When You Can't Get Home
When You Can't Get Home
by Shane Vansen
TITLE: When You Can't Get Home
AUTHOR: Shane Vansen
EMAIL: the_fourth_dimension@hotmail.com
STATUS: Complete
CATEGORY: Drabble, Sam/Jack UST/romance, angst
SPOILERS: None
SEASON: Third, I guess
RATING: G
CONTENT WARNINGS: A little sappy. Does that count as anything?
FEEDBACK: Mais oui, mes cheres! (Translation: most definitely!)
SUMMARY: Um... title covers it
DISCLAIMER: I didn't actually use any names, but anyway, Stargate SG-1 and its characters belong to MGM, Gekko Film Corp and Double Secret Productions. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment purposes and no money exhanged hands. No copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
ARCHIVE: Go for it! Could you let me know, though, so I could check it out? Thanx.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Just a pair of drabbles that were kicking around in my head. I couldn't find a place for them in my current fic, so here they are. Oh, and if anyone wants to write a complete story around these, please feel free -- I'd love to read it. In fact, could you email me a copy when you're done?
Enjoy!
He found her at the cliff's edge, her arms folded protectively across her stomach. Quietly moving up behind her, he hesitated before loosely wrapping her in his arms.
To his surprise, she didn't pull away but instead leaned back in his embrace, seeking comfort.
They stood silently for a long while, witnessing the sun's inevitable descent and the emergence of the still unfamiliar stars. His grip tightened suddenly and her arms, laying over his now, returned the gesture.
"C'mon," he whispered. "The guys'll worry."
She gave one last glance at the horizon before they turned and left, hand in hand.
Just as the second moon rose above the horizon, they arrrived back at the small home the natives had donated to the four stranded teammates . By unspoken agreement, they both moved to her room.
Under the cover of darkness, beneath the blankets, they lay facing each other, foreheads touching, legs brushing, hands coming together and entangling gently in the space between them.
"I want to go home." Her barely audible whisper broke the silence.
"I know." He squeezed her hand. "Me too."
They spent the night together, drawing comfort simply from each other's presence.
In the morning, things looked brighter.
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Shane Vansen
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