#HERE COMES SARCASTIC HARDASS ALLY

[alisonwintcrs-blog]

( ✉ → sms ) i used your pics to catfish someone, and since they bought me a laptop… you have a date with them tomorrow.

( ✉ → delilah ): i think i’d rather preform my own root canal, thanks.

[starrybouquet]

One Word Writing Prompts - 47 for sam x jack, pls

Thank you so much for asking @captain-sassy-socks and sorry this took so long! 47 is “stars” (the prompt list is here if anyone else wants to send me prompts :D)

Stars

Sam stood on the balcony and looked at the stars. Once one of the few constants in her life, now it was almost strange for her to look up and see the same sky night after night. A good kind of strange, the kind that brings comfort and nostalgia, but strange all the same. The thought that everyday life on Earth was almost more foreign to her than the alien worlds she traveled to through the Stargate made her smirk inwardly. It was a mind-bending kind of irony.

It was December 23rd, and SG-1 were home for the holidays this year. Of course, Mark’s family was visiting his wife’s parents--just her luck, the one time she could actually visit and they weren’t going to be home. But Cassie had begged her and the rest of SG-1 to come over for Christmas, and Janet was making Christmas dinner, and if she was being honest with herself, Sam actually preferred spending Christmas with the guys, having snowball fights and watching movies, than arguing with Mark over her job once again.

So Sam was looking forward to Christmas. But before she could get there, she had to survive tonight.

General Hammond had ordered SG-1 to the SGC holiday gala being held at the Air Force Academy, which was unfortunately more about politicking than actual celebration. Sam understood the General’s motives--the SGC needed all the allies it could get in Washington, and SG-1 was the flagship team, after all. It was only expected that they’d put in an appearance. And so Sam had spent the last few hours talking to various Generals about nothing in particular (because she couldn’t actually mention the Stargate) like the good officer she was.

But when the swirling masses of blue got to be too much, when she’d heard one too many questions about her father’s miraculous recovery from cancer and glanced one too many officers thumb their noses at Deep Space Radar Telemetry, she’d escaped out here, to the balcony, which nobody had yet discovered.

Okay, so she’d picked the lock. She didn’t think anyone would mind.

So now she was leaning against the railing, jacket unbuttoned, stargazing, waiting for this evening to end. It was better than being inside, but it was cold--it was December, after all--and stargazing in dress blues without a coat just wasn’t the same as being able to stretch out on a blanket on the ground.

Not to mention that stargazing by herself felt lonely now. Sometime in the past year, her stargazing with Colonel O’Neill had become a thing.

Not on Earth, at their homes--no, nothing like that, nothing that was a breach of regulations. Just offworld, on quiet planets, when one of them couldn’t sleep. They’d slip out of the tent or cottage or whatever accommodations they had on the planet to join the other on watch, and together, they’d lie back and look at the alien stars.

It was during those times that Sam felt herself relax completely, put all the worries and preoccupations from her mind and just focus on the wonder she’d felt when she’d first stepped through the Stargate. To be able to see alien skies, so similar and yet so different from Earth’s--that was something beyond anything she’d ever dreamed of doing as an astronaut. It was something worth fighting for.

Sam’s thoughts were interrupted by the shuffle of the sliding door behind her. Startled, she leapt to the side so that she was out of sight and watched the figure outlined behind the ivory curtains of the ballroom fiddle with the lock she’d compromised.

She was surprised but not shocked when Jack O’Neill stepped onto the balcony, quietly closing the door behind him.

“Carter,” he said, turning unerringly toward her.

“Sir,” she replied, slightly embarrassed to be caught hiding, as she stepped out of the shadows and resumed her spot along the rail.

The Colonel leaned next to her. “Nice job on the door.” One side of his mouth tugged up in the boyish smirk that always made her feel slightly giddy.

“Crowds aren’t really my thing, sir.”

He nodded, silvering hair glinting in the dim light. “I know. Just came here to tell you that people are mostly gone. Here.” The Colonel held out a dark bundle to her. 

“This is my coat,” she said in surprise, looking up at him as she pulled it on, folding her discarded dress jacket on her arm neatly.

“Oh, thank God. I was worried I might have gotten Teal’c by accident,” he said sarcastically. “What did you think it was, Carter?”

She smiled, recognizing a classic O’Neill attempt at dismissing gratitude when she saw it. “Thank you, sir.”

“So, whatcha doing? I don’t see a laptop.” The Colonel looked around, as if it was hiding under the eaves of the building.

Sam fidgeted with the buttons of her coat, suddenly shy. “Uh, stargazing.”

Colonel O’Neill nodded and looked up at the sky just as she’d done a few minutes ago. He sighed, shoulders relaxing, and Sam turned to look at his profile.

He cut a handsome figure in his dress blues. His broad shoulders and trim waist were emphasized in his dress blues and outlined by the light filtering through the windows--unmistakably the body of a warrior, and yet the face he turned up to the stars was wistful, yearning. Sam had spent far too much time watching Jack stargaze, she knew, but she couldn’t help it. When he looked at the stars, it didn’t matter where he was, in an alien village or at an Air Force party. The jaded soldier and hardass Colonel faded away, leaving just Jack, and she loved that look on his face, the look of wonder that he hid away from the rest of the world.

He turned, sensing her gaze. “What?”

She smiled, too tired to give the non-answer she usually would’ve gone for. “You love the stars as much as I do, don’t you?”

The veil was gone from his eyes as he gave her a bashful grin. “Yeah. I guess I do.” Jack looked at her for a long moment. That same tender, longing look came into his eyes again, and Sam’s heart melted as she realized that this time, it was directed at her.

“C’mere,” Jack said gruffly, and pulled her into his side, coat and all.

Sam couldn’t feel much of him through his thick dress blues and her winter coat, but she leaned into him all the same.

“Merry Christmas Eve Eve, Sam,” he whispered.

“Merry Christmas Eve Eve, Jack.”

[falloutdialogue]

Raider Conversations

If you’re close enough to hear raiders talk and manage to keep yourself hidden, sometimes you’ll catch a story.

“Trial by Fire”

Raider 1: Couple years back, before I met Clutch, me and a couple friends found a young kid on the north side of the Charles. He wasn't that young, probably around eighteen or so. Anyway, after hanging out with him a while, it started to get dark, so I built a fire. I kid you not, as soon as I lit the first match, the kid screams, "What are you doing?!" and knocks the match out of my hand.

Raider 2: He knocked the match out of your hand? Why'd he do that?

Raider 1: Shh, I'm telling a story. So yeah, he knocks the match out of my hand. I was so surprised that I swung and broke his nose. He said he was sorry and -- get this -- he said he was afraid of fire.

Raider 2: Hah! He was afraid of fire?

Raider 1: I just told you he was afraid of fire. You keep interrupting me, it's irritating. As soon as he told me that, I thought of something. I quickly apologized for hitting him and told him it's nothing to be ashamed of. That night, me and the others got this kid so drunk so fast, he passed out within an hour. We then dragged him to the banks of the Charles. We also dragged six or seven mattresses and tied them in a circle with one in the middle.

Raider 2: Mattresses? What did you need the mattresses for?

Raider 1: Really? Did you seriously just ask me that question? It's a goddamn story. All you have to do is listen. So yeah, we tied all these mattresses together, and then we placed one mattress in the middle and put the kid on it. We doused all the mattresses with gas except his and lit them on fire and pushed them down into the water. We followed the burning mattresses down the river laughing our asses off waiting for the kid to wake up. After five minutes we realized the kid wasn't going to wake up, so we all started throwing rocks at him. After a couple of hits, the kid wakes up. At this point, the flames were huge! Imagine what it must have been like for him, waking up, not knowing where he was, and all he sees is fire. The kid tries to stand up, but can't get his footing on the soggy mattress. At this point, I am laughing so hard I fall down.

Raider 2: That is crazy! I'll bet he overcame his fear of fire. Hah! "Trial By Fire."

Raider 1: Nah, he never did. Turns out the kid couldn't swim. Anyway, that's that.  

Walden Pond

Raider 1: And that's why the call it ""being Thoreau."""

Raider 2: Oh... And this guy invented trance...transyl...?

Raider 1: Trainsdentalism, moron. You sound like an idiot.

Raider 2: How the hell you know all this?

Raider 1: I read a book that one time. When we ran out of Grognaks.

Raider 2: I wish I could read...

False Alarm

Raider 1: What do you think?

Raider 2: I don't know. Jumping at shadows. 

Raider 1: Yeah, you're probably right. Gotta cut down on the jet, I guess.

Raider 2: [Joking] Now don't start talking crazy. 

Raider 1: Ha ha ha!

Raider 2: Ha ha ha ha!

 Leaving the Gang

Raider 1:

And what? You're just gonna leave us to twist in the wind?

You're seriously gonna jump ship? Join another crew?

For real? You're gonna switch teams?

[Sarcastic] So, you're gonna leave us, huh? Take your talents elsewhere?

You sure about this? Leaving us for another crew?

Raider 2:

Why not? I like boats. And lots of fresh ocean air. But it's more than that. It's, like... a community. You know?

Raider 1:

Better you than me...

Yeah, well good luck with that.

Well, just don't get yourself killed.

Whatever, man.

Stupid idea, man. Stupid idea...

Raider 2:

So I think I just gotta pull the trigger.

Raider 1:

Libertalia?

East Boston Prep?

You still wanna go race robots at Easy City? Instead of this?

What? Takin' up at Revere Beach?

D.B. Tech? Still?

Hardware Town? Really?

What? Takin' up at Shamrock Taphouse?

Seriously? Back Street Apparel?

[A little nervous] Come on. Saugus? The Forged are a hard crew. You seriously think you can hack it?

[A little nervous] Dunwich Borers? Heard some crazy things about that place. You really sure you wanna do this?

Malden Center?

What? About that place up north? Zimonja?

[You think Jared is a lousy name for a cutthroat killer] Corvega? Still? You really gonna work for a guy named Jared?

[concerned] College Square? Ain't that place Feral heaven these days? That really the sorta place you wanna take up?

Still thinking about Concord, huh?

What? Movin' to Thicket Excavations?

You ain't still talkin' about that satellite station, are ya?

We still discussin' this? You really gonna go live under a gift shop at Walden?

What? About Scutter and those nut jobs in Hyde Park?

Andrew Station? Chancer's gang?

Beantown Brewery? Really?

You're really gonna take up at the Bureau?

Taking up at the stockpile?

Shinjin's gang?

Are we really talking about this again? You seriously think you could make it in the Combat Zone?

On what? Joinin' the... hey. You hear something?

Lost Enemy

Raider 1:

That's what I'm worried about.

I don't like it.

Raider 2:

Hey, let's go eat. I'm starving.

 Come on. It's over. They musta run off. You can relax.

Raider 1: 

You can eat when I'm damn sure we're not about to get jumped.

I'll fuckin' relax when I'm ready to fuckin' relax. Got it?

Raider 2:

Ah, jesus, you always were a fuckin' hardass.

 I got it, I got it. Jesus. Why are you always in such a bad mood?

Raider 1: 

 That's why I'm still alive. And since I've got to rely on your sorry ass to watch my back, that's why I'm trying to keep you alive, too.

You're still alive, aintcha? You should be thanking me instead of bitching all the time. 

That's why I'm still alive. And since I've got to rely on your sorry ass to watch my back, that's why I'm trying to keep you alive, too.

Now shut up and get back to your patrol.

Enough yapping already. Somebody could be sneaking up on us right now.

Raider 2: 

Don't get your panties in a twist. I'm going.

Noticing Corpse

Raider 1:

Get over here! Quick! 

Raider 2: 

What is it?

Oh, shit.

Godammit.

Shit.

This is really bad.

Fuck.

What do we do?

Raider 1: 

What do you think, dumbass? 

We go kill whoever did this. Now get moving!

{shouted to nearby allies} Everybody up! We got trouble!

Suspicious

Raider 1:

Seen anything? 

Seems quiet. You?

Think they're still out there?

Raider 2:

Nope. All quiet. I think it's over.

No. I'm about ready to pack it in.

This is probably a waste of time.

Raider 1:

Just keep your eyes open.

Not yet. Back of my neck is still itchin'.

Dumbass. Be glad you've got me around to watch your back.

Suspicious (part 2)

Raider 1:

Got anything?

What do you see?

Raider 2:

Nothing yet.

Same as always.

Whole lotta nothing.

Raider 1:

Goddammit. I'm getting tired of this shit.

I don't think there's anything out there.

I'm ready to call it. My feet are killing me.

Raider 2:

I'm tired of listening to your whining.

Don't you ever shut up?

I don't give a flying fuck what you think.

Suspicious Shooting

Raider 1: 

... the fuck?

... what was that?

... over there!

Raider 2:

What the hell are you shooting at?

Did you hit anything?

There's nothing there, asshole.

Stop wasting ammo!

Raider 1:

Shit. Maybe I'm just getting jumpy.

Hmm. Guess it was nothing.

Don't see anything now...

Goddammit. I gotta stop wasting ammo.

(Or)

Shut up and keep your eyes open.

I thought I saw something.