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Four People Sam Wishes She'd Slept With and One She Wishes She Hadn't
Title: Four People Sam Wishes She'd Slept With and One She Wishes She Hadn't
Author's email: email@example.com
Author's URL: http://chelle.slashcity.org/
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Archive: Ask first
Notes: This fic is exactly 350 words, with alternating half-drabbles and drabbles.
She should've wanted him. Handsome, kind, infatuated, Narim was the sort of man most women would be grateful to have.
But it's only after he's gone, after she's turned and left him there with a city falling around him that she thinks of him when she reaches between her legs.
It's his voice that does it, the soft hint of a lazy accent.
That and the fact that he talks about his grandma and bakes--macaroons with too much coconut, but it's still more baking than any other man she's ever known has done.
She can recount every time he's ever touched her, each gentle pat and reassuring shoulder squeeze. He has nice hands, and it's easy to imagine how they'd feel on her breasts, her thighs, too easy to think of his fingers inside her, his thumb on her clit. Upturned lips, those blue eyes smiling down at her.
Sam could have Vala easily.
Vala is a wink and a flirt with long legs and dangerous lies.
But she's also raw bravado and real bravery, doing her damnedest to prove herself to herself.
So Sam tucks away the part of her that wants, because Vala deserves more than desire.
Sam never thinks about him in her bed. Only in the shower. McKay on his knees, broad hands on her thighs, holding her open as that too smart mouth takes her apart.
His cock is just like the rest of him--thick and blunt--Sam's sure of it. She'd wrap her legs around his waist and hold onto those shoulders, her back against the wall as he fucks up into her, strong thighs supporting them both.
Any chance she had with McKay is long gone. His teammates make that very clear every time one of them catches her eyes lingering.
She goes to him before he leaves for Washington, wanting the vindication of knowing that it's not just her. That she hasn't been a complete fool, only a partial one.
His hands are clammy and clumsy. Their kisses off, their fucking uncertain and mechanical.
She leaves while he's still sleeping.