Gifted, by akamaimom (PG)
Dec. 26th, 2024 02:02 pmSubject Line: Gifted, by akamaimom (PG)
Show: SG-1
Rec Category: Jack O'Neill
Characters:Pairings: Jack O'Neill/Samantha Carter
Categories: het, fluff, married Jack/Sam
Warnings: innuendo?
Word Count: 2450
Author on DW: not found
Author's Website: AO3 Profile
Link: Gifted
Author's Summary:
This was the very first Christmas fic that I ever wrote. I don't know why I never posted it here, so I figured I'd rectify that. I have gone back and cleaned it up a little and fleshed it out a bit. It's a plot-free one-shot. Just a silly, sweet little bit of near-gutter-fluff.
It's Christmas and they'd agreed to not exchange presents. Jack, of course, has other plans.
Why This Must Be Read:
It's not near-gutter fluff! It's pure gutter fluff. Just a sweet Christmas moment for any Jack/Sam fan.
The box was long, broad, and heavy.
Jack laid it across her lap and then obligingly removed the coffee cup from her hand, standing back to look down at her.
She sat—criss-cross-applesauce—next to the Christmas tree. She was wearing his t-shirt and a pair of his boxers—the first things she’d dug out of the ‘clean’ hamper once she’d dragged herself out of bed. Bare-faced, fresh, and easy, with her messy ponytail, and her eyes bright, and those long legs curled beneath her. Tiny lights twinkling amongst the branches limned the strands of her hair purple, green, and red.
Laying both hands on top of the red and gold package, she looked up at her husband.
“What's this?”
“Merry Christmas, Sam.”
Looking down at the gift for a moment, she returned her gaze to his with more than a little suspicion glinting in her eyes. “I thought we'd agreed not to do anything lavish.”
“I didn't.” Jack smiled. Sitting in the recliner next to the couch, he reached out and set her coffee on the table next to him. At her barbed look, he searched for, and found a coaster. Once the cup had been settled appropriately, he leaned back in his chair, expectation humming around him. “And you were the one that suggested that whole 'no gifts' crap. I don't recall agreeing to that particular stipulation to our Christmas morning festivities.”
She snorted. “ Morning .”
“Well. It's kind of still morning.”
Show: SG-1
Rec Category: Jack O'Neill
Characters:Pairings: Jack O'Neill/Samantha Carter
Categories: het, fluff, married Jack/Sam
Warnings: innuendo?
Word Count: 2450
Author on DW: not found
Author's Website: AO3 Profile
Link: Gifted
Author's Summary:
This was the very first Christmas fic that I ever wrote. I don't know why I never posted it here, so I figured I'd rectify that. I have gone back and cleaned it up a little and fleshed it out a bit. It's a plot-free one-shot. Just a silly, sweet little bit of near-gutter-fluff.
It's Christmas and they'd agreed to not exchange presents. Jack, of course, has other plans.
Why This Must Be Read:
It's not near-gutter fluff! It's pure gutter fluff. Just a sweet Christmas moment for any Jack/Sam fan.
The box was long, broad, and heavy.
Jack laid it across her lap and then obligingly removed the coffee cup from her hand, standing back to look down at her.
She sat—criss-cross-applesauce—next to the Christmas tree. She was wearing his t-shirt and a pair of his boxers—the first things she’d dug out of the ‘clean’ hamper once she’d dragged herself out of bed. Bare-faced, fresh, and easy, with her messy ponytail, and her eyes bright, and those long legs curled beneath her. Tiny lights twinkling amongst the branches limned the strands of her hair purple, green, and red.
Laying both hands on top of the red and gold package, she looked up at her husband.
“What's this?”
“Merry Christmas, Sam.”
Looking down at the gift for a moment, she returned her gaze to his with more than a little suspicion glinting in her eyes. “I thought we'd agreed not to do anything lavish.”
“I didn't.” Jack smiled. Sitting in the recliner next to the couch, he reached out and set her coffee on the table next to him. At her barbed look, he searched for, and found a coaster. Once the cup had been settled appropriately, he leaned back in his chair, expectation humming around him. “And you were the one that suggested that whole 'no gifts' crap. I don't recall agreeing to that particular stipulation to our Christmas morning festivities.”
She snorted. “ Morning .”
“Well. It's kind of still morning.”