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misaffectionFandom: Stargate SG1
Characters: Sam Carter, Baal
Pairing: Sam/Baal
Rating: FRC
Summary: Fluffy seasonal fic
Word Count: 544
Chestnuts toasted on an open fire. Outside the world was covered in a blanket of white, but in here it was warm and – Sam shifted and snuggled closer – very comfortable.
She was miles away from the SGC, with no telephone or cell for them to contact her. Shut away by a Goa'uld and not caring one jot about that fact.
Baal's right arm curved around her waist. His hand had slid under the fabric of her blouse and rested on her skin, but he'd not made a move beyond that. It seemed he, like her, was content just to be. She smiled and leant her head back against his shoulder, closing her eyes with a soft sigh.
“Are you alright?” he asked her.
She hummed. “I could stay like this forever.”
“It is rather pleasant.”
“Definitely one of your better ideas.”
He chuckled and hugged her tighter, pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She smiled wider and tilted her chin up: if he was giving out kisses, then it wasn't going to be her hair. He tasted of cinnamon and red wine, and she delved her tongue into his mouth. His hand gripped her hip.
A loud pop yanked them apart and Sam cast a startled glance at the chestnuts on the grate. One had split open, over-toasted she supposed.
“It exploded,” she said and gave him a look. “But of course.”
Baal rolled his eyes. “That wasn't my fault. I've no idea how long they take to... roast.”
He untangled himself from her and went over to the fire. Sam sighed, missing his warmth even as she watched him juggle the hot nut from hand to hand.
“Is that hot?” she asked with a grin.
“Just a little.”
“You do surprise me. You know, it's only been sat on the grate an hour.”
He ignored her, unpeeling the nut and then popping it in his mouth. She tilted her head as he chewed it.
“Well?”
“It's sweet. Chewy. A little over-done, I believe, but not too bad.” He used a set of tongs to scoop the rest of the chestnuts onto a plate and then moved back to the sofa. Sam made room for him. “Here, try one,” he offered.
Sam took a nut off the plate, unpeeled it and bit in. As he'd said, it was sweet, though the slight charred taste spoilt it a little. Still they made short work of the plateful and the bottle of mulled wine.
“Do you think...” Baal murmured some time later. “That I might have gone overboard with the clichés?”
“I think it's all lovely,” she assured him.
“Do you? Good.”
“You missed out on the mistletoe though. I'd have thought you'd jump on an excuse to kiss me silly.”
“Ah, but I haven't.”
Sam looked around the room, not spotting the plant anywhere. She turned back to him with a puzzled frown, only to get a very mischievous smirk in response.
“Okay, I give – where is it?”
“Why Samantha it's in the bedroom. Where else was it going to be?”
She laughed at that. Where else indeed?
Characters: Sam Carter, Baal
Pairing: Sam/Baal
Rating: FRC
Summary: Fluffy seasonal fic
Word Count: 544
Chestnuts toasted on an open fire. Outside the world was covered in a blanket of white, but in here it was warm and – Sam shifted and snuggled closer – very comfortable.
She was miles away from the SGC, with no telephone or cell for them to contact her. Shut away by a Goa'uld and not caring one jot about that fact.
Baal's right arm curved around her waist. His hand had slid under the fabric of her blouse and rested on her skin, but he'd not made a move beyond that. It seemed he, like her, was content just to be. She smiled and leant her head back against his shoulder, closing her eyes with a soft sigh.
“Are you alright?” he asked her.
She hummed. “I could stay like this forever.”
“It is rather pleasant.”
“Definitely one of your better ideas.”
He chuckled and hugged her tighter, pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She smiled wider and tilted her chin up: if he was giving out kisses, then it wasn't going to be her hair. He tasted of cinnamon and red wine, and she delved her tongue into his mouth. His hand gripped her hip.
A loud pop yanked them apart and Sam cast a startled glance at the chestnuts on the grate. One had split open, over-toasted she supposed.
“It exploded,” she said and gave him a look. “But of course.”
Baal rolled his eyes. “That wasn't my fault. I've no idea how long they take to... roast.”
He untangled himself from her and went over to the fire. Sam sighed, missing his warmth even as she watched him juggle the hot nut from hand to hand.
“Is that hot?” she asked with a grin.
“Just a little.”
“You do surprise me. You know, it's only been sat on the grate an hour.”
He ignored her, unpeeling the nut and then popping it in his mouth. She tilted her head as he chewed it.
“Well?”
“It's sweet. Chewy. A little over-done, I believe, but not too bad.” He used a set of tongs to scoop the rest of the chestnuts onto a plate and then moved back to the sofa. Sam made room for him. “Here, try one,” he offered.
Sam took a nut off the plate, unpeeled it and bit in. As he'd said, it was sweet, though the slight charred taste spoilt it a little. Still they made short work of the plateful and the bottle of mulled wine.
“Do you think...” Baal murmured some time later. “That I might have gone overboard with the clichés?”
“I think it's all lovely,” she assured him.
“Do you? Good.”
“You missed out on the mistletoe though. I'd have thought you'd jump on an excuse to kiss me silly.”
“Ah, but I haven't.”
Sam looked around the room, not spotting the plant anywhere. She turned back to him with a puzzled frown, only to get a very mischievous smirk in response.
“Okay, I give – where is it?”
“Why Samantha it's in the bedroom. Where else was it going to be?”
She laughed at that. Where else indeed?
