Culmination

Title- Culmination
Author- Denise
E-mail - skydiver119@hotmail.com
Category- Eps tag/SMUT
Archive Anywhere but please link to the page on my own site. http://www.geocities.com/sky_diver119/
Season- 6
Spoilers – ITLOD, COTG, Shades of Gray, Divide and Conquer, Crossroads, Serpents Venom, Desperate Measures, Changeling
Rating- NC-17
Content Warning- Sex
Summary- Sam provides Teal'c some reassurance
Disclaimer Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Sci-fi 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

For Adi, there's no such thing as too much Sam and Teal'c


Culmination
By
Denise


If she thought back, she'd be hard pressed to remember when it all started. For the first year or so, they really didn't have much to do with each other, she was too busy, and he was too alien.

After Jolinar, things changed.

He found her one night, seeking solace under the stars, struggling to understand and comprehend the alien images creeping out of her subconscious to interrupt her sleep and plague her dreams.

He offered himself to her, gifting her with a listening ear and granting her access to all he knew. He understood her reluctance and inability to talk to the other members of their team, the barriers of command and Shau'ri making her unwilling to reveal her vulnerability to one or to bring pain to the other.

On that night, and many times after, they could often be found in his quarters, talking quietly in the candlelight, him for once imparting knowledge not because it was strategically wanted, but in a sincere effort to help a friend.

She gratefully accepted his gift, speaking more and more openly with him than she ever had with another.

Looking back, she knows it saved her sanity, giving her a chance to deal with and accept the person she'd become. Their friendship grew quietly and steadily from that point, reassuring presence in the background that they eventually accepted so much that they weren't even aware of it.

Many nights would find him seeking her out, gently coercing her from her work, taking her back to his quarters to sleep while he meditated. She went willingly, enjoying the presence of another over yet another night in an empty house or in a narrow bunk.

He joined her occasionally, crawling into the bed and holding her close. She never protested, her unconscious mind usually leading her to snuggle at his side, reminding him just how long it'd been since he'd held a woman in his arms.

The first time they made love, she knew that she'd used him, used his willing body to make her forget, forget their leader's lies and betrayals, used him to hide her hurt, to forget, for a little while, the turmoil shaking up their lives.

The second time she used him again, denying her grief and guilt over Martouf's death in his arms, desperate to feel alive again.

He knew she used him, and he did the same, turning his grief into passion, her body a surrogate for his murdered love's. She let him do it, let him pound into her, not taking offense when the wrong name slipped past his lips, instead kissing away his tears, soothing his anger with her gentle hands.

They leaned on each other, a co-dependence warring with independence. She was the only one he would speak to about his time with Heru'ur. He was the only one she'd accept as a body guard after her kidnapping, taking him into her home, allowing him to see her fear.

He never seemed to need her as often as she needed him, which was why she knew she couldn't leave him alone now.

She paused in the doorway of the gym, sighing as she watched him work the heavy bag, pummeling it as if his very life depended on vanquishing this foe. He had been like this the last couple of weeks, the changes in his body bringing about changes in his mind.

He held himself separate from them now, seeking solitude where he once sought companionship. He hadn't come to see her, for the first time locking his door and barring her entry.

She'd respected his privacy, granting him room to deal with things on his own. She now realized that it had been a mistake.

She crossed the room, wordlessly moving to brace the bag. He paused for a second, and then resumed his work out, rhythmically punching the heavy bag.

He'd been at it for several hours she could tell. Sweat was pouring down his bare chest, soaking the waistband of the pants he was wearing, making them heavy and limp. He was breathing heavily, grunting a bit with each blow. His only acknowledgement of her presence was to alter his pace a bit, allowing her to set her grip on the bag.

She remained silent, noticing that the force behind each punch was lessening, his body ready to take a break even if his mind was not. She allowed him to continue for a few more minutes, his punches growing more and more erratic. Finally he missed, his gloved hand careening out erratically. His chest impacted with the bag and she threw her weight forward, hoping to help him keep his balance. He staggered, shaking off her supporting hand. He stepped back, ready to keep going.

She moved from behind the bag, reaching out to still his gloved hand. "Enough," she said softly. He pulled back, his dark eyes flashing with anger. He tried to push her aside, but she planted her feet, refusing to yield. "Enough," she said again, knowing she was one of only a few people that could openly defy him, and win. He tensed, obviously ready to fight her, then slumped, defeat plain on his face.

She undid his gloves, ripping the Velcro and pulling them off his hands. One by one she let them drop to the floor then took his hand in hers. She led him out of the gym and the short distance back to his quarters. She locked the door, the light from the bathroom the only illumination in the room.

Guiding him to the bathroom she reached into the shower stall, turning on the water, adjusting it until it was steaming. She reached out, pulling his sodden shorts off his hips, letting them pool around his feet. She gently pushed him under the water, quickly divesting herself of her clothing.

She joined him under the stream, sighing softly when she realized that he hadn't moved. She snagged the scrubby, taking a moment to squeeze a generous portion of his sandalwood shower gel onto the rough surface, working up a rich lather in her hands. She prodded him to turn around, scrubbing his muscular back. The suds ran down his firm ass and legs. She kept scrubbing, not to get him clean but to massage the tenseness out of his muscles.

When his coffee colored skin started to blush red, she turned him around, applying herself to his chest. She scrubbed his pectorals, dipping the scrubby into his armpits, caressing the sparse smattering of hair there. She washed his abdomen, taking a moment to caress and kiss the healing scar of his womb. She felt him tense and she closed her eyes for a second, hoping that she'd been wrong.

Abandoning his pouch she washed his groin, scraping her short fingernails through his equally short hair.

To her amazement, she watched him start to stir, his penis starting to swell before her eyes. Looking up, she saw his eyes close, his hands hanging loosely at his side, the only sign that he knew she was there was his hands, clenched into fists. Taking his lack of protest as assent, she wrapped her hand around his hardening length. She caressed and stroked him, staring as his erection grew. This was a new sensation to her. She'd felt his arousal before, but never stopped and watched this miraculous working of Mother Nature's masculine machine.

Dropping the scrubby, she took him into her mouth, replacing her fingers with her tongue. She swirled her tongue around his head, sucking gently. Her hand slipped between his legs, capturing and caressing his balls, gently rolling them against each other. She heard him groan and she smiled, biting him gently. His hips began to buck gently and she shifted position, taking as much of him into her mouth as she could.

She felt his hands come to rest on her head, threading his fingers through her wet hair. She squeezed his balls in time to his thrusts, her tongue still caressing his penis, now hot and hard in her mouth. He growled, reaching down and pulling her to her feet. He pushed her against the wall of the stall, bending his knees a bit to position himself. He pushed into her, seating himself to the hilt in one smooth move.

She moaned, her arms twining around his neck as her legs wrapped around his waist. Her breasts were smashed against his chest as he thrust into her. She threw her head back letting him kiss her neck. Tension coiled low in her belly, caressing her senses as the steam caressed her skin.

One hand stroked his bare skull as she brought her head forward, taking his mouth with hers. Their tongues dueled, mimicking the motion of their hips as she felt herself get closer and closer. She broke the kiss, burying her face into his neck, her tongue lapping the droplets of water. Her breath came in harsh gasps as he drove into her, grunting with the et. t.

She felt her orgasm begin and she bit his neck, trying to muffle her cries as she crested the pinnacle. Her nerves singing, she felt him thrust a few more times before he too crested, his hot seed pumping into her. Her muscles milked him as he pulled her head from his shoulder, kissing her again.

Her breathing slowed and she reluctantly unwound her legs, letting him lower her feet back to the floor, clinging to him to compensate for the wobbly feeling in her knees. He pushed her gently against the far wall, his now slack length pulling out of her. She moaned in protest, the chill of the porceline wall mirroring the emptiness she felt. He bent down, retrieving the abandoned scrubby. Squeezing more gel onto it, he washed her, lingering over her breasts, kissing them as he took special care to cleanse his seed off her thighs.

With a reluctant look on his face, he turned off the water, reaching out to snag a towel off the hook. They stepped out of the shower stall and dried each other. Padding into his room, he pulled back the covers, and she climbed in, not bothering with pajamas. He followed suit and she snuggled into his side, resting her head on his shoulder like she preferred.

One hand came up, wrapping around her, holding her tight enough to nearly bruise. She stretched out her arm across his chest, her fingers finding and tracing the outlines of his womb. It was healing over, closing and probably going to be absorbed into his body, at least that was Janet's hypothesis. The scar would fade, but never go away. He'd be marked forever, not just with the memories, but with a physical reminder of who he was and what he used to be. This was what was bothering him, she knew now. The perception that he was somehow diminished, somehow less of a warrior, less of a man now that he was human. For someone so intelligent, he could be incredibly dense.

"This is a reminder of what you were, not who you are," she said, raising up to plant a kiss on the apex of the scar. "And I love who you are," she said, looking him in the eyes.

He relaxed and she watched him nod slightly, accepting, at least for the moment her reassurances. She nestled back down into his side, shifting a bit until she was comfortable. She felt his breathing deepen, relaxing into sleep and she soon followed, content and safe in her lover's arms.

~Fin~