Intro to fic that will never be written

[cdybedahl]

As the day passed, Major Samantha Carter made sure to have things to do ever closer to the elevators. Around lunch, when she spent half an hour or so in her lab, she hid a set of civilian clothes in a cardboard box. She put the box on the lower surface of a wheeled work table and dragged the table along everywhere she went for the rest of the day. The top of it was covered with more or less mysterious electronic equipment, and quite safe from suspicion. One of the good things of being the smartest person in the SGC was that nobody was ever sure what she was doing, so she could get away with a whole lot of goofing off if she wanted to. Which, some days, she did want. On, for example, days when she had a certain kind of meeting in the evening and couldn't keep her mind on her work at all. So, really, it wasn't like it was hard to be right next to the little storage room next to the elevator shaft at the end of the day. The little room where she changed her uniform for blue jeans, white t-shirt and brown leather jacket. A baseball cap with "Yoyodyne" written on it completed the transformation, and then it was just a question of taking the first empty elevator cage to the surface.

At the first road crossing the access road to Cheyenne Mountain came to, Sam turned her motorcycle in the opposite direction from where she was really headed. Just in case someone was trying to keep track of her. She'd scanned the bike for any kind of radio transmitter she hadn't put there herself, and she was quite sure that she'd spot any pursuers, but it never hurt to be careful. So she had given herself enough time to take the long way to her encounter. The way that led along twisty little gravel roads through the woods, mostly deserted and less than well known. Someone who knew them well could easily outpace someone unfamiliar with them, and Sam was sure that nobody in the SGC knew them anywhere near as well as she did.
She raced ahead as fast as she dared, relishing the forest smells that snuck in around the edges of her helmet's visor.

Moving fast wasn't the only way to keep one's destination secret, of course. Moving slowly could be just as effective. For one hour, Sam sat in the corner of a truck stop diner, sipping several cups of coffee and trying to see if anyone else looked out of place and just waited. As usual, nobody did. She finished off her coffee and went into the ladies' shower room, where she was renting a locker under a false name. The jeans, the t-shirt, her biker boots, her udnerwear, the scrunched-up Yoyodyne cap, the bike helmet and the leather jacket went into the locker, leaving Sam quite naked. Out of the locker came a long denim skirt, a red blouse, a black pair of knee-high boots, a pale tan sun hat and a large pair of dark glasses. The lack of underwear made Sam feel more than a little bit naughty as she snuck out the back of the truck stop. A few moments later, she was driving away in a car rented in an entirely different name from the one she'd used for the locker.

When the sun was just dodging under the horizon Sam finally reached her destination. It was a small hotel way out in the woods, far from the nearest town. It had a central building hosting the reception and the place's restaurant, and a handful of small cottages spread around it. Sam drove slowly past the cars parked in front of the reception building, making sure that she didn't recognize any of them before she parked her own, put on her sunglasses and stepped out.
The air smelled of pine forest and summer heat. For a moment, Sam closed her eyes and just relished it. It was too rarely that she got to smell Earth this way. Many of planets she visited might look like this, but all of them had their own distinctive smells. She wondered what their cottage would smell like. Most probaly stale human and cleaning chemicals, but one could always hope for better.
She opened her eyes and almost ran up the wooden stairs to the porch running all the way around the central building. Sounds of cutlery against porcelain came from the right, so that was the way she headed. While they never met more than once in any one place, they usually found each other in the bar or restaurant area of the places they went to. Or, to be honest, Sam usually got found in those places. She wasn't the one with the training in disguise and covert surveillance. So when she rounded the corner onto the much wider part of the porch with tables on it, she headed for the bar rather than look at the people.
Sam was less than halfway there when someone demonstratively cleared her throat behind her. Sam turned around.
At a table right next to the porch railing, a woman was sitting. She was dressed in murky green outdoorsy clothes. Her arms were bare, and quite muscular for a woman's. Her hair was hidden under a fishing cap, but a few red strands had strayed out and contrasted against her pale skin. Like Sam, she wore dark glasses in spite of the fading daylight.
"Major Carter," the woman said, her voiced pitched so low that it couldn't be heard at the next table.
The mere voice sent shivers of lust through Sam's body.
"Special Agent Scully," Sam said, keeping her voice just as low as Dana had.
For a few endless moments, they just looked at each other.
"At least one of us should probably take our glasses off," Scully eventually said.
Sam removed her dark glasses, amusement and exasperation visible on her face.
"We've got to stop meeting like this," she said.

Comments

[ffutures.livejournal.com]

I think it's a pretty good fic as it is.

[slamaina.livejournal.com]

I think that this works as a stand alone (though I always like to see more).

Slam