Something New Every Day
by Suz email@example.com
Disclaimer – MGM/Gekko/Double Secret own them.
Very, *very* silly. Rated R just in case anyone is sensitive (ha!). Set in season six, but doesn’t contain any spoilers other than for the episode ‘Meridian’.
“Come in,” She told him, obviously in a rush as she immediately turned around and walked back into the house.
Damn. This situation was baring more and more resemblance his fantasy life. Since admitting – at least to himself – that he had unprofessional feelings for Carter, his fantasy life had been getting a pretty good work out on a semi-regular basis.
Hey, he may have been getting advanced years wise, but that didn’t mean his mind didn’t like tormenting him.
Take, for example, the fantasy where he was woken early by his phone ringing. Initially annoyed he’d yank the thing off the hook and bark “What?!”, only to smile as he recognised the voice on the end of the line.
“Sir,” She’d say, not needing to introduce herself. “My car’s broken down and I can’t get into work. Would you mind giving me a lift?”
This was one of his latest fantasies of course, because only six months ago she wouldn’t have been calling him. Six months ago she would have been calling Daniel.
But, if there had to be *some* advantage of Daniel leaving, then it had to be the fact that he and Carter were the only two members of SG-1 who lived off base now, and he was her only recourse when she needed a ride.
In a car.
So he’d say “Sure, Carter.” Maybe tease her a little about losing her touch with machines, and she’d promptly inform him that it was only because the part she needed was on special order and took a few days to arrive.
But she’d be grinning. He’d hear that much in her voice.
So he’d get up then and there, get dressed, then sit and fiddle with his hands for forty minutes before deciding it was time to leave. He’d drive to her place and knock firmly three times.
She’d be running late. She’d tell him to come in; to make himself at home, she’d just be a few minutes.
He would, sitting down on her sofa, idly flicking through the TV channels, trying to find something that would hold his three-second attention span, when...
She’d appear in the edge of his vision, most definitely out of uniform.
He’d drop the remote control.
Ah, right. Back to reality. “Sorry,” He apologised, grinning, as she set about finishing getting ready for work.
Stepping into her house he shut the door behind him, trying not to freak out at the fact that, so far, the fantasy was coming true. Perfectly.
“Make yourself at home!” She yelled from somewhere – not the bedroom, he couldn’t think about the bedroom. “I’ll just be a few minutes!”
Groaning, Jack practically threw himself onto the sofa, acknowledging the fact that it’d been a while and he just wanted to get laid.
Hell, he was a guy. He *always* wanted to get laid.
Deciding that thinking about sex while sitting in Carter’s living room probably wasn’t a smart move, he grabbed the remote control and pressed a button.
Then stopped breathing. And blinking. And thinking.
After some thirty seconds his automatic body functions kicked in, reminding him that he was really going to have to breathe soon if he didn’t want to pass out.
Drawing in a shaky breath, eyelids feeling like they’d been stapled open, Jack decided he *wanted* to pass out.
Right hand still clamped around the remote control, he stared, stunned.
Porn. There was porn on Carter’s television screen.
Finally he blinked, his left hand managing to rub over his face but it was still there: jiggling bodies, ludicrously large breasts, and long, perfectly manicured fingernails.
‘Well’, the rational part of Jack’s brain pointed out. ‘She’s a woman. She’s gotta enjoy sex. Nothing wrong with liking porn.’
‘But it’s *Carter*,’ the rest of Jack’s brain (some ninety-five per cent) argued. ‘Carter can’t watch porn!’
‘Because she’s Carter!’ The woman with the bright red looooong fingernails put one where it really wasn’t supposed to go. ‘Jesus!’ Didn’t that hurt?
Noise. There was noise coming from somewhere...flushing toilet. Carter had just flushed the toilet and was probably about to leave the bathroom.
Suddenly realising the urgent need to get the guy with the huge *thing* replaced by a harmless infomercial, Jack frantically started pressing the remote control. He soon discovered the volume control as the overenthusiastic screams grew louder and louder.
Now the picture was scanning: first backwards, then forwards, the images looking even more absurd at the increased speed.
Why the hell wasn’t the stop button working???
Footsteps. Approaching. Carter was coming.
Ah, crap. Of all the words...
Finally conceding defeat, he had two options: lob the remote control at the television and run out of the house, or stay where he was, trapped in the headlights of Carter’s porn.
Fate made the decision for him.
Carter arrived. “Sorry about that. I’m just...oh...*oh*...”
Oh yeah. He should have stood up, chuckled, and handed over the remote control. He should have cracked some joke about the fact that *he’d* certainly never watched porn, he should have teased her mercilessly and never let her forget it.
A few years ago, he would have done.
Instead he stayed on the sofa, right hand still extended, trying not to look at the woman with the piercing in a really painful place.
Plucking the remote control out of his hand Carter pressed the power button (Ah – power button. Why hadn’t he thought of that?), and the jiggling, the groaning, and the screaming finally dispersed.
The tension didn’t.
“It was a joke present from Janet,” She offered, standing near the end of the sofa as he stared at the coffee table. “Seeing as neither of us have been in a relationship for a while, she thought it would be funny. We watched it together last night.”
Oh God. Like he needed to add *that* image to his already extensive collection...
“Not *together* together!” Carter suddenly pointed out, as if realising how what she’d just said could be interpreted. “Just...for fun. Didn’t you ever do that with Daniel or Teal’c?”
At least she didn’t ask about Jonas. “Strangely enough, no.” Porn for him tended to be a solitary activity. Unless he was in a relationship, in which case he’d quite happily watch it with his partner.
But certainly not with his second in command.
“Sorry for freaking out,” He found himself saying. “I...it was just *very* unexpected.”
“Understandable,” She replied, her voice warming, beginning to relax.
So was he. This was stupid. It was just a simple accident. He knew that, one day, he was going to have to accept the fact that Carter probably had watched porn at some point. Had maybe even enjoyed it. Had maybe even enjoyed doing something while she enjoyed it.
But not today.
So, he tried to be who he was three years ago. He was going to stand up, grin, and say ‘Well *I’ve* certainly never watched porn before.’
Yeah. ‘*I’ve* certainly never watched porn before.’
He was relaxing. He could do that.
Standing, he spoke:
“Hell, I watch porn all the time!”
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