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Aug. 13th, 2006 11:44 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
raginhoops.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
femslash_fluffOk, so I had a bit more time on my hands. Of course, not betaed. I do need help at what age Cassie is now. I just imagine her in that girl, not yet a woman stage. I have only sporatically watched SG, so kindly correct my obvious gaffes. Part 1 located 8/12/06
Title: Second Coming part 2
Author:raginhoops
Feedback: raginhoops@aol.com
Rating: Primetime.
Pairing: preslash Sam/Janet
Fandom: SG1
Disclaimer: The show and the characters belong to the producers and creators of SG1. I am borrowing them for fun not profit.
Spoilers: “Heroes”
Note: What happens when an alternate reality Janet finds herself in an icon’s life and she can’t go back to her own?” My note: Janet has always struck me as a bit too matronly and maternal. I like this Janet better. Also, I guess Cassie is supposed to be 21 now. I will bust canon for now. She’s going to be in that girl, not yet a woman phase.
Second coming 2
Slowly, after wavering and vibrating, the poster on the wall next to her focused. David Beckham stared back at her with a soccer ball offering. As she sat up, Orlando Bloom aimed an arrow across at a shirtless boyman brandishing a six-pack, no doubt, the teen idol of the month. She remembered that she was in Cassie’s room as her head pounded a beat, not unlike what that young man would sing to today. At least, she’s got better taste than I did at that age, she thought as vague memories of Bobby Sherman and Gary Puckett peaked through the wreckage that was her brain. She laughed and immediately regretted the movement as she thought that it was weird that she remembered the Avengers poster quite clearly next to the other more prominently placed ones. Must. Not. Drinksomuch. Ever. Again. A glass of a yellowish-green liquid was on the nightstand next to a note:’Drink this when you wake up along with this pill. Don’t worry, it’s not poison. If I wanted to kill you, I’d have smothered you in your sleep.
The Doctor’
A strong pain shot up her neck. It was all coming back to her: the party, the massive amounts of beer she drank, the conversation with Janet. She came home with Janet who hates her. Now I know why. Because I am a slut in that other place. Well, was a slut. The whole planet was nuked so I guess Sam the Slag is toast. Jesus, she flirted with me. Maybe she doesn’t hate me so much anymore.
Janet was drinking coffee at the snack bar and reading the paper; a plate sat in front of her smeared with the evidence that it bore something greasy earlier. “Afternoon, cupcake. Want some breakfast?”
Sam made a sound that defied description soon colored by a shade of green not contained in the 64-color crayola collection, gagged, and ran out of the room.
“Guess some people can’t hold their liquor.” Janet remarked to herself before sipping the strong brew through a dastardly grin- one that grew broader with the barks and groans that penetrated muffled through the walls. Janet made a mental note of the thin insulation for future reference.
The next time Sam awakened, she was curled up on the couch. Now, this was familiar. How many nights did she spend here on Janet’s couch, way too late to travel home under the influence of one too many glasses of wine? One had to be responsible. A twinge that ached like bad sunburn settled behind her collarbone. Her Janet. Gone. She hurriedly wiped the tears from her eyes as she heard the new Janet in the kitchen, puttering around. Sam leaned against the doorframe and took a moment to take in the familiar domestic scene before her. The petite woman was mixing a batter by hand with Cassie on a stool next to her. The metronomic view caught her eye like a hypnotist's watch.
“Ah, she lives. I told you, I haven’t been wrong yet. My powers of diagnosis astound.”
Cassie giggled, “You’re funny. Just like Mom.” The young woman morphed into a small child before them becoming very quiet and still, eyes downcast. Janet immediately hugged her tightly and rocked to and fro for minutes. “I know you miss her,” she whispered through loose strands of hair at her temple and laced them with a brush of her lips. “I miss people too. Sometimes I cry. Don’t tell anyone.” Then she released Cassie and spoke in her normal tone. “So make a mold and put it on this sheet. Farther apart, honey, 10 minutes at 375 convect and viola, we’ll have cookies. That is, if Sam here is finished losing hers.”
Encore with the deja vu. Sam made a face at the both of them. She cooks and plants. She looked at freshly potted flowers on the sill. Great with Cassie; she looks so happy. But she’s not her. This hasn’t happened but something very close to it has.
“Well, I’d better get going to my place and get cleaned up. I feel like something died in my mouth.” God, please don’t touch that one.
“Cassie, take the cookies out when the timer goes off while I ferry Sam over to her house, apartment, where do you live?”
Cassie’s face brightened basking in the comfort of having both her surrogates in her space, even for a moment. “Is it Ok if Sarah comes over later?”
“If it is OK with her Mom and not before I’m back.”
The car engine rumbled as Janet negotiated the snake-like curves at Sam’s direction. Frankly relieved that they did not have to fill the space with words that required careful consideration, Sam fought to keep the acid from ascending her throat. As she exited the car, Sam leaned in the open window, smiled a thankyou, and suppressed a lame attempt at small talk.
“Yeah, I’ll see you back at the Ranch. Get some rest, Carter, or I’ll ground you tomorrow. And you know that means: I’ll have to tell Dad why.” The smile was sympathetic and warm, deeply so. So much like her doppelganger that Sam had to turn suddenly and walk quickly to her door so that her glistening eyes would not betray her. She had to stop transferring her feelings onto a woman that was just beginning to tolerate her presence.
Title: Second Coming part 2
Author:raginhoops
Feedback: raginhoops@aol.com
Rating: Primetime.
Pairing: preslash Sam/Janet
Fandom: SG1
Disclaimer: The show and the characters belong to the producers and creators of SG1. I am borrowing them for fun not profit.
Spoilers: “Heroes”
Note: What happens when an alternate reality Janet finds herself in an icon’s life and she can’t go back to her own?” My note: Janet has always struck me as a bit too matronly and maternal. I like this Janet better. Also, I guess Cassie is supposed to be 21 now. I will bust canon for now. She’s going to be in that girl, not yet a woman phase.
Second coming 2
Slowly, after wavering and vibrating, the poster on the wall next to her focused. David Beckham stared back at her with a soccer ball offering. As she sat up, Orlando Bloom aimed an arrow across at a shirtless boyman brandishing a six-pack, no doubt, the teen idol of the month. She remembered that she was in Cassie’s room as her head pounded a beat, not unlike what that young man would sing to today. At least, she’s got better taste than I did at that age, she thought as vague memories of Bobby Sherman and Gary Puckett peaked through the wreckage that was her brain. She laughed and immediately regretted the movement as she thought that it was weird that she remembered the Avengers poster quite clearly next to the other more prominently placed ones. Must. Not. Drinksomuch. Ever. Again. A glass of a yellowish-green liquid was on the nightstand next to a note:’Drink this when you wake up along with this pill. Don’t worry, it’s not poison. If I wanted to kill you, I’d have smothered you in your sleep.
The Doctor’
A strong pain shot up her neck. It was all coming back to her: the party, the massive amounts of beer she drank, the conversation with Janet. She came home with Janet who hates her. Now I know why. Because I am a slut in that other place. Well, was a slut. The whole planet was nuked so I guess Sam the Slag is toast. Jesus, she flirted with me. Maybe she doesn’t hate me so much anymore.
Janet was drinking coffee at the snack bar and reading the paper; a plate sat in front of her smeared with the evidence that it bore something greasy earlier. “Afternoon, cupcake. Want some breakfast?”
Sam made a sound that defied description soon colored by a shade of green not contained in the 64-color crayola collection, gagged, and ran out of the room.
“Guess some people can’t hold their liquor.” Janet remarked to herself before sipping the strong brew through a dastardly grin- one that grew broader with the barks and groans that penetrated muffled through the walls. Janet made a mental note of the thin insulation for future reference.
The next time Sam awakened, she was curled up on the couch. Now, this was familiar. How many nights did she spend here on Janet’s couch, way too late to travel home under the influence of one too many glasses of wine? One had to be responsible. A twinge that ached like bad sunburn settled behind her collarbone. Her Janet. Gone. She hurriedly wiped the tears from her eyes as she heard the new Janet in the kitchen, puttering around. Sam leaned against the doorframe and took a moment to take in the familiar domestic scene before her. The petite woman was mixing a batter by hand with Cassie on a stool next to her. The metronomic view caught her eye like a hypnotist's watch.
“Ah, she lives. I told you, I haven’t been wrong yet. My powers of diagnosis astound.”
Cassie giggled, “You’re funny. Just like Mom.” The young woman morphed into a small child before them becoming very quiet and still, eyes downcast. Janet immediately hugged her tightly and rocked to and fro for minutes. “I know you miss her,” she whispered through loose strands of hair at her temple and laced them with a brush of her lips. “I miss people too. Sometimes I cry. Don’t tell anyone.” Then she released Cassie and spoke in her normal tone. “So make a mold and put it on this sheet. Farther apart, honey, 10 minutes at 375 convect and viola, we’ll have cookies. That is, if Sam here is finished losing hers.”
Encore with the deja vu. Sam made a face at the both of them. She cooks and plants. She looked at freshly potted flowers on the sill. Great with Cassie; she looks so happy. But she’s not her. This hasn’t happened but something very close to it has.
“Well, I’d better get going to my place and get cleaned up. I feel like something died in my mouth.” God, please don’t touch that one.
“Cassie, take the cookies out when the timer goes off while I ferry Sam over to her house, apartment, where do you live?”
Cassie’s face brightened basking in the comfort of having both her surrogates in her space, even for a moment. “Is it Ok if Sarah comes over later?”
“If it is OK with her Mom and not before I’m back.”
The car engine rumbled as Janet negotiated the snake-like curves at Sam’s direction. Frankly relieved that they did not have to fill the space with words that required careful consideration, Sam fought to keep the acid from ascending her throat. As she exited the car, Sam leaned in the open window, smiled a thankyou, and suppressed a lame attempt at small talk.
“Yeah, I’ll see you back at the Ranch. Get some rest, Carter, or I’ll ground you tomorrow. And you know that means: I’ll have to tell Dad why.” The smile was sympathetic and warm, deeply so. So much like her doppelganger that Sam had to turn suddenly and walk quickly to her door so that her glistening eyes would not betray her. She had to stop transferring her feelings onto a woman that was just beginning to tolerate her presence.
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