Dogs
Author: wanderingsmith
jan 2009
Summary: crackish bit of non-sense
Rating: adult (NC17)
*topics* only
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me
for this. As it is thought, so let it be said; you make the toys, I
play with 'em.
Jack walked into the infirmary, hoping the doc wouldn't make too much
of a fuss about *how* he'd sprained his wrist. The klaxon
announcing SG-12's early return had caught him in a distracted
moment; who the hell would have thought you even *could* sprain
your wrist doing that? Damned international forces exchanges
anyway.
"*Four* very measly inches. And
THIN!"
He jerked to a stop, blinking in almost-shock as he stared at the back
of Carter's head, seeing her fingers held up in a demonstration of the
'four' inches. What the hell had he just walked into?? And
why hadn't he known Sam was in the mountain?
"Err,
doc?" Jack raised his wrist to the short physician standing next
to her, clearing his throat in what he hoped was a casual manner,
"Little help here?"
Carter stood besides the bed he sat on and chatted with her friend
while
he silently got his digits tested for range of
movement. When the doc finally agreed with his diagnosis of a mild
sprain
and
went to get a bandage, he smirked, giving the blond angel in cammo
almost brushing his shoulder a
leering once-over and muttering in a low voice, "So. Four inches
aren't enough?"
She didn't even blush, grinning at him, "No. Not to mention that
a hot dog should definitely be thicker than my finger.
Sir." She
flexed her index suggestively.
Jack's eyes smoldered at both the mental images she was encouraging,
lips
parted on a very
faint grin, "Really. Requirement is it, major?"
"Ummhumm," Sam leaned over, pretending to look more closely at his
wrist for the benefit of the watching cameras but bringing her lips to
an inch of his ear to whisper, "'Course, I'm a
lot more demanding of cocks. *They* have to be attached to a body
I
adore." She grinned with self-satisfaction, seeing his nose flare and
watching the slow blink of lids that suddenly drooped a bit.
Reducing Jack O'Neill to this slow-thinking, gravely-voiced state was
always a pleasure.
"Adore?"
She grinned wider, yup, there wasn't much she wouldn't do to hear
*that* voice. Especially after being away on a lonely exchange
stay at CFB Trenton for two very long, very boring weeks. She
nodded firmly and, hearing
Janet coming back, she started to plan what she could do with an
injured colonel when she broke into his house in a few hours, "Adore."
Jack dragged his thoughts out of the gutter, clearing his throat
before he gave them away, "Strange tastes you have." Adoring
*his* beat up, *old* carcass? Sometimes he had to wonder about
Samantha's brilliance.
AN: The hot dogs.
and the canadian forces base in Trenton is within easy lunch distance
of Picton
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