The Better Suggestion
Rating: PG
Pairing: Sam/Daniel
Word Count: 998
Feedback: Makes my day
Disclaimer: If it was in the show, it's not mine.
Archive: At my site Checkmate (http://helsinkibaby.ahkay.net) , the usual other places
Spoilers: For Resurrection and especially *that* picture… yes, I’m denial girl.
Summary: Sam gets a visit from Daniel
Notes: For the LiveJournal MultiFandom1000 challenge, rewind to #5, someone visits someone late at night. And I meant what was said in the spoiler part above – fic as therapy works!
When her
doorbell rings at nigh on midnight, Sam doesn’t want to answer it, especially
since she’s got a pretty good idea who it’s going to be. For once in her life,
she doesn’t want to talk to him, but she knows that ignoring him is out of the
question.
So she
opens the door, is completely unsurprised to find herself looking into Daniel’s
blue eyes, which are blinking owlishly at her. “Sam, hi,” he says, but his eyes
slide off her and over her shoulder, into the hallway and the house, as if
searching for a third person. “I… um… I know it’s late to come over…”
She shakes
her head, even though he’s giving her an out. “It’s ok-” she says, but he acts
as if he didn’t even hear her.
“And I
probably should have called first… I mean… Pete’s not here, is he? I mean, I
um… I don’t want to… ah, interrupt you…”
Sam can’t
help it; even if she wants to get rid of him, Daniel’s stuttering, stumbling,
ill-at-ease demeanour brings out all her protective instincts and she’s
stepping aside to both let him in and let him off the hook. “I’m alone Daniel,”
she tells him, and his eyes flare wide as his jaw snaps shut.
“Oh. OK
then.” A pause in which neither of them move until she inclines her head with a
teasing smile. “I guess I should come in then.”
“I guess
you should.”
He nods,
steps into her hall, and it could be her imagination, but he seems to keep a
wide berth from her, as if he’s afraid of what will happen if he comes too
close, and she’s not so sure she blames him. He makes his way into her kitchen
and she follows him, keeping her eyes on the ground, and knowing that one of
them really should bite the bullet.
So she
does.
“So, what
brings you here Daniel?” she asks once they’re in the kitchen, and he turns to
her, crossing his arms.
“I think we
need to talk,” he says slowly, enunciating every word, eyes boring lasers into hers,
and suddenly she’s the one ill-at-ease.
“About
what?” she asks, trying to keep her voice light, able to hear the tremble in it
though, and she walks past him to the refrigerator, because beer is good in a
situation like this, and it’s his answer that stops her in her tracks.
“Sam, you
kissed me.”
She spins
around, John Crichton at his snarky best insisting, “I was lips, you were
tongue,” the first thought that comes to mind, but knowing that wouldn’t be the
best retort, she stays silent, just stares at him. Because after all, he’s
right.
She did
kiss him.
She doesn’t
know why, just knew that it was something that she had to do. She and Agent
Barrett had heard the fire alarm, had known where it was coming from, and when
they’d arrived there, seen Daniel lying there, unconscious, one man dead in the
cage, and Anna gone, they’d known things had gone seriously awry. Agent Barrett
had kept his mind more focussed on the task at hand, which was good, because
Sam had kneeled down beside Daniel, was trying to ascertain if he was alive or
dead, relief bubbling up in her like a wave when she saw his eyes open. She’d
been even more relieved when he’d tried to sit up, but when Agent Barrett had
run off, he’d slumped back to the ground again, and she’d found herself keeping
back a comment about male pride.
It had been
made easier when he’d looked up at her with that slightly sheepish expression
on his face, when he’d said, “I’m fine,” because suddenly, she wasn’t on Earth
with him, she was on P3X-666 and she was looking down at Janet’s body and her
friend wasn’t fine and never would be again. She’d had to swallow hard, and she
had been suddenly very aware of how close she was to him, how she was
supporting his head, her fingers threading through his soft hair, and he was
looking up at her with such concern…
So she’d
kissed him.
She’d
kissed him and he kissed her back, and then shouts and crashes from another
room had brought them back to reality. They’d sprang apart and gone about their
work, and they’d both tried to pretend that it hadn’t happened.
Until now.
“I know I
shouldn’t have…” she begins haltingly, and he tilts his head, frowning.
“Then why…”
“Because…”
She bites her tongue because her next words seem so melodramatic, but they’re true,
so she says them anyway. “I thought you were dead.”
“Again?”
The
sardonic lilt to his voice does nothing to amuse her, the opposite in fact.
“That’s not funny,” she says, her voice low, urgent. “I watched you die Daniel;
we only just got you back… and after Janet…” Her voice breaks on her friend’s
name, and there are tears in her eyes, and, stricken, he walks to her, reaches
out one hand to her shoulder. He releases a slight “ooof” of surprise when she
slips her arms around his waist, but he recovers quickly enough to wrap his own
arms tightly around her, as tightly as she’s holding him.
“It’s ok
Sam,” he tells her as she cries. “It’s ok.”
She’s not
sure how long it takes before she straightens, wiping her eyes. “Look,” she
tells him. “I’m sorry… it was just one of those things… and you’re right, we
should just forget all about it…”
His voice
stops her. “That’s your suggestion? That we forget all about it?” She’s
confused, but then the glint in his eyes reminds her that she’s still in his
arms, and she knows what’s he’s going to say next. “Because if so, I suggest we
consider mine.”
With that, he kisses her, and she kisses him back, and hours later, she tells him that his was indeed the better suggestion.