prowler_pilot | Fanfic!!!!

Just something I came up with while listening to my native flutes cd. Turned out a little different than planned…it was supposed to be about Sam…but my Muse *loves* thoughtful!Jack, so…
I know, I shouldn’t have watched 100 days (all of it) for the first time while working on it…

Title: Dream Catcher
Rating: Age friendly (10+)
Pairing: Sam / other, references to Jack/Laira
Timeline: late S3, after ‘shades of grey’ but before ‘Nemesis’.

They were celebrating Fall Equinox. Strange enough, because it was still early spring on Earth, and everything around him still spoke of summer.

Woods and fields looked a very dark green under the dim light the two larger moons cast over the fertile plane.
The night air was hot and humid and made his clothes stick uncomfortably to his skin at his every movement.

Mosquitoes and unknown bugs infested the pitch black sky, chirping cricket-like in one hypnotic, incessant harmony.

There was food and drinks and a big fire with people dancing around it to a slow, timeless melody that made the hair on the back of his neck stand.

There were drummers, a few wood flute players and others with a jingly thing that made a nice sound, and the women chanted the same words over and over, like a mantra. He could hear a few men humming the tune, too.

Among the other people, Sam and the young native circled each other slowly, eyes locked, the fingers of their outstretched hands touching lightly.
He was wearing that long ceremony coat over his simple shirt and fringed pants.

It looked like suède, buffalo probably.

Yellow, with rich, multi-colored embroidery.

Exotic.

Very native American-like.

Daniel had said they were probably descendants of the Anasazi. As if that made any difference in his head. They were Indians.
With totems, and paint horses, tepees and tomahawks.
Really cool in his opinion. Until one of them succeeded in seducing his second-in-command, that was.

They didn’t wear the telltale head coverings with feathers of exotic birds whose name he couldn’t even pronounce. There were no birds on this planet. So they had simple leather bands adorning their foreheads, some with fringes, or small pendants.

Carter was wearing one of those, too. That and a series of other native knick-knacks around her neck, wrists and ankles.
An odd mix with the military-issued black tank top and BDUs, if you asked him, but the leader had said they helped converge their vibes and prayers to the holy spirits, and who was he to say otherwise?

So now he was wearing necklaces and bracelets as well.
She had rolled the legs of her camouflage pants up to her mid-calves, and she was barefoot, like the rest of the tribe. He sighed as they switched direction and their movements started to become more elaborate.

An elderly man sitting on the tree stump beside his offered him a calumet and some food he didn’t refuse. They still had a few hours to go before heading back to the stargate and the spicy scent of the roasted buffalo tickled his nostrils temptingly.
Just that.
No booze and no cakes, he was over that.
And he wasn’t going to take Carter away from under the spotlight.

Several eyes were on her and Ahtaneh, that was the guy’s name, as they danced by the fire. They had stopped moving in circles and Sam’s hands were now moving in patterns above her head in time with the gentle swaying of her hips.

He was closer to her now, his hands resting lightly at her waist, guiding her movements, his eyes focused on her face, just a couple of inches under his. Wandering every now and then down to where her top hugged her breasts and lower, trying to make out the shape of her legs underneath her baggy pants.

The music reached her ears and penetrated deep into her, touching her very soul, urging her on and closer to Ahtaneh.
He was the leader’s nephew and the shaman’s apprentice, and he had followed her in her explorations and told her everything about the local plants and soil when they were not working on the treaty.

And he was very eager to know about Earth costumes and about the stars.

Because they were their ancestors’ home.

And hers.

She hadn’t meant for it to get out of hand.

To become so attracted to him.

Sam let him curl his arms around her hips and mimicked his gesture, bringing their chests and crotches together. The new intimate contact felt good and she sighed, resting her head on Ahtaneh’s shoulder.

“Na-ta deh?” He asked her in a whisper, and crooked his head to nuzzle the side of her neck.
Her brain elaborated quickly the foreign words that had come to be so familiar to her and struggled to formulate an adequate response.

“Meh, deh ne-yo. I’m ok.” That seemed to satisfy him and Sam felt him relax against her. She smiled, and in that moment her eyes caught those of her commanding officer.

He offered her a barely there smile through a full mouth and lowered his gaze to his plate. His eyes weren’t smiling.
He felt a sudden pang of loss and thought longingly of Laira.

He sighed, stealing a last glance at the dancing couple, and proceeded to scan the field for his missing team-mates.
Daniel was the easiest to spot, tangled to a young local woman on the dance floor, eyes saucer-wide and a goofy expression on his face as the girl clung on to him like a koala. He still didn’t get how he managed to have all the girls after him.

He shook his head and followed the silvery sound of children’s laughter to where Teal’c was entertaining a bunch of kids with jokes and tales.
The young natives didn’t look frightened by the man’s massive appearance and crawled all over him, hugging his bulky arms and exploding into fits of giggles.
At least they looked like they were having fun, everyone fitting perfectly in the picture.

He looked around himself and saw only crooked noses, silver hair and wrinkled faces.

Was that his place now?

Basking in bittersweet memories while watching younger people enjoy what was now irremediably out of his grasp?

It wasn’t how he usually felt, but after his return from Edora and his trip with the NID he didn’t know where he stood with his team anymore. Especially with her.

The rhythm picked up and the delicate flute sounds left place to a fast, heavy drumming beat.
Sam and Ahtaneh parted, their hands still linked as they turned away from the fire and the ceremony, walking among the tepees scattered all over the field.

He watched them through the crowd as their forms disappeared behind the shaman’s tent.

The horses lifted their heads from the appetizing grass, nostrils sniffing the air and ears prickling, and Jack immediately spotted the couple again, riding at a leisurely pace on the path that lead up the hill.

Memories of domestic life on a foreign world flooded his mind once again and his heart filled with a sweet ache.

Even with the whole no toilet-no hockey-no Simpsons thing, he had felt better there than he had in a long time.
Relaxed, serene, not too many worries.
Or ghosts of the past. Or of the present, for that matter.

Happiness and fulfilment were another issue, one he had constantly forced himself not to dwell too much on.
And one he was still avoiding, even now.

He rose from the stump he was sitting on and joined Teal’c and Daniel with the children, who were playing a local card game. He had gotten pretty good at it, and he didn’t want to waste the last chance of beating the crap out of him at something that didn’t involve physical training.

On the hill, silhouetted against the surface of the moons, two rider-less horses grazed the last flowers, manes and tails waving gently to the late summer wind.

Should really head to bed...if my parents catch me still up...