A Man and His Ordnance
by
Click here for details and warnings
DISCLAIMER: Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.
A MAN AND HIS ORDNANCE
by Puff and Ruffle
Ordnance. A weapon which throws or propels to a distance; any instrument for throwing projectiles by explosion, consisting of a tube with an explosive charge, which is ignited by various means.
Or…
Jack O’Neill on any given day. Like today.
Wow. My God, does he have any idea how hot he looks holding that honkin’ big gun to his chest like an overcompensating phallic symbol? Like he has anything to compensate for.
Then again, my Jack never does anything by half measures. The P-90 isn’t enough; he has to have a sidearm strapped to his leg besides. And with his current hardass colonel attitude, he could overpower anyone or anything with his bare hands.
Look this way, Jack. One willing, wanton archaeologist for you to conquer right here.
God, what am I thinking? I’m not supposed to react like a hormonal teenager. I’m a multi-doctorate civilized intellectual, for cryin’ out loud. Yet all I want to do is jump Jack’s bones until this primal urge melts both our brains.
I lean thankfully against the spaceship’s metal hull, welcoming the chill against my flushed skin and the support it provides to my weak knees. It’s all Jack’s fault. He’s the one who freed the hedonist in me. I’ve seen him prepped for action plenty of times, even seen him commanding troops, but there’s something about the way he’s stalking in front of the lined up trainees, challenging them to be their best, providing an example of what the best can be that makes me want to grab him, slam him into the nearest wall, and let him have his wicked way with me. If I don’t get him naked and sweaty in the next ten minutes, my body’s going to melt down like a reactor core and blast this ship all the way to the Tok’ra base.
My gaze drifts down to his butt as he walks away, then up across his long-drink-of-water torso as he turns and pins me with a smoldering glance. A knowing smile quirks his lips as all of his attention focuses on me. Sparks leap across the chasm separating us licking my libido into wildfire.
Geez, but it’s damn hot in here.
Abruptly Jack dismisses the troops, and they file past me. I vaguely hear a few greetings and feel the breeze as they go by, but my eyes stay riveted on Jack. With the barest incline of his head, he invites me to follow as he turns and exits the room without a backward glance.
I’m pushing away from the wall and trying not to trip over my tongue as I helplessly trail after. He ducks into a small supply closet as if he’s in need of fresh ammunition. I stumble in his wake, closing the door behind me and leaning against it breathing raggedly at the sight of his turned back and over-the-shoulder glance.
He turns slowly, powerfully, control radiating from every aspect of his being. His eyebrow quirks up. “Something you wanted, Dr. Jackson?”
That’s it. I’m propelling towards him without conscious thought, my hands reaching out to yank him towards me, my lips grinding against his. As I slam him backwards against the wall, the gun between us presses into my chest.
“Daniel…mff…Danny…okay…Daniel?”
I’m not letting him get a word in. I don’t give a shit if this is the wrong place or the wrong time. I want him now.
My fingers fumble with the buckle of his belt. Gotta feel his skin rubbing against mine, need his heat, his passion wiping it all out: the mission, the long days—and nights—we’ve had to be celibate, the growing tension because neither of us has an outlet.
Strong hands grasp my shoulders and push me away. Wha—? Huh? He doesn’t want this? Then why has he been teasing me? “Dammit, Jack…”
Breathing heavily, he lifts the weapon over his head and lays it carefully aside, then unstraps his holster. “The only thing I want going off…” he grins wickedly. Leaning forward, he yanks me toward him, maneuvering us around so now he has me pinned against the wall. His lips hover above mine.
Hah, Colonel! Got me where I want you.
“And they call me a loose cannon.” His words puff against my mouth before he sucks my breath away in a groin-melting kiss. The restraint of clothing disappears, and at last his skin melds to mine. I surge, meeting his pounding thrust. Another strike and another and another.
Take no prisoners. My fingers cramp as they dig into the muscles of his shoulders, clutching him to me, claiming him as he brands me with his hips and his mouth and his soul.
“Mine.” The growl rumbles against my throat as he nips and then soothes me with a raspy tongue.
Ignition. White hot concussion scatters my being as Jack cries my name and explodes with me.
Dissolving together, we sink to the floor, shielding each other with our bodies.
Panting, Jack works on evening out his breathing. “Not that I’m…complaining…mind you…but…what the hell set you off?”
Sated, content, and grinning like a fool, I manage, “A man and his ordnance, Jack.”
“Ordnance, huh? Who’d’ve guessed?” Jack thinks a moment, then says with an inviting note in his voice, “I’m demonstrating the laser cannons tomorrow.”
I look pointedly down at his crotch. “You know, I believe I need to brush up on handling the big guns.”
THE END