![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
misaffectionFandom: Stargate SG1
Characters: Sam Carter, Baal
Pairing: Sam/Baal
Rating: FRM
Written for:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
citrus_taste's Christmas mini challenge
Prompt: Baby it's cold outside
Word Count: 2,582
Notes: This was supposed to be smutty, but they absolutely refused to get with it. However, I've left the end open and will hopefully have a smutty follow on.
Summary: Christmas lights reveal an NID-shaped wedge has been placed between Sam and Baal
Sam woke with a start. The green LED of her alarm read read just after midnight. Christmas Day. For a moment she lay on her back, keeping still as she listened for whatever it was that had woken her. All she could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat in her ears. Perhaps she'd just dreamt it.
Well, it's not Santa, is it? Her lips twitched into a smile. Not unless Santa had gotten his hands on Asgard technology, she thought and slid out of bed.
However a thorough search of her house came up empty; of Santa, thieves or errant System Lords. Sam sagged against a door frame, her gut trying to decide between relief or disappointment. Though she was glad there was no unwanted visitor, neither was there a wanted one and it looked as if she would end up spending Christmas alone after all.
It was her own fault: unable to figure out what her relationship was with the errant Goa'uld who flitted in and out of her life, Sam had turned down offers from both Daniel and Cam. Watching others play at happy families wasn't high on her to do list.
Not for the first time, she wondered if she didn't ought to call an end to the affair. At least then she'd know where she stood. The only problem with that plan was that in order to call things off, she'd actually have to talk to Baal, and talking tended not to happen when he did appear.
Sam looked at the tree in the corner of her living room, gave a deep sigh, and then headed back to bed. Sliding between the cool sheets, on her own. Her eyes drifted closed and she snuggled down on her side, the covers pulled up over her shoulder.
Then sat with a yelp as something cold touched her back.
“What the hell?” She stared at Baal, sat on the edge of her bed, smirking. “Your hands are freezing.”
His grin widened. “It's cold outside, Samantha.”
The skin on her back shrank where he'd touched her and she shivered. Frowned.
“Why are you cold?” she asked. “When were you outside?”
“Before.” He stood up and smoothed down the wool coat he wore. He gave her an enigmatic smile and held out a hand. “Come and see.”
“What are you up to?”
“Just... come, Sam.”
She sighed and took his hand. His cool fingers wrapped around hers and he pulled her to her feet. A smile tugged at one corner of his mouth, yet his brown eyes were serious – more serious than she'd ever seen him. She tilted her head but when she opened her mouth, he laid a finger over her lips. She swallowed the question and let him lead her across the room.
He tugged one curtain open. White flakes drifted down past the window, to join the dusting of snow that lay over the ground. It was snowing. Sam found herself grinning, excitement bubbling through as it had when she was a child.
“That's why my hands are cold,” Baal murmured in her ear, wrapping his arms around her. She put her hands over his, rubbing at the chilled skin.
“Doesn't explain why you were outside,” she replied.
“Hm?” His lips teased at her neck and she gasped, heat making her knees weak. “How about this?”
She didn't see what he did, just the results – a sudden explosion of colour as lights lit up the trees in her garden and along the fence.
“You've decorated my garden,” she said, trying to get that fact through her head. Twisting to face him, she repeated, “You decorated my garden.”
He grinned at her. “Well, yours is the only house on the road without lights. It's terribly unfestive, Samantha.”
Oh, for crying out- “Unfestive? What would you know about festivities? Or are you telling me that Goa'uld celebrate Christmas?”
Baal hitched a shoulder. “Most planets celebrate mid-winter. It's... almost universal.”
“Really?” She was intrigued despite her bitter anger. “Do you...?”
“Me? I have no reason to mark a superstitious moment in the year.”
Sam rolled her eyes, quashing the disappointment his dismissal raised within her. Extracting herself from his arms, she wandered across the room, her pleasure at the snow and lights turned to ash.
“So why are you here? And why light my garden?”
“I could go,” Baal said, tone dry.
She glared at him. “Fine. Go.”
Sitting down on her bed, she waited to feel the prickle of the Asgard beam. It didn't happen and she lifted her head to glare at him again.
“Well?”
“Do you really want me to go?”
Yes. No. She honestly didn't know. He drove her to distraction, irritated the hell out of her, but yet... But yet there were moments when he was more human than she'd ever imagined him being, and she ached for his touch.
“I hate you,” she muttered, meaning the opposite. And he probably knew that.
He looked at her for a moment, then walked towards her. She tensed, hands knotting on the cover of her bed. Turned her head as he reached out to her, but his knuckles still brushed her cheek. She let out a shuddering sigh and swallowed the burn of tears.
“Come here,” he said, a soft order but an order none-the-less.
Sam pushed up, reluctant to get anywhere near him. Needing to be closer. She hated herself right now as well as him.
“Would you really send me away?” he asked, eyes wide in a kicked puppy expression he wore very well. “On Christmas?”
“You don't celebrate, so it doesn't count.” She had to hang onto what was left of her sanity.
“But baby, it's cold outside.”
She stared. The puppy expression stayed in place, somewhat ruined by the slight smirk on his lips. Annoyance vied with affection, and she gave up, allowing the smile to come. She shook her head with a sigh.
“You're impossible.”
“Lovable,” he corrected.
“Arrogant.”
“Confident.”
She laughed and wrapped one arm around his neck. “Pervasive.”
He smirked. “I'll give you that one.”
“It means that you get under my skin,” Sam told him. “Not what you think it means, which is no doubt something dirty.”
“Me?” His expression was one of poorly contrived innocence. “I would never insinuate anything of the sort.”
“Liar.” She sighed at the gooseflesh that shivered over her skin as he threaded his fingers through her hair. “Why won't you leave me alone?”
“You don't want me to.”
No, she didn't. “Foolish Tau'ri female,” she murmured.
“Perhaps.” Baal smiled and held the back of her head, angling her and then brushing his lips against hers. She closed her eyes at the aching heat that gnawed at her stomach. “But you are mine.”
“Your what?” she wondered even at his warm lips traced the line of her jaw. “A distraction? A plaything? Something to pass the time when you get bored or... itchy.”
Baal dropped his hands and stepped back. She swore the look on his face was hurt.
“Is that what you think?” he asked, his tone full of disbelief as if she'd missed something. She didn't think she had.
“You flit in and out,” she said. “You never stay. What else am I supposed to think?”
“I...” He frowned and turned away. “I thought you understood.”
“I think I do.” Sam folded her arms, suddenly cold. “That's the problem.”
He glared at her. This time she definitely saw hurt. “I cannot stay, Samantha. You of all people should know that. After all, you do work for some of the people that would have my hide if they imagined for one second that I was settling on this planet again.”
The mild chill turned to ice. Sam sank back to the bed.
“Oh.” How could she have forgotten that? Other than that's what he did – made her forget everything, even her own damn name. “Have they...” Her stomach twisted. “Have they warned you off?”
Baal said nothing. Her stomach sank.
“Oh,” she said again. She should have seen this coming. “Happy Christmas,” she muttered to herself. It wasn't fair.
“I thought you knew.”
It took a moment for that statement to sink in. when it did, Sam felt as if he'd stabbed her.
“No! How could you...” Words failed her as she stared at him. She swallowed hard but the tears came regardless. “God, Baal if I wanted to end this, I'd tell you. I wouldn't hide behind NID sanctions. Of all the-”
Fury surged. She picked up a pillow and threw it at him, wishing it was something harder. It wasn't enough and she scrambled to her feet, intent on doing some serious damage. He gasped as her fist buried in his stomach. She swung as he doubled over. Her hand connected with his cheek in a hard slap that sounded very loud.
Brought her to her senses. She fisted her hands, reining in her anger before she really hurt him. It took a lot of effort. Her chest heaved as she hauled in deep breaths, watching his straighten, eyes glowing. She didn't care.
“After everything I've done,” she grated. “All the interviews, the reviews, the psychiatric evaluations, the questions over my loyalty. All the abuse I've taken, and you accuse me of something so underhanded that... I don't even have the words. How dare you.”
The light in Baal's eyes died. He wiped a hand across his mouth, thumbing the blood at the corner. He stared down at his hand, his expression dark. Sam squared her shoulders, ready for him even though she knew she'd stand no chance: he was so much stronger than her, too strong to fight for any length of time.
His eyes lifted and he looked at her. She took in a deep breath and held his gaze. A humourless smile flickered over his lips and he glanced away.
“This hasn't exactly gone as I'd planned.” His voice was low, wry. He huffed and shook his head. “Not at all as I'd planned.”
Sam relaxed a little. If he was angry, he was containing it. She licked her dry lips.
“Let me get this straight: the NID have limited your access to... is it the SGC or just me?”
“Just you. They believe I am... a bad influence.”
Her lips twitched. “I can't imagine why they might think that,” she muttered and folded her arms again. Hugged herself tight. “You thought I had something to do with that.”
“I... considered the possibility.”
Sam gulped back the hurt. “And because your visits were suddenly shorter, I thought you'd gotten bored at best.”
He looked back. “And at worst?”
“You'd found someone else.” It probably wasn't the best of confessions to make, but it was the truth, what she'd truly feared. “I...”
Words failed her again. Either case would probably be better than this borderline affair that was clearly frowned on by everyone, yet the idea was a knife to her heart. She couldn't lose him. It was that simple, that complicated.
“Divide and conquer,” Baal muttered. “I should have known, should have seen it for what it was.”
Sam slid her arms around his neck as he gathered her into his, closing her eyes as he pulled her close, held her tight. She leant against him, aching and cold.
“I'm sorry,” she said, her voice breaking. “I'm so sorry.”
“Shh.” A hand swept over her hair, his lips pressed to her temple. “It wasn't just you. I should have... damn it, Sam; this is not fair! How much more do I have to do?”
“I don't know.” It was so utterly hopeless. “Maybe if you left me alone.”
His eyes were black when he pushed her away, holding her at arms' length. “I can't,” he said softly. “I... need you too much.”
She smiled at him. “I need you, too.”
“Sam...”
She groaned as he kissed her, all desperate, barely contained passion, clinging as the heat of desire burnt away every doubt and reticence. Sense departed and all she wanted, all she needed, was him.
Her fingers fumbled over the fastenings of his coat, then she slid her hands over the silk of the top beneath, carassing his chest and pushing the coat off his shoulders. The feel of him - the smooth heat of his skin, the firm swell of his muscles - was something that never got old. Perfectly formed, perfectly proportioned. Perfectly desirably and his proximity made her blood fizz.
“I could never give up on this,” she said, her voice cracking as his mouth found the sweet spot on her throat. Her knees gave and his arms tightened around her. “No matter what.”
“Why do you think I risk their wrath?” His husky voice warmed the side of her neck. She smiled and ran a hand over his short pepper hair. “I could not give you up.”
Turning her head, she found his mouth and kissed him hard, her tongue slipping between his lips and tracing his teeth. He shuddered and she grinned, pleased that she could work that response from him.
“So what were the lights for?”
“Getting your attention.”
Sam chuckled. “Like you have to try, Baal.”
“Yes, well, your house is probably visible from space now.”
She considered that. Lights. Shining out in the darkness. Visible to anyone and everyone. Unhidden. Warmth flooded her.
“Oh you,” she sighed and kissed him again. “Hopeless romantic.”
Baal huffed. “I am no such thing.”
“Liar.” She cupped his face, touched deeply at his defiant gesture. “I'm not ashamed of you. I hope you know that.”
Shadows darkened his eyes. “And of us?”
“Sometimes...” She sighed. “It's hard, Baal. You're not there. You don't have to face the questions and disapproving looks.” He looked away and she pulled him closer. “I don't want to talk about this now,” she told him. “I want... I want you. I... love you, and God knows I shouldn't have told you that but I'm beyond caring.”
“I know.” His lips twitched, a small smile as he gazed at her. “I've known for a while.”
“The lights,” she said, and felt like the ignorant female he often called her. She shook her head. “Why do you bother with me?”
“Because you're remarkably intelligent, when you're not letting the NID do your thinking for you.” He stroked her cheek, his touch gentle. Affection shone in his eyes. “And because I love the way you say my name when you're-”
Blushing furiously, Sam stopped his next words with another kiss. He chuckled against her lips and she sighed into his mouth.
“You're so disgusting.”
“Naturally.”
“D'you want to make me say your name like that now?”
He grinned at her. “Absolutely.”
Characters: Sam Carter, Baal
Pairing: Sam/Baal
Rating: FRM
Written for:
citrus_taste's Christmas mini challengePrompt: Baby it's cold outside
Word Count: 2,582
Notes: This was supposed to be smutty, but they absolutely refused to get with it. However, I've left the end open and will hopefully have a smutty follow on.
Summary: Christmas lights reveal an NID-shaped wedge has been placed between Sam and Baal
Sam woke with a start. The green LED of her alarm read read just after midnight. Christmas Day. For a moment she lay on her back, keeping still as she listened for whatever it was that had woken her. All she could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat in her ears. Perhaps she'd just dreamt it.
Well, it's not Santa, is it? Her lips twitched into a smile. Not unless Santa had gotten his hands on Asgard technology, she thought and slid out of bed.
However a thorough search of her house came up empty; of Santa, thieves or errant System Lords. Sam sagged against a door frame, her gut trying to decide between relief or disappointment. Though she was glad there was no unwanted visitor, neither was there a wanted one and it looked as if she would end up spending Christmas alone after all.
It was her own fault: unable to figure out what her relationship was with the errant Goa'uld who flitted in and out of her life, Sam had turned down offers from both Daniel and Cam. Watching others play at happy families wasn't high on her to do list.
Not for the first time, she wondered if she didn't ought to call an end to the affair. At least then she'd know where she stood. The only problem with that plan was that in order to call things off, she'd actually have to talk to Baal, and talking tended not to happen when he did appear.
Sam looked at the tree in the corner of her living room, gave a deep sigh, and then headed back to bed. Sliding between the cool sheets, on her own. Her eyes drifted closed and she snuggled down on her side, the covers pulled up over her shoulder.
Then sat with a yelp as something cold touched her back.
“What the hell?” She stared at Baal, sat on the edge of her bed, smirking. “Your hands are freezing.”
His grin widened. “It's cold outside, Samantha.”
The skin on her back shrank where he'd touched her and she shivered. Frowned.
“Why are you cold?” she asked. “When were you outside?”
“Before.” He stood up and smoothed down the wool coat he wore. He gave her an enigmatic smile and held out a hand. “Come and see.”
“What are you up to?”
“Just... come, Sam.”
She sighed and took his hand. His cool fingers wrapped around hers and he pulled her to her feet. A smile tugged at one corner of his mouth, yet his brown eyes were serious – more serious than she'd ever seen him. She tilted her head but when she opened her mouth, he laid a finger over her lips. She swallowed the question and let him lead her across the room.
He tugged one curtain open. White flakes drifted down past the window, to join the dusting of snow that lay over the ground. It was snowing. Sam found herself grinning, excitement bubbling through as it had when she was a child.
“That's why my hands are cold,” Baal murmured in her ear, wrapping his arms around her. She put her hands over his, rubbing at the chilled skin.
“Doesn't explain why you were outside,” she replied.
“Hm?” His lips teased at her neck and she gasped, heat making her knees weak. “How about this?”
She didn't see what he did, just the results – a sudden explosion of colour as lights lit up the trees in her garden and along the fence.
“You've decorated my garden,” she said, trying to get that fact through her head. Twisting to face him, she repeated, “You decorated my garden.”
He grinned at her. “Well, yours is the only house on the road without lights. It's terribly unfestive, Samantha.”
Oh, for crying out- “Unfestive? What would you know about festivities? Or are you telling me that Goa'uld celebrate Christmas?”
Baal hitched a shoulder. “Most planets celebrate mid-winter. It's... almost universal.”
“Really?” She was intrigued despite her bitter anger. “Do you...?”
“Me? I have no reason to mark a superstitious moment in the year.”
Sam rolled her eyes, quashing the disappointment his dismissal raised within her. Extracting herself from his arms, she wandered across the room, her pleasure at the snow and lights turned to ash.
“So why are you here? And why light my garden?”
“I could go,” Baal said, tone dry.
She glared at him. “Fine. Go.”
Sitting down on her bed, she waited to feel the prickle of the Asgard beam. It didn't happen and she lifted her head to glare at him again.
“Well?”
“Do you really want me to go?”
Yes. No. She honestly didn't know. He drove her to distraction, irritated the hell out of her, but yet... But yet there were moments when he was more human than she'd ever imagined him being, and she ached for his touch.
“I hate you,” she muttered, meaning the opposite. And he probably knew that.
He looked at her for a moment, then walked towards her. She tensed, hands knotting on the cover of her bed. Turned her head as he reached out to her, but his knuckles still brushed her cheek. She let out a shuddering sigh and swallowed the burn of tears.
“Come here,” he said, a soft order but an order none-the-less.
Sam pushed up, reluctant to get anywhere near him. Needing to be closer. She hated herself right now as well as him.
“Would you really send me away?” he asked, eyes wide in a kicked puppy expression he wore very well. “On Christmas?”
“You don't celebrate, so it doesn't count.” She had to hang onto what was left of her sanity.
“But baby, it's cold outside.”
She stared. The puppy expression stayed in place, somewhat ruined by the slight smirk on his lips. Annoyance vied with affection, and she gave up, allowing the smile to come. She shook her head with a sigh.
“You're impossible.”
“Lovable,” he corrected.
“Arrogant.”
“Confident.”
She laughed and wrapped one arm around his neck. “Pervasive.”
He smirked. “I'll give you that one.”
“It means that you get under my skin,” Sam told him. “Not what you think it means, which is no doubt something dirty.”
“Me?” His expression was one of poorly contrived innocence. “I would never insinuate anything of the sort.”
“Liar.” She sighed at the gooseflesh that shivered over her skin as he threaded his fingers through her hair. “Why won't you leave me alone?”
“You don't want me to.”
No, she didn't. “Foolish Tau'ri female,” she murmured.
“Perhaps.” Baal smiled and held the back of her head, angling her and then brushing his lips against hers. She closed her eyes at the aching heat that gnawed at her stomach. “But you are mine.”
“Your what?” she wondered even at his warm lips traced the line of her jaw. “A distraction? A plaything? Something to pass the time when you get bored or... itchy.”
Baal dropped his hands and stepped back. She swore the look on his face was hurt.
“Is that what you think?” he asked, his tone full of disbelief as if she'd missed something. She didn't think she had.
“You flit in and out,” she said. “You never stay. What else am I supposed to think?”
“I...” He frowned and turned away. “I thought you understood.”
“I think I do.” Sam folded her arms, suddenly cold. “That's the problem.”
He glared at her. This time she definitely saw hurt. “I cannot stay, Samantha. You of all people should know that. After all, you do work for some of the people that would have my hide if they imagined for one second that I was settling on this planet again.”
The mild chill turned to ice. Sam sank back to the bed.
“Oh.” How could she have forgotten that? Other than that's what he did – made her forget everything, even her own damn name. “Have they...” Her stomach twisted. “Have they warned you off?”
Baal said nothing. Her stomach sank.
“Oh,” she said again. She should have seen this coming. “Happy Christmas,” she muttered to herself. It wasn't fair.
“I thought you knew.”
It took a moment for that statement to sink in. when it did, Sam felt as if he'd stabbed her.
“No! How could you...” Words failed her as she stared at him. She swallowed hard but the tears came regardless. “God, Baal if I wanted to end this, I'd tell you. I wouldn't hide behind NID sanctions. Of all the-”
Fury surged. She picked up a pillow and threw it at him, wishing it was something harder. It wasn't enough and she scrambled to her feet, intent on doing some serious damage. He gasped as her fist buried in his stomach. She swung as he doubled over. Her hand connected with his cheek in a hard slap that sounded very loud.
Brought her to her senses. She fisted her hands, reining in her anger before she really hurt him. It took a lot of effort. Her chest heaved as she hauled in deep breaths, watching his straighten, eyes glowing. She didn't care.
“After everything I've done,” she grated. “All the interviews, the reviews, the psychiatric evaluations, the questions over my loyalty. All the abuse I've taken, and you accuse me of something so underhanded that... I don't even have the words. How dare you.”
The light in Baal's eyes died. He wiped a hand across his mouth, thumbing the blood at the corner. He stared down at his hand, his expression dark. Sam squared her shoulders, ready for him even though she knew she'd stand no chance: he was so much stronger than her, too strong to fight for any length of time.
His eyes lifted and he looked at her. She took in a deep breath and held his gaze. A humourless smile flickered over his lips and he glanced away.
“This hasn't exactly gone as I'd planned.” His voice was low, wry. He huffed and shook his head. “Not at all as I'd planned.”
Sam relaxed a little. If he was angry, he was containing it. She licked her dry lips.
“Let me get this straight: the NID have limited your access to... is it the SGC or just me?”
“Just you. They believe I am... a bad influence.”
Her lips twitched. “I can't imagine why they might think that,” she muttered and folded her arms again. Hugged herself tight. “You thought I had something to do with that.”
“I... considered the possibility.”
Sam gulped back the hurt. “And because your visits were suddenly shorter, I thought you'd gotten bored at best.”
He looked back. “And at worst?”
“You'd found someone else.” It probably wasn't the best of confessions to make, but it was the truth, what she'd truly feared. “I...”
Words failed her again. Either case would probably be better than this borderline affair that was clearly frowned on by everyone, yet the idea was a knife to her heart. She couldn't lose him. It was that simple, that complicated.
“Divide and conquer,” Baal muttered. “I should have known, should have seen it for what it was.”
Sam slid her arms around his neck as he gathered her into his, closing her eyes as he pulled her close, held her tight. She leant against him, aching and cold.
“I'm sorry,” she said, her voice breaking. “I'm so sorry.”
“Shh.” A hand swept over her hair, his lips pressed to her temple. “It wasn't just you. I should have... damn it, Sam; this is not fair! How much more do I have to do?”
“I don't know.” It was so utterly hopeless. “Maybe if you left me alone.”
His eyes were black when he pushed her away, holding her at arms' length. “I can't,” he said softly. “I... need you too much.”
She smiled at him. “I need you, too.”
“Sam...”
She groaned as he kissed her, all desperate, barely contained passion, clinging as the heat of desire burnt away every doubt and reticence. Sense departed and all she wanted, all she needed, was him.
Her fingers fumbled over the fastenings of his coat, then she slid her hands over the silk of the top beneath, carassing his chest and pushing the coat off his shoulders. The feel of him - the smooth heat of his skin, the firm swell of his muscles - was something that never got old. Perfectly formed, perfectly proportioned. Perfectly desirably and his proximity made her blood fizz.
“I could never give up on this,” she said, her voice cracking as his mouth found the sweet spot on her throat. Her knees gave and his arms tightened around her. “No matter what.”
“Why do you think I risk their wrath?” His husky voice warmed the side of her neck. She smiled and ran a hand over his short pepper hair. “I could not give you up.”
Turning her head, she found his mouth and kissed him hard, her tongue slipping between his lips and tracing his teeth. He shuddered and she grinned, pleased that she could work that response from him.
“So what were the lights for?”
“Getting your attention.”
Sam chuckled. “Like you have to try, Baal.”
“Yes, well, your house is probably visible from space now.”
She considered that. Lights. Shining out in the darkness. Visible to anyone and everyone. Unhidden. Warmth flooded her.
“Oh you,” she sighed and kissed him again. “Hopeless romantic.”
Baal huffed. “I am no such thing.”
“Liar.” She cupped his face, touched deeply at his defiant gesture. “I'm not ashamed of you. I hope you know that.”
Shadows darkened his eyes. “And of us?”
“Sometimes...” She sighed. “It's hard, Baal. You're not there. You don't have to face the questions and disapproving looks.” He looked away and she pulled him closer. “I don't want to talk about this now,” she told him. “I want... I want you. I... love you, and God knows I shouldn't have told you that but I'm beyond caring.”
“I know.” His lips twitched, a small smile as he gazed at her. “I've known for a while.”
“The lights,” she said, and felt like the ignorant female he often called her. She shook her head. “Why do you bother with me?”
“Because you're remarkably intelligent, when you're not letting the NID do your thinking for you.” He stroked her cheek, his touch gentle. Affection shone in his eyes. “And because I love the way you say my name when you're-”
Blushing furiously, Sam stopped his next words with another kiss. He chuckled against her lips and she sighed into his mouth.
“You're so disgusting.”
“Naturally.”
“D'you want to make me say your name like that now?”
He grinned at her. “Absolutely.”
