Stalker Pete And The General 1

Reservations

by Mitch H

URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/asm/mitchh/stalke01.php
Summary: Sam and Daniel are best friends, so it only makes sense that their mutual lovers should get along. But our General O'Neill has reservations about the man who stalked a member of his team.

"You look good, Pete." Sam said with a broad smile as they climbed the steps to the general's house. "General," she said under her breath, and shook her head.

"What?" Pete asked, patting the hand she had curled around his arm.

"I'll never get used to calling Colonel O'Neill, General."

"Oh," the blond cop said as he fidgeted by his girlfriend's side. "Why couldn't we just meet them at the restaurant?"

"Because the colonel was going to drive--"

"The general," Pete corrected her, with a wry grin. "You're beautiful when you're wrong too. I didn't think I'd ever find that out."

For a moment Sam had a blank look on her face, then she slapped him lightly on the arm she held. "Flattery, sir, will get you everywhere."

"Promise?" he asked hopefully, then stole a kiss before she had a chance to ring the doorbell.

The moment the button was pushed the door opened. Pete came face to face with a dour looking O'Neill, who impatiently tapped his watch and raised his eyebrows.

"Reservations," he said in way of a greeting.

"Sorry, sir," Sam responded, nonplused as he ushered them inside. "We got held up. Is Daniel here already?"

O'Neill leaned back and bellowed into the air, "Daniel! Reservations!"

"Oh," Daniel exclaimed as he slid on stockinged feet into the hallway, "Hi Pete," and quickly added, "Sam come take a look at this graph I just got downloaded from--"

"Pants, Daniel!" Jack groused.

Daniel blinked and then looked down at himself. He was wearing a long sleeved, oxford shirt, socks, boxers, and nothing else. "Oh sure. Sorry. I'll get them in a minute." As he ducked back into Jack's study he continued talking. "I just got the data, Sam. You've got to come see this. It's not at all what we expected . . . "

Sam gave Pete a quick squeeze, and then hurried after Daniel.

"Sam?" Pete squeaked, taking a half-step after his quickly-disappearing girlfriend. She was leaving him alone with the general, his worst fear!

"Oh, be right back, Pete. Just have a seat and catch up on things with Colonel O'Neill. We won't be more than a minute or two." She disappeared around the corner into the study.

Pete took another half step after her, then turned back to O'Neill. "Catch up on things," he murmured with barely concealed dread.

O'Neill glared at him for a moment, and then with a grimace, stepped out of the way and motioned for Pete to go into the living room. He sat in a low, padded chair across from the young cop. "So, stalk anyone new lately?" He leaned back and smiled broadly.

Pete coughed and sat forward, his body tense. "I didn't stalk her. Not exactly. I was just . . . "

O'Neill waved a hand in the air, as if urging Pete to continue, then he finished the sentence for the younger man. "Shadowing her? Following her? Spying--"

"Learning about her," Pete asserted.

"Learning. Uh huh." O'Neill stared.

Pete sat back and fidgeted, picking at his fingernails.

Jack looked over his shoulder and bellowed again, "Reservations!"

Pete heard Daniel call out but didn't quite make out what the man said. Then his mouth did one of its usual disastrous stunts. "He gonna have pants on when we leave?"

Jack's mouth dropped open, then he snapped it shut and glared at the man.

"I mean," Pete started, his hands defensively out in front of him, "I mean, I didn't mean anything by that." The man looked like he was going to kill him.

"Worried about your girlfriend in there with him?" the general asked with a sneer. "Trust me, those two are so deep into that graph thingy they wouldn't notice if each other were stark raving naked."

"Oh, now there's HALF an image I like. I mean . . . " Pete sighed. Things couldn't possibly get any worse. It was time to get this conversation back on safe territory. "So, how's the general thing working out for you?"

"Beer," O'Neill snapped.

"Beer?" Pete asked.

"Want one?" O'Neill asked forcefully, tilting his head to emphasize what was so obviously an invitation to have something to drink, and that Pete was an idiot for not understanding that.

"Uh, okay," Pete said slowly, recognizing himself for the idiot O'Neill thought he was. Half an image? Could he be any more insulting to the man?

With a renewed grimace O'Neill left the room. He fetched two bottles from the refrigerator and handed one to the cop.

"May your glass be ever full," O'Neill said saucily.

"May the roof over your head be always strong," Pete said, challengingly.

"And may you be in heaven," O'Neill said, his eyes stern.

"Half an hour before the devil knows you're dead," Pete finished the old Irish toast triumphantly.

O'Neill held his bottle to Pete's and clanked them together. "Shanahan," he said with a nod, stressing the Irish name.

"O'Neill," Pete said, with a nod too, then drank deep, and long of the dark brew.

An hour and five more beers later the two men were deep into a discussion on the merits of old fables from County Cork. Jack looked at his watch, then bellowed again about reservations and added a remark about Daniel's lack of pants.

Pete laughed. "Our dates are standing us up and we haven't even left the house."

Jack laughed. "That calls for another beer."

"On an empty stomach?" Pete protested as Jack went to the kitchen. "I've had my limit."

"Yeah. Daniel's limit is one. Oh in eeh," he spelled it out as he held up a finger. "Cheap date."

"You're lucky. Sam can drink me under the table any day."

"Shame on you, Shanahan!" Jack exclaimed as he handed Pete another. "That's a fine way to hold up the reputation of the Irish, letting a girl--"

"Oh, don't even go there, O'Neill. She can out-shoot me, out-fight me, out-run me--"

"But she can't out-stalk you!" Jack hooted as he dropped into the couch beside Pete.

Pete roared with laughter. "Yeah, I got her beat, there."

When those bottles were empty O'Neill and Shanahan were deep in giggles about a dirty Irish limerick involving an old maid, three sailors and a bushel of wheat.

Daniel came padding into the room, with pants, but still without shoes. Sam was a few steps behind him.

"So, she finished, "the naquadah output will increase by twenty-five percent with this new refinement method."

"That'll be great. I could use the--" Daniel stopped, taking in the sight of Jack slouched against Pete on the couch. Both men were giggling.

"O'Neill, our dates haven't stood us up after all."

"Wha-sit? Oh, Danny boy. Pants and all. Come give us a kiss, laddie." Jack said, in a strong Irish brogue.

"Jack?" Daniel asked, his eyebrows rising high.

"Kiss?" Sam asked, her eyebrows just as high. "Dates? What have you two been discussing?"

"Oh, not to worry, Carter. He's a good 'un. From the old sod. He won't spill the beans." The brogue was gone.

"As long as you don't ask me to carry 'em," Pete said, bursting out in giggles. "Cause I'm drunk, an' I'd spill anything right now."

"'Cept Guinness," Jack admonished with a shake of his finger.

"'Cept Guinness, of course," Pete agreed sternly, then giggled.

"We had reservations," Daniel said weakly.

"Yep. Hour ago. Now give us a kiss. I'm a general. I can order you to kiss me if I want to."

"I’m a civilian, Jack. You can't order me to do a single thing."

"Can."

"Can't."

"Can so."

"Can so not," Daniel said with a shake of his head. Then he turned his back on the listing man. This proved to be his mistake. As he was asking Sam if she'd like to go get something to eat Daniel was stalked and then captured by a drunken general.

"Jack!" Daniel protested as he was enveloped in a bear hug. Jack pressed his lips to Daniel's and delivered a wet, but impassioned kiss.

"Me!" Pete cheered from the couch. "Sam, don't forget me! I waited all this time for you too. I've been very good and very patient. I want a kiss too!"

"Oh, brother," Sam said, but smiled as she sat by her boyfriend. "You're drunk. The colonel got you drunk."

Pete planted a kiss on her red lips, then cupped her cheek and gazed into her eyes. He winked and smiled. Then he whispered to her, "Like I said, sexy even when you're wrong."

Sam looked puzzled for a moment, then her mouth opened into a wide O. That was the moment her not-so-drunk boyfriend chose to kiss her senseless.

Their dinner reservations were long-missed, and the sun had set hours ago. Sam snuggled under the throw against Pete on the colonel's couch. The general's, she corrected herself and smiled.

"Mmm," Pete snuffled and kissed her ear, then drifted back to sleep.

"Half wrong," she said to the sleeping man. "You can hold your own, Shanahan. But you should have quit before the last two beers. You just had to match him bottle for bottle, didn't you? Just like you have to match me. Well, fine. Because I want you to stay around for a very, very long time." She kissed his temple, then snuggled deeper under the blanket.

Later, a small light flicking on in the kitchen woke her. Daniel came in and crouched by her side.

"Thought you might like something," he whispered, and held out a plate of cheese and crackers. He sat a glass of milk on the coffee table.

"Thanks," Sam whispered back to him. "I am hungry. Didn't realize."

"We missed dinner." Daniel slumped cross-legged on the floor as Sam sat up and nibbled at the treat he'd brought.

"Did we," she said with a shy smile between bites.

"He already knew, didn't he?" Daniel asked.

Sam nodded. "I think so. I don't think there's much Pete misses."

"And he's okay with it."

"Maybe he was a little nervous on our way over here. But he's fine. You and Jack are fine. He won't tell anyone."

"I wasn't worried," Daniel said. He sat quietly while she ate.

"You okay with him knowing?" Sam asked. "Because it wasn't my intention for him to find out."

"As close as we are, Sam, you and me, anyone in your life . . . anyone you care for like him, they'd know eventually."

"Yeah. I never thought about it. And it matters to me, Daniel. Matters a lot. Also that he'd get along with the . . . general. I don't want anyone hurting the friendship you and I have. So . . . "

"So our boyfriends have to get along," Daniel said with a warm smile.

Sam matched his smile, and then nodded.

"Okay. Hey, you guys can move to the guestroom for the rest of the night if you want. It's not exactly being used," Daniel whispered.

Sam chuckled softly. "I'll try to wake him and see if he's up to the shift."

"I'm up to it," Pete said sleepily. "If it means I can straighten out my left leg."

Sam and Daniel laughed.

"Thanks, Daniel. We're good to go. We'll find our way there. See you in the morning."

"Night, Sam. Night Pete." Daniel left the two lovers and returned to bed. He crawled in beside Jack, snuggling his chilled body against Jack's snoring, sprawled form. Daniel threw one leg over Jack, wrapped one arm across his chest and laid his head on Jack's shoulder. Jack snorted, then wrapped arms around him.

"We have good people in our lives, Jack."

"Glass ever be full," Jack mumbled.

"Yeah, love you too. And you can order me to kiss you any time you want." Daniel fell asleep in the arms of the man who loved him.

END

Next: Gone Fishing