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My Overgrown Jackrabbit of a Comment Fic

This is a response to mrspollifax 's amusing fic A Good Retreat, which can be found here:http://mrspollifax.livejournal.com/35770.html#cutid1
It got a little overgrown, and had to be put here instead.  Not for Sam/Jack-ophobes.
Jack O'Neill can only be pushed so far... 


Newton's Third Law (Applied)


Jack O'Neill had known for years before they even contemplated tying the knot that his wife, his former subordinate, the love of his life was pure evil. He'd found out the very first time he'd laid eyes on him when she'd offered to arm wrestle him. She'd known just what effect that had had on him, and she'd sported a smile that'd said so. Jack had lost that round soundly, matching her lame remark about genitals with a truly cringe-worthy assertion that he liked women but had a problem with scientists. Jack didn't like to lose, so he felt entirely justified in pushing her through the event horizon the following day.


On the other hand, even though, and even - perhaps - because she was evil, Jack truly loved his wife. He loved her so much that he nearly ended up pushing her into a marriage with another man because he thought it was what she wanted, and he wanted to make her happy. So pretty generally, when it came to the beautiful fair-haired schemer that was his wife, with her wide innocent blue eyes and her heart-melting smile, he tamped down his nasty competitive streak, and tried to go willingly to the slaughter. Things that would have earned Daniel swift and brutal retaliation, Sam could get away with, and she knew it. Because Jack loved her, and wanted her to be happy, and because she was very good at compensating him in ways - Sex! Lots of sex! Great sex! - that would be disturbing and upsetting if Daniel tried them. Jack shuddered at the image of Daniel making advances on him. Eewww!


Lately, though, things had gotten a little out of hand. It was one thing to have her laughing at him. He was more than willing to play the buffoon if he could get those blue eyes to dance with mirth, or her lips to flash him one of those smiles. Very aphrodisiac-al, those smiles. Since Carter was offworld, and Jack was at leisure, he allowed himself a few moments to remember that smile, and the wonderful way it sent warmth pulsing through his body, starting at his chest, shooting to his cheeks, and coming to rest there. It was still such a wonderful, delightful luxury to think the thought, trigger the memory, and not have to cut it off aborning, because it was no longer forbidden. She was his wife. He was allowed, nay encouraged, to think of her that way. But he digressed. She was laughing at him, and that he didn't mind. Hell, he didn't even mind when she brought the team into it, although it was a little awkward when Mitchell began to get smirky, and had to be put in his place. The team were family, even if Mitchell and Vala were family-by-marriage. But lately she'd been making a fool of him in front of strangers and enlisted men, and that was where he drew the line. Enough was enough.


Jack had let her drive him home - And when, exactly, had he surrendered that bit of his manhood? Probably when he'd surrendered to the inevitable and agreed to allow them to assign him a driver while he was at the Pentagon. - and let her let him have his way with him...at least that's the way he thought it went... and then began contemplating ways and means of shifting the balance of power a little bit back closer to where it used to be. This was a woman who blew up suns and commanded not only men but scientists in the field, and did it well, so his plan of attack needed to be good. He still felt incredibly privileged and lucky that this magnificent woman, with her heavenly body to beat Uma Thurman and a brain even better than Einstein's - no absent minded professor schtick for her - would find something to love in plain old Jack O'Neill, aging Minnesota flyboy and general (retired). He liked it when she was happy with him. The Plan had to take that into account. He had spent his entire professional life making plans, and he'd gotten rather good at it, too. No pressure this time. He was, after all, retired - mostly - and he had time on his side. No rush. Plenty of time to come up with plans A, B, C, D, E, and beyond. He was up around M when Daniel called up and dropped a new plan in his lap. This one was good! Jack had a new Plan A, and Carter had better brush up on Newton's Third Law. That was the one about the equal and opposite reaction, wasn't it? Jack generally had less trouble remembering those by number than the Commandments.


"You’re lucky you're retired, you know."




"Don't you even want to know why?"


"I know why. My life, Daniel."




"Okay, suppose you tell me, then."


"We're going back to -983."




"That's the one with the women."


Tones of manfully effortful patience: "Many planets have women, Daniel. If they have people at all."


"The controlling women. You know, the one where they will only negotiate with a high-ranking woman, and the men all wear nothing but--"


"Those Speedo-size diaper thingies?"


"That's the one."


"I'm a lucky bastard. A lucky retired bastard."


"Sam's going with us on this one, you know."




"Jack, did you hear me? Sam's coming on the mission."


"Yeah, I heard you. When? How long?"


"Tomorrow at nine. Five days. First she and Hailey have to hammer out the final details, then there is the signing, and the reception, and the-- Jack are you still there? Jack? Hello? Attention span of a flea!" [Click!]


Five days. Five whole days of being surrounded by nearly naked men, served by slender nearly naked men, carried around in litters by muscular nearly naked men, and being offered first pick of the nearly naked men, as a guest's prerogative. Quite frankly Jack didn't see why the SGC was suddenly willing to trade with such a nasty group of people. They must have turned out to have something really great, but Jack was not going to worry about that now. He was retired. He just hoped that part of the treaty involved some degree of emancipation for those poor bastards, and if they were sending a team with Carter and Daniel and Teal'c on it, not to mention Mitchell and Haley, chances were pretty damn good. Still, he wouldn't put it past Vala to barter for one of the poor dears, if only just to wind up Daniel. She'd free him once they were through the gate. Wouldn't she?


The important point was this: Jack trusted his wife. He thought she was nuts to have sworn her life to him, but she had, and that meant that Carter would spend five days in Beefcake Heaven, and by the time she got home, she'd be good and hot and bothered...unless... Jack counted. Nope not quite time for that yet, and Carter was always more...passionate...in the week before anyway, unless Jack did something stupid and pissed her off. Equal and opposite reaction. Carter'd made fun of him in public; he'd demonstrate his power in the private sphere.   By the end she'd know the limits of her power.


It was nearing dinner time on Saturday when Sam let herself into the house. Jack hadn't been at the Mountain to welcome her home, but then he often didn't, not liking to throw his generalship (retired as it was) around to gain access when it wasn't a matter of importance. She'd had a pang of disappointment, but she'd understood. Still, she'd submitted for her medical with uncharacteristic impatience, declined to hit the showers, which was fine, since the folks back at the planet were so big on public bathing anyway - and boy, it was hard to see the water through the cabana boys! - and hurried home. She loved her husband for his humor, for his bravery, for his strength, for his boyish charm, for his genuinely humble soul that he hid so well, and right now she was especially prepared to love him for his body, graying hair, new love handles, tricky knee and all. Jack was a good lover, a generous lover, a lover who never, ever, said no. She intended to take full and free advantage of that - and him - as soon as possible.


She kind of expected him to meet her at the door. The sound of her Indian was unmistakable. And loud. Surely he'd heard her arrival. But Sam had to let herself in, and even then, Jack didn't appear. She found him in the living room in front of the television, engrossed in a hockey game. She'd been astonished after she started dating Jack to discover that the hockey season extended into June. This must be one of the semi-final games. Jack liked hockey, but given that they had perfectly wonderful digital recording equipment that she had personally taken pains to O'Neill-proof, she was sure that she'd be able to lead his focus away. In fact, the game was a particularly exciting game that went into triple overtime from the first round of the play-offs that Jack had recorded at the time and was replaying, but he was sure that she would not notice that. She'd been tearing apart a doohickey in the bowels of Cheyenne Mountain the first time. Sam sat down at his side, kissed him on his neck, just below the ear, and leaned her head on his shoulder. It was a good opening salvo, but Jack was able to withstand it with relative ease. The native bath soap was strongly floral, and was overwhelming her own delicate, wonderful, enticing Carter-smell. He still had the upper hand.


"I'm back! Miss me?"


"Um-hmm. NOOO! Are you blind! Any idiot could see he had a clear shot to your five hole!"


"I missed you." This was accompanied by a hand stroking up his thigh with intent. Little Jack noticed, but a quick glance upwards for help, and Jack was once more in control.


"Jaaack!" The whine was almost Daniel-worthy, and thus easy to resist, but she'd licked his neck. Another upward glance and a screen full of sweaty gap-toothed athlete in close-up sufficed.


"Have you been partying without me while I was gone?"


"No!...Well, not much. A few times. This is a close game!"


"You know we went to Planet Grape-smuggling Bath-boy, don't you? That's what you called it when we went."




"And I know you knew the effect it had on me then."




"Well..." This time Sam didn't bother with the thigh. She went right to the source. But Jack just sighed, looked up at the ceiling, and didn't react. He always reacted. Something was dreadfully wrong. Was he angry? Did he think she'd ... indulged on the planet? No, that was simply not possible. Jack knew her better than that, and besides if he were jealous he'd get all alpha and territorial on her, and frustration would not be her problem. Yeah, she'd been a little mean to him embarrassing him in front of Siler and that new lieutenant, and that time she was giggling about him with Haley when he came in, but Jack knew she was just having a bit of fun. Looking at his profile, eyes intent on the screen, leaning forward in reaction to the play of the game, bluish light playing across his face, suddenly she wasn't so sure. He could play the carefree overgrown boy to the hilt, but this was a man who had had his dignity ripped from him in prisons from Iraq to Ba'al's fortress, and never surrendered an iota of it voluntarily. He'd earned his stars and the respect they garnered the hard way. She'd gotten so used to his uncritical adoration, to being relaxed in his presence at last, that she'd forgotten that. Something had upset Jack, and clearly that something was her. She could think of nothing else it could be, but still she wasn't sure.


She went over to the TV and turned it off manually. As Jack rose in protest, she went and stood before him, studying his face. He in his turn studied her, but said nothing. The expression was familiar, though. He'd had it many times in the field while he was waiting for her to get some point he was trying to teach her about tactics, or command. He'd lay out the pieces and wait for her to make the connection and see the lesson.


"I've gotten a little carried away lately, haven't I?" she said.


"A little impressed with your own power."


"I wasn't that bad was I?"


"There've been worse. Hitler. Nero. Apophis. Anubis-"


"Jaack! I'm not that bad!" Her expression and her voice softened. Now it was quiet, almost hesitant. "I'm sorry. Can I have a hug?"




She stepped into the circle of his arms, feeling that tell-tale quickening of her breath and flutter of her heart that she felt each time she touched him, and after she experienced his instinctive sniffing of her neck, and could feel his body at last rising to the occasion against her belly, she looked up to reach for his kiss, and burst out laughing. Jack saw where her eyes had gone, and chuckled along.


"I need help from on high to resist you," he said.


On the ceiling was taped a poster in black and white of J. Edgar Hoover, all bulldog jowls and scowling brow, in drag.


"There's one in the bedroom you'd better run ahead and take down now," said Jack climbing on the couch to reach up and untape it. "I'll get the ones in the kitchen, the study, and the bathroom later. Don't rip it though. I wanna be able to reuse it if I hafta."




( 8 comments — Leave a comment )
May. 28th, 2009 01:57 am (UTC)
J. Edgar Hoover in drag? Bwahahahahha. Jack really pulled out the big (scary!) guns there. Help from on high, indeed.

(Also I always love to see Hailey making an appearance, even a cameo! And Mitchell and Vala as virtual-family-by-marriage, aww. And hehe. There's some troublemaking in-laws for you.)
May. 29th, 2009 10:36 pm (UTC)
omfg, that was absolutely HYSTERICAL. Too perfect. And the fact that O'Neill knows ANY of Newton's Laws kind of implies he listens to Carter more than he pretends to...
Jun. 3rd, 2009 04:48 am (UTC)
Hey, sorry to take so long to respond. My computer kind of...imploded. Right now things are jury rigged but mostly functional on another machine.

So glad you enjoyed it.

Actually I figure that Jack had to have had physics as a pre-requisite to flight school, not that he would necessarily have enjoyed it, mind you, nor would he have paid a whole lot of attention to the details, beyond what he needed to pass each test. I'm sure he remembers every word that comes out of Carter's mouth though - but mostly in the form of how she looked as she said each one... ;)
Jun. 3rd, 2009 05:25 pm (UTC)
Don't know. Was never a pilot but Uncle wanted me to be an arial gunner and there was no physics requirement for the training. Then again, straight up flyboys probably operate under a different standard so it's entirely possible.

*hug* So sorry about your computer. That always sucks. Mine melted down in January (lost almost 50 WiP fics i hadn't had the brains to back up) and it was serious "the sky is falling" time because you keep a lot of things on the compie that you won't/can't keep anywhere else. So just total sympathy and solidarity there *hug*

and, again, great fic :)
Oct. 6th, 2009 12:08 am (UTC)
rotflmao!!! good ammo Jack :)

love the amazon planet (eg).

...and.. you have the magic ingredient to really make me grin these days :D (initial MSSS)
Jun. 15th, 2010 03:25 am (UTC)
that was sooooo funny!!!!! Please, you have to let me post this on under your name. They would love it.
Jun. 15th, 2010 03:28 am (UTC)
Jun. 16th, 2010 05:38 pm (UTC)
Sorry for all the late responses to your lovely comments. With the end of the school year I've had so much going in the past couple of weeks that I find that when it comes to taking my "fun" time after the kids are in bed, I keep falling asleep in front of the computer, and not getting to all the things I want to do!

I've thought about this, but I think that in fairness to mrspollifax whose fic inspired this, I'd rather that this remain here, where people can easily find the link to her original. However, feel free to post a link there that leads here, if that will do. I am very touched that you enjoyed this enough to want to spread it around.
( 8 comments — Leave a comment )



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