniest joke anyone had ever
heard.
"Okay.." Watching them, Jack decided he didn't
want to know what was so amusing. Instead, he thought changing the topic of
conversation might instil a little sanity into his companions. "Am I
allowed to know who Tom is?"
"Tom's my boyfriend," Sara blurted out a little
breathlessly. She had her arms wrapped around her stomach and wobbled atop her
stool.
"Her *new* boyfriend," Sam added
matter-of-factly. "Way better than that other guy.."
Sara stopped giggling and tilted her head to the side.
"Which one?"
"Gary..? No.. Graham?" Clicking her fingers
impatiently, Sam's brow furrowed as she tried to remember the name that
lingered on the tip of her tongue. From where he was sitting, Jack had to
stifled a snicker at the befuddled expressions on their faces. It was a nice
change. "Gavin! That Gavin guy!"
"Oh yeah!" Grinning, Sara shook her head in
disbelief. "He was a really, *really* low point."
Sam bit down on her bottom lip but still couldn't stop
herself from smiling. "You couldn't get much lower."
"Nope.." Pausing in the middle of shaking her
head again, Sara pulled a face and smiled lopsidedly. "But that guy over
there comes a close second."
Intrigued, Sam glanced around. "Which guy?"
"The one watching us!" Sara rolled her eyes and
narrowed her eyes.
Wryly, Jack gave up trying to decide which of their many
admirers she could mean. He'd only been sitting with them for ten minutes and
he already felt as though he was on display. "Think you'll have to be a
little more specific there, Sara."
Frowning at their inability to see what she could see, Sara
pointed at the man in question, oblivious to Jack's embarrassment as he cringed
and tried to sink further down in his seat. "The one over there! The one
whose nose does this." She pushed the end of her nose down, sending Sam
into a fresh fit of laughter.
"You're terrible, you know that, don't you?" For
her commanding officers sake, Sam tried not to giggle. She failed quite
spectacularly, though.
Smugness was the only emotion Sara let show in her smile.
"Tom seems to like me."
"Speaking of Tom.." Sam glanced down at her
watch, squinting so the fuzzy numbers became a little clearer. "He'll be
here to pick you up soon."
"Yeah." Nodding again, Sara smiled dopily.
"I called him, what, half an hour ago?"
"Think it was more like an hour.."
"Oops.." She grinned at Jack, blinking, appearing
as though she'd only just noticed he was still there. "We're going
now."
Unable to help himself, Jack returned her grin. "I see
that." He stood and motioned for them to lead him from the table.
"I'll walk you out." He watched them get to their feet, swaying a
little. Shaking his head in bewildered bemusement, Jack followed them slowly as
they linked arms and unsteadily supported each other from the dingy bar, bumping
into more than a few people and inanimate objects on the way though neither
seemed to notice.
When they got outside, Sara stopped and pointed at one of
the cars parked near the exit. "Hey, there's Tom!"
She and Sam both started waving and calling out to the
bemused man concealed by shadows in the midnight blue Mercedes. Turning to Sara
after he'd waved back, Sam willingly went into her friend's arms. "We have
to do this again soon."
"Definitely." Both women wobbled a little as they
pulled apart, needing a few moments to regain their balance, smiling as they
did so. "And talk Janet into coming next time, okay?"
"I will, I promise." They hugged again but when
they parted again, Sara grinned slyly.
She winked at her ex-husband. "Hey, Jack, be a nice guy
and make sure Sam gets home safely, okay?" Before he could reply, she
started towards the car, waving over her shoulder and calling out to them in a
singsong voice. "Have fun!"
Rolling his eyes, Jack glanced at his Second to find her
glancing down at the ground, her cheeks slightly flushed.
Alcohol, he told himself. It was all because of the
alcohol.
"Need a lift home, Carter?" A nod was her only
answer. "Okay. Just promise you won't throw up in the truck."
"I promise, Sir." Her words were sluggish,
slurred by the alcohol she'd consumed and the almost overwhelming sleepiness
she felt. Sam was only partly aware of him leading her to his truck and
ushering her inside.
Her head lolled against the seat as he turned the key in
the ignition and pulled out of the parking space. She was dimly aware of him
asking her questions, vaguely aware of answering yes or no but wouldn't be able
to recall in the morning just what exactly she'd been saying yes or no to.
Coming to a stop at some traffic lights, Jack glanced over
at her, wondering why she'd lapsed into silence. He'd been trying to figure out
just how long she'd known his ex and how they'd met but she wasn't being very
informative.
Nor, he realized, was she going to be any further help.
Snoring softly, curled up as much as she could with the
seatbelt restraining her, Sam Carter was sound asleep, a small smile playing
about her lips.
Rolling his eyes, Jack turned his attention back to the
road. He wondered why he was surprised.
After all, it was a fittingly strange end to what had
become an utterly surreal day.
=*=
The End.