Ragtop Day
Ragtop Day
by jackwabbit
Summary: A Simple Day for Sam and Jack
Category: Series
Season: any Season
Pairing: Jack/Sam
Rating: GEN
Warnings: minor language
Author's Notes: There is a Jimmy Buffett album called 'Riddles in the Sand'. It's not a happy album, but it's a good one. A while back, I realized just how many songs on said album could be applied to Sam and Jack. So, a self challenge to write a story for each song on the album ensued. The is the third track. Not a song fic. Stories are stand alone works. Posting in order written, not track order. Thanks, as always, even if not mentioned, to Becky for Beta.
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story was created for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author(s).
Archived on: 10/14/06
"We'll throw all our cares away. I live for that ragtop day."
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Oh, sweet Jesus. Who knew when this trip started out that it would be so much fun? That it would mean a day of simple pleasures long denied to two people? That it would be a much needed release after long months of tension and confusion?
XXX
The briefing finished up like most. Me half listening and just waiting for it to end. Finally, mercifully, it did. Carter turned up the lights, and General Hammond dismissed us. Thank God. If I had to sit in that chair for one more minute I was going to hurt someone. As I was gathering my things to make a hasty departure, Hammond caught me by surprise.
"Colonel O'Neill?"
"Yes, General?"
"Could I see you in my office, please?"
Oh crap. "Yes, sir."
Once inside, George dropped the bombshell on me.
"Colonel, how do you feel about a trip to San Antonio?" "San Antonio, sir? Why not? Great Mexican food."
"Good. I knew you wouldn't mind."
"Excuse me? What exactly are we talking about, sir?"
"Colonel, the SGC is required to send a representative to a meeting, in San Antonio, on international relations regarding the Stargate program. I was planning on sending you and Major Carter. All of SG-1 would be my first choice, but Dr Jackson is already committed to negotiations with a new tribe of Unas that has been found on P2X-J19, and Teal'c, well, you know how he feels about off-base functions. Besides, I don't think this is his cup of tea."
Oh, and it's right up my alley, huh? You would think after years of fighting the Goa'uld and everything else I've seen, a little meeting wouldn't come as a huge problem. But I would rather face a fleet of replicators than go to this shin-dig. Oh, please don't make me do this. "Sir, isn't there someone else more qualified to do this? A professional diplomat type?"
"Yes, Colonel, there probably is. However, I don't trust any of those people, and I want you for the job. Major Carter will be there to help you through any rough spots. Just use the good sense you like to pretend you don't have in that head of yours and get the job done. This not negotiable, Jack. You leave two weeks from today at 0800 hours."
Oh, goody.
"You're dismissed, Colonel."
Oh, right. "Yes, sir. It will be my pleasure, sir."
I head out the door thinking that of all things, a meeting with a bunch of mealy-mouthed spineless dweebs is the last thing I want to do. At least Carter will have to suffer through it with me. Of course, that brings up the whole other issue of traveling by myself with Carter. So not going there. Sigh...
XXX
"And, in conclusion, the Stargate program is...."
Oh, kill me now. Another expense report and status report and blah, blah, blah, and I am going to scream. Right here, right now. I can't take it anymore. At least my presence at this meeting is merely a formality. I don't have to actually speak. Carter gave a little address earlier regarding the state of our naquadah reserves, but other than that, she has been quiet, too. We are just supposed to sit here in our little chairs and `represent' the SGC. Just so the hot shots from Washington and Moscow and wherever all else these people are from can say they included us. Yippee. At least this meeting isn't about getting things done. Nothing is actually happening here. Just reports. No decisions, no determinations, no actual work. I don't even see why this meeting is happening. This could all have been done with paperwork. Whatever. I'll just sit here like a good little Colonel. Whatever.
XXX
Finally. We're done with that stupid meeting. At least it ended on time. 1200 straight up. Actually, a little early-how unprecedented. Thank God. A day and a half of that would be enough to drive anyone insane. Now, off to billeting for a shower and change, and maybe, just maybe, I can salvage a bit of this trip. I have a few hours before these tired old bones say it's sleepy-time so I can catch that oh-dark-thirty flight tomorrow. A walk on the old river sounds like the perfect cure for the aches of sitting too long. I do like this city. I spent some time here at Lackland in my younger days. Perhaps a few of the old haunts are still around. A little trip down memory lane might be in order. Why not?
XXX
Man, I need to get out more. I don't know any of the songs they are playing in this bar, and I'm not sure what I would call those gyrations the folks on the dance floor are doing. I thought this would be a safe bet. A nice country and western bar. Looked old school. Things are not always as they appear, I guess. For one thing, why are there this many people in here at 1400? And actually dancing, no less? Oh, well. Must be a pretty popular spot. Whatever. The whiskey is good and the lighting just right, so I can nurse this for a while. Besides, hunger has a way of convincing me to stay anywhere near food, and those plates from the kitchen do look awfully tempting. The riverwalk has changed a lot since my time down here, but exploring it still was good exercise and a nice way to work up an appetite.
"What'll it be, hon?" A slightly overweight, middle-aged waitress looks down at me expectantly.
Oh. Right. Order. "Ribs and a side of cheese fries."
"Good choice."
xxx
The waitress wasn't kidding. Man, that was some good stuff. I can feel my arteries clogging up already, but it will be worth it. Carter would kill me if she knew I was eating this. Shit! Why do I always have to bring her into my thoughts? Can't I have one peaceful outing without her in my head? One manly meal with too much fat, too many calories, too much spice and too much liquor to wash it down without that woman intruding? I was just starting to really enjoy this. But one simple thought brings up all the baggage that I carry around with tags on it labeled `Carter, Samantha'.
I don't even know how I feel about her. I don't know what I want. If I could ever figure out which way was up in my life, I might have a clue, but come on...what are the odds? I just float along, trying to figure things out as I go. As far as Carter is concerned, I suspect I will never get a clue...what the hell?
Carter?
No way. It can't be. My thoughts just got the best of me. There is no way that that woman out there on the dance floor is Major Samantha Carter. Simply no way. Could be her identical twin, though, that's for sure. Weird.
Uh-oh. I think it is Carter, and I think she sees me. Oh shit. Please don't come over here. I really don't want to deal with you right now. I really would like to take a break from all the bullshit that surrounds the topic of you and I today. No such luck, huh?
"Sir?"
"Carter?"
"What are you doing here, sir?"
"Could ask you the same thing."
"I'm just out for some down time before we fly back tomorrow."
"Same here. You look like you are having fun."
She blushes a little as she answers. "Yeah, but I was about to blow out of here."
"Oh? Where you off to?"
"Don't know. Got a sweet ride to test out and some exploring to do."
"Sweet ride?"
"Oh yeah. `66 Mustang Convertible."
"Excuse me?"
"Rented it. I always rent something exotic and fun for these trips. Beats government transportation."
I'll say. "Where would you rent something like that?"
"Come on, sir, in a town this size, with this kind of weather most of the time, you think there aren't classic car rental agencies? Just a little time on the net and a credit card and it's done. Extravagant, I know, but worth every penny, and a rare guilty pleasure."
The thought of Carter's guilty pleasures is not something I want to explore right now, thank you. But the car, well, this I got to see. "Man, and to think I took a cab."
She eyeballs my beer (always after the liquor, you know) with something like disapproval in her eyes. "Well, your choice of beverage there says that was a good idea, sir."
"Oh, and what, pray tell, are you imbibing, ma'am?"
"Dr Pepper."
"Oh." Um...new topic...."So, where does one park a piece of equipment like that?"
"You don't. They'll pick me up."
"Oh."
"Speaking of which, sir, I need to go. I have to meet them on time or they will cancel my reservation. No refund."
"Oh. Well, it's about time for me to head back to billeting anyway. Maybe catch an afternoon nap. See you later, Carter." Hint, hint, Carter.
"Wanna come along, sir?"
Oh, hell, yes. "Nah, I wouldn't want to impose. I know how much you like your...machines."
"It's no bother, sir."
Stop with the sir stuff, already. No, don't. I don't know. "You sure?"
"Sure. Come on."
"Ok."
XXX
Oh, good decision. If for no other reason than to drool over the sweet little red and white number that just pulled up. Seriously. Red with a white interior. Four on the floor transmission. It was a good year. How in hell can Carter afford this? You know what? I don't want to know. I'm not going to even think about it.
"Sir?"
"Carter?"
"You coming or not?"
Oh. Right. Get in the car. "Guess there's no way you'd let me drive."
A short laugh. "No."
Short and to the point. I like that. "Well, then, take me away, fair lady."
With a thanks thrown over her shoulder to the rental car guys, who ride back to the office in a regular old sedan, Carter takes the keys and the wheel and away we go.
I have no idea why, but I never thought of Carter as the type to just wile away an afternoon driving. Boy, was I wrong. I can't help but marvel at the ease with which she handles this beast, and at the carefree look that just seemed to wash over her as she drove. My God, she is absolutely gorgeous like this. I don't even think she knows I'm here. If she did, she would certainly comment on my amazed gawking. She is just driving. Windows and top down, hair flying all over, no radio, just the sound of the road. It's like heaven. Her driving, and me watching her drive. In my younger days, I might have resisted being driven around by a woman, but I would have missed out on this. As much as I would like to take this car out for a spin, this is so much better. Not that I could have driven this car anyway. The bit of alcohol is probably ok by now, but no chances with this baby. Besides, I'm sure the agency would have a few words to say about that.
I finally drag myself away from Carter's image long enough to just lean my head back and enjoy the sounds and smells of the road and the open air. We left the city behind long ago. With my eyes closed, I feel eight years old again. I feel like I am flying, with no effort involved on my part. No buttons to push, no levers to move, no responsibilities to worry about. Thanks, Carter. Take care of me. Let me be free.
I don't know how long we drove. I don't know where we went. I only know that it was dark when we got back and that it was fabulous. I haven't not worried about anything like that in so long I don't know what to do with myself. We need to do this again sometime. Just a magic day with a car, the road, and the wind. And preferably each other, at least from my view. I get it now. It is worth every penny. Please let me intrude again sometime. God, do you know what today has meant for me, Carter? I want to tell you...I know I shouldn't...but I really want to...it was almost like we were normal people...I need to say something before we get out of the car...
"Carter?"
"Sh..."
"Excuse me?"
"Sh..."
With that you grab my wrist across the seat and squeeze it just enough that I know. Your touch lingers just a little too long and I know. I know this has meant as much to you as it did to me. That you wanted to share. That you let me in to see this little bit of you. That you appreciate my silent company. That you get it. That there is so much just under the surface that we cannot acknowledge except for in a single day of shared and simple but safe pleasures. You let me go, slowly, and I know that for now, we have to get out of the car and return to the real world. But at least we had one sweet ragtop day. Good enough for me. Right back at ya, Carter.
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Ragtop Day
by JackwabbitStory Bemerkung:
There is a Jimmy Buffett album called 'Riddles in the Sand'. It's not a happy album, but it's a good one. A while back, I realized just how many songs on said album could be applied to Sam and Jack. So, a self challenge to write a story for each song on the album ensued. The is the third track. Not a song fic. Stories are stand alone works. Posting in order written, not track order. Thanks, as always, even if not mentioned, to Becky for Beta.Site Navigation
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