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Stargate Sg-1 fic: Walk of Shame

Written for day 4 of theme week at [info]stargateland .  For the prompt: 38- SG1, Samantha Carter & Vala Mal Doran, Girls Night out which seemed to appear in some form on almost every day, lol.  Nothing good can come of going out with Vala.  Jack makes a cameo, too.

Walk of Shame
by jennickels (aka Jen Connelly)
Stargate SG-1
Sam, Vala, Jack
1384 words
rating: PG

Sam goes out on the town with Vala but it doesn’t end well… as if going out with Vala ever ends well.

don’t own… wish I did, but I don’t. No infringement intended.

Sam groaned and tried to roll only to find the edge of the bed abysmally close. She regained her balance and shifted the other way. But there was a cold, rough wall blocking her. Her mind spun, trying to make sense of her surroundings. Her bed felt horribly hard and where the hell was her pillow? She reached up and patted the bed. Only it wasn’t a bed. She just felt more hardness. Hard, cold metal.

Slowly she forced her eyes open, surprised to not be blinded by some unseen light blazing right into her face. She blinked and looked around the dimly lit room then groaned again as she realized where she was. Sitting up took a lot more effort than she would have liked and once upright she let her face fall into her hands.

“Oh, god.”

“There’s no god here, sister,” said a surly voice. Sam glanced at the women sitting on an identical metal bench on the other side of the room. She was dressed in shorts and tank top that barely qualified as clothing. Sam had undergarments that covered more.

Sam closed her eyes, her head shaking in shame. How the hell did she end up in jail? She racked her brain trying to remember the events of the night. She remembered assuring Daniel that things would be fine and that he was a paranoid worry-wort. Then she picked Vala up and was guided to a nightclub near the edge of town. Things got a little fuzzy after that.

And it wasn’t like Sam couldn’t hold her liquor. She could drink most men under the table and used that to her advantage on more than one occasion. Men usually underestimated her anyway—blond, pretty—they didn’t expect her to be a genius, too. What had they been drinking? And where the hell was Vala?

She eyed the scantly clad woman again. “Did I come in here with anyone? Another woman with long, black hair, maybe?”

The woman hiccuped and wiped at the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. Sam noticed she wore her nails about an inch long and painted neon yellow. “You were here when they brought me in.”

“When was that.”

“Oh, half past do I look like I have a watch.” She snorted and turned her head to stare at the wall next to her.

“So, helpful,” Sam muttered. She was rubbing at her temples when she heard the creaking of metal and clinking of keys. A hefty guard in a brown uniform slid the heavy door of the holding cell open and stared at the two occupants for a moment.

“Carter,” he called but stared right at Sam. Apparently he already knew who he was coming for.

Sam stood, her head spinning at the sudden motion. She felt sick. “Yes?” she managed to croak before she had to stop speaking and focus on her breathing. Slow and steady—you are NOT on a tilt-a-whirl.

“You can go.”

“I made bail?” Her head was still very fuzzy but she was pretty sure they didn’t have courts open at the last hour she could recall. There was no way they had processed and arraigned her while she was unconscious. What the hell had she done anyway?”

“No,” the guard said, moving aside and gesturing for her to head down the hall. “No bail.”

“That ain’t fair, Willy,” the other woman yelled. “I never get out on good behavior.”

The guard snorted. “You don’t have any good behavior, Lizzy.”

She smiled. “I could show you the behaviors I do have.”

Sam felt even more sick and hurried out the door away from the nauseating scene. A few minutes later she signed some papers and her wallet, keys and watch were returned to her. She followed the guard out of the small room and into the central part of the police station. It wasn’t the one in town; she didn’t recognize it at all. Vala was waiting near the vending machines lining one wall. She was still wearing her sleek black dress but her shoes dangled from one finger at her side and her hair was beyond disheveled. Sam made a bee line for the alien.

“What the hell is going on,” she demanded, grabbing Vala’s arm and spinning her around.

“Oh, Sam, I’m so happy you’re okay.” Vala threw her arms around Sam and hugged her tight, the shoes knocking into her shoulder.

“Where are we?”

“Some little town outside of Denver.”

“Denver? What are we doing in Denver?”

“You don’t remember?” Vala gave her a crooked smile. “It was your idea. Something about exes and-”

“Ugh, I don’t want to know?”

Vala giggled a little, tugging on Sam’s arm when the officers continued to stare at the two women. Probably expecting them to cause more trouble. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Sam nodded which caused small explosions to go off all over her head, bright lights popping in her vision. “What did I have to drink?” Her voice was a little rough around the edges.

“Oh, I don’t know—a little of everything I think.”

Sam groaned again as they pushed the door open and she was hit with a blast of mountain air. “Daniel was right,” she mumbled.


“Nothing.” Then another thought pushed to the surface of the fog in her brain. “Vala, how did you get me out?”

“Hmmm?” The woman continued down the stairs of the station, her bare feet making no noise against the stone.

“The guard said I didn’t make bail but I was free to go.”



“Yes?” Vala stood on the sidewalk staring up at Sam with a forced innocent look. One she’d seen used on Daniel many times. Her stomach flipped and it wasn’t from the copious amounts of alcohol still in her system.

“Vala, who did you call? Did you call Daniel?”

Vala stopped to put her shoes back on, leaning on a police cruiser parked in front of the building. “Nope.”

“Who did you call?” Sam joined her next to the car, trying for her best stern, Lieutenant Colonel glare. It had no effect on the alien.

“I didn’t call Daniel,” she replied calmly with a steady grin planted on her face. “Well, I tried to call Daniel but he didn’t answer.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “So who-”


Sam jerked to attention at the sound of the voice behind her. She tried to tell herself it was just her military training kicking in but her heart had suddenly started racing as if she’d just run the 100 meter dash.

“Sir,” she said, surprised at how calm her voice sounded. Vala had the decency to look slightly ashamed. Sam held her gaze for several seconds before slowly turning around to face the general.

“I called Daniel but-” Vala gestured at O’Neill.

Sam sighed, her face burning with humiliation. Jack leaned against a light pole, his arms crossed over his chest. She was never going to live this down. And Vala would burn with her, she thought, giving the woman a silent glare of contempt.

He gestured towards his rental car parked at the end of the block and the two women followed him over. Vala easily scooted into the back seat. Sam groaned when he held the passenger door open for her.

“So, Carter,” he said after he started the engine, “been awhile since I’ve had to bail out one of my subordinates.”

“I wasn’t bailed out,” she mumbled.

“No. You’re just lucky Tom Lister is an old poker friend of mine.” He shot her a cock-eyed grin as he changed lanes. “And he owed me. A lot.”

“Not that I’m not grateful but what are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d surprise you guys.” He was grinning again. Sam could almost see the little gears working in his head as he tried to come up with some suitable ways to embarrass her further. He was good at that.

“I’m surprised.”

He snorted. “I’m sure.”

After a moment she let her head fall against the cool glass and sighed. “This is all her fault.”

Vala didn’t hear her but Jack did. “Daniel said he told you this would happen. Guess you’ll listen next time.”


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