BTG Zipfic

Competition

by Scribe

As they exited O'Malley's, Sam watched as Daniel flicked an imaginary speck of dirt off the sleeve of his soft cotton top. It was almost as though he was dismissing the past ten minutes from his life, the action exuding a casual disdain that Sam would not normally have considered to be part of Daniel's emotional repertoire. But then recent history was doing a good job of rewriting what was and wasn't a part of Daniel Jackson. She still hadn't quite got over her surprise at him not only standing his ground against the loudmouth bully-boy who had called him a geek, but actually starting a brawl. Not that Daniel, well old Daniel or rather, pre-armband Daniel, was a coward – definitely not – but he rarely resorted to physical violence unless it was his only option, and even then his reluctance at its use was plain.

Strictly speaking, of course, Daniel hadn't actually started the brawl. Colonel O'Neill had been the first one to get physical, tossing a 256 pound wall of muscle across the bar as easily as if he'd just flicked a matchstick. But Daniel had made it perfectly clear he was itching to fight, had in fact openly signalled his desire to the colonel. And once that had happened nothing short of General Hammond arriving in an armoured tank was going to stop the pair of them scratching the itch. Come to think of it, not even General Hammond's presence would've made a difference.

She sighed to herself. Men! She should never have suggested O'Malley's. All that red meat had clearly short-circuited their brains. She watched them now as they swaggered down the steps in front of her. God! Anyone would think they'd reverted into nineteen-year-old walking hormones, all macho talk, puffed out chests and damn cute backsides. What?! Okay, rewind... she had not just noticed their backsides. No. Definitely not.

She fell in step with her team-mates as they strolled away from the ruined steakbar, two police cars racing past them, sirens blaring. The sight brightened the wicked gleam in Daniel's eyes and he grinned at Jack. "We showed them, huh?"

"We sure did, Danny-boy!" Jack clapped Daniel on the back and then slid an arm around the younger man's shoulders. "So what next?"

What next? Sam shook her head. Time to get back to the SGC before somebody noticed they were gone was the obvious answer. She held back on that comment though. The 'boys' were obviously on some post-fight high and she seriously doubted they were going to take any notice of her nannying comments. Besides the thought of being coped back up in the mountain didn't appeal to her either. Then again, she didn't particularly want to hang around with these two if they were going to continue playing some bizarre game of one-up-manship. They'd been at it the whole way to O'Malley's, trying to out jump, out run and generally out do each other. She really had to remember to mention this adolescent competitive streak to Janet. Right after she got the doctor to check out their testosterone levels.

She fixed her team-mates with a stern look. "Aren't you two done with the competition thing?"

Daniel raised his eyebrows at her. "Oh c'mon, Sam. You enjoyed playing high jump over that fence just as much as we did."

Despite herself she smiled at the memory. "That was something, wasn't it?"

"You betcha." Jack's gaze was sweeping their surroundings looking for fresh entertainment. Spotting an empty soda can, he grinned at Daniel before stooping to pick it up. "Bet I can kick this hard enough to hit that trash can down the street." He pointed to the metal object standing some three hundred yards away.

Daniel pulled a dismissive face. "Bet I can get there and catch it before it lands."

"No way!" The words were out of Sam's mouth before she could stop them. Daniel turned to her, eyebrows raised, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Put your money where your mouth is," he taunted.

Sam considered a moment. This new cocky version of Daniel was taking a bit of getting use to. Not that she didn't approve. Her gaze swept him up and down, noting the way his zip-up top revealed just the right amount of smooth, muscular chest, the cut of the shoulders perfectly emphasising a width she hadn't been aware of before – a very attractive width. Somewhere along the way, Daniel had definitely shaped up – how the hell had she missed it? She allowed herself another sweep, noting this time just how low his pants were riding low on his hips. Her mind helpfully supplied the image of him standing bare-chested before her, the light-coloured cotton material clinging precariously in place, the waistband offering a tantalising arc as it curved from his left hipbone to his right, a fine line of fair hair forming just below his belly button, thickening and darkening as it drew the eyes and the mind and the…

"Sam?!" Daniel was studying her with a slightly bemused expression.

"What?" She snapped to. Oh God! Had she really just been drooling over her team-mate like he was a piece of meat? Maybe she should've laid off the steak too. "Sorry, you were saying?"

Shooting her a curious look, Jack interrupted. "I've got a better idea, Daniel. Carter kicks the soda can and whichever one of us gets to it first wins."

"Wins what?" Daniel asked.

Jack grinned. "The who-can-get-to-the-can-first competition!"

"Oh right." Daniel nodded studiously as though Jack had just laid out the finer points of quantum mechanics to him.

A wave of annoyance washed over Sam as she watched them nodding and grinning at each other like two small schoolboys sharing a grubby secret behind the bike shed. "Hey, just a minute. I want to play."

Two pairs of eyes swivelling in her direction; the same surprised expression in both.

"Oh, right."

Damn it. They were even talking in unison now. Sam adopted what she hoped was an icy glare, and suddenly realised she was standing, hands on hips, tapping her right foot against the ground. The image conjured up a strong mental picture from one of her favourite childhood books. She swapped the icy glare for a pout. "If you don't let me play I'll scream and scream until I'm sick."

Jack winced. "Okay, Violet Elizabeth. You can play. But you still have to kick the can. You kick it. All three of us try and catch it before it hits the ground. Okay?"

Sam smiled sweetly, somewhat surprised the colonel had caught the literary reference. "Okay!"

She picked up the battered soda can and peered down the street, automatically slipping into physics mode. "If I allow for wind speed, and a terminal velocity of…"

"Just kick the damn can, Carter!" Jack was crouched ready for a sprint start.

She glared at him, promising herself that no way in hell was Jack O'Neill going to make it to the can before her. "Okay, okay! On three. One… two… three!" She tossed the can into the air and kicked it for all she was worth as it came down, immediately breaking into an all-out sprint down the street.

A high-pitched whistle screamed through the air as the soda can described a smooth arc, travelling at incredible speed. Sam was aware of a blur to her left, then another to her right, but she had the edge over both of the men.

"I've got it!" she yelled triumphantly as she held out her hands to catch the descending can.

"No you haven't!" Two hundred pounds of airforce colonel collided with her, pushing her to one side. "I have!"

"In your dreams, Jack." Daniel was suddenly jostling with the colonel for space, arms held up to snatch the prize.

"No way!" Sam responded, throwing herself forward. If she couldn't catch the damn prize, nobody was going to catch it. She wrapped her arms firmly around Daniel's ankles, pulling him to the ground, while her own legs scissored the colonel's knees knocking him off balance.

"Hey!"

"Ow!"

"Ooooo..fffff!"

There was the distinctive sound of metal hitting tarmac.

"Carter!"

"Sam!"

"Oops!"

Sam carefully disentangled herself from her fallen team-mates. Sitting up and pushing her hair out of her eyes, she adopted an innocent expression. "Guess we all missed it."

Colonel O'Neill glared at her as he squirmed from under Daniel, climbed to his feet and started to brush the dirt from his pants. "That was a low down, no good, sneaky…" His tirade suddenly stopped. "Daniel? Are you okay?"

Sam swivelled round to see Daniel was also climbing to his feet, but with an all-too-obvious pained expression on his face. Guilt vied with concern at the thought her practical joke might have mis-fired. "Are you hurt?"

"Errr…." Daniel winced. "No… I'm fine… it's just…" His right arm curled protectively around his lower abdomen.

"Daniel?" Sam moved towards him, convinced he was lying. It really wasn't that long ago he'd had an emergency appendectomy, and he definitely looked in pain.

He waved her off with his left hand. "No really. I'm fine." He began to jiggle up and down on the spot. "It's just that…" Even in the dim light, Sam could see colour rising in his face. "Oh damn. I really need to pee. Your elbow caught me… right…" His left hand dropped and made a small circular motion in front of his groin.

"Oh." Sam felt her own colour rise. "Sorry."

"Not your fault," Daniel said between gritted teeth. He shuffled towards the gutter and a conveniently placed storm drain. "Look, I don't want to be an exhibitionist or anything, but I really need to…"

"Oh!" Sam spun round, turning her back to Daniel as he began to tug at his fly. Her heightened sense of hearing picked up every snick of metal upon metal as a zip was opened.

"You know, now you mention it…" Jack's voice sounded, followed more snicking of metal teeth.

Sam pressed her hands over her eyes as she heard the distinctive sound of rustling cotton. Rustling cotton and other things, body parts. Definitely body parts. No, no. She really didn't need this image in her mind.

"So Daniel," Jack asked, his voice sounding casual. "Reckon you could hit that car over there?"

"What?" Daniel replied, his tension a sharp counterpoint to Jack's tone of voice.

"That car, " Jack repeated. "Twenty feet? To the rear hub cap."

What the...? Completely forgetting her situation Sam spun round, full of indignation. "You are not having a pissing competition!"

Her eyes widened at the sight of both men standing in identical stances, legs slightly apart, pelvic bones tilted forward, weight balanced lightly on heels, the thumb and forefinger of the right hand curled around a carefully aimed body part. She blinked very, very slowly.

Okay. She could either act like a twelve-year-old schoolgirl or she could pretend this was an everyday event. Nothing out of the unusual. She had a brother after all. It wasn't like she'd never seen… She was saved by O'Neill.

"Major," Jack said nonchalantly, glancing down at himself and then back at her. "I'm afraid this time you really can't play."

Sam felt a smile tug at her lips. Her gaze drifted to the distant lights of the police vehicles. "Not even if I scream?"

Daniel pulled in a sharp breath, his eyebrows dancing in horror. "I think we'd prefer it if you didn't scream right now."

"Oh. Okay then. But... before you start." Sam studied the two men for a moment and then smiled sweetly, deliberately letting her gaze rest just below belt level. There was more than one way to win a pissing contest. "About me putting my money where my mouth is…"

"Carter!"

"Sam!"

Her smile widened as she saw her words have the desired effect. "Never mind. On three. One… two…. Three! Err... boys... you can start now..."

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