Disclaimer - MGM/Gekko/Double Secret own them.
Sam/Pete, rated PG-13 to be on the safe side. Spoilers for 'Chimera'.
*smooches nel*
For the wonderful mylo1012. And Bonnie, of course.
*
She hadn't forgotten what it was like, exactly. Nothing had frozen over, re-formed, or been bronzed for posterity.
But it was nice to have sex again.
And it was the less obvious things she was focusing on now. Memory could only do so much - sadly it faded as the years passed. Occasionally something would happen that would throw a memory into light: where specifics and thoughts were suddenly *there*...but more often than not, it was a hazy - if usually pleasant - recollection.
But this moment right now, for example. She knew, she absolutely knew that this wasn't the first time someone she'd recently had sex with had massaged her feet. What she didn't remember, however, was how damn good it felt.
She probably should have been wondering if the noises she was making now rivalled the noises she'd been making earlier, but everything stopped mattering when Pete pushed his thumb *right* *there*...and she groaned.
Fortunately having never been of a ticklish disposition (as Colonel O'Neill liked to refer to it - not that he was ever going to find out either way) her body didn't tense up as soon as he touched her feet. Instead, she could relax and...mmmooooooaaaaannnnnn.
"Check me out," he said.
Sam kept her eyes shut. "That'd mean moving."
"But look," he pleaded, "I am so your foot slave."
So yeah, one thing she’d quickly discovered about a certain Pete Shanahan: weird sense of humour. Sam'd decided early on to just go with the flow, and surprised herself by finding his sense of humour really wasn't all that different from hers. She just kept hers a lot more restrained.
Though he apparently had a tendency of bringing it out.
Plus, foot slave? How could she *not* look?
Cracking her eyelids open, she lifted her head enough to see his face. It was lowered but he was definitely grinning at her, holding her gaze as he leant down and kissed the end of the big toe on the foot he was holding.
Chuckling, Sam shook her head. He really was nuts. "Come here." She patted the bed.
"Nope." He stubbornly remained where he was. "I am your foot slave. Therefore, I slave over your foot."
"My foot isn't all that wants slavin-ooooo..." Oooh, he'd pressed there again.
Okay. So it wasn't as if she hadn’t had great sex before. But there was something about the way *he* pressed *her* foot. She never really gave her feet much thought. She washed them, cleaned them; occasionally slapped some moisturiser on.
"Your poor feet get treated so badly," he told her, as if her feet had actually just been having an in-depth conversation with him, "I can just imagine what you're like. Even when you're working on something 'scientific' you never keep still. Always moving. And then when you’re out in the field..." That was their phrase, the terminology they used. They never said 'off world', just in case. Always just in case. "They probably fare even worse."
God, it was nice being with someone who *knew*. Not someone who she discussed every single aspect of her work with (clearance or not, there were still some things he wasn't allowed to know), but just someone who had the basic knowledge of what she did.
Who understood.
Add to that the sense of humour, the potential future as a professional masseur, and his frequent penchant for trying to make her dreams come true (which sounded *incredibly* corny, but there it was), and...yeah. Definitely a keeper.
But really, there was only so much foot teasing a girl could take. "Pete?"
"Sam?"
She fixed him with her most innocent grin, even as she stretched deliberately. "Can you be my body slave now?"
Wow. She didn't know masseurs could move that fast.
~FINIS