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Fic: Look Before You Fall (1/2) [Stargate SG-1; Jack/Sam; PG-13]
Inspired by the four million thousand clone Jack fics out there stemming from Stargate SG-1 7x03: "Fragile Balance."
Title: Look Before You Fall
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Pairing: mini!Jack/mini!Sam
Rating: PG-13 for adult themes.
Word Count: 1845 words for this part.
Disclaimer: Oh God, I don't own these guys. They belong to MGM.
Warning: Jack and Sam are fifteen? Utterly contrived and sort of fluffy.
They’d started out as a particularly twisted experiment for Loki and his cronies; interested in O’Neill’s command of Ancient technology and Carter’s ability to work with Goa’uld technology, Loki and his cronies thought the best thing to do would be to clone the both of them. Also, and this was a briefing Jack O’Neill never wanted to relive in his life, it gave them an opportunity to study human reproduction up close and personal. Great. Did everyone in the galaxy know he had a thing for Carter or what?
Of course, after figuring out that A) the clones weren’t going to die and B) they were too much of a security risk to just go wild the SGC came up with the idea that miniature Jack and Sam would live at the Alpha Site. There, the Tok’ra and Jaffa and the small amount of SGC personnel could have the benefit of Colonel O’Neill and Major Carter’s years of experience on a permanent basis. All was hunky dory, except one thing: they were fifteen.
Fifteen year olds, no matter how much life experience they had bottled up inside via unnatural methods, just didn’t have the patience or the gravitas to be taken seriously on a military installation. The SGC crew had laughed at them, the Jaffa raised eyebrows and the Tok’ra, while understanding that sometimes the form of the host did not necessarily reflect the quality of experience within, were just plain insulted. Great. Back to square one.
Miniature Jack had suggested they live in Minnesota at Jack’s cabin, but a couple of teenagers at his safe haven wasn’t Jack’s idea of a good time. He’d scratched that and left them, again, at square one. It was then that Jacob Carter (and Selmak, who could forget) had come up with the plan that ultimately ended up getting put into play.
He had a ranch out in Montana. Rarely used, especially now that his children were grown and he barely spent any time on earth, he’d kept a small crew of ranch hands on staff to tend the handful of animals he had left. The house itself was in good shape and within driving distance of Missoula which, while not a happening place by any stretch of the imagination, was home to a couple high schools and the University of Montana. All in all, a nice, wholesome place for two teenagers to get by and get into the least amount of trouble possible.
After six weeks of being shuffled between the Alpha Site and the SGC, Jack and Sam were just happy to have something to call home again. It was the middle of July when they arrived at the ranch and with school not starting until the first of September, they’d have plenty of time to get settled in and, Sam secretly hoped, get used to the awkwardness they still carried in these bodies.
She remembered how it felt to be fifteen and a half and she most certainly didn’t feel the awkwardness of picking out clothes to wear or worrying if she’d be asked to the dance or if she had a funny looking nose. No, being a thirty five year old woman in a svelte, pretty (bordering on knockout) teenage body gave Sam a confidence she hadn’t had in years. She’d been single for a while, after all, and didn’t have the best taste in men (Jack notwithstanding) to begin with so being thought of as pretty was a hell of a confidence booster. And she was, in fact, pretty. Rya’c had told her so and gotten smacked by both his latest girlfriend and Teal’c.
Jack hadn’t lucked out quite as much; his teenage body had a little acne and a lot of scrawny, but to hear him tell it, the summer between junior and senior year had done him a hell of a lot in the looks department. Sam didn’t really care since he was still sort of adorable with his messy hair and slightly-crooked grin. Besides, there was no changing those eyes of his: warm and brown and incredibly inviting. Nothing could ever change those.
After Jacob spent a little while settling them in (and earning a few eyerolls from both Sam and Jack) they were on their own with six weeks of blissful summer stretching out ahead of them. Jacob had sold all the horses but two, figuring that was about all they’d be able to handle, and directed a little of his own money their way in spite of the decent stipend they got from the Air Force. Sam figured they must have looked pretty pathetic, considering they also got monthly checks from Daniel, weekly cards from Janet and the occasional out-of-the-blue care package from Jack. The first had been memorable.
Mail didn’t get delivered out in the sticks where they lived and so, once a week, she and Jack piled up in the old ‘67 Chevy truck her dad had bought along with the ranch and rode into town to pick up their mail. Sometimes, depending on how their finances were (and they were impeccable normally; both Jack and Sam were frugal spenders and good with money), Jack would buy Sam some sort of trinket from one of the numerous stores that lined the street with the post office and she usually grinned and accepted graciously. Usually. Sometimes, if it was too relationshippy, she’d put up a protest, but not much.
The infamous care package from Colonel O’Neill came in their third week and was an utter surprise. Jack had bets on it being from Janet right until he opened the box and found a letter with his handwriting on top filled with packing peanuts, a six pack of Coors and a box of condoms. How romantic.
Look, kids. I was fifteen once. Hell, I even looked like one of you yahoos when I was fifteen and I know for a fact that we’re (you’re?) attracted to each other. Doesn’t just stop because the Asgard start futzing with your bodies.
Just be safe. And have fun. That’s the point.
It wasn’t signed, but it hardly had to be when it was essentially a letter from Jack to himself, and Jack laughed with little snickers all the way back to the ranch while Sam sank low on her seat and tried to hide her blush by watching rivulets of rain drip down her window. Of course, she had been wondering how to broach the subject herself for the past few months of being in, well, existence and while sex was hardly the mystery it would have been as a real fifteen year old girl Sam did have a strange curiosity as to how it’d be with all the age and wisdom of experience to guide an incredibly young body. Besides, Jack was Jack. His eyes never changed.
They ran in from the rain and shook out their hair, but it hardly did any good when their clothes were soaked and stuck to their skin. The inside of the house was chilly from air conditioning and Sam crossed the room to turn it off, raising on bare feet to adjust the thermostat. It was only a few moments before she realized she was being watched, and pretty damn carefully.
“Can I help you?”
Jack swallowed and nodded toward the box his older self had sent, then back at her. Sam frowned, puzzled, and followed his gaze down until she realized that yes, while she didn’t need a bra with perky, cup size smaller breasts under one of Jack’s oversized t-shirts she did need a bra when said t-shirt was soaked to the skin and the air conditioning had dropped it a good twenty degrees from the temperature outside. Sam squeaked and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring in Jack’s direction.
“Are you really this immature? I know there’s a fifty year old man in there somewhere.” Jack snorted and shook his head, crossing the living room with an afghan in hand to wrap around her shoulders.
“Fifty one, if we’re counting. And I’ve got the hormones of the fifteen year old I currently live in, so yeah, I’m that immature. It’s not like we can’t do it, Sam. We’re both fifteen, we don’t have parents or the Air Force telling us we can’t and we’re responsible enough not to do anything stupid. Besides. I sent myself condoms.”
And that, apparently, was supposed to be enough of an incentive to get Sam to give up the game and just fall into bed with him but she wasn’t buying it. Her first time, way back when, had been unremarkable. She’d been eighteen (just barely) and he’d gone to high school with her. She decided it was time, asked Seth Crowley if he wanted to do it and lost her virginity unceremoniously on his older brother’s bed during a house party (Seth’s parents were notoriously absent).
Sam had always wanted something a little more romantic and idealized for a first time and she realized that, while not a first time in mind and spirit, it would be a first time in body again. Maybe she’d have the chance to really get what she wanted this time, from someone she loved, and who loved her back. That had really been the impetus for waiting but every time she’d opened her mouth to broach the subject the moment just wasn’t right and she’d promptly shut it again. Except now, the subject was very much being broached.
“No, not yet,” Sam said quietly, shaking her head and biting her lip. For Christ’s sake, she was a grown woman but something about the hormones and the emotions flying through the fifteen year old body just made things a lot bigger than they’d normally be. The emotional ramifications of finally breaking down that wall and having sex with Jack were too much to handle on just a whim and she wanted time to process having that kind of relationship with him, go through the cutesy handholding stage and then have sex with him on her terms. It’d be the same for thirty-five year old Major Samantha Carter, except that warming up period might be somewhat shorter. Or maybe not; she’d never been one to sleep with a man on the first few dates.
Jack was frustrated, as he usually was when they got to this point, and backed up to give her space, busying himself with putting the beer in the fridge and straightening up their kitchen. The house never really got dirty, they both had too much military in them to let it get unkempt, but Sam suspected it was really about sublimation the way Jack was stomping around. Great.
So with the rain falling against the windows and the wind rustling in the eaves, fifteen year old Samantha Carter went to her bedroom, laid down on her bed and cried. Hormones? Were incredibly, incredibly stupid things.
Title: Look Before You Fall
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Pairing: mini!Jack/mini!Sam
Rating: PG-13 for adult themes.
Word Count: 1845 words for this part.
Disclaimer: Oh God, I don't own these guys. They belong to MGM.
Warning: Jack and Sam are fifteen? Utterly contrived and sort of fluffy.
They’d started out as a particularly twisted experiment for Loki and his cronies; interested in O’Neill’s command of Ancient technology and Carter’s ability to work with Goa’uld technology, Loki and his cronies thought the best thing to do would be to clone the both of them. Also, and this was a briefing Jack O’Neill never wanted to relive in his life, it gave them an opportunity to study human reproduction up close and personal. Great. Did everyone in the galaxy know he had a thing for Carter or what?
Of course, after figuring out that A) the clones weren’t going to die and B) they were too much of a security risk to just go wild the SGC came up with the idea that miniature Jack and Sam would live at the Alpha Site. There, the Tok’ra and Jaffa and the small amount of SGC personnel could have the benefit of Colonel O’Neill and Major Carter’s years of experience on a permanent basis. All was hunky dory, except one thing: they were fifteen.
Fifteen year olds, no matter how much life experience they had bottled up inside via unnatural methods, just didn’t have the patience or the gravitas to be taken seriously on a military installation. The SGC crew had laughed at them, the Jaffa raised eyebrows and the Tok’ra, while understanding that sometimes the form of the host did not necessarily reflect the quality of experience within, were just plain insulted. Great. Back to square one.
Miniature Jack had suggested they live in Minnesota at Jack’s cabin, but a couple of teenagers at his safe haven wasn’t Jack’s idea of a good time. He’d scratched that and left them, again, at square one. It was then that Jacob Carter (and Selmak, who could forget) had come up with the plan that ultimately ended up getting put into play.
He had a ranch out in Montana. Rarely used, especially now that his children were grown and he barely spent any time on earth, he’d kept a small crew of ranch hands on staff to tend the handful of animals he had left. The house itself was in good shape and within driving distance of Missoula which, while not a happening place by any stretch of the imagination, was home to a couple high schools and the University of Montana. All in all, a nice, wholesome place for two teenagers to get by and get into the least amount of trouble possible.
After six weeks of being shuffled between the Alpha Site and the SGC, Jack and Sam were just happy to have something to call home again. It was the middle of July when they arrived at the ranch and with school not starting until the first of September, they’d have plenty of time to get settled in and, Sam secretly hoped, get used to the awkwardness they still carried in these bodies.
She remembered how it felt to be fifteen and a half and she most certainly didn’t feel the awkwardness of picking out clothes to wear or worrying if she’d be asked to the dance or if she had a funny looking nose. No, being a thirty five year old woman in a svelte, pretty (bordering on knockout) teenage body gave Sam a confidence she hadn’t had in years. She’d been single for a while, after all, and didn’t have the best taste in men (Jack notwithstanding) to begin with so being thought of as pretty was a hell of a confidence booster. And she was, in fact, pretty. Rya’c had told her so and gotten smacked by both his latest girlfriend and Teal’c.
Jack hadn’t lucked out quite as much; his teenage body had a little acne and a lot of scrawny, but to hear him tell it, the summer between junior and senior year had done him a hell of a lot in the looks department. Sam didn’t really care since he was still sort of adorable with his messy hair and slightly-crooked grin. Besides, there was no changing those eyes of his: warm and brown and incredibly inviting. Nothing could ever change those.
After Jacob spent a little while settling them in (and earning a few eyerolls from both Sam and Jack) they were on their own with six weeks of blissful summer stretching out ahead of them. Jacob had sold all the horses but two, figuring that was about all they’d be able to handle, and directed a little of his own money their way in spite of the decent stipend they got from the Air Force. Sam figured they must have looked pretty pathetic, considering they also got monthly checks from Daniel, weekly cards from Janet and the occasional out-of-the-blue care package from Jack. The first had been memorable.
Mail didn’t get delivered out in the sticks where they lived and so, once a week, she and Jack piled up in the old ‘67 Chevy truck her dad had bought along with the ranch and rode into town to pick up their mail. Sometimes, depending on how their finances were (and they were impeccable normally; both Jack and Sam were frugal spenders and good with money), Jack would buy Sam some sort of trinket from one of the numerous stores that lined the street with the post office and she usually grinned and accepted graciously. Usually. Sometimes, if it was too relationshippy, she’d put up a protest, but not much.
The infamous care package from Colonel O’Neill came in their third week and was an utter surprise. Jack had bets on it being from Janet right until he opened the box and found a letter with his handwriting on top filled with packing peanuts, a six pack of Coors and a box of condoms. How romantic.
Look, kids. I was fifteen once. Hell, I even looked like one of you yahoos when I was fifteen and I know for a fact that we’re (you’re?) attracted to each other. Doesn’t just stop because the Asgard start futzing with your bodies.
Just be safe. And have fun. That’s the point.
It wasn’t signed, but it hardly had to be when it was essentially a letter from Jack to himself, and Jack laughed with little snickers all the way back to the ranch while Sam sank low on her seat and tried to hide her blush by watching rivulets of rain drip down her window. Of course, she had been wondering how to broach the subject herself for the past few months of being in, well, existence and while sex was hardly the mystery it would have been as a real fifteen year old girl Sam did have a strange curiosity as to how it’d be with all the age and wisdom of experience to guide an incredibly young body. Besides, Jack was Jack. His eyes never changed.
They ran in from the rain and shook out their hair, but it hardly did any good when their clothes were soaked and stuck to their skin. The inside of the house was chilly from air conditioning and Sam crossed the room to turn it off, raising on bare feet to adjust the thermostat. It was only a few moments before she realized she was being watched, and pretty damn carefully.
“Can I help you?”
Jack swallowed and nodded toward the box his older self had sent, then back at her. Sam frowned, puzzled, and followed his gaze down until she realized that yes, while she didn’t need a bra with perky, cup size smaller breasts under one of Jack’s oversized t-shirts she did need a bra when said t-shirt was soaked to the skin and the air conditioning had dropped it a good twenty degrees from the temperature outside. Sam squeaked and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring in Jack’s direction.
“Are you really this immature? I know there’s a fifty year old man in there somewhere.” Jack snorted and shook his head, crossing the living room with an afghan in hand to wrap around her shoulders.
“Fifty one, if we’re counting. And I’ve got the hormones of the fifteen year old I currently live in, so yeah, I’m that immature. It’s not like we can’t do it, Sam. We’re both fifteen, we don’t have parents or the Air Force telling us we can’t and we’re responsible enough not to do anything stupid. Besides. I sent myself condoms.”
And that, apparently, was supposed to be enough of an incentive to get Sam to give up the game and just fall into bed with him but she wasn’t buying it. Her first time, way back when, had been unremarkable. She’d been eighteen (just barely) and he’d gone to high school with her. She decided it was time, asked Seth Crowley if he wanted to do it and lost her virginity unceremoniously on his older brother’s bed during a house party (Seth’s parents were notoriously absent).
Sam had always wanted something a little more romantic and idealized for a first time and she realized that, while not a first time in mind and spirit, it would be a first time in body again. Maybe she’d have the chance to really get what she wanted this time, from someone she loved, and who loved her back. That had really been the impetus for waiting but every time she’d opened her mouth to broach the subject the moment just wasn’t right and she’d promptly shut it again. Except now, the subject was very much being broached.
“No, not yet,” Sam said quietly, shaking her head and biting her lip. For Christ’s sake, she was a grown woman but something about the hormones and the emotions flying through the fifteen year old body just made things a lot bigger than they’d normally be. The emotional ramifications of finally breaking down that wall and having sex with Jack were too much to handle on just a whim and she wanted time to process having that kind of relationship with him, go through the cutesy handholding stage and then have sex with him on her terms. It’d be the same for thirty-five year old Major Samantha Carter, except that warming up period might be somewhat shorter. Or maybe not; she’d never been one to sleep with a man on the first few dates.
Jack was frustrated, as he usually was when they got to this point, and backed up to give her space, busying himself with putting the beer in the fridge and straightening up their kitchen. The house never really got dirty, they both had too much military in them to let it get unkempt, but Sam suspected it was really about sublimation the way Jack was stomping around. Great.
So with the rain falling against the windows and the wind rustling in the eaves, fifteen year old Samantha Carter went to her bedroom, laid down on her bed and cried. Hormones? Were incredibly, incredibly stupid things.
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