The Uniform - Formal Dress, Field Grade
Author: Rysler
Date: 07/01/04
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Sam/Janet, established relationship
Genre: PWP
Notes: Sorry it's not flight suit fic, I thought I'd start at the top and work my way down... I couldn't find a proper picture or description of the uniform I'm using here anywhere, so I had to rely on memory. It's a step up from the Service A dress uniform we usually see Hammond and Fraiser wearing, and is generally only worn at one event a year, and only worn by Majors and higher.
For Geonn and WendyWoo
Sam leaned toward the mirror, adding the final touches to her eyeliner. She saw Janet's reflection join hers just as Cassandra's voice came from somewhere outside the bathroom.
"Limo called. They'll be here in five minutes."
Sam and Janet's reflections smiled at each other. Then Janet's cleared its throat. "Are you ready, dear?" She called out, as her dark eyes sparkled mischievously.
"I'm not going! For the last time!" Her daughter responded.
"Don't think you should support Grandpa Jacob?"
"I spent two hours putt-putting with him this morning, and then we went to the zoo. We _bonded_ already."
"Colorado Springs doesn't have a zoo," Sam muttered, pulling on a white glove.
Janet looked at her pityingly, before turning her attention back to torture. "It's his big night, you know."
"Mom!" The disembodied teenage voice screamed with outrage.
Janet grinned. "I love it when she calls me mom."
Sam raised an eyebrow as she reached for her scabbard and sword, clipping them to her belt.
"I love it when you call me mom, too," Janet continued.
"Pervert," Sam teased.
Janet looked miffed. "Let me, she said, taking hold of the sword hilt. Sam held still and looked down at Janet securing the formal blade to her waist. Janet then began to slide her hand up and down the hilt, squeezing it suggestively. When Janet slid her thumb over the tip, Sam shuddered.
"Pervert," Janet accused, releasing her.
Sam let out a small moan.
"Limo's here!" Cassandra called, saving them from behavior that would have forced them to dress and primp all over again. "And no!" The girl yelled for good measure, "I am Not Going!"
Sam offered her arm. "Shall we?"
Janet took it. "You look stunning in that uniform," she complimented her friend.
Sam blushed. "Ruffles, sword, and for Christ's sake, gloves. You don't think it's a bit much?"
"No," Janet murmured, and in her voice, Sam caught a hint of the night to come.
* * *
They were headed to a gala at the US Air Force Academy, which had been cleared and secured by the SGC. The president was flying in to honor Jacob Carter for his work toward interstellar peace. Sam was wearing the formal dress uniform befitting her rank, while Janet had opted for a gown of black, clinging satin that cascaded to her ankles, but left her shoulders completely bare.
Sam would have preferred a gown herself, because the wool was itchy, the sword gangly, and the gloves, stupid. But Janet had insisted she wear the thing, and so she did.
Janet had better make this worth it.
* * *
The medal ceremony was overly stylized, with several long, generic speeches in Tok'ra and English, and Sam's feet and back ached from standing at attention. She did take comfort in imagining Janet's feet hurting more in high heels. Probably. Janet did wear the damn things every day.
So much for that hope. Sam felt glum again.
Janet sensed her expression, and moved imperceptibly closer so that her bare arm brushed Sam's sleeve.
Already, the night was worth it.
After the ceremony came the ball, which meant mandatory dancing. Sam began to wish she'd taken Cassandra's road, and she said as much to Janet was they waited in line at the open bar.
"Cassandra doesn't get such good rewards for her cooperation," Janet said quietly.
Sam's cheeks turned pink. She was saved from inappropriate speculation by her father's approach. "May I have this dance, Sam?" How could she resist a grown man in Jedi robes?
As her father led her around the dance floor, she noticed Janet dancing with Teal'c, then Daniel. Jack ambled up to the father and daughter and requested to cut in. Jacob acquiesced, and as Jack took Sam into his arms, she saw her dad heading for Janet.
Jack spun her around. They were well-matched in height, and moved together well after years of shared combat. "You wish you were dancing with her, don't you?" The Colonel asked, a bit sadly.
Sam gave him the honest answer he sought as she looked up into his brown eyes. "Yeah."
He nodded, and swung her toward the other couple. Jacob caught his eye, and released Janet.
Sam stopped a foot from her lover. "I'm not--"
"Come on," Jack grunted. "No one will care. You look like a man, anyway."
"So comforting," Sam snorted, and Janet laughed. The delight on the small woman's face was enough for Sam, and she took the step forward into Janet's space, allowing herself a smile when Janet slipped her arms around her waist.
Jack and Jacob watched them dance for a moment, then glanced at each other. "So where does that leave us?" Jacob asked blithely.
"At the bar." Jack darted away.
"Right."
* * *
They danced for half a song before Janet decided she'd had enough. "Ladies room."
"Okay." Sam said, scanning the room, looking for the guys.
"Women travel to the ladies room in pairs," Janet instructed.
Sam looked down at her. "Oh, right."
They wandered toward the back of the ballroom. The bathroom was empty, and after Janet had done her business, she washed her hands, and caught Sam's eye in the mirror.
Sam gave her a half-smile, and mouthed "I love you" to Janet's image.
Janet reached over for Sam's gloved hand. "Have I mentioned how much I love you in uniform?"
Sam smirked, turning to face Janet and slouching to the side against the sink. "What do you love about it? The sweat?"
Janet lifted Sam's hand to her face. "The gloves." She leaned her cheek into Sam's palm. "So soft."
Sam inhaled sharply.
Janet pressed her lips into Sam's palm, leaving an imprint of lipstick.
"Maybe you shouldn't--"
Sam's words failed her when Janet took one of her gloved fingers into her mouth and sucked. Sam moaned. She could barely feel the sensations of Janet's flicking tongue and nibbling teeth through the white cotton, but the visual more than made up for it.
When Janet released her, Sam looked down at the thin pink ring around her index finger. She was marked.
Janet smirked. "Don't worry. I was thinking they wouldn't have much of a chance to see it."
"We're ditching the party?"
"Jacob's got his medal. Do you think he'd mind?" Janet said playfully.
"I don't care."
* * *
A full harvest moon hung low in the sky as the two women left the party. They never made it past the car. Crammed into the tiny back seat of Sam's Volvo, they kissed hungrily until Janet pressed Sam against the window and attacked her collar.
"I thought you liked me in uniform," Sam teased.
Janet managed to open enough buttons of Sam's jacket to access her neck, and began nipping the pale, exposed flesh. "You look very roguish," she mumbled in between bites, "With it half torn off." Janet placed her left hand on Sam's wool-covered inner thigh to make her point.
Sam squirmed and closed her eyes. She arched her neck, nearly cracking her head on the glass. Her hair was mussed from Janet's tugging fingers, her clothes were askew, and Sam was finding it patently unfair that Janet wasn't wearing a uniform, too. What good was a dress?
Sam opened her eyes again and took in the sight of Janet's cleavage, hidden by the barest scrap of silk. Janet's hair, piled on top of her head, perfectly framed her eyes, blackened by the shadowed car, and filled with lust.
Janet's hand cupped Sam's center, squeezing her through the coarse trousers, and Sam forgot to voice her complaint.
Janet straddled Sam's leg, and yanked her dress high enough not to tear the seams as she pressed herself against Sam's bent knee. She looked at Sam, tousled and ravished, touched by thin slivers of moonlight that penetrated the car window. She suddenly needed to see Sam's breasts, but she didn't want to relinquish her well-positioned hand between Sam's legs, and her other arm was propped against the back seat to lever herself. "Sam," Janet pleaded, rocking against the woman.
"Guh?"
Sam's eyes had been closed, and she was lost to the pleasurable sensations of the hand job. She only reluctantly gave Janet her attention when the doctor stilled her fingers.
"Unbutton your shirt." Janet used one fingertip to stroke the precise spot on Sam's pants that would bring obedience. "Please?"
Sam's glazed expression didn't change, but she reached for the highest button still clasped on her shirt. She slipped the plastic through the hole, then peered carefully at Janet.
"Yes, just like that." Janet was riding Sam's thigh, but her gaze was attached to Sam's working fingers.
Sam struggled with the next button, grunted, and gave the fabric a good yank. Buttons skittered over the floor of the car. Sam parted the shirt, and her breasts, held modestly by two sheaths of white cotton, came into view.
"Yes," Janet congratulated Sam, and then reluctantly moved her hand from Sam's crotch to cup a breast. She squeezed it gently. Sam was so soft, so yielding, underneath that veneer of formality the uniform had offered. Janet felt the hard pebble of Sam's nipple push eagerly at her palm. Janet slipped her fingers under the edge of Sam's bra, to tease the straining bud.
Sam groaned. Realizing Janet's aroused state from touching her and seeing her, Sam nobly acted, reaching out to hold Janet's hips firmly, securing her so Janet could use both hands for other things.
Janet felt so safe in Sam's strong arms that she allowed herself to let go, panting, one hand on Sam's breast, the other finding Sam's face and cupping it tenderly. Janet only saw Sam's eyes when she came, yelling and thrusting herself down onto Sam's knee. She shuddered in Sam's arms for long moments.
Sam took in the sight with awe. Except for the bunching of sleek black satin at her waist, and a thin line of sweat on her forehead, Janet looked unmussed. Sam swallowed at such perfection held delicately in her hands.
* * *
"Ah, the good ole dress uniform," Jacob said contentedly, joining O'Neill on the outside steps. O'Neill was looking out into the parking lot, at a Volvo that seemed to be rocking of its own accord.
"Always good for picking up chicks," O'Neill commented.
"Definitely. You know, that's how I met Sam's mother. One look at me in that blue suit and what could she do? Was the wife of a General, you know."
"No." Jack said, aghast.
"No." Jacob conceded. "Daughter."
"Get out of town," Jack laughed. "You old dog."
"That's where she gets it from," Jacob said proudly.
They resumed watching the car shake.
"How about when she gets outta there, we count all the dress code violations."
"If I know my kid, she's not gonna have a hair out of place."
"We'll see."
* * *
Janet leaned down to kiss Sam. The blonde, her desires still coursing, crushed her mouth against Janet's. Janet slipped between her lips, and Sam wrestled with the wet, warm tongue, wondering if she could get off on just a kiss, before Janet's back gave out.
The cup holder pressed into Sam's kidneys made her actions urgent, and Janet responded by moving a hand between her thighs again.
Sam yanked her head away from Janet's to gasp for air.
Janet smiled libidinously down at her lover as her fingers worked. "Oh, Sam," she purred. "You're wet all the way through your pants. We waited too long to take them off."
Sam panted, prisoner to the whim of Janet's fingers, too trapped to thrust her hips. She realized, peering out the windows at the glittering lights of the base, that what she really wanted was to be fucked in the backseat of her own car at a gala. "Janet," she begged. "Inside."
Janet didn't even question the logistics. She deftly slipped her hand under the waistband of Sam's trousers, and beneath Sam's oh-so-suddenly appropriate sheer panties. She penetrated the girl.
"Fuck," Sam gasped, as two of Janet's fingers slid in and out of her. Due to the positioning, most of the pressure was still on her clitoris, but Janet was inside her, too, loving her, disheveled as she was.
Sam's need crested, and she covered Janet's wrist with her own hand as she orgasmed wordlessly, her body straining toward her lover, her eyes on the moon.
When Sam quieted, Janet helped her into a sitting position, and they snuggled for a long, quiet moment in the car. Janet playfully rebuttoned what she could of Sam's shirt, and then the jacket.
"Champagne," Sam croaked.
"Good idea."
They shared a final kiss before getting out of the car.
* * *
When they returned to the party, Jack and Jacob sauntered over casually. "Missing a cufflink, Carter," Jack commented.
Sam glared at him around her champagne flute.
"And didn't you have an Air Service medal?" Jacob asked, tapping a newly blank rectangle on Sam's chest.
"Oh, there it is," said Jack, plucking the ribbon from a demure spot on Janet's dress.
Janet narrowed her eyes.
Jacob wisely clapped Jack on the back. "Let's go see if Teal'c's drunk enough to show us a traditional Chulak dance." Jack smirked as they wandered away from the girls.
Sam's gaze darted around the room as she gulped champagne. "Think everyone knows?"
"Oh yeah."
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