Site hosted by Angelfire.com: Build your free website today!

Title: Stories from the Table: Sam's Office

Author: Debi C

Date: 10 March 2003

Feedback: dcole6@satx.rr.com

Rating: G

Pairing: none mentioned here

Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Status: Finished

Series: Yachuryabettcha

Season/Spoilers: Between Two Fires and lots of others you can think of.

Archive: TheBoy, The Cartouche. Anyone else please ask.

Synopsis: Something from a different point of view. POV of a table that is owned by the SGC and can be used anywhere in the complex.

Notes: From the table challenge. This ones not beta'd so there's no fault here but my own.

 Warnings: HANKY WARNING! ALERT! HANKY WARNING! This fic has the possibility of placing our team within the realm of Real Life. Please do no read if you do not wish to see the guys engaged in any of the following: Sleeping, hugging, caring, loving, needing, giving and receiving comfort and joy. Humm, still no toes.

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/ Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. I do not own the characters and indeed am only playing with them for a little while. I am not making any money from this so there's very little point in suing me. No copyright infringement whatsoever is intended. The story is for entertainment purposes only. At least I hope it's entertaining. The original characters situations and story are mine. Please check with me first if you want to archive or link to this story.

Sam's Office

 By Debi C

I am a table. I am a rectangular four-foot wide by eight-foot long, golden oak table with lots of grain, a leg on each corner, and a polyurethane sealant. This is important, because though it removes me from the level of `fine' furniture, it adds to my versatility and my longevity. I was purchased in the early 90's by the U.S. Air Force Quartermaster in a spasm of upgrades for the offices of NORAD. After I was delivered I was reassigned to a priority slot in a new command under the mountain cryptically referred to as SGC. I can seat eight formally, ten comfortably, and twelve friendly. Because I was purchased without chairs, I knew that my life would be one of utilitarianism not formal dining. In other words, I'll see a lot of service of all kinds.

I am presently in Tall Lady Sam's office laboratory. I've been here for several days and I have been holding a small Naquadah Generator, a pile of notes and several of her journals. But she has not been here.

Her team, made up of Tall Military Jack, Tall Civilian Daniel, Tall Alien Teal'c and herself had been called away unexpectedly. One of their allies, a Mister Omac of the Tollans, has died. That is evidently when the mobiles cease to be. As a table, I'm not sure I understand this concept but it is obviously very important to them. Even Military In Charge Hammond seems upset by the news.

But they are back now, Tall Lady Sam came in this morning and shuffled her papers on my surface but then got up from my side and left again. She came back with a cup of coffee and one of those sticky sweet things, which she played with without consuming. Then she tried to activate the Generator. When that didn't work, she turned on the humming computer thing and tried to input data by making typy noises on the flat keyboard thing.

Then, she did the strangest thing I have ever seen. She sat down on floor next to me and put her face in her hands and made these terribly sad sobbing noises. After a few seconds, she scooched herself up and under my legs into my shadow, as if she were hiding from someone. She stayed there a long time making the sniffly sobby sounds. I felt very bad for her, but I didn't know what to do. I'm very limited as a table.

Finally, a while later, Tall Civilian Daniel came to the office doorway and knocked. The lights were dim, but he pushed his way in past the door and stepped over some of her paperwork that had fallen to the floor.

"Sam. Sam, are you in here?" He called. "Sam, where are you?" Tall Civilian Daniel turned on the ceiling light and walked around her desk and finally came to stand next to me. He must have heard her little snuffly noises cause he bent down and looked under me, between my sturdy oaken legs. "Sam? Sam, what are you doing under the table?"

"Go away, Daniel." She replied in that sad voice. She sniffed a little bit too, and he heard it.

Before I knew it, Tall Civilian Daniel had gotten down on his knees and crawled under me too. "Sam, what are you doing under here?"

"Go away, Daniel, just go away." She shifted back further under me until she was up against the wall.

"No. Not until you tell me what's going on." He crawled further back until he was sitting next to her.

She finally answered him, all sniffly. "I'm crying, okay. Now will you please go away?"

He reached over and gathered her into his arms. She tried to pull away for a second, then finally gave up. Daniel hugged her to his chest and pressed her head to his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Sam. I just so sorry."

"You didn't do anything." She tried to argue through her sobs, but he just made a little shusshing noise.

"I know, honey." He started to rock her as she started to cry again. "I just so sorry for you and Narim and all the other Tollans." He kissed her on the forehead. "They didn't deserve that. And you and he certainly didn't deserve it either."

She sobbed again, against his shoulder. "Why did it have to be him? Why the Tollans?"

"I don't know Sam. I just don't know."

"Aw, Daniel." She started to sob again.

They sat together, sheltered under me, for a long time, not saying a word, just sitting there, him holding her and she crying softly onto his chest.

Finally, Daniel started to talk to her. "Narim really liked you...from the first time we met them."

"I know, I always really liked him." She sniffed.

"I know." They sat together in silence again.

"I think I am," she paused. "Was...a little in love with him."

"I know." He kissed her on the forehead. "I think he was in love with you too."

"I know," She replied, paused then said. "He programmed my voice into his computer, so everyday when he talked to it...he heard my voice."

"Really, that's quite a compliment." He answered her in a soft sad voice.

"I know." She pulled away and looked up at him. "Why did he have to die?"

"I don't know, Sam." Daniel shook his head, and took a deep breath. "I don't know. I can't explain who lives and who dies, no matter how much I try, no matter how much I want to."

"For months, I've been trying to figure out why Martouff had to die." She said as she looked across the floor at the other wall. "I almost thought I had that figured out." She rested her head back on Daniel's chest. He cuddled her closer to him. "But now, now, I'm just confused again."

"Too many good people have died for it to make sense." Daniel shook his head. "I thought for the longest while it was me, but..." he looked down at her. "It's not just me..." he shook his head. "It's everyone, you, Jack, Teal'c, we've all lost someone we love. Maybe it's the curse of SG-1."

"No, we're the lucky team." She shook her head. "We haven't lost a member. Maybe cause we've lost so much, we take better care of each other."

"I don't know, Sam." Daniel stretched out his long legs so that they stuck out from under me. "I just don't know."

We heard the door open and Tall Military Jack's voice spoke. "Gee, Teal'c, they're not here either. I would have thought that Daniel might have come here to check on Sam, since she didn't have breakfast with us."

The came Tall Alien Teal'c's voice, but it sounded rather stilted. "Indeed, O'Neill. Since Majorcarter seemed rather upset over yesterday's events."

Daniel drew his legs up and under me again. He put his finger to his lips and made a shssing sound. Sam giggled softly through her tears.

"Well, maybe if we quit looking for them, they'll show up." Tall Military Jack said in the same stilted speech pattern. "I'd hate to think they were hiding from us."

"I agree, it would be most unlike them."

"Lets' go and get a cup of coffee at the commissary. Maybe they'll show up there, when they`re ready."

"Very well, lets."

The door closed behind them. Tall Civilian Daniel and Tall Lady Sam, looked at each other then Daniel crawled out from under me and helped Sam to stand up.

She sniffed and wiped her eyes. "I guess we'd better go up to the commissary."

"We don't have to if you don't want to."

"No, I guess...I guess I want to. Thank you Daniel." Tall Lady Sam wiped her face with a kleenex from a box on my surface and then hugged him hard.

"Any time, Sam. Anytime at all." He kissed her on the cheek and the two of them left the office turning off the light and closing the door behind them.

I am a table. I am a rectangular four-foot wide by eight-foot long, golden oak table with lots of grain, a leg on each corner, and a polyurethane sealant. This is important, because though it removes me from the level of `fine' furniture, it adds to my versatility and my longevity. I was assigned to a priority slot in a new command under the mountain cryptically referred to as SGC. And sometimes it's not the support you can give that's important...sometimes it's the shelter you can offer.

the end.