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How Many Things Can Go Wrong On A Second Date?

Title: How Many Things Can Go Wrong On A Second Date?
Author: rolleson
Fandom: Stargate the_library_au
Rating: PG-13
Character/Pairing: Sam/Jack
Spoilers: None (points for the Solitudes reference)
Warnings: Kissing and a swearword.
Summery: Jack makes it up to Sam.
Notes: This is pretty much what million_moments told me to write. So her fic, my words. Might be a bit cliché. Sequel to How To Screw Up Your First Date



She opened the door wrapped in a dressing gown and he had to take a moment to stop and think before speaking.

“Always answer the door in your dressing gown?” He asked with a smirk. She folded her arms.

“I’m in the reserves remember? I can look after myself.” He just grinned at her. “What are you doing here Jack?”

“I’m making it up to you.” She raised an eyebrow, her arms tightening around her. He grinned. “On the second date? Everyone at school would call me a slut.” She laughed at that, and unfolded her arms.”

“So what were you thinking?”

“Picnic, meteor shower?” He said, “I’ve put the telescope in the back, brought blankets, wine, chocolate cake.”

“Chocolate cake?” He nodded, “I’m not even dressed.”

“Then get dressed.” He said, taking hold of her arms and turning her around. “I’ll wait here.” She immediately turned back to face him and thought about it for a moment.

“Come in and sit down. I’ll be five minutes.”

“Excellent!” He smiled and she led him into her living room before disappearing again.

Five minutes turned into ten and she appeared in the door way of her lounge in jeans and a tight sweater, a little make up applied and her hair teased to perfection.

Which he thought was a shame because the bed hair was hot.

“Ready?” He asked standing up. She smiled and he took that as a yes.

In the truck he told her more about where they were going and what they would be seeing. He was driving them out of town, to the woods on the outskirts of the county. Sam was familiar with them, she’d done enough training exercises in there and knew the clearing they were going to. He’d packed a small picnic, sparkling white wine, a tarp and some blankets. She had to ask if he’d been in the scouts. He never answered. They were going to watch a rarely occurring meteor shower and he denied that it was romantic, but admitted it had to be something extra special to get back into her good books.

“You were never in my bad books Jack.” She said, once they were near the clearing, unloading the truck. “I got over it.”

“I screwed up.” He stated.

“You didn’t need to go to all this trouble.” She was feeling a little guilty. Like she had pushed him into a romantic gesture he wouldn’t normally make.

“No trouble Sam.” He lifted his telescope out of the truck, “I had every intention of watching this shower, being with you just makes it all the better. Here you take this, I’ll take these.” He handed her the tarp and blankets, keeping the food and telescope for himself.

“Lead on Reserve.”

“Cute.” She turned to stick her tongue out at him, and as she did so, missed the root sticking out from the ground. She twisted, the blankets and tarp flying into the air, and fell to the floor, her foot still under the root, her leg at an unnatural angle.

“Ah!” She hissed and Jack dropped the food without a thought, the telescope with a little more care, and ran over to her.

“Shit,” he dropped to his knees beside her and slowly twisted her leg straight, grimacing as she hissed in pain. “Okay?” She nodded, “we’d better get you home.”

“No.” She grabbed his arm. “I’m fine.”

“Sam, you’ve broken out into a sweat.”

“It was just the initial pain, I’m okay now.” He raised an eyebrow at her and she wondered briefly if she was going to be able to put up with it for the rest of their lives.

“What are you thinking?” He asked.

“Shaving your eyebrow,” The eyebrows dipped in confusion.

“Sorry, the pain, you know, the clearing isn’t far, just help me there and then bring the things.”

“Okay.” He’d rather take her home, bandage her up and then, whatever, but he wasn’t going to argue with her. He wasn’t sure how volatile she could be.

He wrapped an arm around her, remembering to put his hand under her breast and not on her breast (always important when lifting up women he found) and helped her to her feet. She hissed and swore when she tried to put some weight on her foot.

“You sure it’s not broken?”

“Ever had a broken bone Jack?”

“Nine, if you count skull fractures.”

“Well,” she paused, surprised, “then you know that you just know if a bone is broken or not.”

“I do, so let’s get moving.” He grinned and they started to stumble through the sparse woods, seeing by moonlight.

When they reached the edge of the clearing he settled her down against a tree and once she was reasonably comfortable he ran back for the tarp and blankets, making a second trip for the picnic and telescope. She watched as he set everything up for them, for her. She couldn’t help but smile despite the throbbing in her ankle. That’s why she didn’t want to leave. Any thoughts she had about guilt-tripping him into this were fading. She loved the attention, no one had really made her feel this special in a long while and no one had done anything like this. For her.

He helped her up again and together they settled down onto the blankets.

“Comfortable?” He asked.

“Yes thank you.” she smiled.

“Ankle hurting?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” She said, with a bump in her voice that made him think different.

“Wine?” He asked.

“Please.” He opened up his basket, pulled two glasses and a bottle of sparkling white wine. “Cake?”

“I have cheese and biscuits first. Then cake.” He told her, grinning. “Figured you wouldn’t be too hungry at this time out of night.”

“I wouldn’t have eaten dinner if I’d known.”

“Couldn’t spoil the surprise.” She smiled, she wanted to kiss him but instead pulled the biscuit towards her to take a look inside. Beside her Jack began to open the wine and tried to make it look easy to open, unwittingly shaking it further as he did so. When he finally pulled the cork free the wine fizzled up and out of the bottle, all over Sam and himself.

He cried out, she almost squealed as they both tried to get away from the spray.

“I’m so sorry.” Jack said. He put the wine down on some straight ground and pulled at his wet shirt, inspecting her. “Shit.”

“It’s okay Jack.” She pulled the wet sweater off and looked at it, “it wasn’t your fault.”

“I have some napkins.” He said, he pulled a wad of white from the basket and handed half to her.

“That’s great.” She began to pat down her chest, wearing a light blue vest top, and he stared at her, watching the dabbing motion of her hand on her chest, watching a rhythm that wasn’t really there.

“Aren’t you wet Jack?” She asked, trying not to laugh at him.

“Huh, oh yeah.” He took off his jacket and pulled his sweater off. He wasn’t as wet as Sam, his white t-shirt still dry. “This isn’t going as I planned.”

“No, probably not.” She smiled, then shivered, the movement going all the way down to her ankle and causing her a little pain. Jack immediately jumped into action and grabbed another blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders.

“Thank you.” She smiled and pulled it tighter around her. “Did any of the wine survive?”

“Yes, some.” He poured them a glass each and she took a sip. He put his aside and kneeled (his knees were not happy about that) to look through the telescope he’d set up before him. The meteor shower was easily seen, and beautiful enough, with the naked eye, but he knew Sam would appreciate a closer look.

“When does it start?” She asked.

“It’s not exact but in twenty minutes or so.” She nodded.

“Do we have to wait for the shower to start before we eat the cake?” He laughed.

“And people think I’m cake obsessed.” She smiled. “At least have some of the cheeses too.”

“Sounds like a deal.

Over the next twenty minutes they ate cheese, biscuits and cake, chatting a little but mostly sitting in silence so they could concentrate on the food, and drink what wine hadn’t soaked Sam’s sweater.

“I’m still cold.” Sam said, huddling into her blanket a little more, sounding more vulnerable than she would’ve liked. Jack didn’t reply, he cleared away the paper plates and plastic forks and moved to sit next to her. He pulled the blanket away and she let him, then he pulled her towards him, wrapping an arm around her and wrapping the blanket around them both.

“Better?”

“Much.” She breathed the word out, settling into his body and revelling in his warmth.

“It’s starting,” he breathed too, his hand gripping her arm to hold him to her. He turned to Sam to find her looking at him and she blushed, and he figured that despite the Reserves and the motorbike she might be as sappy as he was.

Occasionally.

She looked up and watched the meteors shoot across the sky and forgot about her damp sweater, sticky chest and throbbing ankle.

In the end they didn’t use the telescope. They watched the entire meteor shower in each others arms, huddled together underneath the blanket, and were both sleepy when Jack realised there was nothing more to see in the sky and his watch was screaming that it was past late, and now early.

“Come on Sam,” he whispered, “it’s time to go home.” He stood and helped her to her feet, noting she wasn’t leaning as heavily on him as before. Which was a shame. “How’s your ankle?”

“Better.”

They were silent going back to his truck, they were both reluctant to go but both had to be up for work the next day. Jack had the feeling that, if he asked her back to his, she’d agree, but he didn’t want to rush anything. He’d done that before, he couldn’t go through another Kerry debacle again.

Neither could Charlie.

So he helped her into the truck and ran back to collect up their things, trying and failing to make one trip, dropping his telescope half way back. Frustrated he had to make another half a trip before everything was packed safety into his truck. Sam was a little more awake when he climbed into the drivers seat beside her, smiling brightly at him.

“Okay?” He asked.

“Yes.” He smiled back and turned the keys. The engine spluttered instead of starting, and Jack groan, trying to engine again. When it died he slammed his hands against the steering wheel.

“Dammit.” Sam started to laugh next to him and he watched her become hysterical and double over. He worried for a moment that she might pass out because she was laughing so hard she wasn’t breathing but soon started to cough as her lungs screamed for air. She had tears streaming down her face and as she calmed down, still coughed a little. He smiled at her with amused confusion.

“Wanna tell me what’s so funny?”

“I was just laughing at how many things have gone wrong tonight.” She coughed out.

“I’m glad you think it’s so funny. I’m supposed to be making it up to you.”

“And you have done, I’ve had a great time.”

“Really?” She leant over and kissed him on the lips for long moment, soft and sweet and he had to assume she meant to say yes but had had other ideas. She pulled away and smiled, blushing again.

“I’d better call Triple A.”

“Let me take a look at it.” She said, opening the passenger side door.

Holding Sam up as she stood on one leg and leant over the engine of the car, Jack made sure his head was higher than hers. So if the hood fell, it would hit him and not her. Not that he told her this, just in case it induced more hysterical laughing.

He held her tightly again, when she started fiddling with his fan belt, and almost fell when she pushed back against him, all finished.

“That might get us home.” She told him, pressed up against his chest, his arms still holding her tight to him.

“That’ll do.” He said, he looked at her, and kissed her again, a little longer this time, and harder, pushing her back against his truck. He pulled away when he realised he might be getting carried away with the whole kissing thing. She was smiling though, and breathless. “Thanks.”

“Let’s see if we get home first.” She said, assuming he was talking about the truck and not the kiss.

Luck was finally on their side though, and he was able to drop Sam home and get home himself without his truck dying again. When he tried it the next morning he found it was dead. Sam had been spot on saying it would get them home, he wasn’t going any further in it.

But that didn’t matter, he walked to work anyway.

A couple of days later, Sam came home to find a fake oversized four leaf clover stuffed into her post box, her sweater clean and folded and a note, from him, promising them more luck next time.

Sam was just happy there would be a next time.
Tags: fic, sam/jack, stargate, the library
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