Disclaimer: Not mine. Set: s6/7, most likely. Nothing spoilery, really. Notes: Fluff. For Jara.

Capitulating
by ALC Punk!



It always surprised her when he smirked.

Oh, not initially. And, not for the reasons she once would have had.

No, it surprised her because...

He just... shouldn't.

He was old and decrepit and he still *smirked*. It almost depressed her.

Sam Carter knew this was *not* a logical reaction. In fact, she was pretty certain that this reaction was so far removed from logic that even Van Gogh would raise an eyebrow (or a knife, but she didn't want to consider chopping Jack's ear off. Even if it was vaguely appealing).

"What?"

Could she hit him? Nail her commanding officer with a punch that would knock him off of his bed and onto the floor?

Would it be fair?

Yes.

Well, not yes to the first. Even now, she was a little leary about being court-martialed for assault on her CO.

"C'mon, Carter..."

He was wheedling.

Dear god, how was it fair that a man old enough to be -- well, not her father. Old enough to know better? (hadn't Janet once had a theory that men got frozen mentally at age 12?)

"Carter. Don't make me order you."

Great. Just great. All this time spent mentally grousing and she still wasn't ready. "Another minute."

"You've *had* another minute. Just do it already."

"Fine." With a glare she reached out and tipped her king over. "You win."

The smirk was there, and deepening into a smug smile. "I do, yes. I so do."

If he wasn't slightly incapacitated (Janet had arranged the straps just so, knowing he would *try* to get out of that bed, even with the twisted ankle and cracked ribs), he would have gotten up to do a victory dance.

She was sure of it.

It would have been... cute.

Maybe she should hit him.

Do the world a favor.

Except...

"Wanna play again?" There was something rather endearingly over-eager little boy in his eyes.

Ugh.

"No. I think I'm done playing, sir."

"Damn. Go Fish? Uno?"

"Uh..."

The sad puppy dog "I Need a Cookie" look appeared in his eyes. He didn't whine, quite, but the way his lower lip twitched told her he was going to pout if she didn't agree.

And it was cute. And damn, if she didn't capitulate just to see...

Well...

"All right. Uno."

And there it was. That smirk.

With an internal sigh, Sam began shuffling the large deck of cards.

Maybe this time, she could win.

It was a dim hope.

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© 2005 ALC Punk!