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Stargate Sg-1 fic: Jack the Spoil-sport

This was written for challenge #28 at [info]scifiland : different endings.

Jack the Spoil-sport
by jennickels (aka Jen Connelly)
Stargate SG-1
487 words
rating: R

An alternate ending to the shower scene in
Broca Divide.

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

“I don’t think so.” Carter’s breath is hot in his ear and she starts to trail kisses down his neck.

Jack groans in frustration as every nerve ending in his body fires at once sending a shiver down his spine—something that normally he would appreciate but not right now with this woman who obviously wasn’t in her right mind. Carter must have felt him tremble because she growls into his skin and her touch roughens, her teeth sinking into his shoulder. He sucks in a sharp breath, fighting for control—of himself and her.

“Carter-” His own voice is rough and giving away much more than he would like.

“Sir?” The way that word falls from her lips ignites even more lusty thoughts, nearly undoing what little internal control he has left. He pushes the shower fantasy to the back of his mind, thankful somewhere in there he still has some sense.

With great effort he pulls away, trying to get his knees under him. But Carter has other ideas. She catches him off balance, hooking a leg over his hips and twisting. Jack crashes back to the ground shocked at her sudden increase in strength. She squirms in his grip until he finds himself flat on his back, the wet floor dampening his clothes.

Carter straddles him with a triumphant smile. An evil smile, Jack thinks as he fights her groping hands. “Carter,” he barks more forcefully. Well he tries but only half the word gets out before her lips are smashing against his, her tongue forcing its way into his mouth. He finds her bare shoulders and pushes hard, but he can’t hide the physical effect she is having on him. She smiles against his lips, her lower half moving seductively over his groin.

He tries to say her name again but it comes out a low growl instead. Oh god, he’s losing it, he thinks. He forces his mind back to the problem at hand. With every ounce of strength (and will power) he has he manages to get one of her arms clamped behind her back. They wrestle around until Jack finally pins her face down, his body straddling her legs and her wrist nearly pressed into her neck at a painful angle. The cry she emits isn’t any kind of pain he’s heard before. If anything she sounds like she’s enjoying it.

“If I knew you liked it rough, Colonel-”

Jack clamps a hand over her mouth before she can finish. He doesn’t want to know what she thinks. Not really. At least not now. Ignoring the way her tongue slides across his palm he manhandles her to her feet.

“Now, Captain, you have a date with the doctor.”

He’s pretty sure he hears her mutter something under her breath. It sounds a lot like, “spoil-sport.” Parts of his body agree very much with her, he thinks with a sigh.


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