Author: Lin
Recipient: Meesh
Rating: PG
Fandoms: Stargate SG1/Farscape
Disclaimer: Neither Farscape or Stargate SG-1 belong to me. I'm making no profit from this work of fiction.
Summary: "I know him; Commander John Crichton. Or at least, I used to."
Author's Note: For Meesh, for the Multiverse 2007 ficathon. Thank you to LauraJo for a speedy beta job.
Part 1:
When John Crichton met Samantha Carter it was the summer of 1987. He'd just finished his third year of college and his 4.0 GPA had his dad just about as proud as John had ever seen him.
Sam had just graduated high school. She was six weeks away from the Air Force Academy and rules, uniforms, and orders to obey. Six weeks to get her rebellious urges out of her system and get ready to be a good little cadet.
Her fake ID was a good one – her brother's friends may have been largely morons, but they had their uses – and the bartender at Joe's barely glanced at it before pouring her a beer. Her friends were already twenty minutes late by the time John arrived, so Sam had swivelled her barstool around and was sipping her beer with her eyes on the door when he walked through it. He wore faded blue jeans, a black t-shirt, and a leather jacket that looked soft enough to cut with a butter knife.
She set down her beer and lit a cigarette as she watched him walk to the bar and sit down two stools away. She tried to muffle her cough as she inhaled. The cigarettes tasted awful, if she was honest. She didn't understand why anybody liked them, but all the best rebels smoked, right?
"Hey, anybody ever tell you those things'll kill you?" John leaned over and asked.
"No, you're the very first," Sam said with mock seriousness, trying to hide her surprise that he'd spoken to her at all. She stubbed her cigarette out in the ashtray on the bar. "But now that you've enlightened me I'll never smoke again."
John's eyebrow raise showed his scepticism. "Okay, probably not never again, but not for at least an hour." She took the cigarette packet and tossed it into the trash can at the end of the bar to demonstrate her sincerity, then shifted over one stool to sit beside him. She could smell his cologne and the leather of his biker jacket. "The pack was empty already," she confided. "But it's the symbolism that counts."
"Whatever you say," John said with a grin, as he beckoned the bartender over. "I'll take a beer, whatever's on tap. Can I get you a drink, uh ..."
"Samantha." Sam said. "And sure, a beer would be good."
"Great, two beers, thanks." John said to the bartender and then turned back to Sam. "And my name's John."
Sam held out her hand and John shook it. "Nice to meet you, John."
Three games of pool later and John slipped his arm around Sam's waist from behind and half led, half lifted her away from the table. "You didn't warn me that you're a pool shark!" He complained, indignantly.
"On the surface you look all blonde and beautiful and innocent, but underneath you're a nasty little pool shark and you're going to clean me out if we don't stop now."
"Hey, don't blame me," Sam said, laughing and pretending to struggle but secretly enjoying the feel of his arm around her and her back against his chest. "You asked me if I was any good and I said that I was. It's not my fault you didn't believe me!"
"Fine, fine, point conceded." John admitted. "I'm still not playing you again, I don't have that kind of money to lose. Let's get out of here."
"Out of here to where?"
"C'mon. My bike's in the parking lot." He reached for where his leather jacket was draped across a pinball table and handed it to her.
"Put this on and I'll take you for a ride."
Sam's hair hung more than halfway down her back; long enough that even wearing John's helmet she could still feel it blowing out behind her. Holding on tight around John's waist as he guided the bike skilfully around bends in the road, she mimicked his leans into the turns and cried out with excitement until the speed of the wind took her breath away. It probably wasn't what piloting fighter jets would be like, she told herself, but it was closer to it than anything she'd experienced before.
When John finally pulled over and set the bike on its kick-stand he got up and faced Sam, who was still sitting on the bike. She pulled off her helmet, ran her fingers through her tangled hair, and looked into his clear, sparkling blue eyes. "So, did you like it?" He asked, unnecessarily.
Sam's excitement bubbled over and her answer was simply to grab John's hand and pull him down until his lips met hers in a searing kiss. Sam wrapped her arms around John's neck, his hands found her hair, and their kiss deepened until a passing truck startled them and they moved apart.
"That's a yes then, I take it?" John asked, mischievously.
Sam swatted at his bicep and laughed, but her answer was sincere. "It's absolutely a yes, John. It was amazing, and I loved every minute of it. Thank you so much for bringing me. I've got to learn how to drive one of these things myself. It was ... like flying." Sam paused. "At least, I hope flying is as wonderful."
"Flying is better, Sam." John assured her. "A thousand times better."
"You've flown a plane?" Sam's amazement and envy was written across her face.
"I'm studying cosmology and astrophysics. When I graduate I want to get my doctorate in theoretical physics and become an astronaut." John sat back down on the bike, this time facing Sam, and she scratched her fingernails lightly down his denim-clad thighs. "I figured a little private flying experience might help out with that."
"This is so strange," Sam said dreamily, staring up at the stars that were beginning to twinkle in the darkening sky. "I've always wanted to be an astronaut too. Wow, it feels so good to say that to somebody I know won't look at me like I'm crazy, or dreaming. I'm starting the Air Force Academy in six weeks. I'm going to study astrophysics and become a fighter pilot, then when I've got enough experience I can apply for the space programme."
"Perhaps we'll see each other there." John grinned. He looked around at the clouds gathering in the night sky, beginning to obscure the stars. "In the meantime, tell me where you live and I'll take you home. It's going to rain."
Sam's disappointment at the evening ending showed on her face as she looked down and reached for the helmet. Before she could put it on John tipped her chin up with his finger and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. "And then," he continued. "I'll pick you up again tomorrow morning. You've got a driver's licence, right?" Sam nodded. "Perfect. I'll teach you how to drive the bike."
Sam put on her helmet with a grin and John drove them once again into the night.
Part 2:
"Hey, Daniel," Sam called, as Daniel walked past the TV on his way back from the kitchen. "Change the channel while you're over there, will you? The space shuttle Collaroy's launching, and I'd like to watch."
"What am I, the remote?" Daniel shot back sarcastically, but with a grin.
"The colonel won't give me the remote," Sam said with a sigh. "He wants to watch the hockey."
Daniel laughed, set the two beer bottles he was carrying in his right hand down on the coffee table, and flipped the switch to change channels. Picking up the beers again, he came to sit beside Sam on the sofa, nudging her with his shoulder as he handed her a drink. "You really don't think you could've taken him?" He asked her in a stage whisper.
"O'Neill is sitting on the remote control, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said. "I believe he anticipated Captain Carter's reluctance to attempt retrieval from that location."
"Ah, yeah," Daniel grinned as Sam blushed and took a large swallow from her beer bottle. "Good call, Sam."
"I thought so," she muttered, and directed her attention to the television in an attempt to distract herself from her embarrassment. "Look, the astronauts are about to board the shuttle."
"They should try the stargate. Wouldn't need so much equipment." Jack quipped.
Sam chuckled, but shook her head a little. "There's still a part of me that would love to give the shuttle a try. It was my goal for so many years, and as much as I wouldn't trade the SGC for anything…" she trailed off and stared at the screen in amazement as the camera went in for a close up of the three man shuttle team. "Holy ..."
"Sam, what's up?" Daniel asked, nudging her to draw her attention away from the television.
"I know him; Commander John Crichton. Or at least, I used to. He took me on his motorcycle, and I loved it so much he taught me how to drive one. It was, God, more than fifteen years ago. I didn't even know his last name, but he told me he was going to be an astronaut, and there he is." Sam felt inexplicably choked with pride, even though she could barely claim to know John Crichton anymore. "He made it."
They watched the launch, and Jack didn't even complain when Sam announced she wanted to watch for coverage of an experiment the shuttle team were supposed to run in a new kind of flight module.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the press," began the voice-over. "At twenty-six fourteen on the flight clock we begin the major experiment of this shuttle mission. Commander John Crichton will pilot a craft of his own design in a dangerous attempt to use our planet's gravity as a speed booster, sling-shotting him off into space at previously unrecorded speeds. If successful, the results are anticipated as the first concrete step towards interstellar travel."
"You should look him up, Sam. See how he's getting on. He'd probably love to tell you all about the space programme, and I'll bet you could give him some input on this gravity, sling-shot thing." Daniel suggested.
"Yeah," Jack agreed with a grin. "The guy sounds like almost as big a geek as you. You'll have plenty to talk about."
Sam considered the idea. It would definitely be nice to see John again, even if she couldn't tell him why she wasn't now an astronaut like him. She remembered their kisses, and their conversations about space and their future.
"Perhaps I will, when he gets back."