Little Red (mylittleredgirl) wrote,
Little Red

happy birthday alliesings!

You people and your birthdays! It counts, because it's still technically the 19th in my timezone, if you take into account how all the clocks in my bedroom are wrong. :) I love you, darlin'! And what could I write for you except for happy!mini!otp? Nothing. Enjoy. :)

Title: "Class R (Restricted)"
Rating: PG-13
Category: mini!otp. thar be fluff ahoy.
Summary: How Samantha Carter learned to drive.


Sam isn't going to laugh.

She isn't. That would be cruel, adding horrible insult to the endless humiliation of a second teenagerhood that started in a renegade Asgard ship and ended in the Colorado State DMV.

"Don't say a word, Carter."

She isn't saying a word. She can't, not while she's trying to weld her mouth shut to keep from laughing out loud.

Because if she laughs, he'll sulk for the whole rest of the week, or bark at her like she's still under his military command, and either way she'll probably end up having to sleep in her own bed that night.

She hates that. She used to love the sanctuary of her little attic bedroom (love is, of course, too strong a word, but the teenage propensity for dramatic hyperbole seems to be contagious at her school -- despised less than everything else is a more accurate description). She still spends time there -- reading, studying, scribbling bad artwork in the sketchbook she never lets Jack see -- but it's lonely to sleep there by herself, and reminds her of the first year of cloned life that she'd rather entirely forget (because lonely was really the best part about it... and also the very very worst).

"Not one single word."

Sam practically skips toward the parking lot. Skipping, it seems, is also contagious in the eleventh grade. "I'll pull the car around."

She can feel him glaring at her back. "I can't believe you're enjoying this!"

"I'm not! Really, I'm not." She keeps her back turned so he can't see how red her cheeks are getting.

He mutters something unkind. She ignores him. "Want to stop for ice cream on the way home?" She doesn't intend to say it, but it just slips out: "I can take us through the drive-thru at the Dairy Queen..."

"No, thanks, I'll walk."

She pouts. She has been looking forward to this day for way, way too long (looked forward to it twice now, actually), and she's a little disappointed that Jack is probably going to want to just go home and angrily throw simulated grenades at people in Halo on the day she should be taking her boyfriend and her brand-new junior license on the longest road trip she can find (while still getting home by midnight, the under-18 driver curfew).

Plus, she loves him and all, and that means she actually hates that he's miserable.

Even if it's really, really funny. It's a shame she has no one to tell who would actually get the joke. (She still misses Daniel, quite a bit, and Janet and Cassie and Teal'c and General Hammond and her father and everyone, but it's better when she doesn't think about it, when she focuses on being young -- very young -- and in grownup-teenage love and lust and how the life ahead of her is very different than the one she already lived.)


"Oh, just shut it."

"I'm serious. You can take it again next week. Lots of people fail their teen driving test."

He must be upset, because he talks a little louder than he should in public: "Lots of teens haven't been driving for thirty-five years!"

Sam tries to school her expression. By the way he's still glaring, it's not working. "It was a trick question that they got you on, you're right. The instructions weren't clear."

"You passed."

"I studied."

"I sort of studied."

"Giving me hickeys while I study doesn't actually count as-"

He cuts her off. Which is fair enough, because they have that argument every other week. She wouldn't keep harping on it if she didn't really really love that he does that and that she's allowed to tease him about it. "I don't need to study! A car is the least complicated machine I know how to operate."

Sam winces, because it's true, although they haven't had much opportunity to travel around in any of those for eighteen months now, either. "I'm sorry."

Jack glares for another moment, then shrugs with a dramatic sigh. "I guess I'll live."

"You can take it again next week."

"Or you can drive me around the rest of my life."

She links her arm through his and smiles. After years of being his co-pilot... "That wouldn't be so bad."

"I don't suppose you'd let me give you hickeys while you're driving."

She drops his arm and swats him. "No! You want me to get my license taken away already?"

He finally cracks a hint of a smile. "Just checking."

She wraps an arm around him, half-hugging him in the DMV lobby. "It's just a test," she says. "It's not that important."

"Hey, it's a ritual. It's a symbol of maturity."

She smirks up at him, hoping he'll kiss her. "It's no wonder you failed, then."

It's barely more than a peck, just a hint of his tongue touching her bottom lip, and that's what drives her completely crazy, and damn him, now he knows that and uses it against her all the time.

Like now.

Though really, she enjoys it too much to complain, and, to be fair, he does always follow through once he's done yanking her teenaged hormones around.

Jack asks, "That offer for ice cream still standing?"

The memory of that kiss only a few seconds old, she kind of likes the idea of going straight home, but she supposes her brand new driver's license could use a little trying-out. "You buy, I'll fly."

Once outside the building, Sam can see their little Civic, happily waiting for her to drive it without a driving teacher (and unhappily waiting for a new paint job). The hatchback is a far cry from the cars they used to have, but it still makes her want to run around announcing our first car! together! to anyone who will listen.

Jack tugs her hand until she looks at him and can see how he's waggling his eyebrows between her and the car. "You know what else is a teenage ritual?"

For some reason, the no catches in her throat. "Can you lose your license for public indecency?"

Jack shrugs. "I don't think so. Possible jail time, though."

Sam considers it. "Probably just a fine."

"I can live with that."

Sam isn't going to admit it for another twenty minutes or so, but she can, too.

- end -
Tags: fic, mini!otp, peeps: yay fellow humans!

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