CATEGORY: Established Sam/Daniel,
Angst
SPOILERS: Absolutely none! (That
must be a first!)
SEASON/SEQUEL: Anywhen
RATING: PG
CONTENT WARNINGS: One swear word
SUMMARY: ‘Frustrations’ just about
covers it!
DISCLAIMER: Don’t own them, wish I
did! Will give back once I’ve finished playing but I’m not quite done yet!
ARCHIVE: Heliopolis, Statistical
Outliers, DanielandSamantha, daniel-sam. Anyone else, just ask first!
AUTHOR’S NOTES: A dedication to
Mel, whose computer crashed. So, me in my virtue, volunteered to type up her
homework and ended up wearing my dad’s glasses to see what she had written!
Also, my attempt at an established S/D. I can find miraculous ways of getting
them together but, apart from Charlie, I’ve never dealt with their relationship
after I’ve thrown them together!
Sam sat back in her
chair. The wind rattled the windows and rain battered against the pane, but Sam
was perfectly happy. She could hear Daniel pottering around in the background
and a lazy smile spread over her face.
“I never realised you were a
Cheshire cat.”
Sam opened her eyes, to see Daniel
leaning over her. He kissed her on the forehead and she trailed her finger down
his face. He broke away and fidgeted nervously. Sam had really got to know him
over the past few months and knew what was coming.
“What do you want, Daniel?”
The nervousness faded, to be
replaced by surprise.
“Am I that easy to read?”
“Like a book, Danny.”
He sighed and sat down beside her.
She leaned onto his shoulder, and he cleared his throat.
“Well, y’know how Jack wants me
to…watch hockey with him?”
“Yes Daniel.”
“And you know how he made it a
direct order?”
“Yes Daniel.”
Sam still wasn’t quite sure where
this was leading but had a feeling she wasn’t going to like it.
“And you know how I have a report
due for tomorrow?”
Sam sighed to herself.
“Yes Daniel.”
She turned her head slowly and
fixed him with a look of great reluctance. He chewed on his lip and gave her
that adorable puzzled look and Sam just couldn’t say no.
“What do I have to do?”
~
“Okay, I’ll be back in about three
hours. Are you sure you can manage?”
Sam nodded glumly and
Daniel darted out of the door, slamming it behind him. Sam looked up at the
clock and sighed. Eleven o’clock deadline: plenty of time. Sam made her
way to the desk and opened the top drawer, where he kept his notes. It was
going to be child’s play: type up an archaeology report. Nothing too difficult
there and Sam could type like the wind.
She opened the drawer and nearly fainted.
There was a flutter of papers and the open window gushed them everywhere. Sam
cursed and ran after all the papers. She counted as she picked them up. There
was not one, not two but thirty pages of writing. She was about to pick
up the last one when it drifted straight out of the window. Sam dumped the rest
of the pages in the drawer and slammed it shut. She ran into the street,
chasing the elusive piece of paper. It finally settled in the fish pond. Sam
clapped a hand to her head in dismay and got a long garden pole. She earned
several strange looks from her neighbours but finally got the piece of paper.
The rain was beating down stronger than ever and Sam was soaking wet when she
finally got back in. Slowly, she beat her head against the wall. Why on
earth did I fall for an archaeologist?
Sam sighed and went back to the
computer, looking properly at the papers for the first time. Her mouth fell
wide open. Not only was the writing extremely messy, Daniel had written in the
tiniest writing he could. After several crossings out, in all different
coloured inks and a massive coffee stain on at least three pages, Sam could
barely read any of it.
She blue-tacked it to her CD Rom
drive and started to type. She squinted at the paper, desperately trying to
work out what he had written. After a few minutes, she started pulling drawers
open. She found Daniel’s spare glasses and propped them on her nose. Even
though the rest of the world was fuzzy, the squiggles on the paper formed
comprehensible sentences. After an hour
of solid typing, Sam was only seven pages in. She looked at the clock in
despair. Daniel would be home in ninety minutes and she was nowhere near
finishing. She typed up about three more pages before stopping for a cup of
coffee. It was now half-past ten and Sam had only done a third of the typing. Oh,
the things I do for love!
Sam knew it was futile to continue
but she started to type quickly, then having to backspace it all when she
missed out letters.
Suddenly, she had a brain wave.
She grabbed a CD from the desktop and shoved it in the drive. Bringing up a
window, she sighed and settled down.
“The bull is a prominent feature
of Minoan culture…”
Ah, blessed SpeakType. Thank god
for your creator!
Sam pressed the space
bar between words and the report was almost finished. It was five to eleven and
Sam finished the last page. Or so she thought.
Hang on! Her brain registered surprise when she read through
the end.
“In conclusion, I believe this
artefact to be…what the hell! Where’s the rest?”
Sam frantically shuffled through
the pages, looking for the end of the report. Suddenly, she smelt burning!
“Oh shit!”
Sam ran to the fireplace and
cursed again. She grabbed the coal tongs and rescued the last half of the burnt
paper. Sighing, she read the last few elusive words into the computer.
“of Minoan origin. Doctor Daniel
Jackson, Archaeologist on SG1.”
Sam sat back and saved the
document. She stumbled towards the kitchen, aiming for coffee until the
doorbell rang. Moaning, she opened the door. Daniel walked in, looking just as
tired. He kissed her on the cheek, and smiled at her.
“How did the report go?”
Sam smiled her brightest smile and
shrugged. What lies we tell the ones we love!
“Oh, no trouble at all.”